by Zuri Day
I’m fed up. Boiling over. I’ve had enough of society.
Taking shots. Photoshopped. Their perfect plan of what I should be.
Wait a minute. Slow your roll. Who made you, God? Did you make me? No!
So let me win in my own skin. The world is the same different. Represent!
You be you. I’ll be me. I’m the best me there ever could be.
Don’t fit your mold. Don’t give a damn. You be who you are and I’ll be who I am.
Ostracized. Isolated. Because my ways you don’t understand. Got—
Skinny. Fat. Piercings. Tats. And every other other that’s known to man.
Don’t be blue that I’m not like you. Looks like that was the master plan.
So let me win in my own skin. Everybody’s more alike than different. Represent!
You be you. I’ll be me. I’m the best me there could ever be.
Don’t fit your mold. Don’t give a damn. You be who you are and I’ll be who I am.
You be you. I’ll be me. I’m the perfect plan of what I should be.
Don’t fit your mold. Don’t give a damn.
You be who you are and I’ll be who I am!
37
After the show Jan and Doug were invited to join Cynthia and Byron in the Presidential Suite, where the H.E.L.P. staff were entertaining board members, VIP supporters, and executives from sister organizations. As she entered, the room broke into applause. Jan was stunned.
“See,” Cynthia said as she hugged her. “I told you they loved it! Come on, I have some people for you to meet.”
Within minutes Jan’s mind was whirling with the flurry of names she’d heard. She laughed and smiled, all the while dreaming of nothing but sitting down and taking off the cute crystal shoes that were now killing her feet!
Just when she was about to beg Cynthia for mercy, a man approached. He was handsome, older, his salt and pepper hair giving him a distinguished air even as his boyishly blue eyes still held their devilish twinkle. Two words in and Jan knew he was English.
“Good evening,” he reached for her hand and kissed it. “I enjoyed you immensely. Your show was flawless.”
“Thank you so much.”
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you,” Cynthia interjected, hand outstretched. “I’m Cynthia Carter, director of H.E.L.P.”
“Ah, you’re the Cynthia my wife raves about.”
“Who’s your wife?”
“Betsy Thomas. My name is Chandler.”
“Betsy! Love her! Your generous donations have helped hundreds of teens choose differently and better. Thank you so much, Chandler. Programs like these couldn’t exist without people like you.”
He turned back to Jan. “And you, Ms. Baker, are a star.”
Jan bowed her head, truly humbled. “I don’t usually, but tonight I’m beginning to think of myself that way.”
“As well you should. Such a talent! And that song you wrote? Incredible, it was hands down the best song of the night.”
“Thank you.”
“You did write it, correct?”
“Yes, myself along with”—Doug gently jabbed her side—“my boyfriend here, Doug Carter.”
Doug shook Chandler’s hand.
“Who is my brother-in-law,” Cynthia added.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Doug said.
“Likewise.”
“And my younger brother also contributed.”
“Is it copyrighted?”
“Not yet.”
“You should get that done immediately, like tomorrow. The process is easy. You can do it online.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious. Will you do that?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday but since it can be done online, sure. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. Because I really love the song, the message most of all. And if you’ll forgive my presumptuousness and forthrightness, I will add that I also believe there is a way the song can have wider appeal, worldwide even.”
Jan looked from Chandler to Doug and Cynthia and back again. “How’s that?”
“If it is given more of a rock edge, and professionally recorded.”
“Rock?” Doug asked.
“Recorded?” Jan followed.
“Yes, my brother a well-known record producer; he handles some of the hottest rock bands in England. I could get help from him for one of them to back you and put this song out for the world to hear.”
Jan was floored. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m totally serious.” Chandler reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cell. “Please call me next week. I’ll tell you more of what I have in mind. Will you do that?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Thomas. Wow. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Bye!”
The three of them watched Chandler Thomas walk away. “I told you if you stuck with me you’d be famous,” Doug said. “I think my manager fee just went up.”
“Shut up,” Jan said with a laugh, looking at the card Chandler had given her. “I wonder if his brother is as big as he says.”
“Doesn’t matter if you’re going to get a professionally recorded song out of the deal. That can be your calling card for more work.”
“That’s true.”
Cynthia was still looking at Chandler, who’d stopped to chat with a group several yards away. “I don’t know about his brother, but I know about Betsy Thomas. She’s from the East Coast and very connected. Old money. Lots of it.” She eyed Jan pointedly. “They get things done, so if I were you, I’d be trying to channel a rock star and make some moves like Jagger.”
38
“Oh, Crystal! I wish you’d been there. Everything about the night was amazing: the venue, the people, the sound system, the food. And they loved my song!”
“The song that I still haven’t heard even though I’m the cousin who’s more like a sister.”
“We just finished it!”
“I’m messing with you, girl. And so proud of you.”
“Thank you, cuzzo.”
“And here you were all down and out over a fallen star.”
“Crazy, isn’t it? Two months ago Nick Starr and his cable show was like the Holy Grail, the end all, be all. I actually felt like if I didn’t get on that show, it was over. And I didn’t! And for a minute, I was done.”
“But then the man you initially dissed took over, and now look. You’re a songwriter about to record! Who knows where this could lead?”
“First of all, I never dissed Doug.”
“Yes, you did. You said he wasn’t datable because he only worked at the post office. Now, act like you didn’t say it.”
“I’m not sure it came out quite that way.”
“Ha! Well, I’m sure, heifah. It came out exactly like that. Matter-of-fact, as much as you tried to hide it, you had a thing for Nick Starr! Are you going to try and deny that, too? And don’t forget who you’re talking to. The girl who knew you when you used a permanent magic marker on your face ’cause you were trying to look like Left Eye in TLC.”
“Ha! And your brother scared me half to death, telling me the ink was poison and I’d go blind.” They howled at this comment. “I’m not going to deny anything you said. And I’m also big enough to admit that my attitude about Doug was totally wrong, and unfair, too. He really is a good man.”
“So you’ll finally admit that y’all are dating? And the four of us can go out, as couples, officially?”
“Girl, that news has been out.”
“To who, because it sure wasn’t me.”
“The job. Everybody knows my business.”
“Well isn’t this something. I’m the last one to hear the song and get the news.” She looked at Jan, her smile big. “So we can all go out then.”
A long pause and then, “I guess so.”
Crystal whooped and broke into an off-key rendition of a TLC classic, causing Jan
to crack up again.
That Friday, Crystal, Brent, Jan, and Doug enjoyed dinner at Brent’s favorite Mexican restaurant. Minutes after they’d finished their entrées, the waitstaff headed to their table, singing “Happy Birthday.” One carried a candle-bearing slice of gooey caramel flan. He was encouraged to make a wish and blow out the candle.
“How old are you, Brent,” Jan asked. “Thirty-nine or forty?”
“Forty,” Brent deadpanned. “I’m almost as old as you.”
Jan didn’t miss a beat. “You’re confusing me with your wife.”
“Hey!” Crystal reached over with her fork for a bite of Brent’s cake. “Leave me out of it.”
“Do they always act like this?” Doug asked Crystal.
“As long as I’ve known him. Like two peas in a pod.”
“It’s actually a good thing. If I tease you, I like you.” She reached over for a bite of Brent’s cake. He raised his fork. “I just want a bite!”
“Get your own.”
“Babe, you need to tease me more.” Doug got the attention of the waiter. “Yes, I’d like to order that dessert for these two women who when asked told you they didn’t want any. So the man can enjoy his cake in peace.”
Brent lifted a fist. “Thank you, my brother.”
“No worries.” Doug bumped his fist. “I’ve got your back.”
“You’re supposed to have my back!” Jan huffed.
“No, I’m supposed to have your backside.”
Crystal groaned. “Oh, brother.”
Jan leaned into Doug, who’d placed his arm around her shoulders. “So you guys have not one but two babysitters tonight. Must have a wild night planned.”
“Oh, there’s going to be some chandelier swinging for sure,” Brent said as a yawn chased the sentence.
“With four kids seven and under and a perpetual lack of sleep, we’ll be lucky to not fall asleep before the eleven o’clock news.”
Doug squeezed Jan’s shoulder before removing his arm. “In that case I suggest we get those desserts to go, let you two enjoy some alone time.”
“What are you two going to do?” Crystal teased.
Doug shrugged, while stroking Jan’s thigh under the table. “We’ll get into something.”
The couples left in their separate cars.
“What do you want to do?” Doug asked.
“Nothing really. We rehearsed every night this week. The only reason we didn’t tonight is because Thump had another gig.” She gave Doug a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Doug. But I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just go home.”
“Why not come to my house? You can sleep there.”
“If I go there, you know we won’t sleep. Plus, I want to sleep in my bed tonight. With work and rehearsal, I’ve got a ton of wash and other household chores that need handling.” She looked out the window. “This is the time when being a thirty-year-old still living with your mother is so not cool.”
“Why don’t you move out?”
“I’m helping out financially. Lionel’s medical bills wiped Mom out. She can’t handle everything on her own.”
The conversation shifted to other things. They reached Jan’s house. Doug parked and turned off the engine.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m coming in and hanging out with you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Doug.”
“I know I don’t. I want to. What, you have a secret lover or something? Trying to rush me off before he gets here?”
“Yes, that’s it.” She opened the door and exited without a good-bye.
“Jan!” Doug grabbed his keys and jumped out of the car. He hurried up the walk to catch a fast-moving woman. “I was just teasing, woman!”
“I don’t like teasing like that.”
“Okay, geez.” They entered a quiet house. “Where’s Lionel?”
“Probably out with his friend Bernard.”
“What about your mom?”
“In her room watching TV most likely.” Jan walked into the living room and turned on the flat screen. “Why are you just standing there?”
“I’m a guest who won’t assume that I can just sit down like it’s my house.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve had a guest I forgot how to act. Please, have a seat.” She motioned to a comfy, oversized couch across from the television. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“You have soda?”
“Yes, but not ginger ale.”
“Anything is cool.”
She got the drinks and cozied up next to him on the couch where Doug was channel-surfing.
“Find anything?”
“Not really.”
“I’m not surprised. We’ve got two hundred channels. There should always be something interesting to watch.”
“Oh, here we go.” Doug set down the remote and settled his head on Jan’s shoulder. “Friday After Next.”
“The sequels weren’t as good as the first one.”
“Yeah, but it’s still funny. Mike Epps is a fool.”
They settled in to watch a show both had seen numerous times. Just watching TV and cuddling. About thirty minutes in Jan had a frightening thought. I could get used to this. An even more frightening thought followed that one. She wanted to get used to it.
39
Neither Doug nor Jan was ready for the holidays to end. But the second of January saw both of them back at work. With both Pat and Melissa still off, however, it was a light crew.
Joey was there, though, and, as always, was ready for news.
“How was your New Year?” he asked Doug.
“It was good. Yours?”
“Watched the ball drop with my girl, my kids, and dog and thought . . . I’m officially old.” Doug chuckled. “What did you do? Hang out with Jan?”
“Went to a dinner party over Byron and Cynthia’s new house in Venice.”
“Venice?” Joey was shocked. “Day-um! Bus driver salaries have gone up!”
“His wife found the house. It’s a pretty cool spot, with the patio on the roof. She’s turning Byron bourgie, though, man. Waiters serving us, chef in the kitchen, using seven, eight different plates for one meal. I asked her, why can’t you put all my food on one big plate?
“Instead of her answering, Byron had the nerve to speak up. ‘They’re courses,’ he informed me.” Doug mockingly imitated his brother, accent clipped, back ramrod straight. “I’m, like, fool the last course you took was high-school gym. Shut the hell up!”
Joey and everyone else in the back burst out laughing.
“What about the food?” an eavesdropper asked. “Was it good?”
“It was delicious, I can’t even lie. Steak, salmon, duck . . . and some other stuff I couldn’t recognize or pronounce. I tease her a lot, but she’s good people, and crazy about my brother. We had a ball.”
“And by ‘we’ you mean you and Jan? You skillfully dodged that question the first time around.”
“Not that it’s your business, but I wasn’t trying to dodge anything. Yes, Jan and I brought in the New Year together. Is that clear enough for you?”
“I heard it!” said a voice from across the hall.
“No doubt,” Joey replied with a shake of his head. “Melissa probably heard it and she’s off today.”
A second later, Jan appeared. “Everybody heard it.” She spun around and walked back to the counter.
Doug made a face and followed behind her. “You okay?”
“Yes, you’ve totally ruined me now. Not only dating a man I work with, but now involved in the soap opera as well.”
Pat, who’d heard the comment, too, said, “Looks like you’ve never been happier.”
“Pat, I hated the thought of coming to work here. But it’s turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“He’s that good, huh?”
“Pat!”
“Baby, I’m just—how do you young folk say it—keeping it real!”
“Man got you where you can’t think straight.”
“No, this is your doing.”
Pat laughed.
“Doug makes me happy, but there are some other things happening that have me feeling really good about life right about now.”
“Something to do with your singing?” Jan nodded. “Ooh, girl, tell me.”
“I want to, but I can’t. Not yet. Once it’s finished, then I’ll share with you. Just be praying for me, okay, that everything will go perfectly.”
“I’m happy for you, Jan, and I will surely do that. As for you hooking up with the man who put that big smile on your face, I’m happy about that, too. I told you when you started a couple months ago that he was a good man. When I met you I thought you were a pretty smart girl. Looks like I was right.”
With Christmas over, the afternoon dragged. After the counter closed, processing and sorting mail, the time went a bit faster.
Once they were off and walking to their cars in the lot, Doug asked, “Are you coming over?”
“No, I ran around so much during the holidays that I think I’ll head home.”
“All right, then.”
“What about you?”
“I might head over to where Marvin works, grab a bite to eat.”
“Where does he work?”
“That new restaurant off of La Brea and Slauson. I’ll take you there the next time we go out. The food is pretty good.”
They said their good-byes and soon Jan was pulling into her driveway. With both Lionel and her mom’s bedroom at the back of the house it was normally dark when she drove up. Tonight there was a light in the living room.
She got out and went inside. Rochelle was sitting in the living room, going through the mail. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, Jan.”
“You didn’t have to work tonight?”
“No, they didn’t have any more data entry for us tonight so we got off early. I thank the Lord for that.”
Jan went and sat beside her mother. “I wish you didn’t have to work so hard.”
“Me, too, but these bills won’t pay themselves. I appreciate what you’re doing, Jan. I know you’d rather be in your own place, especially now with that good man you’re dating and all. I wish I could see a way out of this debt, but short of a miracle or a lottery win . . .”