My Mama's Drama

by La Jill Hunt

“Well, you do owe me dessert.” I shrugged.

  “Uh, I think you’re the one who owes me dessert,” he said, kissing me again.

  “How?”

  “You forfeited the race,” he replied.

  “You better hope the ice cream machine is working at McDonald’s.” I laughed.

  After finally finding a McDonald’s with a working ice cream machine and indulging in hot fudge sundaes, Bilal took me home. I was glad that we had gotten past Fee and the incident and continued to enjoy our evening. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him.

  “I had a nice time—well, except for meeting your little friend Fee,” I said when he walked me to the door.

  “Uggghhh, we’re not gonna bring that up again,” he groaned, then said, “I had a nice time too.”

  “Thank you for dinner.”

  “Thank you for dessert.” He put his arms around my waist and kissed me again.

  My second kiss was even better than the first. This time when he pulled away, I put my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back to mine.

  When the kiss ended, he sighed. “Damn, Caramel, you’re dangerous.”

  I was about to respond when the flicker of headlights coming down the street caught my attention. I would notice the uneven lights anywhere.

  “Well, I gotta get inside,” I quickly said.

  “Okay, I’ll give you a call later.” He leaned in to kiss me again, but I turned around and fumbled with the doorknob.

  “Sounds great,” I told him. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” he said.

  I rushed in and prayed he had made it back to his truck before the car made it down the street. I peeked out the window and saw him opening his door just as my mother pulled up. My heart began racing, and I silently prayed that he would quickly drive off before she got out of the car. God must’ve been listening, because he did.

  I went straight into my bedroom, and as soon as I sat on the side of my bed, Avery and Ashley were tapping on my door, which was open.

  “Why aren’t y’all in the bed?” I asked them.

  “Did you have fun? Was he nice? Where did y’all go?” They fired off the questions so fast that I couldn’t tell who asked what.

  “Go to bed. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” I told them.

  “Celia! Come move your damn car out of my driveway!” my mother yelled.

  I looked up at my sisters, who looked just as worried as I felt. Since she had been working all weekend, she didn’t know about the car. I had hoped that Aunt Celia would call and tell her, but clearly, she hadn’t.

  “Go to bed, now!” I whispered to the twins, and they didn’t waste any time following my instructions.

  “Celia!” my mom yelled again.

  I hurried into the living room where she was standing, and said, “Hey, Mama.”

  “Hey, who the hell was that leaving my damn house? And where the hell is Celia? Tell her to come move out of my fucking driveway. She don’t live here, so I don’t know why she even parked there.”

  “That was my friend, and Aunt Celia ain’t here. How was work?” I asked innocently.

  “What friend? And what the fuck you mean she ain’t here? Her car is here.” She glared at me.

  “My friend Bilal, and she, uh, well, that’s—”

  “Why the fuck is her car here and she ain’t, Kendra?”

  “Mama, she gave me the car. She got her new car the other day.”

  “Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t have that fucking car? What the fuck do you mean?” She took a step toward me, and I took a step back.

  “It’s just for me to drive to school and work, that’s all, Mama,” I said.

  “I don’t believe this shit. My car is falling a-fucking-part while I go back and forth to work to keep a roof over your head and food on the table, and you think you’re getting ready to live here rent free and drive a fucking new Volvo?” she shrieked.

  “Mama, it’s not new.” I tried to calm her down. I didn’t dare remind her that she got food stamps monthly that we bought food with—when she wasn’t selling them to her clients.

  “Bitch, that car is only four years old. Don’t get smart with me. I will whoop your ass.”

  “I’m not trying to get smart, Mama. I’m just saying, the car is for our family. Avery can stay back for cheerleading now because I can pick her up. You know she’s been wanting to cheer forever.” I thought that throwing my sister’s wishes in would help my attempt to reason with her.

  “Fine, since it’s for our family, give me the keys.” She held her hand out.

  I froze. The one condition that Aunt Celia set when she turned the keys over to me was that I was not to allow my mother to drive the car. I couldn’t give her the keys.

  “I can take you to work in the morning, Mama.”

  “I don’t need you to take me no-damn-where. Give me the keys.” She was within striking range now, and I braced myself.

  “No, Mama. I’m not giving you the keys,” I told her.

  Sure enough, she grabbed me by the collar, and I pushed her away with so much force that she stumbled. Surprised by my actions, she became even more angry and went to hit me again, but I grabbed her arm and pushed her again. This time, she didn’t fall. She charged at me, knocking me backward, and I pulled her down with me. In a flash, we were in a full-out tussle and rolling on the floor.

  “Mama!” Avery yelled and ran to separate us.

  “Kendra!” Ashley was right behind her.

  I maneuvered away from my mother and jumped up, panting. My face was wet with both sweat and tears. It was the first time I had ever gotten into a physical altercation with her, and my emotions were all over the place. Avery helped my mother get to her feet, while Ashley held onto my arms.

  “You either give me that key or you get the fuck out of my house,” she demanded.

  “I’m not giving you the key,” I told her, shaking my head.

  “Fine. I hope you like living in your new car. Get out.”

  “You can’t kick me out. If I leave, who’s gonna raise your kids? Not you, because the first call I’m making is to social services, and not only will you lose them, but you’ll also lose that check and that EBT you get and don’t spend on them,” I said.

  She stared at me, until finally, she said, “I don’t want that fucking car anyway. And I don’t know who you think you are, but just because you got a so-called friend and a new ride, your ass ain’t grown, and I will still fuck you up.”

  I looked over at my sisters and said, “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

  Diane

  At one point in time, my sister Celia was my best friend. We were only two years apart, and I could and would tell her everything. I trusted her more than anyone in the world. So, during my junior year of high school, when I fell in love with Randall Carter, the captain of the basketball team, she was the first person I told. I told her about him kissing me behind the gym after practice one day. I told her how he held my hand and sucked on my neck when we went to the movies for our first date. I told her about how he put his hand under my shirt and got mad when I stopped him from going any further. She was my shoulder to cry on when Randall broke up with me for a girl who was known to put out. Then, Celia tried to warn me when I started dating Champ to make Randall jealous and decided to lose my virginity to him and made sure Randall found out.

  “You what?” Celia screamed when I told her what I’d done.

  “I gave it up to Champ, and you know he got a big mouth, so he’s gonna tell someone. When Randall finds out, he’s gonna be begging for me to take him back.” I laughed.

  “Diane, that’s the dumbest thing I have ever heard. What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?” She stared at me like I was crazy.

  “Calm down, Celia. It was just sex. It wasn’t even that good. Hell, Champ was a virgin too, and I think that’s why he ain’t know what he was doing. I know it’s gonna be even better with Randall, though, because I love him, an
d he loves me,” I explained.

  In my sixteen-year-old mind, I had everything figured out. Sure enough, after dating Champ for a couple of months, Randall asked me out again. Everything was going exactly as planned, until I ended up ironically at Planned Parenthood, where they confirmed that I was pregnant.

  “Di, what are you gonna do?” Celia asked when I came to her with my latest announcement.

  “I’m gonna get rid of it. What do you think I’m gonna do?” I said as if nothing else was an option.

  “You’re gonna have an abortion?” she said, her face full of shock. “How?”

  “You know, Cele, sometimes I feel like I’m the older sister and you’re the baby. What do you mean, how?”

  “Where are you gonna get the money? Isn’t it like three hundred dollars?”

  “It’s two fifty,” I said.

  “What did Champ say?”

  “About what?”

  “About your English project, Di,” she said sarcastically. “About your being pregnant, fool! What do you think?” Celia snapped.

  “He didn’t say anything because he doesn’t know. I’m not gonna tell him. The only person who I’m telling is you, and Cele, you’d better not tell anyone,” I warned her. I wasn’t worried about my sister telling anyone at school, but whereas I had been a Daddy’s girl, Celia clung to my mother like she was a saint. They had a tight bond.

  “Diane, this is crazy. First of all, you don’t have the money, and you don’t have a job, so there’s no way for you to get it. Second, I just think this is an overall bad idea.”

  “You have money, Cele,” I said.

  “What?” Celia frowned.

  “You have money. You can give it to me.”

  Celia had been working and saving money for college for the past two years. I knew she had a nice sum that she could tap into and help me.

  “That’s money for school, Di. You know how hard I’ve been working, and I don’t have nearly enough for my tuition,” she said.

  “Celia, you know you’re gonna get a scholarship anyway. I don’t know why you’re stressing. This is way more important, and I promise I’m gonna pay you back,” I said, grabbing her arm.

  “Pay me back how? You don’t have a job.” Celia shook her head.

  “Celia, please. You’re the only person that can help me,” I pleaded.

  “Diane, this is crazy, and this is something I don’t think I can help you with. You really need to talk to—”

  “Dammitt, Cele, will you please listen? I don’t need to talk to anyone else. I’m talking to you. Now, all I need is for you to loan me the money, so I can go and get this taken care of. Shit, it’s not that big of a deal.” I stood up and began pacing the floor of the bedroom that we shared. I was starting to think going to her might not have been the best idea, but I really didn’t have anyone else.

  Celia took a deep breath and paused for a moment, just looking at me. Finally, she said, “When are you supposed to go get it done?”

  “Thursday at three fifteen,” I said.

  “Are you sure you even want to, you know, do this?” Her voice was shaking, and you would’ve thought she was the one needing the abortion, not me.

  I walked back and sat next to her on the bed. “Hell yeah, I’m sure, Cele. Why would I not want to do this? I’m seventeen, for Christ’s sake. What do you want, for me to end up like Mama?” I frowned. My mother was seventeen and my father eighteen when she got pregnant with Celia, which was why they got married. Daddy worked wherever he could, until he died from Leukemia when I was thirteen.

  “Mama is a good woman. What’s that supposed to mean?” Celia asked defensively.

  “It means I don’t want to be forced to spend the rest of my life paying bills, which is all a baby is. Once she got knocked up, their lives stopped. That ain’t gonna be me. I want to be free to live my life, and I can’t do that with no baby. So, I’m getting rid of it. Well, if you give me the money,” I said.

  “But what about Champ? It’s his baby too,” Celia said. “He should have some say-so.”

  “It’s not even a baby yet. It’s more like a lima bean. I get it; you don’t believe in abortion. But, trust me, Cele, this is for the best. Please just give me the money.”

  “Di, you know Mama puts my savings into her account so I can’t touch it.” She shook her head at me. “I don’t have two hundred and fifty dollars to give you, really.”

  “How much do you have?” I asked her, desperate to take whatever I could get. “I know you have money in your sock drawer.”

  “How do you—”

  “How much, Cele?” I sighed.

  “About eighty dollars. And that’s not enough to—”

  “I’ll take it,” I told her.

  She stood up and walked over to her dresser, taking out a small, beaded coin purse and handing it to me. “Here. I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t agree with this at all.”

  “I know you don’t, Cele, but thank you. I appreciate it. I really do,” I told her as I jumped up and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Celia. You’re the best sister ever. I promise I’m never gonna get knocked up again. I’m gonna make sure when Randall and I get busy, not only am I gonna be on the pill, but he’s gonna wrap it up.”

  “What about the rest of the money?” she asked.

  “I’ll figure it out. But believe me, I’m gonna get it,” I assured her.

  Two days later, I was sitting in the waiting room of Planned Parenthood when the glass door opened and I heard my mother screaming my name.

  “Diane Celeste Hughes, have you lost your damn mind?”

  “Mama, I—”

  “Get your ass up right now and let’s go,” she demanded.

  “But, Mama, I—they’re about to . . . I have an appointment,” I told her. My heart was beating so hard and fast that I could feel it in my neck. She was the last person I had expected to see.

  “You don’t have to do nothing but what I tell you to do,” Mama said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me up.

  “You’re hurting me, Mama,” I said. Other people in the waiting room were staring at us.

  The receptionist stood up from the desk. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to—”

  “Lady, this ain’t got nothing to do with you. This is my daughter, and she’s leaving!” she yelled so loud at the poor woman that she instantly sat back down.

  “There are no refunds,” the lady said to me.

  I closed my eyes and told myself that I was in the middle of having a bad dream and when I opened them, it would all be over. There was no way in hell that this was real life. It couldn’t be. I shook my head in an effort to wake myself from the nightmare. Sadly, I was still standing in the middle of the waiting area, being yanked out of the front door by my mother, who was cursing in between quoting Scripture.

  I reluctantly got into the car, and she screamed at me all the way home. When we arrived, I walked in the front door, and there was Celia, sitting on the sofa, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her eyes met mine, and instantly I knew how my mother had found out where I was and what I was doing.

  “Diane.” She hopped up and went to hug me, but I pushed her away.

  “Leave me alone,” I growled. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

  “You took the money from the can, Di,” Celia said, referring to the coffee can my mother kept on the top shelf over the stove. I had taken the rest of the money I needed that morning. “She went crazy.”

  “And you had to tell her why, huh? Don’t ever speak to me again. I mean it. I hate you,” I told her.

  Celia had betrayed me in the worst possible way, and from that moment on, the relationship I had with my sister was never the same. Throughout my dreaded pregnancy, I barely said two words to her. After Kendra was born, I allowed her to care for her, but I still hated her for what she had done. Celia eventually accepted the fact that our relationship was forever broken, and the love she once had for me, she now poured into
my daughter, and the two of them shared a close bond. Celia doted on Kendra, and at times, it felt like a slap in my face.

  * * *

  “I don’t know why you’re so mad. You should be happy that she has a damn car,” Ronda said, passing me the joint we were smoking. “That’s gonna make shit easier for you.”

  “I’m mad because she acts like she calls all the damn shots. I’m Kendra’s mother, not her. She ain’t better than me, that’s for sure,” I told her, taking a drag. “I wish she would quit acting like it.”

  “Calm down. Hell, you need to be keeping a low profile, considering the fact that you’re screwing her husband.” Ronda laughed.

  “Shit, I ain’t even been doing that lately. He won’t even take my damn calls. Lord knows I miss that dick, too.” I took another drag and blew the smoke out of my mouth and into my nostrils before passing it back to her.

  “You losing your touch?” Ronda laughed.

  “Never that. I just had to put up with that nigga Ricky while he fixed my car, but now that it’s done, I’m ’bout to be back on my game. You know how I do.”

  “You live a dangerous life, that’s for sure.”

  “Nah, I just live life.”

  It was my day off, and as usual, I was spending it at Ronda’s house, where there was plenty of weed and liquor and I could relax. Tension at my own house was thick, and Kendra and I still weren’t speaking. She would go her way, and I would go mine.

  My cell rang, and I looked at it. It was my job. I immediately sent it to voicemail. I knew they were calling for me to work overtime, and as much as I could use the extra cash, I wasn’t about to work for it. My phone rang again. This time it was Ricky, and I sent him to voicemail as well. I tried calling Darnell again, but he didn’t answer. It was around the time he normally went to lunch, so I decided to pay him a little visit.

  Sure enough, by the time I parked my car in the parking lot at his job, he came walking out of the building. I beeped my horn, and when he looked up, I got out of the car and waved. He stared and kept walking until I yelled his name, not caring about the other folks walking nearby who were now staring at me. He didn’t waste any time coming over to where I was.