True Beauty

by Shelia E. (Lipsey) Bell

  She left downtown and drove in the direction of her sister’s house. At first, she was going to call and let Nikkei know that she was going to stop by, but she decided against it. Knowing herself, and knowing Nikkei too, they would probably end up arguing on the phone, and the chance to really sit down and air some things out would be lost. The death of their mother had widened rather than closed the gap that existed between her and Nikkei. There was no need to pretend that they had mad love for one another.

  Envy believed Nikkei had always been jealous of her good looks. Their mother often told Envy, “When you walk among women, don’t forget your whip. Girls are going to always be jealous of you, Envy, because you’ve been blessed with an aura of untouchable glory and sensuous beauty.” She would pull Envy in front of the mirror and tell her to look at the strikingly beautiful girl who stood before her. It used to make Envy feel weird, but as she grew older, she began to embrace her beauty to the point where both her mother and sister began to act jealous.

  When they were younger, people in their neighborhood used to tell Envy how pretty she was and say nothing about Nikkei. But through Envy’s eyes, Nikkei was an extension of her. They bore many of the same features. Nikkei had a rich, fawnlike beauty. She wasn’t into wearing makeup other than just enough lipstick to show that her mouth was perfect.

  Nikkei may not have seen things the way Envy did. Envy had a jealous streak. She was always trying to live up to other people’s expectations of her, while Nikkei was content in being who she was. She did her own thing regardless of what people thought. But when it came to being constantly compared to her older sister, Nikkei seemed to develop a bitter ache in her heart for Envy.

  It was now time for the sisters to let go of the bad blood and allow new, fresh blood, which should be shared by a family, to pour into their hearts and minds. The only way to do that was for Envy to act like the older sister she was and try to make amends by talking to Nikkei.

  Envy pulled into the driveway of Nikkei’s five-bedroom, ranch-style brick house. The doors to the three-car garage were closed, so Envy couldn’t tell if Nikkei was at home or not, but she didn’t regret her decision to drop in on her.

  She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose before she opened the door and extended her flawless Tina Turner like legs out of the car. Like a bad habit, she used her hands to straighten any sign of wrinkles from her skirt. She buttoned her overcoat before she walked along the concrete pathway that led to Nikkei’s front door.

  She pressed her always perfectly manicured nail to the doorbell and lightly pushed it. She waited for a few seconds, but no one came to the door. Envy pressed it for the second time. Again, there was no answer.

  “We will talk,” said Envy. “Real soon.” She turned around, strode boldly to her car, got in, revved her motor, and drove home so she could get ready to go and meet Leonard.

  12

  It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.

  Layla sat at her computer after spending a long day at the salon. She had taken another group of photos and was getting ready to upload them. Each pose revealed a certain self-assuredness and was meant to show off every curve of her body. She smiled as she thought about how good she looked. These particular photos were taken when she went with a group of cosmetologists to a hair show in Nashville. She hadn’t bothered to show them to Kacie or Envy. She would hear about it soon enough when they saw them on her social media site. For Layla, it was apparent her friends couldn’t accept the fact that she was far more gorgeous than either of them.

  It only took about ten minutes for her to get all of the pictures uploaded. After she completed that satisfying task, she ran some bath water and planned to light some scented candles around her claw tub, put on her facial scrub and eye mask, and just relax in the tub until the water turned cool.

  Before she could take a step into her bath, Dennis called. Layla pinched her lip with her lower teeth, sighed, and answered the phone.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey, there.”

  “Hey.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Good, but long. I was about to get in the bathtub and soak. Whuzzup?”

  “What’s on your agenda after that?”

  “I’m going to chill; rest my mind and body. I have more early appointments tomorrow. You know how some of my clients like to get their hair done before they go to work.”

  “I sure want to see you tonight. Mind if I come over and rock you to sleep?” he asked, and then laughed lightly into the phone.

  No, no, and no. “Can I get a rain check?…Dennis. Dennis, are you still there?”

  “Yea, I hear ya.”

  “Let’s get together this weekend. We can go see that new movie, and since this weather is turning more spring like, we can ride downtown and walk along the river. That would be nice, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, it sounds nice. I just miss you, Layla. We haven’t spent time together in weeks. You’re always so busy.”

  “What do you mean by that? I have a lot of things on my plate now, Dennis, other than food.”

  “Look, I didn’t call to argue. I can’t help it if I miss you, so I thought I’d call and come over. No pressure to make love to you, or anything like that. Just to hold you, maybe spoon a little. That’s it. We can sleep in each other’s arms, and I could wake up early in the morning and fix you a nice, healthy breakfast.”

  Layla listened; he was a good man, but she was getting oh so burned out on him. There was so much adventure to experience, so many things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go and see. The crazy thing was she didn’t want to do them with Dennis. He was becoming more like a kid who wanted to cling to his mama’s skirt tail. She, in turn, was a wild, lively, spur-of-the-moment woman. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to be tied down to one man. As long as she was tagged as Dennis’s lady, she would run the risk of him thinking she was cheating on him every time she didn’t call him for a few days, or didn’t want to see him. Too bad that things had gotten to this point, but it was time he faced the music.

  “Dennis, look. What does it take for you to get the message?” She didn’t mean to come off harsh, but she was sick of sugarcoating everything when it came to the two of them.

  “What message is it that you’re sending, because I guess I’m totally missing it? Since when is it a crime for a man to want to see his lady?” Agitation was present in his voice.

  “That’s just it. The fact that you’re my man and I’m your woman. It just doesn’t feel right anymore, Dennis. You’re settled in your ways. You’re used to going to work every day, coming home to watch whatever it is you TiVo’d for the day, calling me, and hopefully coming over here to watch some more TV. On Sunday, you go to your church and I go to mine. We may meet up afterward, have lunch, and the routine starts all over again.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? You used to love spending time with me. What’s changed?”

  “Put it this way; I just returned from a wonderful weekend in Nashville. The hair show I went to was spectacular. I got a chance to meet other people from all over the Southeast. I had fun. I laughed. I went to the club. I danced. I had a ball. I love that, Dennis. Your idea of a vacation is coming back late from lunch,” she said with sarcasm.

  “So what are you really saying, Layla? That I’m no longer good enough for you?” His tone escalated. She could tell that she’d pushed his button one time too many. “What, you’re Miss Thang now, with a new attitude to go along with your new body? Is that what this is about?”

  “How dare you talk to me like that, Dennis Parker.” She tried to discipline her voice, to maintain control, but it didn’t come across that way. “I guess now that I’m not the fat girl anymore, and other men find me attractive, you want to keep me locked away. Well, that was the old Layla,” she raved, blithely ignoring the silence on the other end of the phone. “You are so typical. As long as you thought I was full of low s
elf-esteem and walked around like some sorrowful, needy victim, you were fine because I depended on you. So I guess you want me to be forever grateful. Okay, I’ll give you your props. Thank you for being there for me. But I will not be made to feel like I’m wrong for wanting to experience everything that life has to offer.”

  “You know what? I am so sick of hearing you use the poor, fat girl scenario to justify your actions. It may have taken me a while, but I think I finally get the picture.” His voice cracked and trailed away. “You are one piece of work. And here I thought you were genuine when you’re really counterfeit.”

  “Excuse you?” It wasn’t a question; it was an inquiry.

  “Oh, let me finish, sweetheart.” His voice had bite. “When I first saw you, do you think I looked at you and said, ‘Hey, there’s an overweight sister; let me take advantage of her’? Is that all you thought of me? I loved you for the person you were. I loved your smile. I loved your voice. I loved your full hips and your breasts. I loved holding you and kissing you, all of you. What I’m saying is that I loved you for you, not because you were a certain size.

  I’ve dated lots of women. All sizes, all colors, with different personalities and attitudes. Some were drop-dead gorgeous, with the worst attitude known to man, and others were awright-looking, but their personalities, their spirits, made them beautiful. I’m sorry to say that you sound like the ones in the first category.” His voice brimmed with distaste. “If being thin is what you believe makes you beautiful, then I’m about to burst that bubble, because that woman is gone. And all that’s left behind is an ugly stain. Like I said, I get the message. You go on and have a good life. You don’t have to worry about me being the one you say tried to stop you from doing you. And one more thing I want to say: beauty may get the attention, but it’s personality that gets the heart.”

  Layla heard Dennis’s phone click off; she set the phone on the bed before she slowly retreated to the bathroom. She touched the water with the tip of her pedicured foot. It was still nice and warm—just right. She placed one foot inside the round tub and then the next. As she lay back against the tub with her head resting against the bath pillow, she pulled the eye mask over her eyes and refused to allow the words that Dennis had spoken invade her mind and spirit. It was Dennis who had the problem dealing with her because of the strong, independent woman she’d become. It was his loss, and frankly, she was glad that things had ended. Now no one could stop her. Not Kacie, not Envy, not Dennis—no one at all. Layla Hobbs had it going on. Better Dennis’s heart be broken, or any man’s heart, than hers. Anyway, if she wanted him back, she could get him back—no problem.

  Layla remained in the bathtub until the water started to cool. She removed her eye mask, stepped out of the bathtub, grabbed her robe hanging on the robe rack nearby, and put it on. After she rinsed the facial scrub from her face, she placed some natural moisturizer on it. She dried off her legs, one by one, then stepped into her slippers and went into her bedroom. For a few minutes, she had to admit that she thought about Dennis’s stinging words, but she was not a whiner anymore. She would shed no tears. Instead, she picked up the phone and called her mother. It had been a few days since she talked to her. Her schedule was so full that she didn’t have the time to call her every day, like she used to do.

  It was almost eight o’clock. Her mother and father were probably already asleep.

  “Hello,” her mother said in a drowsy-sounding voice. “Momma, I’m sorry to call so late.”

  “Honey, is everything all right with ya?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Everything is fine. I just wanted to check on you and Poppa since I haven’t talked to you in a few days.”

  “I know, honey, and that’s all right. Poppa is already sleeping. He was saying just the other day that our baby is so busy now. You have so much going on in your life. Told me that I shouldn’t be sitting up worried about you because the Lord has you in His hands.”

  “Poppa’s right, Momma. I’m fine. I’m going to try to get over there one day this week to see y’all. Okay?”

  “Oh, honey, that would be so good. We miss you, baby,” her mother said.

  “I miss you and Poppa too, Momma, and I love you.”

  “We love you too, Layla.”

  “Now go on back to sleep. I’m about to turn in myself. ’Night, Momma.” Layla blew a kiss in the phone.

  Her mother laughed. “Good night, sweet angel.”

  Layla changed from her robe to her pink silk boxer pajama set. She knelt down beside her bed and began to make her prayer requests known to God. Her main prayer was for her to stop allowing those who were envious and jealous of her to rattle her and make her upset.

  She finished her prayers, climbed into bed and propped up her pillows against the headboard. Her left hand grabbed the remote and simultaneously pushed the POWER button. Flipping from channel to channel, she stopped on SoapNet. With. her legs underneath the cover, she started watching her favorite soap opera, The Young and the Restless.

  13

  Abstinence is approved of God.

  Kacie and Kenny entered Division I of Juvenile Court, along with the mediator. Layla and Envy pooled their money together and bought Kenny a classy looking, two-button, chocolate brown pinstripe suit, with a crisp button-down white shirt and a matching necktie. Kacie told his father he needed a pair of new dress shoes, and Thomas, much like always, provided what his son needed.

  Kacie didn’t know if the judge would look at Kenny and see him as a sixteen-or seventeen-year-old instead of the thirteen-year-old that he actually was. The lawyer had suggested she make sure he was neatly dressed, but he hadn’t specified whether that meant a shirt and slacks or the suit that he wore. She prayed that all would turn out fine.

  Envy and Layla accompanied them to court, but they were not allowed to come into the courtroom until the bailiff gave them permission. Kacie walked in and saw Jackie accompanied by both of her parents.

  Jackie was dressed the opposite of Kenny. In contrast to Kenny, she looked like a twelve or thirteen-year-old. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the dress she wore was simple and cute. She had on no makeup or jewelry. It was hard for Kacie to look at her like she was sixteen; so how would the judge weigh in on the case? Kacie could only pray for a fair outcome.

  Kacie exhaled when she saw Envy and Layla enter the scant courtroom. Several other people came in along with them, but they sat behind the girl’s family. Why hadn’t she thought of asking people from church to come out in support of Kenny? She believed if she had asked youth minister, Cecil Brunson, he would have come. He had taken a liking to Kenny ever since Kacie, following Envy’s advice, enrolled Kenny in the church’s youth group; she already saw a change in him. He was livelier, talkative, and enjoyed going to Super Wednesday, an excellent program designed around youths aged twelve to seventeen.

  Kacie had a strong desire to start doing better when it came to her kids. She no longer left them at home alone the way she used to do. Nor did she hire teenagers to watch her kids when she wanted to have girls’ night out or occasionally work extra hours. She called on their fathers more often, something she had refused to do, even though most of their daddies were willing to keep their kids. They may not all have paid child support, but it was still a relief when she gave in and allowed her kids to get to know their fathers’ sides of the family. Plus, Kacie felt her kids were safer in the hands of their fathers.

  Kenny’s father, Thomas, walked into the courtroom, accompanied by his wife of one year. Kacie didn’t trip about it. She had no interest whatsoever in Thomas anymore. He had his evil ways, but he could be cool when it came to his son. He paid his child support on time every month, and except for taking what Kenny did as just being a boy, Thomas was a good father, but their relationship had been volatile at times because of Thomas’s short temper. Kacie was glad when their relationship ended shortly after Kenny was two years old.

  Kenny enjoyed visiting his father, but Kacie us
ually had some excuse as to why he couldn’t. Part of her was frightened, thinking that Thomas might get upset with Kenny for some reason or other and explode on him, just like he’d done many times before toward her.

  Now that Kenny was growing up and looking like he was already grown, Kacie had started to understand that he needed not only the direction and guidance he got from the youth group, but Kenny needed his father in his life too. Soon after the incident with Jackie, Kacie relented and told Thomas that he could spend more time with his son.

  Thomas’s attitude toward Kacie seemed to soften ever since she told him that. He used to avoid talking to her when he called her house. He would never come to Kacie’s house to pick up Kenny. He always insisted that Kacie drop him off at his mother’s house. Now, in the weeks since the incident, Thomas called Kenny almost every day.

  Thomas, his wife, and Kenny sat in front of Layla, Envy, and Kacie. Kenny was busy talking to his daddy.

  “I’m glad to see Thomas here,” Layla whispered to Kacie. “I felt if you would give the man a chance, he would step up to the plate and be the father Kenny needs.”

  “Okay, so you told me so. I accept that.”

  “What are y’all talking about?” Envy leaned over to get in on the conversation.

  “About Thomas being here,” Layla told her. “Is that his wife with him?” Layla asked Kacie.

  “Yeah, that’s Shania.”

  “How is she?” asked Envy.

  “She seems pretty nice. I don’t interact with her much, but Kenny seems to like her.”

  Envy patted Kacie on her shoulder. “Everything is going to be okay. I don’t think you have to worry about Kenny. He’s going to be just fine.”

  “I hope you’re right. I just hope this judge isn’t biased against my son, that’s all. You know how some of them can be when it comes to young black men, and it’s even worse when they find out they come from poor families.”

  “Don’t even think like that,” Layla told her. “The judge still has to listen to this hearing fairly, and everything will work out. And please don’t let me hear you identify you or your children as being poor.”