“Fifty dollars? I’ve only been here for a few hours!” she said with a look of disbelief on her face.
“Ma’am, that’s how much it costs to park here—read the sign,” the red-nosed white man replied flatly.
That coffee had to be caffeinated, Tamara thought while looking at the man miserably. Her head was throbbing in earnest now, and suddenly she wanted badly to be out of this neighborhood and out of the city itself. With no energy left to barter, Tamara sighed, reached into her purse, and handed three twenties to the waiting attendant.
“Thanks, miss!” he said in voice that was a little less flat, before shooting her a quick facial gesture that resembled a smile.
Tamara didn’t have the heart to tell the man she hadn’t intended to give him a tip, and so, chalking the other ten up as a loss, without speaking, she hobbled slowly and painfully to her car. Once inside the automobile, gratefully Tamara removed her shoe, careful not to touch her irritated heel again. Cell phone in hand, she dialed Denise Jackson’s number.
Mrs. Jackson, as usual, was completely supportive, cheerfully agreeing to pick up Sienna at school so the teen could spend that night with her while Tamara was out of town. Thankfully, Sienna liked the woman, too, and was excited about staying, since she and Sabrina were growing to be closer friends day by day.
The phone rang several times before Sienna’s voice at the other end of the line caught her off guard.
“Hello,” the girl said.
“Sienna, is that you?” asked Tamara, even though by then she’d recognized her voice.
“Yeah . . . it’s me.”
Then the girl seemed to catch Tamara’s voice, too. “Tamara, is this you? Are you okay?”
To her surprise, Tamara could clearly hear anxiety in the teen’s voice. “I am just fine. I was checking on you.”
The girl’s tone became insolent then. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me! You was the one who took off and went up there to Chicago all by yo’self. I’m from Chicago, but you must not know anything can happen to you there, or maybe you just don’t care! Anyway, here’s Mrs. J,” she said, and without allowing Tamara time to comment, she was gone.
“Tamara?” asked Denise Jackson.
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson, it is me. Thanks again for picking up Sienna for me today. She’s behaving a little strangely, though . . . I know Sienna wanted to spend the night with you and Sabrina, but just now she sounded upset with me for some reason.” Without waiting for Mrs. Jackson to respond, Tamara added, “I just wanted to give you a quick call, to check on her, and let you know I’m running a little late. I’m still here in Chicago, but I will just be leaving the city in a moment.”
“Okay, Tamara.” The woman lowered her voice to a whisper. “Baby, Sienna’s just upset because she is worried. Let me tell you something, Tamara Britton, this little girl of yours is just crazy ’bout you. Don’t you let her fool you if she act like she ain’t. She ain’t done nothin’ but ask me ’bout you ever since she got here.”
Mrs. Jackson’s statement caught her completely by surprise, and she replied, “Are we sure we’re talking about Sienna? Crazy about me?” She laughed dryly, “Mrs. Jackson, you must be mistaken.”
Denise Jackson laughed throatily to herself then and said, “Oh, I’m not mistaken, baby girl; don’t let her fool you. Sienna really does love you. I know about these things now!” Then, abruptly, the woman changed the subject. “Tamara, baby, let me get offa here. I gotta get back in here and finish up dinner, and we will see you when you pick Sienna up tomorrow. Don’t forget to give me a quick call tonight, though, to let me know you made it okay, when you get home. I worry about you—you becoming like one of my own, too.” She laughed again, “And anyway, that girl of yours ain’t gone let anybody get a wink of sleep if you don’t!”
“Okay, I’ll do that,” said Tamara softly.
Denise added, “You be careful on that expressway, too—them city folks drive like fools up there.”
Tamara mustered a small laugh even though her head was beginning to thump harder now. “You are right about that, Mrs. Jackson, but I’ll be just fine.”
Tamara attacked the Dan Ryan Expressway much more confidently on her exit from the city, actually managing to maneuver her way out of Chicago quickly. While driving, she thought peevishly that the long trip certainly had not proved as fruitful as she would have liked. Though she knew Maurice Lewis III better now, Benzo Taylor’s information had sent her right back where she started: home to her own neck of the woods to search for him.
Out of the city, on the straightaway toward home, Tamara let her mind wander, and it drifted back to Denise Jackson’s words about Sienna. Crazy about me? That is not possible, is it? Tamara had just not counted on the girl’s growing close to her when she agreed to allow her to live in her home. In fact, the last thing she wanted was emotional ties with anyone, and this whole situation with Sienna was just supposed to be a temporary living arrangement.
Tamara knew by now that too much emotion in any form made her uncomfortable, and so she worked hard to keep her own feelings in check, choosing to focus instead on the tangible and practical things that she could control in her life. In fact, just thinking about all these feelings now was causing her to feel dangerously unsettled. Rubbing her aching forehead with one hand, she sighed and forced herself to focus on the highway.
Feeling a cramp threatening in her overtaxed leg, Tamara stretched her sore left foot out before arching the toe downward to stretch it after all the walking she’d done earlier. Distractedly, she pulled the foot back too quickly, though, hitting the leather seat squarely with her raw heel. “Ouch!” she yelled, and the unexpected burning pain caused tears to spring into her eyes.
Jerkily she pulled the Toyota over to the shoulder of the highway and sat there crying like a baby while carefully holding her foot in her lap, until the stinging subsided a bit. While an overreaction to some extent, the burning pain provided Tamara with an ample excuse to release all the pent-up emotions she’d been holding inside. Almost ten minutes later her sobs finally slowed, and though still hiccupping and sniffling, Tamara was finally able to maneuver her midsize car back onto the highway.
What is wrong with me? she thought miserably as she peered down the highway through swollen eyes. Tamara knew the answer to that question, though; she knew exactly what was bothering her. Her life had changed in more ways than she’d bargained for since Sienna moved in with her. And part of her was quite certain that she did not like it at all!
26.
Hostile Takeover
Weeks later, Tamara tiredly turned her car into the circular road leading to her parking lot and sighed with relief that the long day was finally winding down. Right away she noticed lights glowing brightly yellow from each window of her apartment. That’s strange, she thought, usually when I come home, Sienna only has the small light on in the front room. She was used to that familiar, welcoming glow reflecting through the pale yellow front-room curtains.
Her heart caught tightly in her chest, and she tried to quell the panic she felt suddenly as she thought, What if something’s happened to Sienna? Alarmed now, she hurriedly parked in her assigned space, grabbed her briefcase quickly, opened the door, and stepped out of the car. As soon as she shut the car door and turned to lock it, she could hear the loud thumping of music, much like the unpleasant bass line emanating far too often from teenagers’ low-riding cars.
“That can’t be music!” she said aloud. The apartment complex was usually very quiet, and the peaceful atmosphere was one of the reasons she had lived here so long.
Quickly she walked toward her apartment, and as she got closer, she realized with shock that the loud thumping sound in the air was coming from her own apartment! In fact, the music sounded like a CD she’d heard Sienna play before. Oh, no, she thought before glancing both ways as she hastily twisted the key in the lock, what can my neighbors be thinking about this? More anxious than ever to get inside now, she pushed the door,
but it did not open. The top deadbolt had been locked from the inside.
Now certain that this was Sienna’s handiwork, she fumbled for her deadbolt key with her one free hand as she said under her breath incredulously, “She’s locked me out of my apartment!”
Finally, she found the key and, with a trembling hand, put it in the top lock and opened the door.
The same type of loud, lewd rap lyrics that she’d chided the girl about before pumped loudly from the CD player. Tamara rushed into the living room and tossed her briefcase toward the couch. In her haste to get to the stereo, she almost tripped on an unfamiliar platform shoe lying in the middle of the floor, before managing to turn the volume on the pulsating, rhythmic rap all the way down.
“Sienna, where are you?” she said aloud. Gazing around the room now, she noticed an unfamiliar small scattering of shoes and book bags in the front room area.
“I’m gonna see what happened to the music,” Tamara heard someone say from the hallway. Oblivious to her presence, the teenager continued, “Probably just this cheap old stereo of yours, Sienna.”
As soon as she rounded the corner into the living room, the cute brown-skinned teen’s eyes widened once she saw Tamara standing there.
For a moment Tamara glared at the teen steadily before stating crisply, “Sienna does not own this stereo equipment. This is my stereo equipment, and for your information, it is not cheap. In fact, it is top of the line and was quite costly.”
Tamara’s clipped words were unplanned, and while it was unlike her to speak out in such a manner, she was not sorry. In fact, she realized that it had actually been quite liberating to do so.
The girl stood there, obviously too shocked to speak; then her lips formed an O, and she half walked, half ran from the room without saying a word. In a few seconds Tamara heard the familiar footfalls of Sienna in the hallway.
Throwing a nonchalant look her way, Sienna tossed out, “Oh, Tam, girl, I didn’t know you was home.” Then, totally ignoring Tamara’s nonplussed expression, she continued, “Why you turn the music down, anyway? We was getting our jam on.”
“Girl?” replied Tamara incredulously. “Do not address me like that again, and for your information I turned the music off because it was way, way too loud. I do have neighbors, you know.”
The girl postured in a streetwise manner, “Aw, girl—Tamara, I mean—the neighbors prob’ly like this kinda music, too. They know that Ja Rule is the sh—stuff.”
Tamara glared at her unbelievingly for several moments and then sighed deeply when she abruptly remembered they were not alone. Where was the girl who fled the room so quickly moments before?
Turning her attention back to Sienna, she admonished her, “Sienna, you know that you are not to have anyone over while I’m at work.”
With an insolent tilt of her small head, Sienna shrugged her shoulders and tightened her lips but said nothing.
Tamara crossed her arms meaningfully in front of her and said firmly, “Please tell your friends to leave.”
When the girl did not move for a few seconds, she added, “Now!”
Seconds passed, and Sienna turned around, surprisingly mum, and stalked out of the living room. After Sienna stomped loudly through the hallway, Tamara heard her say, “Y’all just get yo’ stuff and go on home now. As you can see, somebody is home and she don’t want nobody in her house.”
She’s got her nerve acting as if I’m the one wrong, Tamara thought while busily picking up small odds and ends scattered around the living room. Agitated anew, she ignored them when they came in to pick up their books and backpacks. The teen she’d spoken to earlier stopped in front of her hesitantly and said, “E-e-excuse me, I n-need to get my shoe.” Clearly embarrassed, the girl picked up the errant shoe quickly, grabbed her backpack, and turned hurriedly into the hallway.
“I told you we shouldn’t have turned it up so loud,” she heard the girl say to Sienna.
A young man’s voice added, “And at least we could’ve been listening to some Hezekiah or some other gospel, and she wouldn’t have gotten mad about the words.”
“Shut up, Terry!” said Sienna loudly. “Bye, Sabrina!”
After hearing the slam of the front door, Tamara glanced up just in time to see Sienna return from escorting her friends out.
Purposely refusing to offer the girl eye contact, Tamara busily wiped invisible debris from under the sofa pillows before fluffing them and then began to stack and arrange the magazines and books that were haphazardly lying around.
“Sienna, you did not answer my question earlier. Why did you have people over here when I was not home? We have spoken about this before, and you are well aware that you are disobeying a household rule when you do so.”
The girl scowled back at her and crossed her arms defiantly. “Well, some nights seems like you ain’t never comin’ home. I get tired of stayin’ in this ol’ apartment by myself.”
Tamara continued to arrange the magazines, moving them to the glass-top table now, as she pointed out calmly, “Sienna, you know that I have to work late sometimes. Don’t I always leave you money so that you can order you a pizza or have Chinese delivered?”
“Ain’t nobody said you didn’t feed me.”
Tamara stopped her busy movement for a moment and glanced over at Sienna, still standing by the doorway.
Unexpectedly, she felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the girl spending so many hours alone, and quietly commented, “I’m just not sure what else you would have me do, then, Sienna. I do have a job. I am sorry you’re home alone, but you are not to have parties in my home when I am not here.”
The girl looked down at her white-socked feet. “Wasn’t nobody havin’ no party or nothin’. It wasn’t nobody but Sabrina and Terry, and we was studying, anyway.”
“That was Denise Jackson’s Sabrina and Terry? Nonetheless, what I heard when I came in here was not studying. I heard lewd rap music playing, and you disrespected the neighbors and me by having that vulgar music playing loudly.”
“I did not have no lewd music playing.” The girl paused a minute then and asked, “What’s ‘lewd’ mean anyway?”
Tamara stifled an unexpected smile as she replied, “‘Disgusting’—it means ‘disgusting,’ Sienna.”
To Tamara’s grateful astonishment, Sienna said nothing. Instead, during the short silence that followed, she seemed to contemplate the situation while leaning in the entranceway, watching one small foot that she was twisting into an indentation she’d made with her toe in the plush carpet.
Deep in their own thoughts, they both jumped at the extraordinarily loud and off-key sound of the telephone’s ring disrupting the silence.
Clearly happy for a reprieve from the admonishment she was receiving, Sienna almost ran over to the telephone and hurriedly picked up the receiver.
“Hello,” she said, and then widened her eyes expressively at Tamara, who was staring at her with curiosity, wondering just who it was at the other end of the line.
Without saying another word, the girl handed the receiver to her.
“Hello?” Tamara said tentatively, as she leaned back on the couch.
Sienna grabbed the remote before plopping down loudly next to her and clicking on the television.
“Ms. Britton? This is Mr. Perry.”
“Mr. Perry?” she repeated, now gazing at Sienna, who was staring back at her mirthfully, wearing a mischievous smile on her gamine face.
“Oh, maybe you don’t remember me,” the man said in his husky voice. “I am Sienna’s African-American History teacher.”
“I—I—I remember you,” she said haltingly.
In fact, just that quickly his deep-brown, handsome face had appeared quite plainly in her mind. Then, just as effortlessly, she envisioned his wide, white smile, and she was even surprised to recall clearly that his two front teeth were separated by a small gap.
Isaiah’s voice shook her back into reality. “Ms. Britton, I’m calling to tell you abou
t Sienna’s progress in my class.”
“Please don’t tell me she’s doing anything wrong,” she replied, immediately concerned as she stared at the girl. Sienna petulantly folded her arms in front of her and pushed out her lips at Tamara’s comment before turning again toward the television, using the remote to turn quickly from channel to channel.
“Oh, no, just the opposite. Actually, since our meeting, Sienna’s been doing a great job, and I just wanted you to know!”
“Really?”
“She’s completing her homework assignments now, and as I said before, she was always quite active in class participation. In fact, as of now she’s pulling a solid B in my class.”
“Really?” she asked again, chiding herself instantly for so foolishly repeating the same word as if that were the extent of her vocabulary. Unbelievably, the same odd thing was happening to Tamara again! Each time she spoke to Isaiah Perry, her brain went blank and her tongue seemed to freeze. Why, the man probably thought she was an imbecile or, at the least, someone with a very small vocabulary!
“Yes, Ms. Britton, really.” He paused a moment and then added, “I really don’t think you are that shocked. In fact, I’m sure you know Sienna is quite intelligent. Like a lot of young people, she just needs to apply herself.”
Tamara looked over at Sienna; the girl’s posture was rigid. Tamara seriously doubted that she was as immersed in the television as she appeared to be. Though Sienna was doing her best to act uninterested in the conversation, Tamara was certain that the girl was probably listening to every word.
Isaiah Perry’s positive comments about the teen proved so uplifting to Tamara that she finally regained her poise enough to respond wholeheartedly, “I do agree, Mr. Perry. Sienna is a very intelligent young lady. She has the ability to go very far in her life if she chooses to do so.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl relax, and then, with her eyes on the television set, Sienna pushed herself back on the sofa until she was sitting right next to Tamara.
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