by Nia Arthurs
Her words made me tear up. Only The Big Guy himself would have seen potential in the girl that I used to be.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s the beauty of knowledge, Mia. You don’t have to say anything,” Mr. Reyes grinned wide, “Whether or not you accept your greatness does not negate its existence. All my daughters should know that.” He lightly scolded. “You are special. You are gifted. You are valuable. You don’t have to become or earn any of these things. You just are.”
“I mean, I know that. But I don’t ‘feel’ that way all the time.”
“Honey, nobody feels that way all the time.” Mrs. Rey explained, “That’s why we have the Constitution to remind us of who we are and what we were created to be. It’s also why we have friends and family. It’s why we have husbands and wives,” Mrs. Reyes shared an intimate look with her husband, “I admire Peyton for stepping back and allowing you to figure things out for yourself. Sometimes, people can tell you all the good they see inside of you until they’re blue in the face, but until you see it, Mia, until you accept it then nothing will change.”
I wiped a renegade tear, “I feel like I’m so messed up.”
“We’re all flawed.” Mr. Reyes patted my shoulder, “That’s what makes us human.”
“But,” Mrs. Reyes reminded, “We’re all capable of change. And that is what makes us grow.”
Not long after, Mr. Reyes drove me home. We didn’t talk much during the drive because I was deep in thought. Tonight had been a good night. I was facing the heart of my issues with prejudice and pride. My insecurities had ruled me for far too long. I determined to shake them loose and walk in the freedom that is available to every citizen of the Kingdom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Daddy’s sixty-fifth birthday bash was held on the huge lawn of the local Brown Orchids Resort. It was a classy affair with twinkling Christmas lights strung on the trees and white linen decorating every standing surface. The white lawn chairs pushed under huge long tables lent the place an otherworldly flair. It was the perfect night for a party; the sweet breeze trailing from the Caribbean Sea a few feet away kept the mosquitoes at bay and the guests at ease. The soothing motions of the sea were complimented by the nine steel band players entertaining the partygoers with tinny renditions of popular soca songs. The church ladies had outdone themselves. This shindig was the embodiment of how much my father was admired at the Holy Living Waters Church.
I slipped next my oldest sister Thea, who had flown in from Canada to be with us. She was dressed in a tight black sequin dress and wore adorable strapless heels. Thea had gotten bigger than the last time I’d seen her which was approximately five years ago for our grandmother’s funeral. Her almond shaped eyes were the only thing we had in common. My skin was a lot darker than hers and the shapes of our faces differed too. Justin and Francesca couldn’t make it, but Karen drove down from Orange Walk to be a part of the night.
“You look so good!” Thea hugged me.
“Thanks. Mom said it looks like I’m wearing a tablecloth.” I did a little twirl to show off my multi-flower patterned black sleeveless dress. The cloth floated around before once again landing just above my knees. It was my own creation and I was proud of it, even if Mom disapproved.
“It does kind of resemble a tablecloth.” Thea teased, putting a fisted hand to her elbow as if deep thought. It felt good to laugh with my sister. She was ten years older than me, so we were not very close growing up. In fact, I think I irritated her during the years when we both lived under the same roof. When I was younger, I used to run away from the phone when she called from the States because I knew my mother would force me to talk to her. Thea was my sister but she was basically a stranger. Moments like this were treasured, rare, and sweet.
I laughed, “Wow, that hurt. Seriously, you bruised me. How’s my little nephew holding up with a mama so mean?” Thea had a ten year old son that I adored from afar since they lived so far away.
“He’s good. He loves hockey, gyal. It’s so strange to get excited about a game played on the ice when Belize has never seen snow.”
“I can imagine.” Hockey did not even blip the sports radar in my country. An awkward silence followed as we realized we really did not have much more to speak about. “Well, you look good!” I gave her another hug and broke away, “I gotta go get some food though. I’m starving.”
She waved me away and then turned to greet some of her childhood friends. I made my way through the crowd to the buffet table. The ladies of the church had decided to cater the main dishes and potluck the rest. That meant there was an abundance of food to sample. The main meal was the traditional rice and beans, stew chicken, potato salad and plantain. In addition, hot tamales, tacos, enchiladas, garnaches, and potato casserole summed up the bounty. The desert table was overflowing with cakes, pies, cupcakes, lemon tarts, and chocolates. I knew I’d be gaining five pounds just from looking at all of it. I grabbed a plate and started selecting the tasty dishes. When I got to the dessert table, I tried to balance one plate in my left hand and then share out a tart with my right. My plate wobbled and I cringed, trying to rectify the balance of the platter so it wouldn’t fall and spill food all over my dress.
“Whoa, I got it.” My rescuer straightened the plate and then took it from my hand, “You couldn’t put the food down, Mia?”
“I had it under control.” I whirled and recognized Peyton. Dressed in a blue and white checkered button-down shirt and blue jeans, the man sort of took my breath away. “Hey.” I said, when I recognized that it was my guy. We hadn’t spoken since our fight a few days ago. I hadn’t expected him to show up.
“You didn’t think I would ditch, did you?”
I grinned, “After that night, I wasn’t sure…”
He captured my hand and kissed the back of it, “I’m not going away that easy.”
I put my hand on his cheek for a second and then stepped away. “I’m glad you’re here but I was kind of busy.” I remarked, getting back to picking up my desserts.
Peyton laughed, “I come in second to food?”
I froze, “You didn’t know that?”
We shared a smile. I was really glad that Peyton had decided to come. I wanted to work on my struggle with insecurity and it was easier to do when I could talk to him.
“Excuse me.” Mrs. Bethel stood before Peyton, “you’re the young man that’s always in Mia’s apartment.”
Peyton glanced at me but stuck his hand out toward Mrs. Bethel. “Peyton Lowry, ma’am, it’s nice to meet you. Mia’s always talking about her gracious and attentive neighbor but she never told me you were so beautiful.”
Mrs. Bethel looked delighted at his compliment. Peyton had won over the older lady with a few lines and a smile. He really was something else.
Mrs. Bethel cackled, “Go on wid yuh. Call me Cecilia. Come ova anytime yuh need anything.”
“I will, Cecilia.” Peyton flashed a smile and Mrs. Bethel almost fainted. At first I was jealous but then I looked at the lemon tart in my hand and felt better. Peyton for a lemon tart… I would so make that trade.
Just kidding.
“I’ll talk to you about the project soon, Mrs. Bethel!” I informed her and she winked at me.
“Are you hungry?” I asked Peyton.
“Nah, not yet. Maybe a little later though.”
I nodded and handed him the bigger plate as I carried the dessert one and picked at the flaky crust of the lemon meringue pie. As we weaved our way through my father and mother’s friends, a few people stopped to talk to me. I introduced them all to my boyfriend and called him as such. Anyone who knew my father at all looked at me as though I were crazy or suicidal when I introduced the tall, white boy as my boyfriend. Yet, I carried on bravely. Peyton remained oblivious to the raised eyebrows, the widened eyes, and the avoidance of eye contact. Sometimes the people we greeted were a lot more tolerant but no less awkward. Peyton was a champ, answering each “oh, you guys
will have beautiful babies” with a cute quip or a laugh of acceptance. A few people even started a spiel about how we would “end racism” because we were “so inspiring”. The constant scrutiny, weird looks, and strange remarks we received were beginning to give me a headache. By the time we found seats at an empty table, my head was pounding.
“What’s the matter?” he asked when he saw my face.
“Doesn’t it bother you how everyone keeps asking us what our future children will look like? I mean, what if I can’t conceive?”
“You can’t?”
“I can, but that’s not the point.”
“It’s okay if you can’t.” Peyton continued the string of that conversation. “I believe in adoption, in fact…”
“Peyton!”
“Sorry. What’s the problem again?”
I groaned, “Don’t you feel like everyone’s watching us weird.”
Peyton craned his neck and slowly surveyed the crowd of Creole people milling about. “No, not really. I think everyone is here to support your dad. I’m just a white guy. No big deal.”
“And what about the way people keep talking about our imaginary babies? It’s driving me nuts.”
“Our babies will be gorgeous. I think that’s what they’re trying to say.”
“You’re so chill about this.”
“And you’re getting upset about nothing. We care about each other. Your family and friends will see that eventually and they’ll cut us some slack.”
At that moment, Karen and Thea came laughing and gasping at our table, dumping themselves into the empty seats around us.
Thea said, “I had to come check. Is it true?”
“Is what true?” I asked, feeling completely ashamed at my sisters’ behavior right now.
“Did you bring a white boy to Dad’s party?”
I glanced over at Peyton and noted his pale skin, “Oh, he’s white?”
Peyton snorted and I grinned. I could be chill about this too.
Karen sat down and looked me in the eyes, “Mia, what are you doing?”
Peyton started to get up, “Maybe I should go.”
I held his palm and urged him back to his seat. “No, my sisters have temporarily lost their manners but you shouldn’t go. I’m sure they’ll get it back in a minute.”
Peyton sat down and I gave each of my siblings pointed looks before introducing them. “Peyton, this is Thea and Karen, my older sisters.”
He offered his hand but neither woman acknowledged it, awkwardly Peyton waved at them instead. “Hi,”
Karen cringed at him as though he were dung and she needed to wipe him off of her shoe. I expected this kind of behavior from Karen. She’d always been the closest to Daddy. But Thea lived in Canada. She’d immersed herself in a culture where the white people far outweighed the colored. Her behavior disappointed me.
I frowned at my sisters, “You guys are being really rude.”
“It’s okay, Mia.” Peyton soothed, attempting to calm me down.
I stomped my feet, “It is not okay. This is the first man who has respected me and loved me and cherished me and he can’t even get a freaking handshake from my family.”
Thea looked censured but Karen narrowed her eyes at me, “You better hope he’s gone when Daddy gets here.”
With that my family members got up and stomped away. I sighed, covering my face with my hands.
“I’m so sorry about that.”
Peyton rubbed my back. He was so strong. He had come against the worst kind of ignorance and yet he was the one offering comfort.
‘Shh, babe it’s okay,”
“No, it isn’t. They were horrible to you. And my dad’s going to be worse.”
He meshed our fingers together. “I have you. I’ll be fine.”
“What’s everybody looking at?” Melody’s voice sounded in my ear. I turned to find my gorgeous friend in a loosely flowing more elegant form of her favorite summer dress. Spencer wore shorts that reached his knees and a T-shirt. They were very summer chic/casual.
“That would be me.” Peyton piped in, bumping Peyton with his fists. “Good to see you, man.”
“We had a little run-in with Karen and Thea just now.” I explained.
“Thea’s here? Where?” Melody half-rose out of her seat to scan the faces.
“She’s around here somewhere, probably dusting off her broom.”
“Ouch, Mia.”
“She was awful.” I defended.
“I’m trying to explain to Mia that I have thick skin. It might be pale but it’s good for something.”
Spencer added wisely, “He’ll be fine, Mia. We all learn to brush off the comments. And trust me, people make a lot of stupid comments. If I had a dollar for every time someone talked about our beautiful future children, I could take us all on a vacation to Europe.”
“Do people ever stop talking about the kids?” I wondered.
“Nope.” Melody and Spencer said together.
I moaned pitifully and Peyton rubbed my back again.
“In other news,” Melody quipped, “You look fantastic. I love it when you curl the ends of your hair like that.”
“Thanks,” I offered her a watery smile, “And who did your hair? It’s so cute!” Melody’s curly mane was tamed into a side sweep ponytail. It fit her face perfectly.
“I begged Alexi to do it for me. She’s good at making sense out of this nonsense.” Melody pulled at her curls. “Hey, are you wearing one of your own designs?”
I nodded, standing and stepping back so she could have a good look at the form, fit, and pattern of the dress.
“You look so amazing!” Melody enthused.
“My girl’s a knockout,” Peyton agreed with my best friend. “We might have to make out in the little gazebo sometime during the evening,” he added.
I hit him in the shoulder and he laughed at me.
Spencer saucily added, “Not if we’re in there first.”
Melody and I shook our heads and guffawed. “You are not getting that lucky.” Melody stated and I nodded my head in agreement. The guys groaned and as Melody berated Spencer playfully, I felt my mood lift. I was among friends and Peyton was right, eventually everyone would see what a great guy Peyton was and how well he treated me. Everything would be okay.
“They’re here!” Someone called loudly. The crowd of partiers rushed to light their sparklers. The steel pan struck up a fun rendition of ‘Happy birthday to you’ and everyone gathered at the pathway to the garden to welcome my father. Hopefully, he didn’t notice Spencer or Peyton until I could get him alone for an introduction. I hoped, but I knew it was a long shot. Worst case scenario, when I introduced Peyton to my father, Daddy had mild heart palpitations. Best case, he approved of my boyfriend and we all had a great night.
…. Yeah right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I managed to stay out of Daddy’s line of sight until the night was winding down and people were beginning to leave. There’d be fewer witnesses to observe this blood bath.
“Guys, wanna go say hi to my dad?” I turned to Melody and Spencer.
“You mean the one that hates all non-black people?” Spencer quipped, sipping on a Coke, “No thanks. I think I’ll pass.”
“Spencer,” Melody began to berate him. “That man is why we came here.”
“I thought we came here to support Mia?”
I halted their little tiff. “Nah don’t worry about it. It’s okay. You ready dude?” I addressed Peyton. His blue eyes widened but he stood courageously.
“Let’s do this thing.”
I held his hand and headed straight for Daddy. My dad looked quite sharp in a white guayabera shirt, pressed black slacks, and shiny black shoes. His balding head had been shaved into a low cut and he seemed happy and relaxed. I knew the moment that he spotted us. He immediately seemed distressed and tense. When he realized that the white man was walking with me and not simply beside me, Daddy choked on his drink and then handed
the glass to my mom as he put a napkin to his face and coughed.
When he’d completed his hacking, I rose to my toes and kissed his cheek, “Happy birthday, Dad.” I congratulated him softly. He smiled down at me but his face hardened when he looked at Spencer.
“Who is this?” Daddy asked firmly. The question was more hostile than friendly.
“Daddy,” I said with anxiety in my voice, “This is my boyfriend Peyton Lowry. He owns a business in L.A. with his best friend.”
Peyton had learned from my sisters and so did not hold his hand out for my father to reject. He grinned awkwardly.
“Happy Birthday, Mr. Johnson.”
I waited with baited breath to see what would happen next. If my dad’s hands started flying, I was fully prepared to tackle Peyton and get him out of harm’s way. The good news was Daddy didn’t punch Peyton in the face. I’d call that a homerun given the way that my father felt towards all white people in general. Instead, Daddy looked at me, looked at Peyton and then returned his attention to me.
“It’s good to see you, baby.” And then he pretended that Peyton was completely invisible. “I think I’ll go hail Florentine.” He said, as if Peyton was chopped liver and his greeting wasn’t worth smack.
Wow, things went much, much better than I’d expected.
“Hello, young man.” Mom nodded at him before following after her husband. I appreciated the attempt and saw it as a step in the right direction, at least on my mother’s part.
“’Kay,” Peyton sighed, “That went well.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic right now, but in truth, that went really well. My dad must have other things on his mind than lambasting you.”
Peyton grinned, “As long as you’re happy.”
“I am,” I said honestly, “You know what would make me happier?”
He looked at me, “What?”
“Another lemon meringue tart.”
He chuckled lightly, “I should have known.”