Never Again, No More

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Never Again, No More Page 7

by Untamed


  Exhaling deeply, I knew I had to end this quickly. “Ay, Dios. Por favor. No tantas preguntas!” I told her. “It’s just that mami needs to think about what it is she needs to get at the store, okay?” Nadia was a bright child who could drive you completely insane, in a good way.

  “Okay, Mommy. I promise not to ask any more questions if I can get some Starburst,” she said, trying to hustle me.

  “Okay. Deal,” I agreed, just to change the subject.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, then took my hand. We ran across the parking lot and into the store.

  After getting my odds and ends, and Nadia’s Starburst, and putting gas in my car, we headed home. To my surprise, her raggedy father was sitting on my stoop when we got there.

  “Daddy!” Nadia exclaimed as she ran full force ahead to Raul.

  “Nadia! Wait!” I yelled, to no avail. She was already in Raul’s arms.

  “’Sup, hija!” Raul exclaimed, hugging her.

  “Nada, papi. I thought you were at work.”

  Raul looked at me, and I gave him a look that said, “Go along with it.” He looked back at Nadia with a nervous smile. “I was.” He hesitated. “But I got off early just to come and see you. I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up earlier.”

  She smiled brightly. “It’s okay. I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

  Raul kissed her cheek. “Never that. You’re my baby doll.”

  “I love you, papi,” she said, hugging him tighter.

  “I love you too,” he said to her.

  That was when I got pissed. Wasn’t this the same man who, a few hours ago, had told me he couldn’t pick up his child, because he had other things to do with his time? Yep, this was the same man, Raul Deadbeat-Ass Garcia. Now he had the nerve to sit here and act as if he had so much love for her. I could’ve slapped the hot piss out of his ass. Instead, I planned on giving him a piece of my damn mind.

  “Nadia, here is your Starburst. Go inside the house and then go to the bedroom and read a book, okay?”

  “Yes, mami,” she replied before taking the candy and trotting inside.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned and laid into Raul. “I’m not covering your ass anymore with her,” I said sternly to Raul while pointing my finger in his face. “She deserves better from you.”

  He dismissively fanned my finger away. “I didn’t come to argue.” He reached into his pocket. “I got my child support.”

  Shocked, I calmed down. And I eased up. Usually, child support was something I had to track his ass down for, as if I was a damn bounty hunter. This time he had actually shown up at my house with it. Wow!

  “Ahead of schedule?” I asked in amazement. That was, until I saw how much he had brought. I should have known it was too good to be true. He just would not do right. “Um, Raul, you’re about a hundred and fifty dollars short.”

  He gave me that usual dumb look he plastered on his face when he was about to fib, so I waited for the lie to come. “I know, but this is all I could spare. I’ll try to get—”

  I put my hand up to interrupt him. “How do you need money when you live at home with your mom?”

  “I have expenses too, Lucinda,” he said with an attitude.

  With my neck drawn back, I leaned my head to the side and placed my hand on my hip. “Yeah, you do, and the number one expense is your child,” I said angrily. “And you can take the bass out of your voice when you’re talking to me.”

  Ignoring my attitude, he continued with his own. “Like I was saying . . . I’m trying to get up the rest,” he said in the same dismissive-ass way as he again fanned my finger out of his face.

  The one who wanted to go ham on his ass was me! I felt the heat rise from the bottom of my feet to the crown of my head, but instead of activating ghetto mode, I tried to reason with him. My hope was that if he understood the dilemma, he’d follow through on the promise he’d made to me earlier this week. Times were hard, and I needed him to do his part.

  “Okay, listen,” I said calmly, and surprisingly, he gave me his undivided attention. “Her day-care payment is due on Friday, and I do not have the extra money to pay for it. I have some other bills to pay. You promised to have my back this week. You promised.”

  “And I’m going to . . . I just don’t have it all right now,” he lied.

  “Well, if not now, when?”

  He shrugged. “Soon.”

  This sum-ma-ma bitch! Fuck it! I was too tired and frustrated to stand there and argue with his ig’nit—yes, ig’nit—ass any further. He had bypassed regular ignorance years ago.

  “If they ask me about the day-care bill, I’m going to point them in your direction,” I said sarcastically.

  “Whatever, man! Let me just go in here and say good-bye to my baby. Can I do that without you bitching and moaning about it?” he said. Then he went inside without waiting on my response. I rolled my eyes and followed him inside.

  “I have to go, Nadia,” he said when he found her in the living room.

  “But I wanted you to play with me,” Nadia whined.

  “I know, and we’ll have another day to do all that. I promise you that. But for now, just be good and get ready for bed. You have school tomorrow.”

  “Okay, papi. Can you read me a bedtime story before you leave?”

  He smiled hesitantly. “Sure,” he responded, looking as if he didn’t want to.

  She produced a book from behind her back as he sat down on the sofa with her.

  While he read, I took my items into the kitchen and looked at my checking account register, which read $9.60, the entire balance of my account. As I looked back and forth between the bank account register and my shorted child-support payment, I tried to figure out how in the hell I was going to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. The longer I looked at this grim picture, the more pissed off I became. I wanted to run into the living room and whip Raul’s ass, and only one thing stopped me: Nadia’s laughter. Were it not for the fact that I knew just how much Nadia loved him, he would be residing in Grady Hospital tonight. That little girl was my life, and I would never do anything to upset her. Even if it meant that I had to swallow my anger to allow her the few moments of joy she got to experience with her so-called father. My love for her far exceeded my hatred for him, and since she wanted to spend time with Raul, I did not interfere.

  I just didn’t know how I was going to do this by myself anymore. Raul could run up in here like he was the best daddy in the world, and I had to deal with paying my cell phone, electric, and car insurance bills this Friday. Not to mention that I was probably going to be stuck with coming up with the rest of the day-care money. All I asked was that he took care of that one bill—I had the rest—and he couldn’t even do that. Tears of hurt and anguish filled my eyes as I listened to Nadia giggle at his silly-ass sound effects as he read the story.

  As I opened my empty refrigerator and stared at its contents, the sound of Raul’s voice surrounded me. The sight of my week-old milk, wilted lettuce, two slices of bread, and half a pitcher of Kool-Aid infuriated me even more. This was no way to live. While he sat down to a home-cooked meal at his mom’s house every night, I had bread and no meat, old milk and no cereal. Kool-Aid with no food. I needed the extra money from my paycheck to put groceries in the house. If Raul had given me my full child-support payment, I could pay the day-care bill. I could not turn to my parents for help. My father, or lack thereof, was going broke to care for Rosemary, a child that wasn’t his, while my mom couldn’t afford to spare any money, since she was the sole provider for my sisters and brothers.

  How could Raul treat Nadia like this? Did he not know the pain it caused me when she asked for simple things like Starburst and it was a stretch for me to give her such things since he refused to do his part? Did he even care? My shorted child-support payment told me the answer. Hell to the no! If there was one thing Raul had been completely consistent about, it was that he didn’t give a damn about anybody except Raul.

&n
bsp; I wiped my tears and filled my refrigerator with the few items I was able to purchase today and wondered how I was going to put more food in the refrigerator this week. After paying all the bills, I would have no money left. Something had to give.

  It looked like I was going to have to ask Trinity for help again. I hated to ask her for money. Although she didn’t mind, I hated being indebted to anyone. I didn’t like borrowing drug money especially. She was my girl, but she was playing with fucking fire by dealing with Pooch. You’d have thought she had learned her lesson after Terrence, but some people never learned. Oh well. In the interim, her relationship with Pooch was now going to benefit me too. No shade intended. I wasn’t trying to use my friend. I was trying to survive for my daughter.

  When I glanced at the time and saw how late it was, I pulled myself together long enough to go and break up the father-daughter meeting so that Nadia could get ready for bed. After Raul’s lying ass left, I bathed Nadia and put her into bed. Then I showered and lay down to ponder the counselor’s words. You will be at Piedmont. Just you wait and see.

  I hoped so.

  * * *

  Waiting was all it felt like I was doing. I had requested a meeting with my supervisor at work, but for the past three days, he’d been tied up in meetings and traveling, and so now I was frustrated. However, this morning, when I walked into work and booted up my computer, I had an email waiting for me from my supervisor, asking me to meet with him at ten o’clock in his office. I couldn’t wait for ten o’clock to roll around. I needed to get my work schedule changed so that I could take the next step toward my future by enrolling at Piedmont Tech.

  “So, Lucinda, you wanted to see me?” my supervisor asked after I walked into his office and shut the door behind me.

  “Yes, I did, Mr. Sharper,” I said, sitting down in the seat across from his at his desk.

  “I’m all ears. What’s on your mind?” he replied.

  “Well, I was wondering if there was another shift that I could work. Perhaps a night shift or an early morning shift,” I said, getting right to the point.

  He furrowed his eyebrows. “Why? Is something wrong with the shift you’re currently working?”

  “No. I love it. It’s just that I was accepted into college and am eligible for financial aid and grants, but all the classes I need to take meet during my work hours. In other words, my work schedule would conflict with my college schedule,” I explained, crossing my fingers that this meeting would go over smoothly with my supervisor.

  “Well, congratulations, Lucinda. I love to see young adults excel, so let’s see what shifts we have available,” he said as he opened the employee schedule. As he examined the schedule up and down, he scratched his head and frowned. I knew I was in for some bad news. “Lucinda, it seems that all my early morning part-time positions are filled, and I don’t have any night shifts available.”

  “Well, what about the afternoon?” I asked.

  “I do have one five-to-eleven evening shift available, but that would include Saturdays,” he responded.

  This couldn’t be happening. There was no way I could work from 5:00 to 11:00 p.m. I didn’t have anyone who could keep Nadia that late, especially with my mom working a second shift. I might be able to arrange for my siblings to watch her for a couple of hours if I got off at nine o’clock, but they definitely couldn’t watch her until eleven o’clock. And since I already worked at Susie Q on the weekends, I couldn’t take a shift at the insurance company that included Saturdays. I wouldn’t have time to do any coursework, and it would take more time away from Nadia on the weekend. Without a babysitter or her father’s support, I had no one to watch her.

  “Please don’t say that,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry. I mean, I have full-time slots, but they would probably still conflict with your school schedule. The only times I have available are seven to four, ten to seven, and two to eleven,” he explained.

  He was right. Those work schedules would conflict with the college schedule.

  “What about another department? Surely, someone has something available.”

  He sighed and looked as if he was in deep contemplation. “Robin would request that you do a formal transfer, which takes three weeks, and Joe is at maximum staff right now. If they’re hiring in any other departments, you would have to see if a position is available, apply, and then interview for it. The only other thing I can do is put in a word for you with Robin to see what she has available.”

  “Could you please do that? This is extremely important to me,” I pleaded.

  “Sure, Ms. Rojas. I can do that for you,” he said happily. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance to you,” he added, apologizing with sincerity. He reached his hand across the desk to shake mine.

  Putting my best face forward, I shook his hand. “It’s no problem. I understand.”

  “Okay, good. I will put in a word with Robin and get back with you.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I stood. As I walked out of his office, I had only one small glimmer of hope, and I prayed that Robin would pull a rabbit out of a hat for me.

  Just then, my cell phone buzzed. It was Trinity. “Hey,” I said when I answered.

  “You called me?” she asked as I hurried into the break room.

  “Yes, hon, I did. I need a favor.”

  “Day care?” she asked quickly.

  “Yeah. Raul didn’t come up with his full portion—”

  “No need to explain,” she interrupted. “Stop by after work. I got you.”

  “I really appreciate this, Trinity.”

  “Aren’t you my best friend?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But that’s what friends are for,” she interrupted again. “I said I got you. Now stop stressing.”

  “I love you, girl.”

  “Back at you,” she said before disconnecting the call.

  As I headed back to my desk, I thought, Okay, God . . . That is one favor down and one more to go.

  Charice

  Ever since Ryan had canceled his plans to visit this weekend, I had been a blubbering mass of emotion. I didn’t know why I was so shocked that he had canceled on us. I guessed a part of me still held on to the little bit of goodness I knew was in him. Ryan had been arrogant, conceited, and selfish even back then, but there was good in him. There was a side only I saw . . . and perhaps his parents did too.

  I remembered when I had the flu during high school, Ryan had skipped school and had come to my house, armed with cans of Campbell’s soup and a box of Theraflu. He had missed a chemistry test, which he’d been unable to make up, and during this time it had been crucial for him to keep his grades up if he was to get a scholarship. Yet he had stayed with me all day, had held me, made my food, and made sure I got plenty of liquids and medicine.

  He’d always make sure to give me a kiss after every game, and he had constantly shared his dreams and aspirations with me. After singing me to sleep every night, Ryan had made sure I received a wake-up call every morning. That was the Ryan I knew and loved. That was the Ryan that I couldn’t let go of, and I refused to believe that he could never go back to being the Ryan of then. I had it bad.

  It was sad to say, but I even kept a picture of him on my desk at work, which was where I was at the present moment. Somehow that photo just kept me close to him.

  “Is this Roderick Bell?” I asked as a man walked into my office, holding a six-month-old baby and a baby bag.

  “Yes, it is,” he responded as he sat down across from me and settled the baby on his lap.

  “And you are?” I asked, flipping through the baby’s chart.

  “I’m his dad, Derron Bell. His mom is sick, so I told her I’d take him for his checkup and to pick up his WIC,” he answered.

  I looked at them closely, and they looked damn near identical. I was impressed that he had brought his son to his appointment. In my line of work, dads were few and far between. Hell, in my own life story too. It was
refreshing to see a young man stepping up to the plate and doing what he had to do for his child.

  “Well, I am Charice Taylor, his nutritionist. It is very sweet of you to bring him in,” I said, introducing myself, as I played with baby Roderick.

  He shrugged. “Ain’t no thang to me. He’s my little man. The way I see it, it’s also my responsibility.”

  My mouth nearly hit the floor. “How old are you?”

  “I’m nineteen,” he answered. “Check it. I never had no pops. My moms was all we had, so I promised myself that when I had kids, I’d never be like that. I feel like I owe it to my son’s mom to be there. I didn’t like the way my dad did my moms and me, so I wasn’t going to do my son’s mom and my son like that.”

  “Raynelle is a very lucky young woman to have a man like you,” I said, suddenly remembering the mother’s name.

  He shook his head. “Nah, you got me twisted. I’m not with Raynelle no more. I mean, she is psycho crazy. I mean not, like, for real, but she be buggin’ on a brother, so I had to bounce. Regardless of that, this is my man, and Raynelle knows she can count on me. We may not have gotten along in a relationship, but we ain’t got no problems concerning little man.”

  Before I knew it, tears were at the base of my lids. I quickly grabbed some tissues to keep from balling right then and there.

  “Damn. You all right, Miss Lady?” he asked.

  “I am so sorry. It’s just . . . That was so touching.”

  He laughed. “Are you pregnant or something? You are mighty emotional.”

  “No, I am not.” I laughed.

  “Yo! Shit! Is that Ryan Westmore?” he asked excitedly as he pointed to the picture on my desk.

  “Yep. The one and only.”

  “Man, I heard he was from here, but I never believed it.” He stared at the photo. “You know him?” he asked.

  “Yes. We dated,” I revealed.

  “And you still have his picture up? He must’ve been one hell of a boyfriend. Raynelle has a picture of me and little man, but she keeps it in his room, so it ain’t blocking her from getting a man,” he said with a chuckle.

 

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