The Johnson Sisters

by Tresser Henderson

  “I wouldn’t stop you if you did want to leave,” he said.

  “Why wouldn’t you? I’m not worth fighting for?” I asked, rushing to the bathroom behind him and getting up in his face.

  “Seriously, Serena. Why would I try to keep you somewhere you don’t want to be?” he asked.

  “At least show me you want me by fighting or begging me not to leave, or apologize to me sometimes when you do stupid things like this,” I retorted.

  “You are not making any sense. I’m not going to beg nobody to stay where they don’t want to be. That’s crazy. And can you say that if I didn’t want to be here anymore, you would try to get me to stay?” he said, frowning.

  I thought about what he said and instantly understood his thinking process. As much as I hated to agree with him, Tyree was right. If he wanted to leave, I wouldn’t beg him to stay either, so how could I want him to do something I knew I wouldn’t do myself? I dropped my head as I got caught up in my feelings. Tyree saw the sadness on my face and came closer to me.

  “Babe, come on. You know I love you, but you are not going to keep threatening to leave me. You’ve done it way too many times, and now I’m numb to it,” he explained gently.

  “I get it,” I said solemnly, trying to hold back my tears.

  “Is this stemming from the fact that I won’t marry you?” he asked, turning his back to me as he reached in the linen closet and pulled out a baby blue towel and washcloth.

  “Maybe. I still don’t understand why you won’t marry me.”

  “You knew going into this relationship with me, Serena, that I never wanted to get married. I told you about my parents and how their divorce destroyed our family,” Tyree explained.

  “But your parents are not us,” I tried to argue.

  “Again, you knew going into this relationship what it was. I never hid that from you, so for you to try to get me to do what I told I would never do pisses me off,” he said, reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

  “And it pisses me off you can’t get past a past that wasn’t your fight in the first place. That was your parents’ fight. I’m your right now, Tyree. You do love me, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Of course I do,” he said, turning to look at me honestly.

  “But not enough to put a ring on it,” I said, holding up my left hand, pointing at my fourth finger.

  “I’m sorry, Serena, but I can’t.”

  “You know what? Maybe we do need to take a better look at our situation,” I said seriously.

  “Maybe we should. All I know is I’m tired of talking about this. Nothing is going to change,” he said, sliding his shorts off. “You know as well as I do both of us have issues to work through with us and our past. Yours is checkered too, Serena. I think you want to break this curse you think has plagued the Johnson women for generations. I don’t see it as a plague. I see it as women choosing their situation that dictates their destiny. I also believe women teach men how to treat them.”

  “So I taught you how to treat me?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said convincingly.

  “What? Did I teach you to make me feel unworthy, unloved, what?”

  “The love is there and it’s real. Your worth is something you have to find within yourself. I can’t do that for you. Nor did I ask for that job. As for the lesson to be learned here, you chose to go down this road with me, and that road was clouded. I cheated. You cheated. We knew what it was. You know about my baby mama, my son, and other women I’ve been with. I know about you and the men you been with. It is what it is,” he said, pulling the curtain back farther. He took off his boxer briefs and was standing in front of me naked before stepping into the shower and closing the shower curtain.

  “So, just like that I’m supposed to accept this?”

  “You don’t have to accept anything, Serena,” he answered. “I know I want you in my life.”

  “But only as your girlfriend, not your wife?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Even though I love you, I haven’t gotten over you cheating on me, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t forgotten about me cheating on you. You want to take all of this baggage into vows said before God like it’s going to make our situation better. I’m sorry, but I’m not about to do that.”

  “It would make me feel better. All I’ve asked for is the ring. We can wait a couple of years to get married to see where our relationship takes us.”

  “You say that now. As soon as I give you the ring, then you will be hounding me about when are we getting married.”

  Tyree might have had a point.

  “I know you, Serena. As soon as you get what you want, you find something else that’s wrong and beat me over the head with it until you get that, and then so on and so on. It never ends with you.”

  “You don’t know that,” I lied because everything he was saying was the truth still. For some reason I couldn’t get out of my head that the ring would prove his love to me.

  “Who are you trying to kid? I wasn’t born yesterday. You and I have a dysfunctional relationship, and I refuse to commit to that for the rest of my life. I always knew if I ever got married, it would be ’til death do us part. I’m not ever going into it lightly. Babe, I don’t want you to leave me, but you are not going to scare me into giving you a ring. I fear God more than I fear losing you, and I will not play around when it comes to marriage.”

  What could I say to that? Even I knew I could not compete with God. Not that I would ever try to, but what Tyree was saying made sense. It angered me that it did, because I wanted what I wanted and that was the ring and then us getting married to one another.

  I don’t know how long I stood there thinking about what he said, but I finally snapped out of my thoughts and spoke to him.

  “I’m leaving, and I’m taking Nevaeh with me,” I said, giving up on this conversation, knowing it wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I thought you said you wanted me to watch her,” Tyree said, cutting off the water and opening the shower curtain. He reached for his bath towel and wrapped it around his waist. As mad as he made me, Tyree looked so sexy with the water trickling down his dark chocolate skin. His muscles rippled as the water made its way down his body.

  “I changed my mind. My sisters would love to see her.”

  “Can I get a hug before you go?” he asked with outstretched arms and a smirk on his face.

  “No.”

  “Come here, baby. You know I love you.”

  “But I’m not wifey material,” I shot back.

  “In my eyes you are my wifey.”

  “But not officially. It’s only in your meek little imagination. Hug that imaginary wifey, because your girlfriend is leaving.”

  With that I left him standing with his arms still outstretched to embrace the fact that one day I might not be there for him to hug at all.

  Chapter 12

  Dawn

  I could not wait until I got over to my sister Vivian’s house for our weekly dinner. This time it was Vivian who would host the dinner, so I knew we were going to have something scrumptious to eat. Out of all four of my sisters, Vivian was the best cook. I didn’t know if it was because she was the oldest or what, but homegirl could throw down.

  The last time she made spice-rubbed barbecue ribs with homemade coleslaw, broccoli salad, cornbread, and sweet potato casserole. You’re talking about good. Vivian slow-grilled those ribs so long the meat was falling off the bone.

  We made pigs of ourselves as we chowed down with BBQ sauce all over our hands and faces, even though she provided kitchen towels for each of us to wipe our hands with. She had enough food to feed an army, so it wasn’t a problem for any of us to leave there with Styrofoam plates filled with food to eat the next day.

  When I got to Vivian’s, I didn’t bother knocking as I walked into her house.

  “Knock knock. It’s me, Viv,” I yelled.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she replied.

  When I walked in, Vivian
was standing at the stove, stirring something in a huge pot. “Hey, sis,” she said.

  “Hey. How it’s going?”

  “I can’t complain, or rather, there’s no need to.”

  “True. You look good,” I complimented her, looking at Vivian wearing a pair of black jeggings with a red off-the-shoulder top and leopard-print wedges.

  “Thank you.”

  “Where did you get those shoes, girl? They are so damn hot,” I said, admiring the wedges.

  “I ordered them off the Steve Madden Web site. Feel them,” Viv said, walking over to me.

  I bent over and rubbed the shoe. “Is that fur?”

  “It feels like it. I love these shoes, and they are so comfortable.”

  “They don’t look comfortable,” I said, looking at the five-inch shoe.

  “The platform helps. All I buy is shoes with platforms these days. It takes inches away from the actual heel height, but still makes it look like you are rocking high heels. You can try them on if you like,” she said, stepping out of the shoes.

  I giggled as her height shrank dramatically. I was curious and stepped into the shoes. “Wow. I like these. They are comfortable,” I said, pleasantly surprised as I looked down at the fabulous shoe.

  “Told you,” she said.

  “I’m going to have to get me a pair. How much were they?”

  “Please don’t ask,” she said as I stepped back out of the shoes and watched as she walked over and put them back on.

  “Seriously, how much?” I asked again.

  “With shipping I think I paid close to one hundred and forty dollars.”

  “Vivian!” I yelled.

  “I know, but they were cute and I love shoes, so here I stand,” she rationalized. “But that’s nothing compared to the price of other shoes I’ve purchased,” she said.

  Vivian never lied. She had a nice collection of shoes. My sister had shoes she hadn’t worn yet. I would have expected this type of glam from Phoenix, but Vivian even beat her when it came to how many shoes she possessed. I know many may think $140 for shoes is not bad, but when you came from the humble, or should I say poor, beginning like we did, you would understand why I frowned at the mention of the price. We used to think paying fifty dollars for shoes was a lot.

  But I couldn’t be mad at Vivian. She’d worked hard to get to where she was and rightfully deserved to buy whatever she wanted. Next, I would expect her to be stepping around in Giuseppes and Christian Louboutin. That’s if she didn’t have any already. Knowing my sister, she did. “I wish I could buy expensive shoes like you.”

  “You can,” she quipped.

  “Girl, I’m comfortable in my sneakers. I’m not trying to break my neck in shoes like that.”

  “Beauty is painful sometimes. I twisted my ankle last year, and it killed me to let my heels go for two months. Don’t get me wrong; I do enjoy my sneakers, but I like to dress up sometimes too, unlike yourself,” Viv said.

  “I dress up,” I defended myself.

  “When?”

  “When I go to church,” I retorted.

  “And when was the last time you did that?” Vivian asked, reaching into her cabinet and pulling out a bottle of spice. She took the cap off and shook it into the pot.

  “Okay, enough with the interrogation. What do you have in the pot?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  Vivian knew what I was doing, eyeing me skeptically, but she went along by answering, “I made some gumbo. This is my first time making this, so I hope it’s going to be good.” She picked up a spoon and dipped it into the liquid, brought it to her lips, blowing it slightly, and sampled it. “It tastes good, but I feel like it’s missing something. Come over here and taste it,” she said, putting the spoon she used to taste her food in the sink.

  Vivian retrieved a fresh spoon out of the drawer and dipped it into the pot, lifting the mixture to my lips. I blew it, holding my hand under the spoon so none of it got on my clothes, and then I consumed it. “Mmmmm. Girl, that’s good. I should have known you couldn’t mess up anything.”

  “But doesn’t it need something?” Vivian asked.

  “Maybe a little bit more salt. Other than that, I think it’s great,” I said, taking the spoon out of her hand and licking it before putting it into the sink.

  Vivian pinched some salt into the pot and stirred it some more. “This is going to be as good as it gets,” she said, turning off the eye under the pot and moving it to one that was cold.

  “I see I’m the first one again,” I said.

  “Yes. You know you are always the first one, unless Sheldon is here.”

  “Is Sheldon coming tonight?” I asked, hoping he was, just so I could stare at his fine behind.

  “No, not this time. He had plans,” Vivian said.

  Sheldon was Vivian’s best friend, and damn, he was sexy as hell. Tall and dark like the deepest of chocolates, and built like a stallion. You could see his six pack through the fitted shirts he wore; his body was so chiseled. To top it off, he had dreads, which he kept looking and smelling nice all the time.

  I thought I loved a man with a bald head, but damn, after seeing Sheldon with his locks, he made me take a second look at brothers with them. Every time I hugged Sheldon I dove my face into his tresses. He looked even sexier when he pulled them back off his gorgeous face. The man had a smile to die for, with the whitest teeth I’d ever seen on a man and a dimple in his left cheek. I swear Sheldon was one man that could make me cheat on Corey.

  I always wondered how Viv and Sheldon became such good friends, and most of all why my sister hadn’t taken that fine specimen of a man as her own. For a minute I thought he was gay, but Sheldon let it be known real quick he was a ladies’ man. I then had to wonder what the hell was wrong with my sister for not jumping that man’s bones. I then questioned whether she was gay. One day I asked her, and she damn near had a heart attack.

  “Hell no,” she screamed. “I’m strictly dickly, sis.”

  “I had to ask, as fine as Sheldon is,” I told her.

  “We’re just friends,” Vivian would always say, but I still couldn’t believe it. They acted like an old married couple but weren’t getting the benefits of being one.

  As I stopped daydreaming about Sheldon, Vivian said, “I swear we need to make our dinner time an hour earlier just so our sisters can get here on time.”

  “I know, right? And you know who’s going to be last.”

  “Phoenix,” we both said simultaneously.

  “Speaking of Phoenix, did you hear about the fight I had with Paige at her house?” I revealed.

  “Do you mean fighting as in arguing, or fighting as in coming to blows?” Viv asked for clarification as she leaned against the granite countertop to listen.

  “Both, and you know I don’t fight unless I have to.”

  “What happened?” Viv asked.

  “I got tired of all the little jabs Paige kept saying the other night. I was standing in Phoenix’s kitchen when Paige comes walking in talking about she was getting her some but didn’t want to reveal who she was getting some from. That did it for me, Viv. I pushed her. From there we started fighting.”

  Vivian looked at me like I was crazy.

  “What?”

  “You know you were wrong, right?” she asked.

  “How was I wrong?” I asked, surprised.

  “Dawn, you started it by pushing that woman. What did you think was going to happen?” Vivian asked.

  “I don’t like her, and I wanted to hurt her.”

  “The one you should be hurting is Corey.”

  “I had it out with him, too, about Paige,” I said unconvincingly.

  “Yeah, but you took him back. You handled Paige like you should have handled Corey. Paige doesn’t have love for you, but your man supposedly does.”

  “He does love me,” I said.

  “He’s had a funny way of showing it since he’s been with you. You’re not with Paige, yet you treat her worse t
han the man who betrayed you. Yeah, that makes perfectly good sense to me,” Vivian argued.

  “So you want me to be her friend?” I asked with an attitude, getting heated that Viv didn’t seem to be on my side.

  “I’m not saying that. What I am saying is Corey is the one you should have been smacking. Paige didn’t do anything that Corey didn’t allow, is all I’m saying.”

  There was a knock at the door and I was glad. I was getting tired of discussing me tonight, even though this conversation was my own damn fault for bringing up; but I figured if I didn’t bring it up, Phoenix would. I had to get my side out before Phoenix contorted it into something that didn’t happen at all.

  “Can you get that for me?” Viv asked, pulling out the bowls from the cabinet to set the table.

  I went and answered the door. When I opened it, I saw my sisters Serena and Shauna standing there. “It’s about time,” I said jokingly.

  “We ain’t late,” Serena said, holding the baby carrier with our newest member.

  “Maybe you are on time by your clock, but you are late here. Y’all were supposed to have been here at five, and it’s five thirty-seven. I almost started eating without y’all,” I said, taking the carrier away from Serena and toting my niece into the kitchen.

  “You could have eaten,” Serena said, dropping her purse on the sofa as she followed me. “I bet you we beat Phoenix here.”

  All of us burst into laughter.

  “What do we always say about Phoenix? She is going to be late for her own funeral,” I said, putting the carrier on the countertop.

  “And that’s because she probably hired her own personal glam squad to make her over after death,” Shauna said, causing us to laugh again.

  “Let me hold my niece,” I said, unbuckling the straps across her little chest.