by Tiana Laveen
“We love you too, Dad.” She stopped there, but wished to say so much more. She wouldn’t do it, though, for she now looked at a man whose eyes had grown glossy. She rarely saw her father expressing emotion like this—actually never had. She wanted to focus on this moment when he was allowing himself some vulnerability; but little did he know, he seemed even larger and more amazing in her eyes now.
He’d jump on Joel from time to time about such displays, but always gave her room to feel deeply. Dad had to be a bit chauvinistic, but it seemed his attitude veered always in the woman’s favor. She smiled at that realization, and felt it easy in her heart to forgive him.
“It feels different in here, Dad. I guess that exorcism worked, huh?” Joel sat back comfortably, a smug expression on his face.
“It wasn’t an exorcism.”
“What? Exorcism?!” Michelle looked at the two guys and suddenly wanted to strangle them both. “What in the heck have you two been doing? Why do I feel so confused right now? This entire visit has been nothing but secrets coming to light and Joel, you know better!” She pointed an accusatory finger in her brother’s direction. They were a year and a half a part, close as could be. “We tell each other everything!”
“I had to keep this to myself. I wanted to convince Dad to move from here and didn’t want you interfering, siding with him the way you always do.” He rolled his eyes with dramatic flair.
“Oh really? You always side with Mom, no matter what she does or says and I—”
“Okay, okay, okay,” their father broke in, his hand up like a stop sign. “Look, Michelle, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but if I myself wasn’t even sure what was going on, I didn’t see a need to broadcast it to the entire world.”
“I’m not the entire world. I’m your daughter… This place is haunted?” She looked about the room, a sensation of being watched suddenly hitting her. Perhaps it was paranoia, the notion they’d just brought up drifting about in her head, contaminating her mind.
“How did you not know this though, Michelle? It’s been online.”
“I don’t go looking at gossip rags about Dad, Joel,” she snapped. “Matter of fact, I avoid them and my friends know not to come to me asking anything. I’ve made that perfectly clear. For all others, I don’t tell them who my father is, or the nosey questions start. So, what’s going on?”
“Joel doesn’t even know this part; I am telling you together but… I’m writing a book about this house.”
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head, mystified.
“The house is in fact haunted, Michelle. Joel knew it immediately, and I suppose I did, too. I just refused to give it any validation. Long story short, a guy by the name of Peter Jones owned it and he died in a rather bizarre and mysterious way. He was a writer, just like me.”
“Dad had a paranormal group come in, Michelle. I asked him to do that from the beginning, once he made it clear he wasn’t going to move.”
“What did they find out?”
“That Peter’s ghost still is here and he is unsettled,” Dad explained. “He has some unresolved issues. The property would go up for sale time and again because of the paranormal activity. When I moved here, there was activity as well, but it was not the kind that had been demonstrated towards the people who resided here before me. Rather than be, shall I say, provocative or even violent with me, as he had been with others, he appeared more demonstrative, as if we had a kinship. I was quite disturbed by the activity, don’t get me wrong. Matter of fact, it made life quite difficult, but I never felt in danger, if that makes any sense.”
Michelle nodded in understanding.
“A medium who—from what I’ve been told—is world renowned came to the house and investigated the situation over the course of a couple of days. He let me know that Peter had seen similarities between himself and me, and that he took a liking to a friend of mine, which caused a whole new dynamic.”
“A friend of yours?” Her upper lip twitched, daring to form a grin.
“Yeah… that’s the other reason why I wanted you two to come up. I’ve been seeing someone.”
“A woman?” Joel questioned, his face twisted in faux surprise, he seemed to be pretending the man hadn’t already spilled the beans to him. She always knew when her brother was lying.
“No, a damn yak. Of course uh woman!” Dad barked.
Michelle snickered.
“Well, how tha hell should I know?!” Joel teased. “You’re makin’ all these changes in your life. I don’t know what to expect from you anymore.”
“Yeah? Well, let me tell ya, me likin’ cat won’t ever change.”
“Dad!” Michelle was certain she’d turned a million shades of red as her brother and father burst out laughing. “And you can cut the song and dance, Dad and Joel. It’s obvious you two were keeping yet another secret from me.” She quipped, having quite enough of their games in order to make her feel less offended.
“I’m sorry,” Dad apologized, still smiling. “But yeah, I met a lady and we’ve been seeing each other for quite some time now. Her name is Emerald. She lives here in Maxim. She’s a dental nurse and furniture restorer.”
“Wow, how’d you meet her?” Michelle leaned forward, tickled as hell to hear the revelation.
“At Whole Foods, the grocery store, of all places.”
“You know this reads like a romance novel, right?” she jested, slapping her knee. A wave of laughter rolled off her. “Oh my God, so when can we meet her?”
“Yeah,” Joel chimed in, though his tone was tinged with a bit of suspicion or perhaps his furrowed brows gave him away. This time, his declarations appeared sincere.
“Glad you asked. I’m hoping you can come back up next weekend, actually. Her daughter is in town for only a short time, she’s in the army, so I don’t want to disrupt any of that but she heads to California for a month after that, and then to Afghanistan.”
“So she has children, too. Good, you two have more in common.”
“Yeah, she’s got just the one, but we do in fact have a lot in common.” He reached toward the coffee table for his phone and scrolled through it, then flashed a photo in their direction. “That’s her… that’s my sweetheart.”
Michelle couldn’t help but love the broad, toothy smile that spread across her father’s face as he showcased the attractive woman.
“Awww, Dad, she’s pretty. I’m so glad you met someone and things are going well.”
“I’m glad I met her, too. Honestly, she’s helped me appreciate what I have more, instead of focusing on what’s missing. She’s a real good person, and so funny, too.”
“That’s good, Dad.” Joel seemed a tad more relaxed, but the tension lingered, still emanating from him.
She tucked her concerns away, certain to get her brother alone later and pick his brain.
“All right! What’s to eat around here?” Joel slapped his thighs, then looked at his watch. “It’s almost dinner time.”
“Well, I thought we’d go out to eat, actually. There are some nice eateries not too far away, a BBQ place that I particularly enjoy.”
“Dad, you know I don’t eat meat.” Michelle grimaced as she got to her feet.
“Well, there are other places we can go to. That was just a suggestion. There’s a great vegetarian restaurant only fifteen minutes away. We could swing by if you want.” He slid his phone into his pocket and got to his feet. “Are you guys coming by next weekend or not?”
“I am.” Michelle picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
“I guess I can,” Joel said, looking down at his cell phone, semi-distracted.
“All right, good, it’s a date. The four of us will go out then. I’ll get my jacket and we can be on our way.” Dad walked out of the room, his steps hard and pounding like some titan’s. After a couple of moments, she turned to her brother, pulled at his eggplant sweater sleeve, and nudged him towards her.
“What gives?”
“Huh?” He kept his eye on his phone, his thumb working overtime scrolling through social media posts—some site she’d never seen before. Perhaps one of his strange gaming groups…
“Don’t huh me, you know what I’m talking about.”
He gave her a fleeting look. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t lie. Why are you worried about Dad’s girlfriend?”
“Honestly? I don’t want him to get hurt is all. Dad is kinda vulnerable right know, ya know? I don’t want him taken advantage of. Not sayin’ this woman is necessarily doing that, but you know this is his first actual relationship he’s had since he and Mom divorced. He may not have realistic expectations, and everyone knows who he is now. He has more to lose.”
Michelle nodded in understanding. “You’re right. All that could be true, Joel, but you know one thing about our father that will never change?”
“What?”
“He’s a pretty good judge of character, so I trust him on this. They’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and if this woman has helped an old dog learn new tricks, like apologizing and showing his true feelings to us, then for that alone, I’m grateful to her.”
“Yeah…” He nodded, as if mulling her words and deciding to be at peace with them.
She took a few steps towards the foyer, her brother trailing behind.
“Tell me something,”
She heard him snickering and looked over her shoulder. “What?” she asked.
“Were you surprised that Dad’s girlfriend is Black? I was, but not in a bad way.”
“I never even thought about it. I mean…” She shrugged. “Obviously, I noticed she was Black,” she said with a smirk and a roll of her eyes. “But I didn’t put any thought into it. You dated Yanni for two years. I guess you got it honestly.” She playfully winked at her brother as she brought up his African American girlfriend from a few years back.
“Yeah.” He laughed, a light, tinkling sound. “All of that aside, he seems happy, doesn’t he?”
“He is happy, Joel, so that makes me happy, too…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Maxim Hospitality
I’ve known Ma my entire life…
That notion sounded rather silly to Nikki. She rolled it around in her brain, again and again. Of course, she’d known her mother her entire life; but, on second thought, maybe it wasn’t so silly after all. Mom hadn’t known her own mother that long; matter of fact, the bulk of Mom’s time spent on Earth had large, gaping holes when it came to parent-child interaction. Due to this, her mother must have just winged it, this thing called motherhood, and at times, that wing appeared broken…
But perhaps that wasn’t fair. As Aunt Sugar used to say, “Nobody understands the trials, tribulations, heartache and pain a parent goes through until they have their own.” She and Mya planned to have children; they even had a donor in mind, and maybe then she’d have a full grasp of just how difficult it could be to raise another human being.
She hated resenting Mom, especially because she couldn’t say Emerald had been a bad mother; in fact, she’d been good on the whole. When did the animosity begin? And why? Why didn’t it stop? She thought she knew the answers to those questions, but the more she contemplated them, the less certain she became. Was it because Mom was very affectionate, but not necessarily warm? Nikki had grown up watching a couple of people—her parents—who behaved more like roommates than lovers. Mom and Dad had the strangest relationship she’d ever seen. That was all in the past, though.
But a more crucial question was now on the table: Who was this woman sitting here?
Yeah, her… The lady with the perfectly coiffed hair, scooping out generous spoonfuls of jambalaya into big wooden bowls she’d picked up from some estate sale. The woman who was laughing so loud, it made her ears ring…
Who. Was. She?
Nikki hoped and prayed her confusion didn’t become apparent as she studied the woman, real close, as if looking for something important she’d lost. Mom was aging.
Her hair, still thick as always, had more gray in it than she last recalled. Mom kept on cooking, talking, laughing, and her smiles seemed one hundred percent authentic. Mom’s body language was fluid, easy and relaxed. She was now enthralling Mya with a silly tale involving Aunt Sugar, a flea market, and a city slicker trying to sell cheap perfume that was nothing but rubbing alcohol and food coloring. Nikki shook her head in amazement. Twirling a straw in her mouth, comfortable in her seat, she fell into some strange, hazy daydream at witnessing the scene that played out before her.
Mom had the place looking so nice, like a real fancy bed and breakfast, but she’d always been rather tidy and truth be told, mom laughed a lot way back then, too. She couldn’t take that away from her, try to color her as some Grinch…
But this laugh sounded different… unrestricted, not tightly coiled around reserve and appearances.
The spontaneity and artlessness gave her pause; even the woman’s eyes sparkled as if lit up on the inside with snow-white bulbs. Nikki rubbed along her gut as if warding off a fitful tummy ache that would ruin her good time before it even began. Anxiety, guilt, and regret nestled in her core. Lowering her gaze off Mom and Mya, she tossed her straw on the table and took a somewhat shaky sip of her red wine.
Damn, this is good… Mom never bought stuff like this before. This ain’t that cheap five dollar wine with a brand ain’t nobody has ever heard of. I’ll have to ask her the name of it.
Her lips curved in a smile as she appreciated the flavor repeating along her taste buds. Maybe that was the answer to her jumbled emotions. She wanted to get rid of this stale emotional stew, start from scratch. Here she was, embarking on a new chapter of her life, and she wanted to turn a fresh page with Mom, but would Mom hold grudges, too? She’d not been the easiest child to raise, and it was time to face the truth. Sometimes she made her own struggles her mother’s, placing the blame on the person closest to her in the room. Not only that, at one point in time she realized the arguments and strain had stemmed from her perception that she and her mother were like night and day.
Mom played by the rules, even at times with people who didn’t deserve such considerations—probably replaying old advice she’d learned as a child about ‘turning the other cheek.’ But what about an eye for an eye? Mom was a rather strict disciplinarian. When Nikki’s rebellious self had broken any household rules, there was hell to pay. This seemed rather unfair, especially because oftentimes, these rules had gone against her desires to leave an imprint upon the world, and in order to create change, well, one had to be the change. Nikki wanted to shake things up. Once she left and joined the army, though, all of that thinking changed. She snapped into submission for she had no other choice. Luckily, her mother had already prepared her to play the game well.
Whoever she wished to be, her dreams for herself, she’d relegated behind a barbed wire fence, and in order to reach those goals, she had to listen to authority, do as she was told and listen more than she could talk. She’d learned a lot during basic training, and continued to do so; but, for the longest, her communication with Mom remained the same. She’d become like her mother in more ways than she’d cared to admit, and she admired the woman, too.
Mom, I do look up to you, and I know sometimes I was wrong. You just handle things differently than me is all. I can see your strength in your smile lines, the scars that have faded, and the bumps and bruises you withstood just so I could have a bit more in life… I’m sorry about some of the shit I’ve said to you over the years. I have to open my mouth and tell you this though…not just keep it in my head. I hope I find the courage to admit I was wrong. I hate that about myself, ’cause I hate not being right.
She sat there, sip after sip, contemplating what she’d say when she found her voice again and built up the courage to say what she should have said a long time ago…
‘Mama, I know things haven’t always been easy for you. I appreciate you and I love you.’
She’d say the ‘I love you’ part easily enough, but the other words didn’t seem to want to come out of her mouth. It wasn’t just her pride at work though. They had to hash it out, get to the bottom of it all. But perhaps she still resented how, when she told her mother she was gay, the woman had looked downright disappointed; as a matter of fact, depressed. She’d started crying and telling her that she loved her, as if Nikki had just admitted to being a drug addict or prostitute.
At the time, Mama’s reaction didn’t make any damn sense. The woman had never said an unkind word to her about the LGBT community, but she’d grown up with Southern parents, particularly a father who had traditional values, who’d served as a deacon at his church and was viewed as a pillar of society.
And then there was Aunt Sugar, notably uncouth and with no concern whatsoever for other people’s feelings. She’d made it quite clear what she thought of the world in her heavy, judgmental way. Nikki couldn’t recall the last time that old woman had a kind word to share. And why did Mom keep up with her so? It was usually a chore, a cause of immense frustration, yet Mom would insist Sugar came from a different generation, that she wasn’t all that bad all the time, and that she loved them, despite everything.
Mya suddenly burst out laughing again, grabbing Nikki from her inner turmoil and snatching away the demons and angels that drifted around her memories, poking and prodding them as ‘exhibit A’. Mya’s eyes gleamed with tears of joy and amusement as Mom kept on dishing out the stories from her unconventional upbringing and youth. These funny tales she’d heard a million times over the years, but they were part of Mom’s wrinkled fabric of life, so she didn’t mind rolling herself up in those pleasant recollections for a while.
“And then my father said, ‘That ain’t what I said. The pig’s name is Joyce, and you better call ’er that or she’ll take a shit in your shoes!’”
At that, Mya got going again, and in a way, Nikki soon realized it made her look like a fool. Truth of the matter was, Nikki had not spoken to her fiancée too favorably of her mother. She’d told the woman she loved of their constant butting heads, of Mom’s need for them to agree on everything, how their beliefs weren’t the same and Mom’s constant worrying about her, treating her like the forever child. Her laundry list of complaints was endless… She’d told Mya how she resented the fact her mother hadn’t truly loved her father—but that wasn’t fair, to lay the blame solely at her mother’s feet because that feeling had been mutual. They just kinda liked each other, had nothing better else to do, and got married at a young age to escape whatever it was they refused to face.