Full Figured 9

Home > Other > Full Figured 9 > Page 10
Full Figured 9 Page 10

by Carl Weber


  “I’m sorry. There is nothing we can do on how long the check will take to clear.”

  “You’re sorry? No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my husband and I ever decided to bring our business into this good-for-nothing bank. Every time I walk in here you give me a problem.”

  “I apologize that you feel that way, Mrs. Long, but it is company policy that out-of-bank checks get a seventy-two-hour hold before being cleared. Would you still like me to make the deposit for you?”

  “Forget it. I’ll take it to the bank it was written on. This one was just closer and I’m running late to an appointment,” I lied, snatching the check out of her hand.

  “Well then, is there anything else I can help you with, Mrs. Long?” she asked, sitting there batting her eyes, winning round two with me.

  “Yes, you can. You can fire your stylist. Your tracks are showing, boo.” With that, I stormed out of the bank.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JAMELA

  “Don’t tell me you forgot to bring your umbrella.”

  I jumped at the sound of a male’s baritone voice. I had just finished my Friday night shift at the restaurant, and I was at the bar area cashing out. I was so focused on my task at hand that I hadn’t even noticed Isaac approaching me. Staring up at his fine-looking self, I pulled off my gingham apron and hairnet.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said then gave me a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You’re going to have to start wearing a bell or something when you approach me,” I said. “But it’s good to see you too.” I looked at the dapper outfit he was wearing. “You look good.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, popping his collar. “And you look . . . like you forgot your umbrella.”

  “Umbrella?” I questioned. “But it’s not even raining out.”

  “It looks like you forgot all about our rain check. Get it? Umbrella? We were supposed to be having dinner tonight.”

  I threw my hand across my mouth. “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry, Isaac. I truly did forget. This week has just been so crazy.”

  I wasn’t lying about my week. Glendora had decided she wanted to send the nurses packing while she did what she should have been doing all along, which was taking care of my father. That threw me for a loop. I wasn’t sure whether she was sincere or just wanted to save money, but she was his wife. I at least had to give her a chance. I figured that her being around more often might even lift his spirits.

  I almost lost my mind, though, when I came home the night before to find that Glendora’s car was nowhere in sight. That meant she wasn’t home, which meant my father was alone. I raced into the house screaming out my father’s name. I was huffing, puffing, in a sweat and out of breath by the time I entered his room. When I barged in, I saw Glendora sitting next to my dad on his bed, reading him the paper. Now, that took me by surprise. Was it possible she had really changed?

  “I didn’t see your car outside,” I said to her as I tried to catch my breath.

  “That’s because it’s in the shop,” she said, not looking up from the paper.

  “Oh, okay then.” Everything looked fine, so I backed out of the room, feeling a little awkward about how I’d panicked for nothing. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  Glendora nodded, again not looking up from the paper. Just as I was about to close the door she called out, “Jamela.”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s leftovers in the kitchen.”

  Had I heard her correctly? She’d actually cooked and hadn’t stopped off at one of the restaurants for take-home dinner like she usually did? I had to see this for myself. I went down to the kitchen and sure enough, there was a homemade Louisiana spread, gumbo and all. It smelled so good I had to scarf up a bowl before hitting the shower.

  All day I’d been wondering what alternate universe I’d stepped into, where Glendora was properly caring for my dad and being nice to me. It had me so confused and preoccupied that I’d totally forgotten about my date with Isaac.

  “No worries. We can reschedule dinner for some other time,” Isaac said. “You’re a busy girl. I get that.”

  I felt so bad—but I looked so bad too. For once I would have liked to look halfway decent in front of this guy. Still, I felt like it would be rude to bail on a date with him again.

  “Can we at least have a cup of coffee?” I asked.

  “Sure. Sounds good to me. I mean, I was supposed to have a dinner date with this hot chick I met at the gym, but she stood me up.”

  I smiled. Thank God he had a sense of humor. “Her loss. My gain.”

  We both sat down at the bar and ordered a cup of coffee from Amanda, the barmaid.

  “I want to thank you again for the other night,” I said as Amanda placed our cups in front of us.

  He held his hand up, letting me know there was no need to thank him. “So, how is your father?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

  “He’s not doing so well. He’s been having breathing problems.” I thought about how weak he’d been looking lately. He was so stubborn though. He kept refusing to go to the hospital.

  “I want to stay home,” Daddy would protest. “If it’s my time, then it’s my time. When I go, I want it to be in my own room and in my own bed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Isaac said. “I’m sending good wishes and prayers to him.”

  “Thank you very much.” For a moment, my mood lifted.

  “What does your sister have to say about all this? She looked rather . . . messed up.” Isaac shook his head as if he didn’t want to say too much.

  I laughed. “Well, for starters she’s not my biological sister. She’s my stepsister. And about that day, it’s a long story. Let’s just say she’s got issues.”

  “Well, that explains a lot. From what I saw that day, it didn’t seem like you two were that close. And she came off like . . .” He seemed hesitant to keep talking.

  “It’s okay. You can say what’s on your mind. I won’t be offended,” I encouraged him.

  “Okay. Well, she came off like a spoiled brat, whereas you seem like a very dedicated and disciplined individual. I’ve seen you study on your breaks when I’ve been here at the restaurant. That shows a lot about a person.”

  “I didn’t know you were watching.”

  “Yes, I’ve taken notice. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not watching you on a stalker status, but I’ve had my eye on you here and there,” he said as he leaned in and smirked. I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me on purpose. If it hadn’t been for my complexion, he would’ve realized I was blushing.

  “I’ve noticed you too,” I said, deciding to flirt a little. “Noticed you haven’t been wearing your glasses.”

  “Oh, those. They’re just reading glasses,” he said. “I only need them to read the menu here, although as much as I eat here I should know the menu like the back of my hand.” He shrugged. “I don’t need glassses to see how kind to your customers you are. And you always keep a smile on your face, even the times when you look like you haven’t had any sleep,” he continued.

  “Well, thank you,” I said shyly. “Now, I’m going to be paranoid that I look sleepy while I’m at work.”

  “Stop it! You know that’s not what I was implying at all!” He laughed. “Why do women have to be so complicated, twisting up words and stuff?” he joked.

  “I’m just messing with you!” I assured him. “Seriously though, I know I should be getting more sleep. It probab-bly doesn’t help that I love coffee as much as I do,” I said, taking a sip and savoring the rich flavor.

  Even though the warm beverage slid down my throat, an icy chill rippled through me. My stomach plummeted. The good mood I was in was eclipsed by this dark feeling that came over me. I shook my head to try to get rid of the bad feeling.

  “You okay?” he asked, noticing the way I shivered.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Probably just a little too much caffeine in my system.”

  As so
on as the words left my mouth, my cell phone started to ring, and something inside my soul just knew it was not good news. I picked it up automatically, without even apologizing to Isaac for the interruption.

  “Hello,” I answered, and immediately my ears were assaulted by Glendora’s screeching.

  “Glendora, please calm down.” I stood to my feet and started pacing. “Slow down and tell me what’s the matter.”

  “It’s your dad. He had a heart attack.” She burst out crying.

  I struggled to keep it together. “What do you mean? I just saw him this morning. He was . . .” I couldn’t say he was fine, because he wasn’t. He’d been the weakest I’d seen him in a long time. “What hospital is he at? I’m on my way.”

  Glendora only said, “I’m sorry, Jamela. I’m so sorry.”

  “What do you mean, sorry? Where is he so I can get to the hospital?”

  “You don’t understand. He didn’t make it. The EMS people could not revive him. I’m sorry, Jamela, but your father is dead.”

  Suddenly the room began spinning and the phone slid out of my hand onto the bar. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and I couldn’t breathe. The last thing I remembered was everything going black and the sound of Isaac’s voice calling my name.

  As fast-paced as my life had been for the past few years, now time moved in slow motion. It might have had something to do with the Xanax and Ambien that a doctor had prescribed for me after my father’s death.

  I couldn’t believe Daddy was gone. Each day I walked into his room it broke my heart to see his bed empty. All that was there was the medical equipment. I would have given anything to hear the sound of the heart monitor beeping the way it did when it was attached to my father, but that sound was gone, just like my father. I would never be able to hear his voice again, or see his big, wide smile and the wrinkles he would get on his nose when he laughed hard.

  Glendora had been handling all of the funeral arrangements because I’d been too out of it. This was the first time in a long time I’d been relieved of the duty of having to do everything. It was a double-edged sword though. I was appalled when I found out my stepmother was being so cheap with the funeral arrangements. She wanted the cheapest casket and was asking for the cheapest package at the funeral parlor. It was insulting to see what she was doing, especially after everything my father did for her and her no-good children. My father was a good man, and he deserved better. I refused to allow her to do him like that, so I went behind her back and began handling the funeral arrangements.

  I somehow managed to set my emotions aside and move forward with finances and paperwork. I went through the motions as though I was looking down at someone else. Almost like I was having an out-of-body experience. I don’t even remember what was said between me and my crazy stepmother when she confronted me about taking everything over. I just remember that she finally stepped out of my way when she realized how determined I was to give my father a proper burial.

  I picked out his suit. I picked the flowers. I chose the songs. I can’t remember all the food that the neighbors brought to the house, and I can’t remember all the flowers or the cards from his employees, his church, or his friends. I can’t even remember how packed the church was. I was just existing, doped up and high. It was hard to believe Brielle had a drug problem, that she actually liked feeling this way, but I also wouldn’t want to be going through this unmedicated. For me, it was either this or facing the unbearable pain of losing my father. In time, I knew I’d be all right and be able to function on my own, but not yet.

  During the funeral I didn’t pay my phony stepmother or my drug-addict stepsister any attention as they put on a show, screaming and hollering. I vaguely remember that Brendon wasn’t able to come to the funeral. He couldn’t leave the state he was in, out on bond or something crazy. I couldn’t have cared less. I’d been so happy the day I found out he was moving out, and the last thing I wanted was for him to come back—especially now. God forbid he would try to stay and become the so-called man of the house.

  Throughout it all, I couldn’t cry. I was so numb.

  The only thing I remembered clearly through this dark fog was standing at the gravesite, listening to our minister, Bishop O’Conner, intoning in his deep voice, “Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We commit your beloved son, Victor Long, back to the earth.”

  Through a mist, I vaguely remember feeling an arm go around me. I glanced up to see Isaac’s face. It was amazing how God had put him in my life at just the right moment. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had anyone to lean on during my time of bereavement.

  Exhausted, I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked back to the funeral cars. I didn’t know what it was about this man that put me at such peace. He had no obligation to be there for me. We had only spoken to each other about three times, yet he was the only person at the burial who was there for me.

  There were no words exchanged between us. We just walked in silence. When he arrived to the black Lincoln Town Car, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t expecting him to do that, and it felt a little strange at first, but while he kept holding me close, I turned my head to the side and laid it on his chest. In the serene quietness of the cemetery, I could faintly hear his heartbeat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He scent was intoxicating. I couldn’t pinpoint what the cologne was, but the smell was familiar to me.

  Just then, he grabbed my head and made me look up at him. Again, he didn’t say anything. He looked into my eyes and leaned his face down toward me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

  “It’s all right, Jamela. Let it out.” He finally spoke as he put my head back down on his chest.

  That’s when I completely lost it. I broke down and cried. I cried because I was not there for my dad when he took his last breath. I cried because I hadn’t sent him back to the hospital. I should have never agreed with Glendora to give the nurses a break. Maybe he would’ve made it. I cried because I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.

  “My dad was my rock,” I said, sobbing.

  “He’s still your rock. I know your dad is watching over you,” Isaac said as he continued to hold me, “and I am here too, Jamela. I’m not going anywhere.”

  In a world where I felt alone most of the time, his words were exactly what I needed to hear. The only man’s arms I’d ever felt this safe in were my dad’s. Looked like God hadn’t wasted any time in replacing him. Unlike Brielle and Brendon, I wouldn’t have a void in my life that I had to fill with drugs and gangs. I had Isaac.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BRIELLE

  I’d never understand how the fat girls were always getting the best-looking guys these days. Whenever I was out shopping, I would see some big girls walking hand in hand with a fly-looking guy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I had nothing against big girls. I just couldn’t get why or how they could pull good-looking guys like that. Guys are supposed to like tall, skinny girls for the most part, not the frumpy, chubby-looking ones.

  So why did it bother me so much to see Jamela being comforted by Isaac? Perhaps because I didn’t give a damn about the dudes in the mall, but this Isaac—my Lord! I hadn’t crushed this hard since I was in high school.

  I remember back in eleventh grade, I had the biggest crush on this boy named James. I would see him in the cafeteria during lunch, and I always made sure to flirt with him and sit at his table. As much as I would try to get his attention, though, he didn’t really pay me any mind. Instead he would laugh and crack jokes with my friend Jackie. It would piss me off when he ignored me and talked to Jackie almost the entire lunch period. Heifer wasn’t even pretty. She was my ugly friend, which was why I always brought her with me whenever I would try to talk to James.

  You see, my mom taught me from when I was a little girl to always make sure I was the prettiest and best-looking one in my circle of friends. You can have friends who are kind of pretty or easy on the eyes, but you never keep girlfriends who look better than y
ou. And no matter what, you have to make sure to have that friend who, no matter how hard she tries to dress up or wear makeup, she’s still either fat or ugly. That way when you go out and boys or people see the group, you will always be the best-looking one. It was a lot for me to take in when I was little because I just wanted to have all my friends and I didn’t care if they were pretty or any of that, but the older I got, the more I understood what my mom meant.

  For the most part the plan worked. Whenever I would go out with my friends, I was the one who garnered the most attention from guys. In high school I had the best looks, clothes, and body out of all my friends. The only time the plan didn’t work was with that asshole James. I guess he liked them ugly, because by the time we graduated, I heard he and Jackie were dating and they even planned on going to the same university. People found it cute, but I found it sickening. If he was planning on going away to school to get a degree and start a career, why would she want to do the same? If I were her, I would’ve just stayed with my parents and waited for him to get his shit together so that I could be a nice little housewife and he could just take care of me.

  Speaking of taking care of things, things around the house had been very strange ever since Victor died. It had been a few weeks since his passing, and my mom hadn’t been herself. She would sleep all day and leave randomly at night. I had no idea when she would get home, because I was usually too busy getting my rocks off.

  Since the night I got arrested, one of my homeboys had talked me into popping E pills. That shit would make us horny as rabbits. I still did my crystals every now and then, but the E pill was my new favorite. He would come over, and we would each take one, chill on the couch until it took effect, and before we knew it, we were in my room going at it.

  With my mom being gone so much at night, we pretty much had the entire house to ourselves. Brendon had finally made it to my dad’s house in New York. Mom told me the attorney made everything “go away” and Brendon was released the same day of the hearing. She didn’t want to take the chance of him getting into any more trouble taking the Greyhound bus cross-country, so she booked him a one-way flight straight to LaGuardia Airport in New York where my dad could pick him up.

 

‹ Prev