My Daughter's Boyfriend

by Cydney Rax

  Mom teased me with a sad grin. “That’s all you can say, son? Amen?”

  “Amen,” I said, looking at my father with my head held high.

  TRACEY AND I WERE STANDING outside my dad’s room. Mom was singing hymns over his body, talking to his ear, rubbing his arms.

  “Thanks for the spiritual backup, Tracey.”

  She blushed.

  “I don’t mean this the way it sounds, but . . . I didn’t know you knew stuff like that, Tracey.”

  “I didn’t either. I mean, I know that passage, but hadn’t thought about it in a long time. As a matter of fact, just recently I went through an experience where I couldn’t think of a biblical verse to save my life. The words just wouldn’t come, until now. It gives me chills just thinking about it.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Well, with everything that’s been going on, I wanted to make sure and let you know I think everything between myself and Lauren is going to be okay.”

  “Oh yeah? What up?”

  “Well, I had the strangest, scariest experience a couple days ago. I told you how I was stuck in the car and all and Derrick happened to come and . . . well, he rescued me.”

  A man’s pride will crumble at times, and I blurted, “And now you’ve decided to be with him? Be a family?”

  “No, no.” Tracey shook her head. “I mean we held a civilized conversation. He’s even called to check on me a couple of times since then, but we’re not making plans to be together, or move in with each other. Not in the least.”

  “Oh.”

  “I was thinking more about Lauren. I was thinking how important she is to me, and how insensitive I’ve been toward her through this whole . . . experience.”

  My throat tightened like an invisible noose was being yanked hard around my neck. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything but listen. My voice disappeared as Tracey’s voice took precedence.

  “You know, sometimes it takes a crisis to pull a family together or to reestablish priorities,” she said.

  I lowered my head, slid my eyes to the floor.

  “Aaron, I’m sure you can vouch for that. I know you’ve seen your mom more times in the past few weeks than you’d normally see her. Am I right?” Her voice projected, her volume was loud. And she talked as if she really didn’t need me to answer. So I gave her the thing that was easiest to give, a nod.

  “And right now I want nothing more than to hold my daughter in my arms, and try to lessen some of her pain.” The pain of my own heart smashed my hope into a million pieces. And as much as it hurt to listen to her, I forced myself to look up.

  Yep, things were just like I feared. Tracey had this self-assured look on her face, a look of strength and purpose. A look that swept me to a forgotten corner. And I didn’t like how that felt. As though who and what I’d been to her no longer mattered. As though I was disposable. How could she replace what we had? Were the roots of our relationship that weak?

  I paused. Didn’t want to sound like a punk, but I still needed her to know where I was coming from.

  “That sounds all fine and good. But where does that leave me?”

  She blinked her eyes like she was returning from an invisible place she’d been hiding.

  “I can’t leave you, Aaron. You are too important to me, even more so right now. The way things have happened, the way they started, well, right now all I’m doing is trying to learn from them. And, as odd as it sounds, I think it’s okay for me to care about my daughter and you both at the same time. I’m determined to make this happen, Aaron. I know I want both of you in my life. And that’s the bottom line.”

  Again, I was silent. But this time the silence of fear was replaced by the silence of astonishment.

  After a one-hour conversation, Tracey and I walked out to the concourse, me to buy a bottle of soda from the vending machine, she to use her cell phone.

  It was late Saturday evening, and she wanted to know if Lauren had made it back from Dallas. Tracey looked at me and smiled.

  “She made it back safe,” she whispered, moving her mouth away from the phone.

  I nodded, smiled. Hoped that what we’d talked about that afternoon wouldn’t have to be proven again. That what we had was solid enough to get us through potentially tough times.

  “Well, Derrick, is she available? May I speak to her? I want to tell her something.”

  Tracey’s facial expression went from relief to something indescribable.

  “What did you say?”

  She pressed the phone deeper into her ear. Leaned against an ATM machine.

  “No, no, no, no. I—I don’t believe that. Put Lauren on the phone.”

  I looked at her, but she wouldn’t look at me. She just sighed hard and loud, then said, “Oh, I see.”

  Her face fell.

  She hung up.

  “What up, Trace?”

  “This is sooo weird. Lauren told Derrick she doesn’t want to live with me anymore. She’s moving out.”

  Tracey 35

  It was Sunday, the day after I was informed about Lauren’s moving out. I got no sleep that night; instead, my hours were used up in pacing through the apartment, and in trying to get in touch with Derrick, but not being able to reach him by phone.

  That afternoon I called Aaron and begged him to swing by. When I first noticed his Legend pulling up outside my apartment, I practically leaped across the balcony, my legs powered by my fears, motivated by my hopes.

  I ran down the stairs two at a time, and was tapping Aaron’s window before he could turn off the ignition.

  “Aaron,” I gasped, feeling like I could hardly breathe, “you gotta help me, please tell me what to do.”

  “Dang, Trace, it’s forty degrees outside. Where’re your shoes?”

  “What do shoes have to do with this, Aaron?”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s go upstairs.”

  As soon as we burst through the front door, I pulled him by his shirt collar.

  “Aaron, you need to talk to Lauren. She can’t move out. She can’t move out.”

  “Tracey, of course she’s not moving out, she just wants to see how you’d react. Where’s she gonna move, anyway?”

  “With Derrick. I know he put her up to this.”

  “Now, why would he do that?”

  “Hello? To get out of paying child support. If she moves in with him, he won’t have to pay child support.”

  “Nah, that doesn’t even sound right. That man has been paying child support for years, why would he stop now? Think about it.”

  “Well, what else could it be?”

  “It’s not that, Tracey. It’s not that.”

  I lifted my open hands to the ceiling and shook them incessantly, “Oh, why am I even asking you? You don’t have any kids.”

  I went into my bedroom and slammed the door.

  Came back out ten seconds later.

  “And another thing, since you know so much—”

  The front door swung wide open like it was announcing something important. Lauren entered the living room first, Derrick right behind her, his eyes crinkled, his face ashen.

  I rushed to her.

  “Lauren—”

  She held up a hand.

  “Mom, don’t have time. Gotta ton of stuff to pack,” she said, and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Aaron went to sit on the coffee table and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Tracey, how are you? Aaron.” Derrick nodded.

  “What do you mean how am I? What difference does it make, Derrick? How are you? I’m sure you want to turn cartwheels right about now, huh?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, don’t ‘what’ me, Derrick. I can’t believe all that big talk you did the other day. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be going through this.”

  “Excuse me? Tracey, I hope you don’t think I asked Lauren to move out. Because I didn’t.”

  “Well, why else
would she make this decision, Derrick? She’s not the type to make this kind of decision.”

  “Look, Tracey, when you called me yesterday, that’s the first time I heard of her wanting to move out. I didn’t know. You have to believe me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything except pay off MasterCard and die.”

  Derrick sighed real loud and massaged his forehead.

  Lauren walked calmly from her bedroom, snapping her fingers at her dad.

  “Daddy, I could use a hand. Can you help me out, please?”

  He looked at me and hesitated, but then said, “Sure. Be right there.”

  Before leaving the room he repeated, “Tracey, I honestly didn’t know.”

  “He honestly didn’t know,” I said to Aaron. “He honestly didn’t know.”

  “Tracey, would you calm down? You act like it’s the end of the world. Lauren’s almost a senior. She’d be moving out to go to college next year anyway.”

  “Oh, Aaron. What are you even talking about? If the things you’re saying don’t make sense, then don’t say anything. The last thing I need is for you to be critical and unhelpful. What are you doing here anyway?”

  Aaron threw up his hands in exasperation, and snatched up an old copy of USA Today that was sprawled on the floor.

  My hands jittered and my legs did too. I couldn’t believe all this was happening, that even after things had started to look up, life had gone and changed on me again so quick. I felt like things had gotten totally out of control and that, like times before, I was again on the losing end. I hated, hated, hated having to choose between my daughter and the guy I wanted to be with. I honestly felt we could make it work somehow, that things really didn’t have to get to this point, if we could all try and make this work. As far as I was concerned, the attraction that Aaron and Lauren had could never, ever be again, so to me, if she just let go of her anger and accepted my decisions, we could do this. Couldn’t we?

  Derrick entered the living room hauling two wicker baskets laden with pajamas, socks, and underwear. Then he went back and got tons of my daughter’s clothes, which were hanging on plastic hangers, looking like they were being taken against their will. I reached out toward her clothes, but Aaron stepped in my path and held me back. Speaking softly in my ear. Rubbing my shoulder with one strong fingertip.

  When Derrick had carted the majority of Lauren’s belongings into the living room, there was a knock at the door. Aaron left my side and answered.

  “Hey, what up?” I heard him say.

  This tall, muscular-looking guy with a crooked Afro walked through the door looking disheveled, as if he had just survived the bombing of a building. He had a metal pick in his hand and backed up until he was sitting on the edge of the couch. The guy didn’t even bother to speak to me; just looked at the floor.

  Derrick entered the room lugging a suitcase with Lauren right on his heels. She brightened when she saw the fidgety young man.

  “Hey, there. Thanks for coming.”

  “Uh, yeah,” he said and turned red.

  “Who is he, and what’s he doing here?” I asked Lauren.

  “Hey, Brad. Go help my dad carry some of my stuff,” she ordered, and whisked right by me out the door.

  I looked at Aaron, but he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  Brad obediently picked up a box filled with books and followed Lauren.

  “Hey, let me pop open the trunk,” yelled Derrick, rushing behind Brad and Lauren. Aaron and I followed everyone outside. Instead of hauling her bags to her dad’s car, Lauren set a laundry basket next to Brad’s Nissan Sentra. He fumbled with his keys so long he finally dropped them on the ground and took the longest time rising back up.

  “Wait a minute. Lauren, what’s he doing here? Who is he?” asked Derrick.

  “Aha. I thought Derrick knew everybody that Lauren hangs out with,” I mumbled to Aaron.

  “Daddy, this is Brad McMillan. He’s Aaron’s roommate. And I’d . . . I’ve decided to move in with him.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Daddy, bring the rest of my stuff over to Brad’s. This is just temporary and I—I—I’m going to be living with him.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  “Daddy,” Lauren said, the volume of her voice rising toward the sky, “I’ve already made up my mind and I’m not gonna live with Mom or you.”

  “Well, isn’t that just too bad, because I don’t care if you don’t want to live with us, Lauren, you—you—you are not moving in with this—this young man. I don’t know him.”

  Lauren blinked back tears and shot a desperate look at Brad.

  He squirmed and refused to look anybody in the eye.

  Aaron walked up to Brad and stood directly in his face.

  “What up with this, man? Why is it that Lauren wants to get with you? Last time I checked I still lived there, or are you trying to tell me something I don’t know?”

  “Hey, Aaron,” he said in a low voice, “Lauren said she just needed to crash at our place for a minute. I thought it would be cool, but I didn’t know her peeps weren’t down with this.”

  The more disdainful Derrick was, the more Lauren looked like she wanted to explode from frustration. She muttered and groaned, her bottom lip quivering. She rushed and grabbed her father by his elbow and started shaking it.

  “Look, Daddy, please, please just let me do this. I know what I’m doing and I know what I want. I don’t want to live with her anymore, and I feel if I were to move in with you, it would still be like living with Tracey Davenport.”

  “But see, Lauren, what you’re saying doesn’t even make any sense,” her dad answered.

  “Why?”

  “The fact that your mom is still with Aaron should tell you that trying to live with his roommate is the equivalent of living with your mom, too.”

  Lauren didn’t say a word. She just closed her eyes and threw back her head.

  “Lauren, baby,” I said stepping to her. “Don’t make any rash decisions right now. You need to go back inside and think about what you want, what you’re doing. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret.”

  “Oh, Mom, please,” she said, squinting at me in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable. “You don’t want me to do anything that I’d regret? Well, why don’t you think stuff like that before you make the kind of decisions you’ve made? See, that’s what I hate. You get to do whatever you want, say whatever you want to me, just because you gave birth to me, Mom? Is that even right? Wait. You don’t have to say anything. I already know what’s up, and that’s why I refuse to live up under your junk another minute. Brad, get your key and put my stuff in your car even if the shit gets broken in the process. I’m out.”

  “No, no, noooo. I am your mother and when you’re under my roof—”

  “I’m not under your roof, I’m under God’s roof.”

  “You will do what I say. You are not moving out, Lauren. Now get your dramatic behind inside that house right now before I do something you really won’t like.”

  “Tracey, don’t threaten Lauren,” Derrick said. “Y’all need to talk. You need to let Lauren tell you how she feels, whether you like it or not. And I think she’s right. You can’t just do whatever you want to do because you’re her parent. You gotta think about her feelings, and I don’t think you’ve done that at all.”

  “But, Derrick, you just don’t understand,” I cried. “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

  Aaron stepped up to us. “Hey, maybe we can nip this in the bud right now, Trace. I—I don’t want to come between y’all, so maybe we should—”

  “Uh-uh, no, no, no. That’s the last thing I want.”

  “But see, that’s just what I’m talking about. Why is everything about what you want, Mom? Why does everything have to go your way?” Lauren’s words echoed in the air. I felt embarrassed and my ears were tingling.

  Lauren snatched Brad’s keys o
ut of his hand, opened the trunk, and began throwing shoes, books, clothes, and all the rest of her belongings in the back. Brad hesitated, but began helping her when he saw Lauren shrieking, wiping away tears, and talking to herself. I stood immobile, feet feeling like lead, my brain turning to useless slush.

  My heart felt so heartless, so far removed from me, that I knew nothing would happen unless we all came to some sort of agreement.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, raising my hand, “hold up, everybody.”

  Lauren stopped crying and glared at me.

  “Okay, Lauren. If you want to move out, move. If that’s what you think you need to do, then I am releasing you . . . right now . . . to Brad McMillan.”

  A flash of dazed hurt spread across Lauren’s face, and she gave Brad a wide-eyed look.

  And within minutes, Brad and his new roommate were gone.

  IT WAS AROUND SIX O’CLOCK SUNDAY evening. Derrick and I had agreed to meet at Solomon’s Temple. When he first suggested the church as a meeting spot, I felt reluctant and nearly backed out. But he assured me that this was a good atmosphere in which to meet, that being around a peaceful place might assist me in making a sound decision.

  It had been so long since I’d been near the church grounds that I felt uncomfortable when I pulled into the parking lot. Even though only a few other cars were sprinkled here and there, I imagined that everyone and their mother could see me. But I shifted the car into Park and turned off the ignition. Saw Derrick waving at me and urging me to get out.

  Adjacent to the parking lot is an octagonal gazebo that is available twenty-four hours a day for anyone who needs a place to come when they’re troubled. The structure is made of cedar and includes padded seating and customized knee pads. I glanced at the gazebo, where Derrick was sitting, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. Gripping my purse, I took a seat next to him and watched the leaves on the towering trees flutter in the wind. It seemed as if the sounds of the wind were telling me that there was hope; that a resolution was possible.

  Derrick was saying, “There’s a mother-daughter retreat coming up the first weekend in April. If you come to services next Sunday, you can register and that’ll be the first step in making a commitment for change.”