I Know I've Been Changed

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I Know I've Been Changed Page 4

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley


  “Mama, what’s wrong?” I asked softly, forgetting her request to call her by her first name.

  “Just be quiet! Okay? Why the hell can’t you just do what I tell you to do?” she snapped viciously. I sank into the seat, fighting back tears and vowing not to say another word.

  We all sat in silence for what seemed like eternity. Rose finally spoke. “Get out.”

  Not understanding what she meant, none of us moved.

  “I said, get out. Sugar Smack, get the twins.” Sugar Smack was my nickname. Given to me, Rose said, because all I ever wanted to eat was Sugar Smacks cereal. “Shondella, get your suitcase.” Rose stared straight ahead as she spoke. Shondella opened the door, got out, walked around to the back, and pulled out one huge suitcase from the trunk. We had watched Rose throw all of our meager belongings into that one oversize, raggedy suitcase. We didn’t question her then. Just like we didn’t question her now. Shondella slammed the trunk closed. I still hadn’t moved.

  “Sugar Smack, I’m not gon’ tell you again. Get the babies and get out.” Rose still didn’t turn around and look at me.

  I jumped and quickly started removing Justin from his car seat. He had woken up and was giggling and laughing, oblivious to what was going on. To be quite honest, I didn’t have a clue either. I handed him to Shondella, then unstrapped Jasmine and pulled her out of the car seat. I looked to Shondella for answers, but she wasn’t much help. She was standing there with a scowl across her face.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered as I took my place next to her.

  “Stop asking so many questions,” she snapped.

  I was getting frustrated. Here we were in some strange place called Sweet Poke, at a dirt-filled gas station in the middle of the night, being ordered out of the car by our mother.

  Rose rolled her window down. “Come here,” she called out.

  I adjusted Jasmine on my hip and followed Shondella to the car window.

  “Look, I thought long and hard about this. And I ain’t got no choice.” She swallowed, then took a deep breath. “I love y’all. Don’t let no one ever tell y’all otherwise. Someone will be here shortly. They family. They gon’ come through.” She sounded more like she was talking to herself than to us. “I’m not a bad person, I just made some bad decisions. Having you kids was a bad decision.”

  “This is because of Sam, ain’t it?” Shondella shouted. She was on the verge of tears. That just added to my fear because my sister was hard, even as a little girl, and she seldom cried about anything. “I heard him! I heard him tell you he couldn’t be with you ’cause he didn’t want no damn kids.”

  Rose thrust her finger toward us. “I know you better watch your mouth, little girl. I’m still your mama.”

  “Mothers don’t leave their kids at gas stations in strange places in the middle of the night!” Shondella stormed off and went and leaned against a gas pump.

  I thought Rose would go after her and beat her real good. I just knew our mother wouldn’t tolerate Shondella talking to her like that.

  I loosened Jasmine’s grip on my hair. “Mama, you not gon’ leave us here, huh?”

  Rose lit another cigarette. “Sugar Smack, you just too young to understand.” She inhaled deeply on the cigarette, then exhaled, blowing the smoke in little rings into the air. I used to think it was cool to see my mama do that. But at that moment, I wasn’t impressed. “Shondella just mad right now,” Rose continued. “One day you will understand why I’m doing this.”

  I started to cry, which caused Jasmine to cry as well. “No, Mama. Please don’t leave us!”

  Rose took another long drag on her cigarette. “I called your grandma. She said she wouldn’t come, but she will. I know she will.” Rose started the car up and my tears started coming faster. I threw myself on her car door, almost dropping Jasmine. “Mama, please, don’t leave us here!”

  Shondella had appeared beside me. She shifted Justin in her arms and rubbed Jasmine’s hair with her free hand. “Stop all that damn crying. And stop begging her. Let her go.”

  “You’re just being mean again!” I screamed at Shondella, then turned back to Rose. “Mama, we’ll be good. We promise. Shondella, tell her. Tell her you’ll stop being bad!”

  “Stupid, she would rather be with that old, bald-headed, fat-ass boyfriend of hers than take care of her own kids, so forget her,” Shondella said.

  I was speechless. Shondella was about to get it for sure now. No way could Mama let her get away with saying something like that, let alone curse.

  I felt the car move and looked as Rose put the car in drive. A tear was trickling down her cheek. “Nooo! Mama, she didn’t mean it. Shondella, tell her you didn’t mean it!”

  “I meant every word.” Shondella’s nostrils were flared. A defiant look was across her face and she was desperately trying to fight back tears. Justin and Jasmine had both started crying as well. The silence of the night had been pierced by the sounds of my sister cursing, my baby brother and sister wailing, and my sobbing. Then, finally, there was the sound of tires as they screeched out into the street.

  That was the last time I’d see my mother for seven years. She and Sam moved from Lake Charles, and nobody, including Mama Tee, had any idea where they went. The sad part was Sam had not only been my daddy’s best friend, he was the man who had taken his life. He had shot my daddy to death in a game of craps and got off because he convinced a judge it was self-defense.

  Even still, I tried reaching out to Rose when I was twelve, after we found her secretly living in Camden, Arkansas, another small town just two hours away. Somebody was visiting relatives up there, spotted Rose, and told Mama Tee. I only found out about it because I overheard Mama Tee talking to Auntie Mel about it.

  I was excited when I found out where Rose was. I really put forth an effort to establish a relationship with her, writing her letters after I discovered her address written down in Mama Tee’s phone book. None of my letters was ever answered. I even hitchhiked one time to her home, only to find out she’d moved again. Then on top of that, Mama Tee beat me silly for leaving Sweet Poke.

  The night Rose dropped us off, my grandmother did show up. She came shortly after Rose drove off. She must have called Rose everything but a child of God. We had sat in silence as we made our way back to Mama Tee’s house. We had only visited Mama Tee once, when I was about four. She and Rose didn’t get along, and Rose hated Sweet Poke. So we didn’t even know what to expect.

  Mama Tee took us in and eventually we healed from Rose’s desertion. Or healed as best we could. For years, Rose never called us. Then one day, when I was fifteen, she just showed up out of the blue. We found out Sam had run off with another woman. So I guess she wanted us back. Shondella wouldn’t even stay in the same room with her. Justin had no clue who she was, and me, I tried to listen to what she had to say, even though it was going in one ear and out the other. When she asked where Jasmine was, I lost it, and Mama Tee finally made her leave. She didn’t even know her own child had died. How pathetic was that? Then, before she left, she had the nerve to ask us to call her Mama.

  I shook off thoughts of my family as I pulled into the Day Spa. I said a silent prayer that they would be able to squeeze me in. I should’ve called on my way over, but I was lost in thought and it hadn’t even crossed my mind. But for all the money I spent there, they’d better fit me in.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Rollins,” the receptionist said as soon as I walked in. She looked down at her appointment book. “I didn’t know you had an appointment today.”

  “I don’t. But I need a session with Raul.”

  “Oh, he’s pretty booked today.”

  “I have to have a session with Raul,” I pleaded.

  She looked at me and I guess the stress showed across my face because her expression softened. “You know what? Since you’re such a valued client, I’m sure Raul would be willing to forgo his lunch break to squeeze you in. Let me check.”

  I smiled gratefully. I was
willing to beg Raul, pay double, anything to lie in the relaxing seascape room while Raul worked his magical hands up and down my body.

  A few minutes later, the tall, handsome Italian masseur emerged from the back. “Madame Rollins.” He took my hand and gently kissed it. “So wonderful to see you. I was just about to meet a friend for an early lunch, but since you’re so much cuter than him, I will reschedule.” He flashed an enchanting smile.

  “Raul, I am forever indebted to you.”

  “Come, come. Let me ease that tension from your body.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “It is. But I have just the thing for that.” He wiggled his fingers in the air as I smiled and followed him into the back.

  Chapter 5

  “You still mad at me?” Myles was leaning up against the frame of my front door.

  “May I help you?” I tried to be cold, but the truth is, seeing Myles standing there in his three-piece, tailored suit warmed me from the inside out.

  “Oh, so it’s like that, now?” A sly grin spread across Myles’s face.

  “It’s how you make it.” I leaned against the door, still not moving.

  Myles sighed and motioned toward my living room. “May I come in?”

  “You sure you have time?” I didn’t mean to be difficult, but I was getting sick of Myles only fitting me into his schedule when he found time.

  “Okay, since you want to be like that, I guess I’ll just have to take this and go give it to the homeless woman I passed on the street on my way over here.” Myles reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long, rectangular Tiffany box with a huge white bow on it.

  I pursed my lips and, just as he was about to turn away, called out, “I guess you can come in.”

  He smiled again. “That’s what I thought.” I opened the door all the way and let him pass. He strutted in, took off his jacket, and threw it across the chair. He reeked with confidence. It would have pissed me off if he weren’t so dang cute. “Now, why should I give you this?” he asked as he waved the box around.

  It was my turn to smile. I felt like a giddy kid at Christmas. “Because it’s your way of apologizing for being an insensitive jerk.” I reached for the box. He pulled it back just out of my reach.

  “I don’t believe I was insensitive, but I do apologize that you had to go to the play by yourself.”

  “I didn’t go at all. My tickets went to waste. You owe me two hundred dollars. Now give me my present.”

  Myles handed the box to me, letting his hand linger on mine. “I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  I took the box, tore the ribbon off, and opened it. It was a pink ruby tennis bracelet. It was beautiful.

  “Ooooohhhh,” I squealed as I gently pulled the bracelet out of the box. “You should have.” I slid the bracelet around my wrist.

  “You know I give my baby the best of everything.” Myles pulled me to him and kissed me passionately. I could never stay mad at Myles long. He would shower me with gifts and whisper sweet nothings until I forgot what it was I was mad about in the first place.

  I reached down and started unbuckling his trousers. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you giving me the best of everything,” I said with a wicked grin.

  Myles reached down, took my hands, and stopped me. I looked confused for a minute until he pulled my hands up to his lips and gently kissed them. “No, I’m the one who was in the doghouse. So let me show you.”

  “You should make me mad more often,” I giggled as I nuzzled Myles’s neck. We were lying on the zebra-skin rug in my living room.

  “Naw, baby,” he said as he gently stroked my hair. “I just want to make you happy.”

  We lay there in blissful silence for a few minutes before his cell phone went off. I silently blasted whoever had invented the cell phone before rolling over out of the way so he could answer it.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” I asked when he didn’t move.

  “No, the rest of the night is yours. And yours only.”

  I shrieked with delight. Yes, Myles could be a jerk sometimes, but when it all boiled down to it, I couldn’t help but feel my relationship had been made in heaven.

  Chapter 6

  I could really get used to this. I stood proudly next to Myles while he cut the ribbon for a new homeless center in a part of town called Fifth Ward. It was a historically black area that had become dilapidated over the years. It was part of Myles’s district, and he had been the spearhead behind getting the new homeless center built.

  Now, as we stood outside among a sea of smiling faces—Myles, the noble, debonair councilman, and me, the doting, beautiful girlfriend—I couldn’t help but feel that this was how life should be.

  Myles extended his hand toward me and I smiled as I stepped forward. I politely waved at the crowd. I could hear the generous applause. A scraggly figure in the back of the crowd caught my eye, mainly because she was wearing a long overcoat, a scarf and shades in the middle of May. My mind immediately went to all the nut cases my station had covered. Don’t ask me why, but she looked out of place. Myles always says I’m morbid and paranoid, but when you’ve covered as much death and destruction as I have, you can’t help but be that way.

  I eased back behind the podium. If she started firing, I didn’t want to be first in the line of fire. But just as quickly as I noticed the woman, she was gone. I shook off my paranoia and turned my attention back to the press conference. Myles was talking about how much the district meant to him. Unfortunately, it was all an act. Myles had grown up a sheltered, spoiled rich kid, getting the best of everything. But my man had game. He knew what he wanted and knew how to get it, and it didn’t hurt that he was helping people in the process.

  After the ribbon-cutting ceremony, I watched Myles continue to work the crowd. I didn’t stray too far from him, wanting to make sure everyone knew we were together.

  “Miss Rollins, I love your work on Channel 2.” I hadn’t even noticed the petite woman standing before me. She had a huge grin on her face and was clutching a pen and paper in her hands. “May I have your autograph for my son, please?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” I took the pen and paper from her. I scribbled my name and station call letters on the paper before handing it back to her.

  “I like you so much better than that Lorna lady at Channel 13,” the woman murmured.

  “That is so sweet of you. You must give me a call at the station so you can come by for a visit.”

  The woman smiled excitedly before scurrying off. I would try to return her call if she followed up on my invitation, but with the amount of calls I got each day I didn’t know how realistic that actually was.

  Myles had maneuvered his way several feet from me, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his secretary, Karen, was fawning all over him. I felt my blood rising as she brushed some lint off his jacket shoulder. Her hand lingered a little too long.

  I eased over to where Myles was, making sure to drape my arm through his, and push Karen out of the way. I ignored the sneer on her face and put on my television personality as I continued to greet people.

  We had just finished saying our last good-byes and were about to get into the car when a man stopped Myles and started talking to him. I made my way on toward the car, anxious to get home. The driver had just opened the door when I noticed the woman in the overcoat again, walking toward me. She still had on the shades and scarf, so I had no idea who she was. I was just about to jump into the car when she called my name. Normally, even that wouldn’t have stopped me, but she called me by my whole first name.

  “Hey, Raedella.” She removed her sunglasses and was now standing directly in front of me. I motioned for the driver to go on and get in the car, which he did. “It’s me, Laila,” she said after I didn’t respond. Honestly, I couldn’t respond, because this could not possibly be my cousin standing in front of me. The Laila Evans I knew was a robust young woman with a beautiful smile and warm personality. She w
as my auntie Mel’s oldest granddaughter. But this woman standing before me now was anything but beautiful.

  I knew I was standing there with my jaw hanging open as I looked her up and down but I couldn’t help it.

  She chuckled. “I know I look different now, girl. Big-city living will do that to you.”

  She was saying that as if it were a good thing.

  “Well, ain’t you gon’ say something? It’s been what, ten, fifteen years?” She hit my shoulder, almost knocking me over.

  “What happened to you?” was all I could manage to say.

  “Dang, is that any way to greet your long-lost family?” She scowled.

  I know it was rude, but I kept staring at her. She looked like she couldn’t weigh any more than a hundred pounds, and that was soaking wet. Her skin looked like it was hanging off her face. There were dark circles underneath her eyes. Her teeth were yellow and she was missing a tooth in the front.

  “I got a little hooked up on some drugs, but I’m clean now.” She held out her arms and started pushing up her coat sleeves as if I were actually going to examine her arms. I was still stunned because the Laila I remembered had always been a straight-A, prissy young woman. “I came down here with my boyfriend—you remember Janky?” She paused, I guess waiting for me to confirm or deny I knew this Janky person.

  “Anyway,” she continued after I failed to respond, “that bastard got strung out then had me strung out too. He’s up in county now, left me out here to fend for myself. I had to turn a few tricks and thangs, but I don’t even do that anymore,” she proudly exclaimed. “Now, I’m getting myself together. I live in that halfway house right over there.” She pointed to a dilapidated building across the street.

 

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