by Mychea
The funeral was a rather small one, as my Mama only went to work, and would come straight home to provide for me. As her condition worsened, she never really went out at all. I knew all of her co-workers and friends, so of course I was curious when a man I never saw before came to the wake to view the body. He then silently took a seat in the back. I had noticed him, but had not really put much thought into it. After all, it was my mama’s funeral and they might as well have buried the other side of my heart.
It is amazing to see what my father looked like all those years ago. Even though the photograph is, 25-years-old, he pretty much looks the same, except for a few extra pounds and gray hair. I begin to pick apart his features; it is almost creepy how much I look like him. I may be bi-racial, but I say I have more Black in me than Puerto Rican. My hair is a wild array of crinkly curls. It is just all over the place. My mama’s hair was silky and bone straight. She never quite knew what to do with my hair so she just sort of let it be. My nose is a little wider than hers. I have slanted eyes, as she did, but they are a light brown, whereas hers were a very dark brown. Honestly, I did not get too much from my mama. As I previously stated, I look so much like the stranger in the photo, that it is scary. I continue to look at the photograph and curiosity gets the best of me. I wonder what my father would say if he got a chance to meet me after all these years. Would he accept me, or would he reject me as if he and my mother never were? Would I mess up his life? It would be nice to have a sibling. I always wanted an older sister, and according to my mama, he had a daughter. I wonder what she would think of me. Would she embrace me or turn me away? Would she think that I had come to mess up her family?
I just do not know what to do. Part of me wants to go there and demand they get to know me and love me and realize that we had all been cheated out of getting to know one another. Another part of me doesn’t want to make the attempt for fear of rejection. I am so confused. I look at the photo one last time, put it back into the trunk, and look to see if I can find any other pictures of my mama and Kenneth. She was such a pretty girl, I wonder why she kept all of her photos locked up and hidden like this.
There were only two photos I saw relevant to the time frame I was seeking, One where she was obviously pregnant with me, but she looked so sad and forlorn, as if she were wishing that she was in a far away place. In the other photo, she was holding me at the hospital, and she had the same dejected look on her face as in the other one. Life, knowing that she had to raise me alone, must have been hard for her to swallow. She looked so lost. I put that picture back and continued to dig deeper. At the bottom of the box, there are a couple pieces of crumpled paper that immediately piqued my interest. I grab them and leave everything else in the box. As I unfold the papers slowly, I begin to get an uneasy feeling that my life may be changed by whatever is written on them. I look down and begin to read:
January 10, 1984
Kenneth,
How do I even begin? I am all out of sorts lately. I did not mean what I said earlier about the baby. I never miscarried. I just didn’t want you to have to suffer, and ruin your life because you had a little too much fun with an overzealous teenage girl once upon a time. Somehow, in this equation, it does not seem fair to me. I am the one that is left with the burden of a baby to raise by myself. My parents have disowned me. I have nothing. There are days that I regret meeting you and getting pregnant. I resent this baby inside of me so much. This baby has taken away my youth and my life, and replaced it with what? An uncertain future? A child that will never have the chance to know its father? I don’t even know the first thing about raising a baby. What if I screw this kid up? I do not know what I am doing. I wish that I could talk to you but I realize my place. You used me and while I know I may have been a willing participant, I did not expect things to turn out this way. I do not know what I expected. I just know that this was not it. I no longer want the baby. What was I thinking? I cannot do this…I cannot.
The one you screwed over,
Blanca
Wow, my Mama didn’t even want me. I felt the tears pressing against my lids. I continue on to the next piece of paper.
April 28, 1984
Kenneth,
You have no idea what you are missing. I had a beautiful baby girl. She is gorgeous. I named her Emeri Kendall. I could not name her Kenneth, so Kendall was the best I could do. This way she has a small piece of you attached to her. I cannot explain it, but I love her so much already and she has barely even opened her eyes twice. To think I did not want her. How could I have been so selfish? No matter what, I promise I will find a way to take care of her. She looks just like you too. Not too much of me in her. Ten fingers and ten toes…she’s a miracle and you know what the good part is, she’s all mine and no one will ever be able to take her away from me. Not ever. I am going to love her for now and always.
Thank you so much for my precious gift,
Blanca
A teardrop escapes from my eye and travels down the worn paper. I miss my mama so much. It is astonishing how close I feel to her through her written letters. There is a time lapse between the next letter and the one that I had just read. Mama must have been too busy concerned with me to write.
September 16, 1989
Kenneth,
You cannot imagine the worry that Emeri just put me through. They had to rush her to the hospital from kindergarten today. My baby fell off the monkey bars and landed square on her face. She scraped all the skin off her cheek and chin. When I went to the hospital, her face was wrapped in bandages. She looked like a little mummy. I felt so bad when she saw me and tried to smile. It was so heart wrenching. Oh my baby!
Worried,
Blanca
August 15, 1998
Kenneth,
Emeri is starting high school! Where has the time gone? I cannot believe how grown up she is now. I wish that you could see her. She is absolutely beautiful. I swear every time I look at her, I see you. She is so calm. Her temperament comes from you because I know I used to be hell on Earth. I have been thinking that maybe you should meet her. I think she would love to meet you. She might hate me for what I have done to her life, but it seems like such an injustice to you not to see how wonderful she is.
Confused,
Blanca
June 1, 2002
Kenneth,
I did it! Emeri is graduating high school in four days. I managed to raise her, and I must say, I did a pretty good job. My baby is graduating at the top of her class. She is the valedictorian. How exciting is that? I got her through high school without going through a pregnancy or being addicted to drugs or boys. God could not have blessed me with a better child. How did I ever get so lucky? Meeting you is the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you for adding her to my life.
Extremely Proud,
Blanca
I picked up the last letter, which was in an addressed envelope.
February 14, 2008
Kenneth,
I am dying. Can you believe that? Breast cancer is killing me. My body cannot fight it any longer. I’ve been thinking long and hard. Actually, for the last couple of years, I have been going back and forth about this. I really want you to meet our daughter. I believe that she will bring a joy to your life that you have never known before. I know that my time here is short and I want her to have family somewhere. Please find it in your heart to except her, despite the situation. I know I was wrong to keep her from you, but blame me for that. Do not blame Emeri. I know that you have a good heart Kenneth, which is one of the reasons that I fell so hard for you. I never loved anyone after you. You were the only one. I loved you the best way I knew how, through Emeri. Forgive me.
Love,
Blanca
My hand was shaking by the time I finished reading the last letter. I cannot believe that my mother still loved my father after all these years. That kind of love was almost unheard of. I look down at all of the papers spread out around me and contemplate what to do. I feel
so unsure of myself. Ever since my mama broke the news to me of my father not knowing about me, and then seeing him at the funeral, made me want to seek him out and get the opportunity to know him. I would love to see what kind of person my sister is, and to find out if we resembled each other in looks, or have any of the same personality traits. I look on the outside of the envelope again and study the address. Maybe I will pay my father a visit….
…I never realized how pretty Maryland can be. I am used to the streets of New York City, with all of the hustle and bustle going on. Here, it is so pure and the air seems so fresh. There are rolling green hills everywhere. I think I’m in love with the area already. The trip down was uneventful. I just hopped in my car and decided to go for it before I lost my nerve. Now that I am nearing my destination, I am beginning to feel a little apprehensive. What would Kenneth think when he laid eyes on me? What will his wife think of his obvious infidelity with a young Puerto Rican girl from New York all those years ago? My nerves are starting to get the best of me; maybe this was not such a good idea.
Naima 14
“Camille, can you come into my office please?” I say into the intercom.
Another day almost complete at the office, and I am as unfocused as you can get. I have been trying to piece together the details of Damir’s birthday extravaganza for the meeting that we are having tomorrow. I was trying my best to put something really intricate and exciting together for him, so he would know just how well the company could throw a party for him, but my thoughts keep drifting to how wonderful he is.
“Yes, Ms. Vaughn?” I turn to look at Camille as she interrupts my thoughts.
“Camille can you tell me the status of Mr. Collins party? I am going through his paperwork and cannot seem to fabricate two thoughts into my head.”
“Well,” she starts slowly. “No one has really been working on his party. You are the sole consultant, so we were just waiting for you to give us the word go.”
The headache that I just got rid of came back at full force with her comment. I slowly nod my head and then slice my eyes at her.
“Do you mean to tell me that not one vendor has been called, and nothing has been planned since the first day that he walked into this office?” I put down the paperwork I was reviewing and gave her my undivided attention. “Please explain to me how I am supposed to give him a run down by tomorrow when we have nothing accomplished?”
“I don’t have an answer, Ms. Vaughn.”
“Camille, you have been working here long enough to know the drill. Once you have received his completed questionnaire you are supposed to get things in motion.” I continue to look at her as she cocks her head to the side and shift her weight to the other foot. “Never mind about all that,” I say to her, “Can you please start calling caterers and other vendors who can help us bring the seventies theme together? Thanks.” Without waiting for her reply, I turn back to my computer, dismissing her. Good help sure is hard to find.
I rub my temple; my headache is building momentum. I jump as my private line begins to ring. Picking up the receiver slowly as I feel the pain in my temple increase, I am really not in the mood to talk to anyone.
“Hello?”
“Naima please don’t hang up, please listen to what I have to say, please.” I hear a familiar voice pleading with me on the other end and groan inwardly. Lord knows I do not need this right now.
“Haven, what do you want? I have nothing to discuss with you.”
“I just want to explain to you what happened. I want us to be friends again.”
“You know what Haven, as much as you want to be friends again, I don’t. I don’t have time for this, so listen and listen good, because I don’t want there to be any confusion as to what I am about to say to you. I am only going to say it once. Our friendship is over. I want nothing to do with you. I don’t like you, can’t stand you, and I am perfectly okay with never seeing you again. With that being said, I have to go now. There are more pressing matters that I must attend to.” I hang up the phone. The nerve of that girl. I really don’t know why we were ever friends in the first place.
I swivel in my chair and look out the window. I want to call it a day so bad because it looks so nice out. The sun is shining and you can hear the sound of children’s laughter as they are getting out of school and head home. Feeling nostalgic, I think of how Haven and I used to be when we were their age. We used to have a ball. I don’t think I have one childhood memory that she is not in. How could I have misjudged her so much? I loved her like a sister. I still love her, but how can I forgive what she did to me? It feels like she personally attacked me for the last eight years of my life. She acted as if my feelings did not matter in the grand scheme of things, as long as she got what she wanted she was justified in her actions. Laying my head on the window, I keep thinking how life is crazy. I never thought my life would turn out like this. Not my life. It was supposed to be perfect. I had the man of my dreams, that gave me beautiful children, and a best friend that I would do anything for. Look how that shit turned out. I look at the children on the sidewalk again, and smile. They make me miss Namiyah and Kalani. It’s amazing, when I’m around them, I want a break from them but when I am away from them, I am always afraid that I am going to miss something. I let out a long sigh as I swivel back around to face the mountain of paperwork on my desk. Oh, well. There is work to be done. The upside to this madness is that Damir and I are meeting for Happy Hour at his place this evening. I cannot wait to see that sexy man again. I am wearing my risqué lingerie today. I definitely plan to get me some tonight. It has been way too long since I had some skin-on-skin action. Way too long.
A couple of hours later
Today has felt like the longest day in my life, even more so than birthing my babies. Camille finally did her job, and we pulled together many of the details for Damir’s party, which I, for one, am extremely excited about. Now I can look like the professional that I am in our meeting tomorrow.
I look around my office one more time, and believe that it is definitely a wrap. I grab my blue and white Dooney & Bourke purse and head for the door. The ride to Damir’s house does not take long. Probably because I am so anxious to get there, I am flying down the road as if I have lost my mind. I have directions in one hand, while I’m steering wheel with the other. I really need to invest in a GPS system, but I will worry about that another time. When I pull up in front of his place, he is sitting outside on his front step with a white tank top, basketball shorts, white socks and Nike slippers waiting for me. He looked good enough to eat for dessert, and everyone that know me, knows how much I love dessert.
He stands up as I park, and makes his way over to my car to open the door for me.
“Hey you. How you doing today?” I ask him as I get out of the car.
He closes my door, and immediately picks me up and spins me in a circle, and buries his face in my hair.
“You smell good. You have no idea how good you feel in my arms,” he says as he tightens his arms around me. “My day is going so much better now that you are here.”
The simple words coming out of his mouth sound like the most erotic, sensual foreplay you could ever imagine. He would not have to do too much; my body is already responding to his voice.
He put me down so that I could follow him into his house.
I like his house. It reminds me of that MTV show Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica. His house is pretty much laid out like theirs, very impressive. Shoot, I do not even have my own house anymore. Having to move back in with my parents was definitely not where it was at, too hard to get your grown and sexy on.
Damir took me straight to the basement, where his bar is located, and promptly made me a vodka and cranberry drink.
I look at him in amazement.
“So umm, you’re not going to give me a grand tour of the place?” I ask him.
“The only tour I want to go on,” he says as he tilts my face up and fixates his gaze on mine, “involves my hand
s and your body. Any other kind of tour you are talking about can wait. Right now I want you to sit down, take this drink,” which he hands me, “and relax while I give you a full body massage.”
I took a few sips of my vodka and cranberry. The words body massage sent a tingle up my spine. Just the idea of Damir running his hands up and down my flesh, made my body hot, or maybe it might be the drink he made for me. I do not know which, but Damir had my mind gone.
**************************************************
I rode home in silence. It is unbelievable how bad my head was pounding now. I must have had way too many drinks. I do not even want to think, much less drive. Everything seems like it is too much to handle today - well everything but Damir, that is. He has been such a delicious distraction from my life. Just thinking about him, and how he made my body feel, had me about to buck a U-turn. Whoo…good times, good times.
As I am pulling into my parent’s driveway, I notice a car parked a small distance away from the tree in the front yard. That is not completely out of the ordinary, since they do have neighbors who park wherever they want to. This time, for some reason it seems a little strange. From the looks of it, the driver keeps glancing at the house, as if trying to figure something out. I slowly get out of my car, trying to form some type of conclusion as to why the person keeps looking at my parent’s house. As I approach the front door, I hear a car door open and close. I turn to look, as the driver of the vehicle begins to move toward me. The person that I am staring at is astonishing. She looks like an exotic model, with her slightly slanted light brown eyes, crinkly, tossed shoulder-length brown streaked blond hair, and she stands about 5’9. I look at her expectantly while she glances around and hesitates before she speaks.