Mistress

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Mistress Page 2

by Meisha Camm


  Chapter 3

  My heart was racing as I saw Pop’s Ford 150 green truck outside of the restaurant. It stood the test of time, rain, sleet, and snow. Before the Chicken Shack was opened, Ma and Pop sold chicken dinners for five dollars outside of the truck. I was always strapped down in my car seat, playing with toys and eating a Popsicle to keep me quiet.

  After one year, my parents saved enough money to open their own restaurant where folks could sit down and eat their food. The grand opening was on July 17, 1979, a day that I will never forget. Three months before the big day, Ma and Pop had family, friends, and anybody that could help putting up flyers in Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, Suffolk, Franklin, Norfolk, Portsmouth, Hampton, Newport News, and Williamsburg.

  The night before, Pop was so nervous. I could hear Ma and him praying to God, asking for His favor over the restaurant. It was my father’s dream, and my parents worked relentlessly to see this dream come true.

  Dressed in a royal-blue chiffon dress with matching bow ribbons for my hair and patent leather shoes, I witnessed people from all over the Tidewater area come and get a taste of Pop’s soul food. The items on the menu featured fried chicken, white and dark meat—Pop could even fry a whole chicken—chicken sandwiches, fried fish, featuring whiting, trout, catfish, and croaker, hickory smoked BBQ ribs. (They have always been my favorite.) There was also beef and pork. The sides included mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, corn pudding, rice pudding, candied yams, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, cabbage, string beans, and black-eyed peas. For desserts, apple, blackberry, peach cobbler, vanilla and chocolate ice cream. After a lot of coaxing, Pop finally put an ice cream machine in the restaurant. That meant I could have ice cream anytime I wanted.

  As Ma jumped out of the car, she took off her quarterinch sandal heels and wobbled into the restaurant. My heart was beating faster. She was pissed and had never confronted Pop here, of all places. “Robby, where are you?” Ma shouted out.

  “Hey, Vivian, how are you feeling?” Mr. Marshall, one of Pop’s best cooks, walked to the front door.

  “Hello, John. Have you seen my husband?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Besides, it’s going on one o’clock. I know the kids are waiting for you to take them to the park. You go on home to your family.”

  “All right, well, I’ll see you two ladies later.” He smiled and walked to the door.

  We searched everywhere for Pop, looking in the customer and employee bathrooms, the kitchen, and the closets. Finally, Ma spotted the back door slightly cracked open. There, we found Pop sweating profusely, unloading the Valley Food Service truck with the restaurant’s weekly supplies.

  “Alex, hold my purse and go inside to get a slice of peach cobbler,” Ma told me.

  “I don’t want any cobbler, Ma,” I whined.

  Pop, his back turned to us, still hadn’t turned around because the truck was so loud.

  “I didn’t ask you what you wanted. Now, I’m not repeating myself, so do what I asked you to do,” she warned, cutting her eyes at me.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, feeling defeated and scared for my life and Pop’s. I was tired of my parents fighting. I quickly walked to the door and slightly kept it open so I could see.

  “Robby?” Ma shouted out.

  “Viv, are you all right? Where’s Alex at?”

  “She’s fine, Robby.”

  “Why do you keep calling me Robby? No one calls me that except my Aunt Pam, who I can’t stand to be in the same room with.”

  “Yvonne calls you Robby, Robert,” Ma screamed as she pounced on him and repeatedly kept slapping him with her shoes.

  “What? Are you paying bills for your tramps now? Yvonne has it fixed in her head you are going to take care of her. She can’t even pay for her hair to get done. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this restaurant with you and you repay me like this? Robby, I will suck your money dry before you can ever move on with one of your tramps. You don’t have any respect for me and this family. It’s bad enough you cheat and you do it in the open,” Ma hollered out.

  I was crying yet again all because of Pop. I turned to wipe my eyes on my shirt since I didn’t have a tissue. After I turned back around, Ma stopped hitting Pop and grabbed her stomach, almost falling to her knees.

  “Viv, are you all right?” Pop asked.

  “Don’t you touch one of your damn fingers on me. I will be fine.” Ma seemed to immediately regain her strength and headed toward the door.

  I ran over to the ice cream machine to play off my lurking and snooping. Before I knew it, Ma walked over to me and grabbed my hand, and we walked out the main entrance and got into the car.

  For at least ten minutes, Ma cried in the driver’s seat while Pop was begging her to open the car door. I could see the worry in his eyes. It was hard to tell who he was worried about more, Ma, the baby, or me. Then, we pulled off.

  “Alex, are you hungry?” Ma asked, changing the subject.

  I didn’t dare try to question what just happened. “A little. What are you in the mood for?” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “I have a craving for gyros. It’s only one thirty. We have plenty of time to run and grab something to eat.”

  On the way to the Greek Hut, we passed by the Chicken Shack, one of the many restaurants owned by my father. Our family ate chicken at least three times a week; however, we never grew tired of it.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sometimes, Pop would bring me to work with him during the summer months. It used to be so much fun helping him work the cash register. I wanted to be a cashier when I grew up. Pop had higher hopes for me and somehow knew I was going to change my mind in time.

  Ma ate the last bit of her gyro. I got the small one and still couldn’t seem to finish it.

  “May I have a soda?”

  “I don’t see that cup of water empty. You know the rules. Water is drank first, then carbonated water with sugar.”

  “Ma, it’s called soda.”

  “Whatever it’s called, I’m not going to let it rot out your pearly white teeth.”

  Ma sipped on a bottle of water. “I despise water. It has no flavor or taste to it. Plus, I am always running to the toilet to make pee-pee trips.”

  “The doctor will be our last stop. After this, I’m going to make a date with the bed.” Ma yawned.

  “Ma, yawning is contagious.”

  “Girl, it’s just a myth.”

  “No way. I’m living proof.” I yawned.

  Chapter 4

  I’m getting hungry again already. This little guy loves to eat.” Ma rubbed her stomach.

  When we arrived at the doctor’s office, the elevator was out of order. Just our luck, I thought. Ma and I had to walk up three flights of stairs. “Four more steps and we are there,” I said, pulling her arm.

  “At least, I’m getting my exercise for the month,” she panted almost breathless.

  I thought she was supposed to exercise each day. I felt sympathy for her. It’s hard carrying a basketball in the middle of your stomach. Ma and Pop didn’t care whether it was a boy or a girl, just as long as the new member of the Gibbs family was healthy with ten fingers and ten toes, but I wanted a baby brother. I couldn’t wait for he or she to get here. Big sister won’t be my name for nothing. I was looking forward to being a babysitter and taking strolls in the park, with cotton candy melting in our mouths.

  As we entered the office, the waiting room had no one waiting, yet it was filled with the scent of white gardenias hitting my nose. Pop was standing by the water fountain looking down. He looked as if he had been waiting there all morning.

  “Pop!” I ran to him.

  He picked me up and swung me around.

  “Alex, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, holding me tight.

  I noticed a red bag and a purple bag sitting on the floor right next to him. I was hoping one
of them was for me.

  “What’s in the bags?”

  “Some goodies. This red one is for you. This one is for your mother.”

  “Here is yours.” I tried to hand it to Ma and almost dropped the bag. It was so heavy. I was eager to tear that sucker open. Inside my bag was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. He brought me a Strawberry Shortcake doll with all of her friends. I faithfully watched the cartoon every Saturday morning.

  “Keep digging in your bag.” Pop winked.

  “There’s more to discover.”

  Blow Pops, candy necklaces, Now and Laters, and Fun Dip are all my favorite candies. I quickly tore off the wrapper of a black cherry blow pop. To top it off, he brought me the deluxe Easy-Bake Oven. Now, I can bake two things instead of one. “Thank you, Pop,” I said while giving him a hug.

  “I knew you would like your things.”

  “Alex, go play with your new stuff over by the couch. I need to speak with your father.” Ma never took her eyes off of Pop.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I nodded. Ma didn’t want me listening to grown-up conversation, but I did.

  “Don’t even think by you trying to buy our love back will make this marriage and our family better.”

  “Vivian, I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he sobbed, putting his hand over her stomach.

  “Robert, sorry isn’t good enough. Actions speak louder than words. Were you sorry when you had your penis in another woman’s vagina?” she questioned, her hands crossed.

  No words were coming out of his mouth.

  “I’m your wife, not Tracy, Shelly, Cynthia, Kathy, or your latest trick Yvonne. You’re supposed to have an orgasm in my vagina only.”

  “If you let me, I will.”

  “Believe me when I say you will not even smell this my devoted husband,” she pointed downward. I hate you! Take your shit. I don’t want it.”

  “Whatever it takes, I will do anything to get your heart back.”

  “You had my heart, but you don’t know how to treat it.”

  “Take a look in the bag.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll just open it myself then. Woman, you can be so damn stubborn,” Pop mumbled, opening the bag.

  “Huh, you’re lucky I didn’t knock your ass out—” Ma ranted. Only, something cut her off. It was two crystal balls. One was a sonogram picture of the baby. The other one was a picture of us when I was christened at Serenity Baptist Church.

  “Those are my babies. How did you do this?” she asked, crying tears of joy.

  “Last week, your doctor gave it to me. I wanted to come in, but I knew you would have thrown me out,” he said, gently holding her hand.

  Ma snatched her hand away. “You got that right.”

  “Pop let me hold one,” I insisted, running back over to them.

  “That’s not all. It plays lullabies.”

  “The doctor will see you now, Mrs. Gibbs,” the receptionist said.

  “Thank you.” Ma smiled and stepped through the door.

  I followed right behind her, tugging on Pop’s hand to come along as well.

  “May I come in with you?” he asked, a puppy dog look on his face. “I don’t want to do anything to upset you and the baby.”

  “You’ve already done enough. This is your baby too.” Ma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.

  Chapter 5

  It was a cold room. Pictures of babies in the different stages of growth were all neatly plastered on the wall. I found most interesting the collage of babies Dr. Morales had delivered in all of his years. I had goose bumps all over me.

  Ma got undressed from the waist down. During our last visit, the doctor could not tell the sex of the baby. Now, we were back again, wanting to know the prognosis. There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in, please,” Ma stated.

  “Good afternoon, Vivian. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Morales was a rather large man, reminding me of Santa Claus. Only, his beard was brown and didn’t smell of sweet candy canes.

  “I’m ready to get this cookie out of the oven,” she said, lying back on the bed.

  “The little one isn’t quite ready yet.”

  “Hey, doc.”

  “Hello, Mr. Gibbs. My wife, the kids, and I had dinner at the Chicken Shack two nights ago. Those collard greens taste as if they have been cooked all day long.”

  “Thank you. I aim to please my customers.”

  “Alexis, you’re even more beautiful each time I see you,” he said, patting me on the head.

  “Thank you.” I blushed.

  He pointed. “What do you have in your bag?”

  “Lots and lots of candy. Plus, my pop brought me Strawberry Shortcake and a deluxe Easy-Bake oven. We’ll be having brownies tonight for dessert.” I smirked and held up my new items.

  “Please save some for me. My wife can cook a mean roast, but brownies are not in her department.” He laughed.

  “Don’t worry, I will.” I studied the recipe book.

  “Please bear with me. This gel will feel cold against your stomach.”

  “Don’t worry, I know the drill.” Ma took a deep breath.

  “Let’s see if I can determine if this little one is a firefighter or an upcoming ballerina.”

  He turned on a device that appeared to look like a mini television. I could see the head, eyes, arms, and legs of the baby. The head was large.

  “It’s a boy.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” Ma looked at the sonogram.

  “Yes, he’s got three legs instead of two.”

  Everyone started laughing. I didn’t get it.

  “It’s grown-folks’ talk.” Ma rubbed my face.

  I kept staring at the baby. He was sucking his finger. I’m going to have a baby brother.

  Ma and Pop were holding hands. She even let him kiss her on the cheek.

  The nurse came in and placed a belt around Ma’s stomach. I began to hear the baby’s heartbeat. It was strong and steadfast.

  Dr. Morales started feeling on her stomach. The baby was moving all around. “I woke the little fella up from his afternoon nap.”

  Chapter 6

  Pop took us to Ma’s favorite restaurant, Atlantic Shores, where it could take at least two weeks to get a reservation. Early on, I became aware Pop had power to do almost anything, except buy me a cotton candy machine. I’m still working on that. Sure, my father has his faults. Every man and woman does. But Robert Gibbs is my father, and I’m proud to be his daughter. He always took care of us. Maybe, that’s why Ma puts up with so much of his crap.

  Women, especially those at our church, were always telling Ma how much Pop was a good man, but, it was the same women making advances for him to be their catch of the day.

  Little do grown-ups know, I have eyes and ears and really do know what’s going on. I may be ten years old, but I’m not stupid.

  Two years ago on a bright Sunday afternoon, a lady named Connie Maddox—Hmm . . . lady, she didn’t deserve the title. She was a woman with too many curves who was heavily involved in the church, whether it be the church choir, single’s ministry, building fund committee, and so on and so on. To be honest, I was beginning to look up to her as a role model.

  Pop and I were walking to the car. I was happy because we were going to Grandma’s house for dinner. I couldn’t stop thinking about the London broil with mouthwatering homemade rolls with sweet butter.

  Ms. Maddox stopped us dead in our tracks.

  “Brother Robert, may I please have a word with you?”

  “Sure.”

  I didn’t like the way she was looking at Pop. I held a tight grip on his hands, so he would get the cue not to even think about asking me to go wait in the car.

  She whispered something in his ear. I couldn’t make out what was said.

  Pop began to nod his head.

  I got closer to hear what she was saying. “You see, I need you to pray for me.”

  “Are you sic
k? Is it your family?”

  Why was she asking Pop to pray for her? There was a prayer box when you first walk in the church and an intercessory prayer committee. Ms. Maddox was surrounded by other “prayer warriors.”

  “Well, it’s my neck. The doctors found a lump in my neck, and it could be cancer. I go for my biopsy tomorrow. Please keep me in your prayers,” she pleaded with fake tears.

  “I certainly will.” Pop gave Ms. Maddox a hug.

  When he slowly let go of her, his hand was glued to her left breast, while her hand was sticking a piece of the church bulletin in his right pants pocket with her phone number jotted down on it.

  I kicked her with all my might in the ankle, with my new, shiny black patent leather shoes.

  “Are you crazy? Don’t do this in front of my baby girl.”

  “Leave my Pop, alone!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “I didn’t do anything to your daddy,” she protested, hopping on one leg.

  I kicked her in the other leg.

  Pop picked me up, so I wouldn’t do any more physical damage to Ms. Maddox. He neglected to hold my hands together.

  I couldn’t help but smack this ho in her face. Wait till Ma gets her hands on you.

  “Alexis!” Pop shouted.

  “Let me go.” I tried to wiggle my way out of his hands. Ma must have heard the commotion. She ran over to us with chocolate chip cookies in her hands along with five other church members. (The church was having a bake sale.) She didn’t even bother to ask what was going on.

  Pop let me go to hold on to Ma. It was a little too late for that.

  She had already punched Ms. Maddox in the face and knocked her to the ground. Brother Carl and Brother Dennis had to block Ma from giving out any more forceful blows.

  A police car happened to be driving by. I was happy and relieved because I felt as though she should go to jail for trying to break up my parents.

  “Alex, don’t say anything,” Pop insisted with a stern look on his face.

  The officer pulled down his window. “Is there a problem here?”

  “No problem at all, officer.” Ms. Maddox tried her best to stand up with the assistance of Sister Wanda. “I haven’t eaten all day, so I just fainted.”

 

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