Keona leapt on the inside. “Thank you,” she said in her normal voice.
“I have a photographer there in Houston,” Antwan said. “Is tomorrow too soon?”
“No, no definitely not!”
“Great. If you can meet with him tomorrow, we might have a place for you with my company.”
“I’ll be there. Just tell me where.”
Antwan relayed the information and ended the call. If she got this job, this would be her first paid modeling job. All she needed was a chance to get in front of his photographer; when that happened, she knew that she, and not Jayla, would be the face of his company.
She was still dancing around her studio when Jayla opened the door, catching Keona jumping in the air.
“What’s got you so excited?” Jayla asked, placing the bags of Chinese food onto the table.
Keona said, “I’m just so happy that we’re friends again, and I’m positive that things are turning around for both of us.”
“Aww, I love you, too.”
As they embraced, Keona squeezed Jayla tight, praying once again that this last betrayal wouldn’t end their friendship. That somehow, her friend would understand.
JAYLA
A month had passed and Jayla hadn’t heard anything from Antwan Rhodes, but she wasn’t worried; he’d told her that the job was hers.
But then, this morning, she’d received a text from Keona: Check my Instagram was all that it said.
And now, Jayla was breathing heavy as she looked at the three photos of Keona: the new face for Antwan Rhodes Cosmetics. Even though her palms began to sweat, she still checked out the fifteen second commercial showcasing the products on Keona.
What happened? Wasn’t this supposed to be her modeling gig? Why hadn’t Antwan called her and told her that he’d changed his mind? Why hadn’t Keona told her that she’d been contacted for this job? They’d been talking ever since they made up a month ago.
“I hope you can take a break,” Granny Shirley said as she entered the study, carrying a lunch tray that filled the room with the sweet smoked flavor of barbecue. “Since I talked you into not going to that coffee house today, I hoped you’d have time to have lunch with me.”
“Yeah.” Jayla sighed as she looked up. “I can take a break.”
“I know that face.” Granny Shirley put the tray down and placed her hand on her hip. “What did Keona do?”
It was crazy that she didn’t even have to tell her grandmother. “She’s the new face of that line that I told you about. I want to be happy for her, but a part of me wonders why she didn’t tell me sooner.”
“I thought you two had decided not to discuss business.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You think she stole the idea from you?” Granny Shirley narrowed her eyes. “Did you tell her about it?”
“No.” Jayla scratched her head, then wrapped a curly red strand around her finger. Then, she thought back and remembered that day. She hit the desk with both hands. “I’m so stupid,” she said and rolled backwards in her executive chair.
“What?” Granny Shirley walked over to her looking puzzled.
“I left my bag at her house with all of my information in there.” She hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “All this time I thought we were making progress and she betrayed me again.”
Granny Shirley gave her the side eye. “Fool me twice.”
“I know.” Jayla looked down and fought back tears.
Standing over her, Granny Shirley said, “That girl is never going to do right by you.” She took her index finger to lift Jayla’s chin. “Let it go.”
She wiped away a tear. “I’m gonna knock her out.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
Granny Shirley shook her head. “You’re a lady. We don’t fight. Plus, you don’t know how,” she teased.
Jayla laughed and Granny Shirley handed her a tissue. She stood and kissed her grandmother. She might not be able to slap Keona, but she wasn’t going to let her get away with this betrayal.
She sat and ate lunch, but her mind was on all the things she was going to say to Keona. She tried her best not to rush through, but right after her grandmother cleared away their plates, Jayla told her that she had to run an errand. Jayla had just stepped outside the door on her way to Keona’s, when her cell rang.
After she said hello, she heard, “This is Skylar Holmes.”
That made Jayla stop walking. She’d taken photos for Skylar and his Olympia Natural Hair and Skin Care line several months before Antwan had called her.
He said, “I’m calling because we’ve finally made a decision. We didn’t plan for it to take so long, but we’ve chosen you to be the face of our company.”
“Oh, my goodness. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Check your email and get back with us as soon as possible.”
“I will, and thank you again,” she said rushing back into the house.
She spoke fast, explaining everything to Granny Shirley as she opened her computer and checked her email. Her eyes scanned the contract and she squealed when she saw the money she’d make; it was three times what she would have made with Antwan, plus more exposure. She’d have ads in two supermarkets, and would be making television appearances. She jumped from her chair and hopped around the room like a cheerleader.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Granny Shirley said as Jayla danced. “God had something better for you. No attack from the enemy can stop the blessings God has in store for His children.” She kissed her cheek before she left Jayla alone.
Sitting back in the chair, Jayla couldn’t believe this blessing. She decided then that she wouldn’t go to see Keona. They’d run into each other soon enough.
Jayla just didn’t expect it to happen the next morning. She was at the gym, on the treadmill, running as fast as her size seven feet would allow. Keona got on the treadmill next to her and as competitive as she was, Jayla knew she’d try to keep up, even though she was not in the shape that Jayla was. Thirty minutes later, satisfied that she had worked her friend to almost throwing up, Jayla stopped her machine and told her to meet outside by their cars.
Within ten minutes, they were both outside.
“What’s wrong?” Keona said, still breathing hard. “You haven’t even congratulated me.”
“You’re expecting congratulations?” Jayla glared at Keona. “You’re a thief.”
“What are you talking about?” Keona said with a blank face.
“I know that you stole Antwan’s information from me.”
Keona paused and twitched her lips.
“Nothing?” Jayla placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t care to respond?”
After a moment, “Yes, I did it,” Keona snapped. “Because you’re always acting like you’re better than me.”
Her words surprised Jayla; what was Keona talking about? This was not the way she expected this conversation to go.
“Well, Antwan chose me over you,” Keona continued ranting, “and my face will be all over two pharmacies.”
Jayla started to blast Keona with her new deal, but she made the mistake of telling her something too many times before.
“That’s nice, but I’m sure I’ll find something better than that. I always do. If you wonder why you’re always at the bottom and I’m on top, it’s because you can’t win when you behave like a snake.”
Keona shook her index finger at Jayla. “I love you, but this one time I deserved to win.”
There was pity in her eyes when Jayla looked at Keona. “I would have done anything for you, but I can’t have a friend who wants my life and is willing to do anything to get it.”
Keona pressed her lips together.
When she didn’t say anything, Jayla turned to leave. “There won’t be another betrayal. I was a fool to try to bring someone seasonal back into my life.”
Leaving Keona standing there, she got in her sports car and sped off. She had only one regret – that she hadn’t listened t
o Granny Shirley earlier. But there was no way that she would ever befriend Keona again.
It was months later when Jayla found out that Keona’s ads never ran anywhere. It was all over the fashion news – Antwan’s company filed for bankruptcy and closed.
Just the opposite was happening for Jayla. Her deal with Olympia led to more magazine features and her big break was getting a regular Special Correspondent’s spot with one of Houston’s news channel.
All of her dreams were coming true and though she had felt a void with Keona being gone, that space was filled with new friends that God brought in her life. She wasn’t sure how Keona faired, but it didn’t matter. Jayla was soaring and didn’t have time to look back on people who didn’t count anymore.
Lamesha Junior Johnson discovered her desire to write fiction after she obtained a MS degree in applied mathematics from Prairie View A&M University. She loves reading, sports, music, soap operas and volunteering. Lamesha is working on her debut novel and lives in the Houston area with her husband and son. Connect with her at www.LameshaJuniorJohnson.com or on social media on Facebook: Lamesha Junior Johnson, Twitter @LameshaJunior and Instagram @LameshaJunior.
NOT DADDY’S GIRL
By Brenda A. White
MADISON
Color me dazed, antsy, and confused because two women approached me at Frenchy’s Chicken and said I was their niece.
I was suddenly not hungry, so I closed my box, wrapped my lemon cake and rushed toward my car. My hands trembled so badly I dropped my phone. I fished it out from underneath the seat and called my sister, Shay. It went to voice mail. I slapped the steering wheel. “Shay, call me back, please. I have something to ask you.”
I wanted to call my dad since I had just finished talking to him about moving my stuff back home after graduation. I pulled the hoodie over my head and rested against the headrest to calm my nerves. My chest moved up and down.
I had watched my family for years, wondering why I didn’t look like any of them. I had always felt different, too. Though it had been awhile, I even questioned my parents on a number of occasions.
“Oh, girl, stop it, you do look like us,” my mom said, then continued with what I know now were a bunch of lies.
I often wondered if I was adopted, but when I discussed it with Shay, she recalled my mother’s pregnancy. She showed me pictures. My dark skin, high cheek bones, thick silky eyebrows, and full lips were totally opposite of her and the rest of the family.
Tears started to glide along my eyelids and my cheeks flushed a wave of heat. I wanted to believe it, but I thought were those ladies telling the truth.
My phone vibrated.
“Shay!”
“Hey girl. Why are you yelling?”
“You will not believe what just happened to me.” I turned the radio off.
“Yes, I will. What?” Her tone excited. I loved her; she always showed interest in whatever was going on with me.
“I was sitting at Frenchy’s eating by myself and these two ladies came up to me.” I paused and looked around at the cars lining up in the drive thru. “They said that I was their niece.”
“Girl, stop it. They are lying to you. How is that?”
“They said Momma messed around with their married brother and had me, while she was married to Daddy and that’s why they divorced.”
“Madison, how is that possible? Momma and Daddy divorced when you were almost eighteen.” She paused. “Who would wait eighteen years after an affair to get a divorce?”
She didn’t know it, but she was destroying my theory and desire of finally belonging. “I should call Daddy and ask; I just talked to him before I got here.”
“Don’t you dare,” she continued, “If Daddy was mad at Momma about you; Aiden wouldn’t be here, either.”
“What if Aiden is not Daddy’s either?” I twirled my finger around my hair.
“Madison, cut it out. Aiden looks just like Daddy,” her voice elevated.
“I don’t think so. He looks like mom to me. So, we really don’t know who his dad is either.” I mumbled and rested my elbow on the steering wheel.
“Madison! You are out of line?”
“What? No, I’m not! What if Momma is a hoe?”
She sighed, “I can’t with you today.”
Our conversation had gone differently than I had planned. I expected support.
“Okay, hear me out. Do you remember when they argued all the time, all of my high school years before they finally divorced? I thought Daddy had done something, because Momma did all the yelling. The arguments had to be about me, they’ve been telling lies all these years.”
“Madison, that is not true,” she yelled.
“You don’t know.” I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand. I didn’t understand then, but it’s all clear to me now… everybody started to treat me differently.
“That is complete nonsense,” her voice filled with frustration.
“No, it’s not,” my voice trembled. She didn’t respond, so I continued, “And Shay, I look just like the lady. So identical, I could be her daughter.” I waited, still no response. “She gave me her number.”
“Goodbye, Madison.”
My jaw clinched and I took one long sniff as a sign to suck it up, because that was the last time I would cry about how my family treated me. Shay knew I was telling the truth. She had never hung up on me because she knew that pissed me off and everybody in the family knew what I did when I got pissed off.
JEAN
I always wanted a strong and noble man for a son-in-law. I watched Troy as he got out of the car, adjusted his ball cap, and rushed up the driveway toward the front door.
I swung the door open. “Hi Troy, come on in.” I waved him into the house.
“I sure do appreciate you stopping by to look at my refrigerator.”
“Come on, Mom. You know I’ll do anything for you.” His eyes beamed sincerity. Even after him and my trifling daughter, Ebony divorced three years ago, he’d always help with whatever I needed after Bill passed away.
They really needed a break, but I’d wanted them to fight for their marriage, because both of them cheated. Who hasn’t? I wanted them back together. Happiness is really not that difficult.
“How are you and Ebony doing?” I followed him into the kitchen. “How long have you been back together?”
“Ms. Jean Hawthorn, what are you talking about?” He gasped.
“Troy, I’ve been around a long time and the streets talk.”
“What are the streets saying?” his voice dripped sarcasm.
“That you two are back together.”
“Oh.” He busied himself pulling the refrigerator from the wall.
“Well, anyway, how is Madison?” She was my middle grandchild who always seemed so sad or mad. I always pray for her.
“She’s fine. I talked to her earlier. She’ll take her finals soon, then I’ll help her move to my place,” Troy said.
“Oh, that’s good. She told me she would do it. Praise God, she pressed through.” I clapped.
“Yeah, things were difficult for her, but she graduates in a few weeks so she’ll be officially out of my pocket.” He smiled. “Madison is my daughter. Don’t get me wrong, I was mad at Ebony; I was wrong for shutting Madison out. It took me some time, but I eventually came around.”
“Yes, you did. You’re such a good man, Troy.”
“I try, but it’s not always appreciated.”
I fiddled with the canisters on the cabinet. “You know Chester is causing trouble again.”
He turned toward me, his eyebrows almost touching.
“Yeah, Ms. Essie called me earlier. His sisters told Madison—”
He dropped the wrench. “What? I talked to Madison and she didn’t mention it.” His shoulders visibly moved up and down.
MADISON
One week had passed since I found out about my biological father. I couldn’t focus; I went from angry to happy to sad to wanting to seek
revenge. I wanted to tell my parents, but I didn’t know exactly how to approach them. I thought about the times I longed for my parents to just include me, talk to me, and support me. I wanted them to at least act like they cared. Grandma Jean with her poised and put together polyester was more supportive than them and I appreciated her for that.
I sat in the middle of my twin-sized bed taking deep breathes. The tiny dorm room, cold tiled floor, and beige walls made me feel like I was in a psych ward. I curled into a ball and closed my eyes. I dreamed of revenge and the confusion of how to seek it didn’t escape me. I didn’t know if I wanted to call them together, torch the house or hold them hostage and take them out one by one, execution style. I had no desire to go to jail so I resolved to continuous embarrassment to the Brown clan and unfortunately Grandma Jean, well, she’s just guilty by association.
I had stared at that phone number scribbled on the back of a MD Anderson business card for hours. I needed to study, but I wanted to see what else “my aunt” had to say. I sat up, pulled my knees into my chest and dialed the number.
She answered on the first ring. “Hello, this is Joyce.”
“Hi Ms. Joyce, this is Madison. The young lady you…”
“Oh, I know who it is. My niece. How you doing, baby?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” I smiled. “Umm, can I meet my real dad, can I meet Chester?” I rocked back and forth.
“Sure, you can. I already told him I ran into you.”
“Okay, I can meet him somewhere.”
I met them the next day at the Starbuck’s on Scott Street near campus. I got out of the car and my legs were wobbly, -my heart was pounding as if it would beat visibly through my sweater. My biological dad, Chester and my Aunt Joyce were sitting at the table in the corner. He twirled his thumbs one around the other as I approached. He stood up, took a few steps, and embraced me. I looked a lot like him. We spent four hours together. His stories were fascinating. He got divorced after the affair, had remarried, but his wife died in a car crash two years ago. And I have another brother.
The Ex Chronicles Page 11