Spoiled Secrets

by Ebony N. Donahue

“Hey Keisha, I’ve merged you in with Emily.”

  “Hey chickadees! I figured you two were on the phone together.” Keisha huffs. “Emily, I hope you didn’t call Amber with your excessive worrying over this Jazz fella. Who even calls dibs on someone you haven’t met? For your sake, I hope he hasn’t been beaten with an ugly stick.”

  “You know what Keisha? I whole heartedly believe in that saying, two birds of a feather, flock together!”

  “Well, I have heard of the Ugly Duckling. You better hope that’s not what you end up with. Marinate on that, miss two birds of a feather, flock together.”

  “You idiot, the duckling turned out to be a beautiful swan. I believe that would mean, I would end up with the crem de la crem! So there, in yo face tramp!” We all laugh.

  “Whatever, enough about the mysterious Jazz. Hell, I’m tired of hearing about the dude. I was actually calling to see what you all are wearing tonight.” Keisha says.

  I look around my room in amazement at the mess I have made. My bed has at least twenty outfits piled on top of each other. The floor is covered in shoes and my dresser is strewn with jewelry. I expel a loud groan at the daunting task of picking out the perfect outfit.

  “Guys, I’m stumped! I don’t know what to wear.” I whine.

  “Thank GOD I don’t have that problem. Some might say, I’m conceited, but I call it confidence. I’m proud to say that due to my overabundance of confidence, I can wear a paper bag and still be the baddest bitch in the room.”

  “Emily, shut up! Geesh, everything isn’t about you!”

  “Yes….yes it is!” This was stated with all seriousness, no hint that she was joking in any way.

  “Are you serious right now?” Keisha states in a flabbergasted tone.

  “Yes, I am. Serious as a motherfucking heart attack.”

  “Whatever, you idiot! I don’t know how we remain friends with you.”

  “Come on girls, I need help here not bickering. I honestly don’t know what I’m wearing tonight. I was thinking a bandage dress. Then I thought about some low cut jeans and a midriff top to show off my stomach.” I groan out loud in frustration, not for the first time tonight.

  “My advice would be to dress comfortably. If I were you, I would wear the…” Keisha is rudely interrupted before completing her sentence.

  “Shut it up, Keisha! No one wants to hear your ghetto styling pointers. I’m telling you for the last time, no one wants the advice of a DaBrat wannabe! If you didn’t know by now, let me make it clear for you. We’re classy bitches! We’re not hood rich and sure the fuck not, hood chicks. Did you get that? You got it? Did you marinate on it? Digest it? Good! Now, I want you to regurgitate that tad bit of information whenever your hood mentality thinks of making an appearance in our conversations. And again…Get it….Got it….Good! Next order of business, please.”

  I can’t help it…I really can’t, the laughter spills from my lips. Emily has Keisha pegged. Her advice would be for me to wear my jeans that would show off my ass crack and my midriff top. Bless her soul, my girl dresses for comfort, in her hood chic gear.

  She’s got a banging body. I would kill to see her all dolled up in a dress and heels. Unlike Emily’s overabundance of confidence, that exudes conceitedness, Keisha’s confidence is much more subdued. She knows who she is and is very comfortable in her own skin. I don’t know why, but for some reason she NEVER shows off the goods.

  “Suck balls Emily!” Keisha yells in the phone. This makes me laugh harder.

  “Great advice, I might just do that tonight!” Keisha and I shriek in disgust.

  “Whatever! Anyway, from one bad bitch to another, you have to dress to impress tonight. His friends are coming into town! For fuck sake, give the man something to brag about!”

  I hate to admit it, Emily has a point. I want to be the show stopper when I walk in the room. My eyes land on the perfect dress. Now, this says something! It’s screaming from beneath its brethren on my bed begging to be picked.

  “Hey, I think I’ve found my statement piece!” I say excitedly on the phone.

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  “I’m wearing my beaded open Ponte BeBe dress with my knee length black and gold gladiator heels.”

  “Are you talking about the black one with the gold beading? I thought you were crazy to spend $160 on that dress! I have to admit, this is the right time and place for it. That dress is a fucking show stopper!” Keisha says.

  Emily exhales loudly. “Damn, that dress is fucking hot! Hell, now I have to rethink what I’m wearing tonight.” Emily quiets for a minute. “SHIT!” This was Emily’s frustrated outburst right before we heard her line disconnect.

  “Amber tell me again, why are we friends with her?” Keisha laughs.

  “Because we love her and wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves without her in our lives.”

  After more laughter and discussing where we would be meeting up, we disconnect the call.

  Chapter 20

  My plan is to knock him dead tonight. Standing here staring at my reflection in my full length mirror brings flutter of nervous wings to the surface. I’m decked out in this stunning Ponte knit dress, which is hugging every curve GOD has graced me with, like it were my second skin.

  It’s as if a magician has appeared to unveil his final act. Abracadabra! After the smoke has cleared a seductress appears. This new persona is what’s looking back at me. My breasts look delectable. The studded embellished bodice has these alluring cutout details. It gives the allusion that my breast could appear at any second. The clinging material of the dress brings about a difficult decision. Panty lines! Commando or thong? So many tuff decisions! Plunging Back! Should I go braless…adhesive…silicon strapless cups?

  I decided on the number two seductress special. My ensemble consists of a clingy dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, no bra, thong and smoky eyes. My hair has been flat ironed bone straight, to hang past my shoulders. This combined with my six inch black and gold gladiator sandals…I LOOK FUCKING HOT!

  I take a few seconds to make sure everything is in place before heading out to meet the gang. I have a feeling this will be a night to remember.

  ****

  As I descend the steps, I yell out for my mom. I need to make her aware of my departure.

  “Mom! I’m about to leave, I’ll be home later.” My hand has grasped the doorknob. My wrist has already started its final rotation which will spring the lock that will set me free for the night.

  “Wait, Amber! Hold on a second!”

  I hear her, but she hasn’t shown herself yet. Her tone is cheerful, but breathy. I can tell she’s moving fast and will descend upon me soon.

  “Hurry up mom, I have to meet the girls and I don’t want to be late.” She rounds the corner as the last word leaves my mouth.

  My mother stops mid-step, gasp and stand motionless gazing at me. What the hell is going on? Tears start to pool in her eyes as she stands there mutely staring at me.

  “Mom are you okay? What’s the matter?” I ask anxiously. I hurry to where she’s standing and hug her. “Mom what’s wrong?” I ask again and release her from my embrace. I take a few steps back so that I can look at her fully.

  “Nothing is wrong!” This was her wobbly chuckled response as tears start to cascade down her beautiful face.

  I must admit that the contradiction of her crying and laughing is a little disturbing. The confused look on my face sets her off. The laughter and tears continue at a more rapid pace.

  “Sweetheart, don’t look so disturbed. These are tears of joy. When I rounded the corner…you …you, shocked me. Seeing you standing here all grown up it just hit me, you’re no longer my little girl. You’ve morphed into a woman it seems overnight.” She takes in a shaky breath. “It’s bittersweet. I am so proud of the woman you have become and on the other hand, I’m angry at myself for allowing my job to consume me to the point that I have missed out on your journey into adulthood.”

 
; She takes her hands, palms flat, and slowly drags them across her face. That small gesture reminds me of a painter, an artist, clearing his muddled canvas, wiping it clean, starting anew…removing the mistakes…covering up the imperfections and leaving behind the most exquisite piece of art this world has ever seen.

  After her hands has cleared her imperfections…her tears…what’s left behind is pure joy, love, and happiness for me. Her smile is breathtaking. I am the moth and she is the flame. She draws me in and I am too starved of a mothers love to fight the pull. I wrap my arms around her in a tight embrace.

  “Mom, I love you!” I whisper reverently in her ear.

  “And, I you!” She leans back and braces my face between her palms. “Believe me when I say, everything I do is for you. The decisions I have made in my life have all been made with your welfare, your happiness in mind. You should know that you are my greatest accomplishment in life. Please, believe me when I say that…”

  “Mom…”

  “No, let me finish! If anything ever happens to you, I will wreck heaven and hell to serve my vengeance!” She starts crying again. “You are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, there is no stronger bond. Do you understand?” She pierces me with her watery gaze.

  “Yes!” This was my only response, due to shock taking over at her heart felt words. What is going on?

  “You can come to me with anything, Amber. Tell me anything. Do you hear me? No matter what it is, you can tell me. I just need you to talk to me. Just open up to me! I swear…I swear…just trust in me.” She whispers the last of her heartfelt declaration in my ear.

  I gulp in surprise. I believe she has finally gotten that something isn’t right, that something is amiss in our home. But, she doesn’t know what it is exactly…but…she’s close. My admission of guilt, of wrong doing, of incest, of my dirty despicable treachery, is that what she is after?

  Her gaze implores me to relent and speak the truth, to set all my secrets free, to release the latch on my darkening soul and repent and divulge my darkening deeds. GOD, I want to!

  I want to yell and scream and wipe my slate clean. I want to be sin free. But, with my admission will come heartache and pain. I’m afraid she will never look at me the same. With my admission, will come death and destruction because he has vowed to slain. Her blood will be on my hands, if I stand and yell…

  “He has FUCKED me for years! Where were you when I shed my many tears! Is this the admission you really want to hear?”

  Before the thought to speak up was given time to mature, my window of opportunity was snatched from my grasp.

  “Did I interrupt something?” His voice was devoid of emotion. My body stiffened in my mother’s embrace.

  Her eyes take in the most miniscule detail of me. She has a look of determination in her eyes that implores me to entrust her with my deeds. But, I can’t, not yet. She takes a deep breath in and releases me to stand on my own.

  “Honey, I just got a little emotional seeing our daughter. She’s grown up so fast.” She’s smiling as she says this to my father. “She’s not a little girl anymore. She has grown into a beautiful young lady, don’t you agree?”

  My mother grasps my hand as she asks her question. The thought of him looking at me to determine my worth, to judge my beauty, enrages me. I have learned long ago to hide my emotions, to school my face, so that nothing is given away. As I stand there enraged and fuming on the inside, my face portrays the perfect image of me. I smile bright, I give nothing away of the turmoil raging inside of me…but…the tiniest thing betrays me.

  I didn’t realize that I had balled my hand into a mighty fist, until my mother’s quick almost inaudible intake of air registers in my brain because I had caused her pain. I immediately decrease the pressure on her hand. I attempted to withdraw, but she surprised me. She clutches my hand and will not permit me to retreat.

  I drag my eyes from my father who seems to not have a clue of the interaction from mother to daughter. He is so consumed with his rising anger, which he has clearly not mastered. His face is a storybook for all ages. From young to old his hatred and loathing of this whole situation is told. I keep the mask of smiles plastered on my face as I turn to my fate.

  To my surprise my mother is not looking back at me. Is it my imagination, could she know? What’s going on? Her voice and smile are deceiving, they do not betray the fact that she’s onto his trail. Can’t he see that she knows that something is going on? Can’t he tell? He’s too consumed in his current crazed state of affair, to make out her calculating stare.

  “Doesn’t our baby girl look beautiful honey?” Mom says joyfully. Mom directs her next question to me. Her eyes remain on my dad. “Amber, your meeting the girls and Chase, right?”

  I remain silent. I dare not answer her question, not with the crazed look on my father’s face. Like her, I have not removed my eyes from the open book in front of me. Every emotion you can think of, has made an appearance on his expressive face. It won’t be long before…1…2…3.

  “Frankly, I can give two fucks about her fucking beauty! Who the hell cares about her face! All anyone is going to be looking at when she walks up is, TITS and ASS! Let’s not leave out her goddamned legs! She looks like a two dollar whore!”

  He starts to move forward as he yells his last sentence. I automatically go into fight or flight mode. Unconsciously, I have chosen flight. I try my damnedest to retreat, but mom halts me yet again. He comes to an abrupt stop when he’s standing in front of me.

  “As a father, I would have to insist that you head your ass upstairs right this minute and change out of that whore attire. You will not be leaving this house until you put on something a whole lot less revealing.” He’s mere inches from my face as he bites out his demand.

  As spittle lands on my face, he reminds me of a diseased rabid dog frothing at the mouth. I’m seconds away from bolting up the stairs…yet again…my mother halts my retreat. She smoothly inserts her whole body between the both of us. She places her palm on my father’s chest and pushes him back. I look at her this time and I know she can see the fear. But, she only smiles back at me.

  “Honey, leave her alone. Your intimidation tactics are getting old. Honestly, you act as if she’s a bone you refuse to let go of. Enough with the papa bear act, you have to let her go at some point. Hell, in a few short months she will be leaving for school.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? She’s not leaving anywhere for school. While you were too busy with your career to pay attention to the goings on around here, the decision was made. She will be staying here to attend college. END OF DESCUSSION!”

  I panic, “I’m not staying here! I did not make that decision! I’m moving so far from this house the first chance I get. I’m eighteen; I don’t need your approval for anything!” I yell at him.

  “Amber, sweetheart, look at me.” My mother says.

  I can’t look at her. Never take your eyes off of your enemy. Never – take – your – eyes - away. I keep repeating this throughout our stare down. The longer this goes on I can feel my courage dissipating. Just as I was about to look at my mom, he gives me a wicked smile. My breath hitches in my throat. He notices and the sick man that he is, he starts to laugh as he turns without further words of disapproval and walks away.

  “Amber, leave! Go! Have fun with your friends tonight. Leave this craziness behind. I don’t want this to ruin your night, okay? Despite what your father says, you look beautiful tonight, sweetie.”

  Mom gives me a hug and pushes me towards the door. I take this as my chance to escape this madhouse. I know my father well... better than well. That wicked grin spells trouble and his type of trouble has my name written all over it.

  When I get settled in my car, I look up at the house. He’s standing in his bedroom window smiling down at me. As apprehension slithers throughout my body, I mutter a quick prayer of strength to GOD.

  “I know that you have a great plan for my life, Lord. Sometimes your path
is unclear, but I trust in you. Please keep directing my steps, and keep me on the right path. Even though I may not always understand how, I know my situation is not a surprise to you. I pray that you will work out every detail to my advantage. I pray that while you’re working out the details, you send a little strength my way. I understand that you will work on your own timeline, not mine. I pray that your timing is perfect and that everything will turn out right. I’m putting my fate in your hands, Lord. Amen”

  Chapter 21

  As I pull into the lot of, Club Envy, my phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you at?”

  “I’m parking, where are you?”

  “Flash your lights.” I proceed to do what I have been told to do, by no other than Emily.