Fool, Stop Trippin'

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “Uh, will you take a check?”

  “This is the express line, ten items or less and cash only. I can let you slide with your twelve items, but I cannot take a check. I have a void,” she yells to the manager in the booth.

  What da hell? I can’t even take my items to the longer line because they won’t take my check without my identification, which is in my damn wallet. This shit is crazy because I know it was there before I left the house. Pissed, I leave the shit right on the belt.

  I check in between and under the car seats, but my wallet isn’t there. I have no choice but to drive home empty-handed.

  Leah

  With one eye squinted open, I test the brightness of the morning sun. Warming rays pierce my eyes as I quickly close them again. I’m not ready to get up and face my day because this bed is feeling so comfortable. But I fight the desire to snuggle deep in the sheets and catch a few more winks. It’s Saturday and it’s Kentee’s weekend to watch the kids, which is all the motivation I need to get my behind up and outta the bed. Normally, he picks up the children at ten and when they’re gone, I have the next thirty-two hours to please myself. The very thought of freedom is enough to wipe all the weariness from my brain as I embrace the sun.

  I dance around the bedroom as I pick out my clothes and make up my bed. It has been a long and tiring week and I’m looking forward to a relaxing couple of days with Craig. I start singing while I pack my children’s bags ’cause in just under forty-five minutes, I’ll be taking off the Mommy hat for the weekend. It’s a wonderful feeling.

  I never dreamed motherhood would be such a full-time job. I also never envisioned myself being a single mother of three children, but shit happens. As a child, I never wanted children. I envisioned a loving and supportive husband who would make me the center of his world. I even fantasized about the life we would live, both of us successful in our careers and jet-setting around the world. Children were never part of these fantasies. Unfortunately, life has a way of changing both your expectations and dreams, oftentimes all in the same sucker punch.

  When I married Kentee, I thought I’d met the yin to my yang, my soul mate and life partner. It was like that in the beginning. He showered me with attention and affection. Our relationship was spontaneous and full of fire. This all changed in the twinkling of an eye when I peed on a test strip, marking the end of our love affair with ourselves. From that moment, we had to be responsible parents; something neither of us was prepared for.

  Feeling morose, I try to rid myself of those painful memories. Kentee and I have been over and done with for a few years and I am finally happy about it. No longer am I holding on to false hope that he will return. It still feels weird seeing him when he comes to pick up the children. It’s like he wants something from me and I cannot figure out what it is. I am content with our relationship as it is. I know that he doesn’t approve of my growing relationship with Craig, but that’s his problem, not mine. Kentee moved on without my permission, and now I’m moving on too.

  I’m just waiting for him to mention the fight I had with his hoodrat girlfriend that almost put my job in jeopardy. So far he hasn’t said anything but I know it’s coming soon.

  Yesterday, I finally received word that I wouldn’t lose my job as a result of the altercation. According to my supervisor, they let Tarcia go. Although I was happy not to lose my job, I don’t like the fact that she got fired. It’s rough out there and even though she did me dirty, she didn’t act alone. My ex played a part in the whole thing, a very big part, and if I was really going to get mad at someone, it would be him.

  I had been avoiding Tarcia like the plague ever since I found out she was the woman my husband left me for. Maintaining my cool wasn’t easy, because I really wanted to yank every hair out her head and punch the pure taste out of her mouth at the same time. It was only by the grace of God that I hadn’t put my foot up her ass prior to the argument. God handles things in His time and not mine.

  The fact that they chose me over her has to be an indication of the good job I am doing. More importantly, I love my job and when it comes down to it, better her than me. Shoot, she didn’t give a rat’s ass about me when she was sleeping with my husband. Why should I care about her ass?

  Rushing to the bathroom, I stare at my reflection, pleased at what I see. I have come a long way from the emotional wreck I was when Kentee first left me broke and practically homeless.

  A few short years ago, I was about to be homeless, with three small children. I was so despondent, I even contemplated killing myself and my children. God delivered me from my darkest despair.

  Today I’m living in a beautiful house, and I have a great job and a new man who cares about me and my children. God you are good. Oh Lord…if you would bless me with the skills…I will write a book about how you delivered me from evil. How you picked up my broken-down body and forced life into my bones. And Lord, how you gave me hope and made my life better than I’ve ever imagined it could be. I just want to thank you, Lord. And can I say an amen, Lord for sending me a real man who knows how to handle his business and for showing me that I needed to make a choice, Lord. Oh, Lord, thank you.

  I dance around the bathroom as if I am really in church. Even though I am joking around I mean every word I say. Kentee thought he was working his way back into my good graces, but I had news for his behind, it was not gonna happen.

  “Damn.” My happy feeling has evaporated. Dealing with Kentee depresses me. He makes me feel like he is doing me a favor by watching his own kids. As much as I want this weekend of freedom, I wish he would agree to pick up the children from my mother’s house so I would not even have to look at his ass. But he ain’t trying to hear that. He thinks he is going to work his way back into these panties. Little does he know, I’m so over his shit, it ain’t even funny. The only way he will ever see my panties again is if he checks the washing machine. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. That motherfucker fooled me a whole bunch of times, but it is over now. I am going to send him on his way with a quickness so I can enjoy the rest of my weekend. I’ve spent enough time thinking about his dumb ass.

  I know how Kentee’s mind works. He’s trying to show he’s worthy of a second chance. I haven’t discouraged him yet, but I haven’t encouraged him either. I don’t think he deserves the advance notice since he didn’t tell me he was having an affair with Tarcia after the twins were born. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” Momma always said. If I have to pretend to still have feelings for him in order for him to do right by his kids, then so be it. I need my downtime for the children’s sake, without being a burden to my mother all the time who is suffering from her own health issues. Nagging thoughts invade my peace as I hold a conversation with the mirror.

  How much longer do you think you are going to be able to string him along?

  As far as I am concerned, I ain’t never gonna tell him the truth. He never told me the truth so why should I be so forthcoming?

  I’m not saying that you have to blab your mouth about Craig, but you will have to stop letting Kentee think you are considering hisgames. Why did you tell him that you would ask your mom to watch the kids next week, so ya’ll can go out on a date?

  How stupid is this? I am arguing with myself.

  Disgusted, I turn away from the mirror and start getting dressed. Yes, I am playing with fire but I’m not ready to end my weekend retreats. The reality is that if Kentee knew the extent of my feelings toward Craig, he would never see his children again. I brush my hair as I try to convince myself that I am doing the right thang. The phone interrupts my private conversation.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, baby, it’s me.” The words grate on my nerves. I haven’t been his baby in a long time.

  “Hello, Kentee. Is something wrong?”

  “No, I’m on the way. I was just wondering if you want to hang with me and the kids today.”

  “Kentee, I hang with the kids every day. So n
o, I will pass.”

  “What about the hanging with me part?” Ew, does donkey shit stink? How do I tell him that I would rather be run over by an eighteen-wheeler than go anywhere with him? For now, I choose to play his game, so I stall.

  “Uh…Kentee, I have to work today. They are depending on me to finish up this brief I was working on before I left.”

  “Damn, that job is really taking advantage of you. That’s why I never let you work when we were together. We are going to have to see about your getting back to the full-time mom status, aren’t we?” Kentee is laughing, but I cannot force myself to pretend that I found that even remotely funny. Kentee wants to keep me barefoot, pregnant, and dependent so he can control me. That shit is not happening to me ever again, even if Craig and I do decide to take our relationship further.

  I will never ever be in the position where I’m totally dependent on a man. I will always have my own money and if the fool wants to act an ass, it won’t have any financial effect on me. That was a life lesson Kentee taught me well and I refuse to ever forget it.

  “Maybe I can join you some other time. Are you still going to be here at ten?”

  “Yeah, I’m leaving the house now.” I can tell he is pouting.

  “Okay, I’ll have them ready because I really need to get to work.”

  “Alright, then, see ya later.”

  I stop by Kayla’s room first. She’s about to turn eight and is the spitting image of me when I was her age. She pretends to be asleep, but I can tell she isn’t. Her lips are holding a trace of a smile. I play along with her charade, acting like I’m going to leave the room, but she giggles.

  “I’m just playing, Mommy.”

  “Oh, you’re trying to trick me, huh?” I approach her with my fingers splayed and ready to tickle. She laughs before I even touch her.

  “Mommy, stop, I have to pee.” She has a point. If I tickle her now, she will wet the bed and I don’t feel like adding linen changes to my list of chores I need to do before Craig gets here.

  “Okay, you win. Hurry up and get dressed. Your dad will be here soon and you know how he hates to wait.” She throws back the covers and leaps from the bed.

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you too, Pumpkinhead.”

  “What are you going to do while we’re gone, Mommy?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I might go to a movie with Mr. Craig.”

  “Good, I don’t want you to be lonely. Ask him to take you to see an adult movie for a change, not that baby stuff Malik and Mya wanna see.”

  “What do you know about adult movies?”

  “Mom, everyone knows adult movies are rated ‘R.’ It even says it on commercials, that children under seventeen are not allowed.”

  “Well, excuse me.” I pinch her nose as I turn to leave the room. “I’ll make sure I ask him. Now get dressed.” I close the door behind me. I’m shocked that Kayla is finally able to look past herself and care about what I’m feeling. This is one of the biggest problems I have with raising children; they focus only on themselves and not the family as a whole. My oldest is growing up.

  Next, I check on Malik. Much to my surprise he’s already dressed. He was so quiet I didn’t hear him moving around the room he shares with his sister Mya. Although he’s too old to share a room with his sister, he’s very protective of her and wants to look after her. Mya and Malik are twins, but they are as different as night and day.

  Malik will be in second grade next year and he finds it difficult to be away from his twin during the school term. Mya has autism and she’ll continue to receive full-time care at the daycare center she attends while her brother and older sister go off to school.

  “Hey, little man, how long you been up?”

  “Hi, Mommy. Mya kept making noises so I got up and got dressed.”

  “Why didn’t you come and get me?” I ask, stooping down to check Mya’s head for a fever. Mya sleeps on the floor. She kept hurting herself when she rolled out of the bed, so I decided it was safer for her to remain on the floor.

  “They weren’t sick noises, she was making sleep noises.”

  “She was snoring?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she was doing, snoring.”

  “Oh, okay. Are you ready to spend the weekend with your dad?”

  “I guess.” He doesn’t appear to be excited, but in all honesty I didn’t expect him to be. He’s not one to be easily fooled by the okie-doke and his father is full of that.

  “Do you need me to help pack your bag?”

  “No, I did it myself.”

  “Good. Did you put in some clean underwear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why don’t you go downstairs and watch television while I get your sister dressed.”

  “Okay.” He hops off the bed without further ado and races down the stairs. If he is trying to beat his older sister, he will still be in luck because I could still hear her puttering around in her room.

  “Come back here, young man, and make your bed.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He made his bed quickly by pulling the covers up without bothering to smooth out the wrinkles in the sheet under his comforter.

  “I’ll fix it later, go ’head and claim your spot.”

  I tap Mya on the shoulder as she rolls over. I sign to her that it’s time to get up and surprisingly she signs back. She gets up and proceeds to make her bed. This is another small shock. Some days Mya’s full of cooperation but I have learned not to expect it. I kiss her gently on her forehead and remove her suitcase from the closet.

  Mya has been using sign language to communicate ever since she turned three. Craig, her teacher, discovered her hearing problems when she started at the daycare center, then he started teaching our whole family how to communicate with her. Mya used to get so frustrated because she couldn’t communicate with her brother and sister, so signing helps us all.

  I hold up several outfits for Mya’s inspection. Over the last few years, I learned I would get better results from Mya if I allowed her to make some of her own choices. She points to a pretty dress that she wants to take with her, and I smile at her selection. I ask if she wants to wear a different dress today and she nods yes. I place the outfit on her bed and finish putting the other dress in the suitcase along with clean underwear and socks. The doorbell rings as I’m tying Mya’s shoes. I can hear Kayla running down the hallway before I can get out the door.

  “Don’t forget to ask who it is before you open the door, Kayla,” I shout down the stairs.

  “Okay.” I look over the banister, but I can’t see who is there.

  “Who’s at the door, Kayla?”

  “The mailman.”

  “Oh, okay, just put it on the coffee table.”

  “I did already.”

  Why the hell was the mailman ringing the doorbell? I turn my attention to my own appearance. Although I don’t give a rat’s ass what Kentee thinks of me anymore, I refuse to look haggardly. I comb my hair into some semblance of order and go to fix breakfast. I turn down the television because Kayla has it up loud enough to wake the dead.

  “Aw, Mom,” Kayla whines.

  “Aw, Mom, ’nothing, I’m protecting your hearing and mine too.” A glance at my watch tells me that I don’t have time to fix breakfast after all. Let him feed them!

  I bring their bags to the door so Kentee can be in and out. I don’t do this for him, I do it for me. I’m anxious to get my weekend started as well. Craig didn’t tell me what we are going to do, but I’m ready for some adult fun!

  Leah

  “Hi,” Kentee says when I answer the door.

  “Hey.” I waste no further time with pleasantries. I start handing him bags before he can get both feet in the doorway. I develop an attitude just seeing him looking so good in his jeans and his black muscle shirt. I look away as I start to remember the good times and remind myself of the bad.

  “Damn, don’t I get to come in?”

  “Why? The kids ar
e ready.” I’m not trying to be rude; I just don’t see the need for chitchat.

  “I just want to come in for a second to catch up and see how you are doing.”

  “I’m fine. I told you on the phone I have to work. Please be sure to have the children back by six tomorrow night. I have to make sure that Kayla is ready for school in the morning. She has a tendency to lose her homework assignment until Sunday nights.”

  “Damn, Leah, you don’t have to be so cold. Hell, you weren’t all mean when I spoke to you a few minutes ago. So why the attitude?” ’Cause I’m still sexually attracted to your dumb ass and it’s easier for me if you get the fuck out before I do something I will regret for the rest of my life. I pause, placing my hands on my hips while looking him up and down as if he has lost his ever-loving mind. Is a weekend reprieve worth all of this? Hell to the yes, but I don’t feel like faking it anymore. It’s wearing on my nerves.

  “Kentee, we are not friends. We will never be friends after what you did to me and the children. You are my babies’ daddy, that’s it.” He starts to speak, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

  “I have agreed to be civil with you for the sake of the children, but it doesn’t mean I have to invite you into my home or entertain you. Now if this means that you are not going to take the kids with you, fine.”

  “Whoa, baby, hold on. Let’s not go back to where we were. I was trying to make conversation, that’s all. They are my kids and I want to spend time with them.”

  Turning before he could utter another word, I announce his presence.