Cosmopolitan Girls

by Charlotte Burley

  “Indeed it is!” I was reminded of the discussion I tuned into after returning home from dinner. Tavis Smiley was moderating a panel discussion on TV about the state of black America. “Did you watch CNN last night?” Charlie was so overcome with enthusiasm she almost dropped her drink.

  “Did I! I was hoping I wasn’t the only one.”

  “Honey, thinking about dinner and listening to what all the politicians had to say made me dig deeper. But what’s up with the state of black women in general?”

  “Lindsay, we have so much potential, but not many of us have it all like you. Your boss might be crazy, but he’s looking out for you.”

  “But I still have to fight. He isn’t trying to give a woman his job.”

  “You got a point!” Charlie nodded in agreement. “For the most part, I think we just get frustrated. I know I do. We have to fight for so much that we get confused and start fighting each other. Essence did a big cover story on the same kind of thing. Black women and white women in the workplace.”

  “I know I read that!” I commented.

  “It’s funny, it made me open my eyes and rethink my entire view on Miranda and blond ambition. I’m sure they probably never grew up, went to school, or worked around anybody but white people. They honestly don’t think we’re qualified for the big executive jobs,” Charlie said, getting excited.

  “Well, you can’t fix that without reversing four hundred years of oppression in our society,” I sarcastically noted.

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to do my best to make what we have to offer known. I’m going to stay on their asses to create more opportunities for other black women. Lindsay, history only repeats itself if you don’t work for change.”

  “Absolutely, but you know ‘we’ black women can be hard on each other. So it’s about rising above the negativity. I’m really going to go for it on my new show with Alix and push for black women to be hired behind the scenes too. And as far as Alix goes, I’m going to make sure her character continues to represent all sistas of the twenty-first century. God willing, I’m one black woman who is gonna open up some doors!”

  “I’ve gotta represent in my scripts too. I want my female characters to be vulnerable and strong.”

  We were speaking truth on a meaningful subject.

  “When it’s all said and done, I think it’s just that I’ve graduated. I can’t do things the same way anymore. I don’t want to be forty and talking about who’s hot and who’s not, waiting on Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet and take me shopping.” I paused. “I know with Tara and Judy, there will always be a closeness between us, but they’ve got to understand that for me a lot of that b.s. we do is played out. I love them, but I can’t keep sitting with yesterday.”

  “Maybe you’ve just moved in separate directions, or maybe somebody ain’t moved nowhere,” Charlie said, leaning back and taking a moment to do her own soul searching. “Girlfriend, you got me thinking now. I shut myself off too much to other sistas.”

  “Charlie, I agree. It wasn’t so healthy how in the past you always hung by yourself, with Michael, or just with your gay friend, not that anything’s wrong with that. But you’ve allowed yourself to be too narrow.”

  “I feel you. I want to broaden my vision too, Miss Lindsay.”

  We laughed.

  “No, seriously we have to be more connected to each other.” Charlie smiled and handed me a soda.

  “It’s about our making alliances with other women, and not just black, but white, Asian, Spanish, and Native American too. So you just make sure when that script of yours is finished, I get the first copy. I’ve got a girlfriend at Universal,” I said.

  “Make it happen, Lindsay!”

  “Girlfriend has the juice to green-light projects too!” We entertained ourselves for the rest of our lunch, plotting to make our own “girls’ club,” politics for the entire hour. Our friendship hit a new high.

  “Charlie, we always chitchat, but today was like an archeological excavation of the mind,” I said, finishing off my lunch.

  “That’s right, and our finds are the precious artifacts of knowledge, wisdom, and girl power!” Charlie smiled.

  We exited the sanctuary of the park feeling as if we could save the world. We imagined all women, all sisters of color coming together, each feeling comfortable being who she was, instead of killing one another’s spirits. After all, as a wise man once said, Never underestimate the power of a woman.

  Chapter 39

  Coffee . . . Ahh, the Aroma

  Rule Number 8: Throw that mental mess out with

  the rest of the garbage and start fresh!

  I was packing up the last of my belongings, including my finished script. That’s right, I finally finished it. After I returned from my engagement party in Buffalo, my writer’s block disappeared. I came back and was a writing machine. I think Granny’s magic words turned me around. Life is funny in another big way too. My friendship with Lindsay has helped me rediscover myself. But, out of all our wild and crazy missions, today was going to top them all. The “Old Charlie” was back in the game of life!

  Fixing Charlie was the goal and, slowly but surely, I’m getting my act together. Loving God first and me second. I’m exercising three times a week—my body is definitely a temple—and I’m trying to write one to five pages a day on my next project: a science fiction screenplay. I will never put a man in front of my goals or happiness again.

  Today is the day I leave Michael for good. I can’t wait to see his face when he comes home tonight. It’s a shame, he’s been doing his thing with Natasha for so long, he’s just comfortable and dumb. As of tonight, I won’t be Brooklyn bound anymore. I’m peacing my mind on my new place and leaving the trouble behind in this sorry apartment where I’ve felt too much hurt.

  The telephone interrupted my thoughts.

  “Hello?” I said calmly.

  “Hello. Is Michael there?”

  It was Natasha. Was this perfect timing or what? Her voice made me laugh for some odd reason. Maybe it was that I finally had a better secret than she did.

  “Natasha, Michael isn’t here. I thought he was with you.” She hadn’t seen the side of Charlie I was about to give her. I was about to be bad and didn’t care.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would he be with me? Look, we’re just friends,” she said.

  “Oh, friends? I thought you all were business partners,” I quizzed.

  “Um, yes, that’s what I meant, you see—”

  “Natasha, shut up!” I cut right into her. “I know all about you and Michael. I also know your type. You’re an old, sad, pitiful excuse for a woman, who preys on other women’s men. One day you’ll meet your match. Michael may not be smart enough to understand, but I damn sure am.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you, we are just friends.” She was starting to choke up.

  “First of all, bitch, don’t interrupt me!” I heard her gasp. “Oh, it doesn’t feel so good being called out of your name, does it?” Natasha was silent. “You’re so used to calling here, hanging up, playing games, but this time I’m gonna finish! You can have Michael, no hard feelings. The best woman won. Me! His sorry ass is all yours!”

  “I don’t want Michael,” she said with a shaky voice.

  “Honey, tell me something I already don’t know. Listen, I’ll be gone in an hour, call back then.”

  I slammed the phone down as hard as I could. I was tired of Natasha’s whiny, barely-speaking-English behind. I felt semi-victorious. Natasha wasn’t the only unpleasant intrusion in my life. I had one more loose end to tie.

  I picked up the phone, quickly punching in numbers. “Juanita speaking. Holla at me.” Baby Mama Drama herself picked up immediately.

  “Hello, Juanita, this is Charlie. I’ve never called before now because I didn’t have a reason to.” I took a deep breath and continued, “Even though your children spoke badly to me, I never threw salt on your name
.”

  “Ain’t this a trip?” Juanita said venomously.

  My nostrils flared. I didn’t want to get into a shouting match but what I had to say was important. I had no choice but to lower myself to Juanita’s level to make sure she understood. “I just wanted to give you a piece of advice. It’s not a good idea to put your kids in adult business and have them fight your battles.” My voice was tense.

  “How you gonna call me and tell me what I can and cannot do with my kids?” Juanita said. I just knew she was on the other end rolling her eyes and neck.

  “Clearly, somebody needs to tell you, you . . . ” Stupid! I bit my lip, holding in the tail end of my thoughts. I started again slowly, “Juanita, you don’t know me, or know what kind of woman I am. Do you realize the power I had with your kids?” I could tell that she was finally seeing where I was going. “Just think about all the stuff you’ve done to me. Think what I could have done to them, if I wanted to play the same dirty games you were playing. I could’ve been abusive, verbally or, even worse, physically abusive.”

  I could hear her exasperated breathing, but she was getting the message. “You dragged my name through the mud, and I could’ve done the same. There were so many times I could’ve made comparisons that I was prettier and smarter than you, I had a job but you were on welfare living in the projects, and that’s why their daddy chose me.” I went on and on spelling it out for Juanita. “To be quite honest, Juanita, I think I love your children more than you do. What other woman do you know would have taken all the mess you put me through, without some sort of retaliation? Are you still there?” I wanted to make sure she was still listening.

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, I’m still here.” Juanita cleared her throat. It was obvious that she was paying close attention.

  “I’m only telling you this because I’m leaving Michael. I really love MJ and Tiffany. I wanted to warn you. The next woman Michael gets with may not be a God-fearing woman like me.” I wasn’t sure, but based on the silence I think she was choked up. I knew she loved her kids, but somebody needed to show her that she’s been wrong and that she’s hurting her children’s future.

  “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Good luck.”

  “Charlie?” Juanita meekly said.

  “Yes?”

  “Um, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said as I hung up. That conversation with Juanita was a long time coming. I just hoped she would really remember what I passed on to her when the next woman in Michael’s life rolled in.

  I sat in the living room, scanning the empty apartment. Glad I settled up with Juanita and Natasha. This would all be a part of my past soon. But for some reason I still wasn’t completely satisfied. I couldn’t sit still. I had to move around the apartment. I couldn’t believe how long I’d been Michael’s fool.

  It took me a long time to smell the coffee. Michael brewed it strong and hot, but I didn’t want to have a cup of it, not even a sip! If this had been my mother instead of me, I would have judged her. Harshly.

  The awful truth had me admitting just how judgmental I was. I had been looking down on my mother for years, when no matter what, she’d been there for me, through all of my ordeals, giving advice that I felt she was unqualified to give. Not once did my mother make me feel stupid or bad for staying with Michael. She loved me and would support whatever decision I made. She’d given me unconditional love, and now I wasn’t so sure I deserved it.

  I ran back into the living room, unpacked the telephone and plugged it into the wall. It was late, but not too late for my night-owl mother. After two rings Mama picked up.

  “Hi, Mama. You know I love you. I tell you that every time I talk to you. But there’s something I’ve never said, and need to say now.” My voice quivered. So many emotions were surfacing.

  “Charlie, is everything okay?” Mama was worried.

  “Yes, everything is fine. I’m leaving Michael for good, but that’s not why I called. Ma, I love you with all my heart. And more importantly, I respect you. I want and need you to know this. It’s taken me a while to realize it. Also, it took some hard lessons in love and personal degradation to admit to myself that for years I’ve always looked down on you, and the choices you’ve made in life.” The shame I felt caused me to cry.

  “Baby, I know. I don’t want you to feel guilty. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I’m just sorry you had to witness most of them.” Mama started to cry too.

  “But Ma, we all make mistakes. When I do, you never judge me. Please, forgive me?” I said, trying to wipe my face. My tears weren’t for Michael, and I didn’t want him coming in thinking they were.

  “Stop crying, baby. There’s nothing to forgive. We live and we learn. Don’t think for one minute that I haven’t learned a thing or two from you,” she said, trying to sound hard-core. Her attempt lightened the moment. “But it feels real good to know that my baby girl respects me,” Mama said, chuckling slightly.

  “I do. I always have. It was always my problem not yours. I have to go. I just wanted to tell you how much I love and appreciate you.” I needed to collect myself before Michael arrived.

  “I know. Same here. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, know that it’s Michael who’s lost.” Mama blew me a kiss over the phone and hung up. Now I was ready to face my new life.

  Michael entered the apartment, and when he hit the lights he was startled, but he tried to act unaffected. “Babe, what happened to the furniture?” Michael casually asked, looking around. The only thing still intact was that tired walk-in closet, and his clothes.

  “Oh, I moved all my furniture to my new apartment. Remember, it was all mine. You can keep the place, like I said, I have a new one.” I handed him my set of keys.

  “Charlie, what the hell is going on?” Michael was pissed. Probably more so because he was going to have to cook and clean for himself now.

  “You would know if you didn’t have your head so far up Natasha’s butt. By the way, she called earlier,” I said with a smirk.

  “Charlie, I know I was wrong, but I ended that months ago. I swear.” Michael was sweating, and doing that fast talking again.

  “You ended it? Oh, so now you’re admitting something did happen.” I shook my head.

  “It didn’t mean anything. I was just using her, baby. Please just listen to me, I can explain.” Michael realized he was losing.

  “When I first met you, I told you that I would be the coolest woman you would ever date. No nagging or questioning your whereabouts all the time. All I wanted from you was respect,” I reminded Michael.

  “I know, and you mean everything to me. Please Charlie, don’t do this, I love you.” Michael looked sorrowful.

  “How can you love me, when you can’t even respect me? You had that woman calling our house. Michael, calling our house.” The way I looked and the harshness of my words let him know I wasn’t his fool anymore.

  “I hope Natasha was worth it. I pray she makes you and the kids very happy. And good luck on that new business.” Granny gave me that last one, said the old folks used to say, “You get more flies with sugar than shit!” I was killing him with all the kindness in the world.

  “Fuck! Charlie, please just wait! Just give me another chance!” Michael was starting to lose it. I picked up my small box of personal items and made my exit. I kept my head held high as I walked past Michael.

  “It’s gonna be hard, but I’ve got to move on with my life. I’ll eventually get over you and I imagine you’ll get over me. But what’s more important is that I have to do what’s right for me.” I turned one last time before opening the door. “Why should I continue to press you to be faithful? A man who’s true will be true. You feel me?” I said, looking Michael right in the eye. “Peace out, adiós, or better yet, as the French would say, au revoir!” I smarted off. I just couldn’t help myself.

  Michael would’ve married me. Just a little more time was all he needed, and my continued patience would be rewarded once I
said, “I do.” I still love Michael, but it’s time for me to start loving myself. I’m finally doing what I feared most, starting over on my own. The fear of being alone was so powerful, but now my happiness feels just as strong.

  I checked my watch, right on time. I walked out and headed across the street where Lindsay was pulling up in the getaway car. I’d risen out of Michael’s destructive ashes like a phoenix!

  Chapter 40

  Mama’s Eyes

  Mama, I want to come home,” my voice cracked. I didn’t need to give an explanation or reason. Mama wanted me home too.

  I was sitting at a small table in the back of Starbucks inside Lambert–St. Louis Airport waiting for Mama to pick me up. The airport was a drastic contrast from the Newark Airport bustle of businessmen and jet-setters.

  A vision of timeless beauty, Mama appeared. She was dressed ethnic chic. Layers of scarves and Egyptian-print fabric draped her body. She jazzed up the ensemble with exaggerated beads around her neck and a hip pair of multicolored Prada sneakers, a present from me last Christmas. Mama’s large gold bangles jingled softly as she held me tightly in her arms.

  “So, how’s my Lindsay?” Mama asked, emptying a tiny blue packet of sugar substitute into her coffee.

  “I’m fine, Mama. I’m happy to see you.” I doodled with the coffee stirrer.

  “I want to talk before we go home.”

  There was a look in her eyes and I knew that a lesson was coming. Mama took a big swallow of the molten black liquid. “You need to come home more often. Family should be the most important thing in one’s life.”

  Mama insisted I had gotten carried away with work and was too intense about life.

  “Your family’s gonna love you no matter what. Whether or not you have a job or know people in high places. You get so caught up in the little things, Lindsay. Things that add up to a bunch of nothing, like this whole relationship with Troy.”

  My sisters had opened their big mouths.

  “Honey, please, your life is worth so much more than some little relationship. Stop worrying. When it’s time, God will bring you the right one.” Mama’s words of wisdom stung. “How have you been feeling?” she said, examining me.