by Ashley Cruse
One Sunday when she showed up from one of her disappearing acts, which were starting to become quite frequent, a sheriff knocked on their door. They arrested my cousin for shoplifting at several different stores around town. My aunt tried hard to defend her. They had her on tape stealing with another girl. The other girl got caught in Dillard’s, and when she was apprehended, she gave up Vic.
It was within several weeks of her arrest that the truth about my cousin hit my aunt and uncle. They went to her apartment to clean it out and move everything into storage. They found empty mechanical pencils and foil in the inside of her car. Inside her apartment, they found several things that they suspected she had cooked the coke up with. Her apartment reeked. I recognized that smell since I had experienced it the day I saw her at that crack house. She had no clean clothes or food. My aunt broke down and cried when she found used condoms and condom wrappers all over her bedroom and living-room floors.
On top of that, Victoria had confessed to them that when she hit up the stores, she was heavily under the influence. She was trading sex for a hit. She was letting anybody use her SUV for an eight ball right down to crumbs, and she was constantly boosting and selling to continue to support her habit.
The confession hurt her parents terribly. My wonderful boss was able to get her three years deferred adjudication probation. But under the watchful eye of my uncle, she had to complete rehab. First, she had to agree to go to, and then she had to complete it successfully in order for her probation to begin. She agreed, and the judge approved her sentence.
She went to St. Judes Recovery for Women, a private center, and she completed her twelve-step program in nine months. When she finished the program, she looked heavier, healthier, and astonishingly beautiful. She knew with help, she would be fine. She found a sponsor who wasn’t too far from Abilene. The couple who sponsored her actually lived in Clyde. Both were recovering drug addicts and had been clean for eleven years. They kept up with her and her meetings on a regular basis.
Her probation officer checked on her and even gave my cousin her cell phone number, just in case Vic ever found herself in a bind or on the verge of a relapse. She was blessed to have an adult probation officer who really cared. She understood what Vic was going through due to losing her own brother to drugs.
So, here my crazy cousin was, helping my uncle run his bakery, looking livelier than ever. She normally was the one who did the baking if my uncle had his hands full. She also trained the employees to bake. She was adorable but feisty as hell. One thing that had never changed about her was that she was always in somebody’s business . . . especially mine.
Chapter 3
Drake and I walked into the bakery. There weren’t too many people in the shop. The people who had already been helped were just waiting to be checked out. My uncle Justin was assisting the customers, and one of his employees was ringing them up. Another employee was the runner. He helped make sure that the store looked clean and the displays were full. I could see Victoria and another baker through the window of the door to the kitchen. Victoria was busy rolling out dough, and the other baker was applying chocolate frosting to a chocolate cake.
Drake made a beeline toward the cookies, and on cue, my uncle Justin was there, giving him a hard time.
“Young man, I can’t give you a chocolate chip cookie. But we got some dough in the back. You can make your own,” he offered jokingly to his great nephew.
“Nope!” A bullheaded Drake shook his head and stood firm. “I want my cookie now, Unna Jushi!”
My uncle teased him for a little longer and then gave him his cookie with ice cream. We said our good-byes and climbed into my truck.
Once we arrived at my aunt and uncle’s house, where Drake and I lived, I unlocked the door. The neighborhood they resided in was very busy. Everybody looked after one another. Tons of kids rode their bikes up and down the streets. Somebody was always barbecuing or having people over. Older adults sat outside and gossiped. Some people simply watched the neighborhood from their lawn chairs.
The place I called home was the nicest residence on the block. It was a four-bedroom home and had a huge kitchen. My aunt’s entire house was decorated in an Italian theme. Even the outside of her place reminded you of a diminutive Italy house, with its elevated arches and its numerous slender windows.
My aunt had chosen a very tan color for the exterior, with a heavy brown as the accent color, when it came time to paint the house. Exotic flowers embellished the front of the house. They were gorgeous, but they had thorns all over them, so you couldn’t pick them. With their deep reds and dark blues, they looked great against the house.
My uncle was my mom’s oldest brother, and when she was killed when I was a child, he helped my dad’s mom look after me. All my aunts and uncles turned flaky toward me when my mom was murdered in a robbery. When I say flaky, I mean they would say they were going to help out but then would never come through. You know, empty promises a deadbeat dad or mom would say to children. Except the difference was I wasn’t their child. They clearly didn’t want to be bothered with me, either. My dad had been incarcerated pretty much all my life. His mom stepped up to the plate and took me in. She took care of me with Uncle Justin’s and Aunt Audrina’s help, even though they had their own kids to tend to. They came to my volleyball games and invited me and my grandma to their house for holidays. She invited them for Easter and the Fourth of July.
My grandma died of a massive heart attack a couple of years before I had my son. And naturally, my aunt and uncle stepped in to help, just as they had when I was a child. Before long they invited me to move in with them.
I unlocked the front door and settled my son at the kitchen table so he could eat his cookie and ice cream. He had already had spaghetti at the day care, which my aunt had fixed for him. I quickly ran outside to check the mail.
There were bills for my aunt and uncle and a letter from Corey to me. I sat outside as I opened it, positioning myself so I could see Drake through the windstorm screen door. I stared at Corey’s nice handwriting on the envelope before I opened the letter.
Once I had ripped the letter open, I noted that he was still whining about the visits he hadn’t received the past couple of weekends. He also let me know he had made parole and was probably going to leave that unit soon. He had a sixty-day setback, which meant he’d be a free man in two months.
I immediately ran inside and dialed Brenda’s number. She was Corey’s mom. Although we had never met, she already seemed to approve of me. She liked that I worked, and she liked that I had goals. I wasn’t into partying and going clubbing on a regular basis. But, of course, there were times when I would step out. Whenever Corey would start acting out and trippin’ while he was on his drugs, and whenever we had a bad argument, I’d call her.
For the life of me, I could never understand why he was the way he was. I wasn’t dumb. I knew that people who did drugs were dependent on them for a reason. But what was his excuse? I needed Brenda to be aware of how screwed up he was acting. We all knew what direction he was headed in. He knew it as well, but I figured he didn’t care or he was wildin’ out just because. One minute he wanted to be a man, and the next he acted like a child who could not be disciplined.
I had never even seen a picture of his mom, but I knew she was white. I also knew that she had to be a strong and beautiful woman. Naturally, she cared about her son, but what could you do when he wouldn’t listen to you? I didn’t think he understood how much he had hurt her. When he got locked up, it affected a lot of people, and while listening to some of his childhood stories from her mouth, I could hear the pain in her voice.
When I got her voice mail after my third attempt at calling, I left her a message. Then I debated whether or not to call Naomi. She truly loved her big brother, and that was evident.
Naomi was a little off, and although she meant well, she had way too much drama going on in her own life. In the pictures I had seen of her, she looked like her broth
er, but she had long, curly hair. She was described to me as a manipulator. I just saw her as a young girl who needed to make mistakes to learn her way. Find her position in life. I was not sure if all the mistakes she was making were necessary, but who was I to judge?
I decided not to call Naomi, but I did called Corey’s brother, Tiger. Either way, I knew one of them would call her and fill her in. I just didn’t want her to make a big deal and blow everything out of proportion. It was best to let the brothers control all of that.
Tiger’s wife picked up the phone, and after I let her know who I was, I explained to her what was going on. She let me know that she would tell Tiger as soon as he arrived back from his Little League baseball practice. We spoke for a little while longer; then we disconnected with each other.
Now, his brother was more my variety of people. He was totally different than his younger siblings. He was working on his master’s in psychology and was very family oriented. He was built more like their dad. He actually resembled his dad more. Corey often described him as a square, but I didn’t see anything squarish about a man trying to provide a brighter future for his family. If anything, Corey should look up to him and follow in his footsteps. But it was what it was.
A few minutes later Corey’s mom called me back. I ran through the whole spiel with her as well. She was so happy, she was crying. Then it turned real serious.
“Doll, I really hope that you guys consider moving down this way,” she said, with a hint of hope in her voice.
“Yes. Naomi actually discussed all that with me. We are going to bring up that idea to him here pretty soon, when we meet up at Formby.”
“Yeah, she told me about it. I want to believe this time he will come.” Sadness was pouring out through the phone. I couldn’t help but feel for the poor woman. “All I want is for my son to be able to have a good life with the people who care about him. The streets don’t love nobody.”
I couldn’t agree with her more.
We chatted for a little while longer. Really, I listened more than talked. Once she was done venting, we hung up. Despite how his mom was feeling, I was thrilled. The wait was nearly over. My baby would soon get out, and we could finally be together again.
Chapter 4
That Saturday, I met Naomi at the prison. We both were going to see Corey together. Naomi and I had become acquainted before Corey got locked up. This whole year and a half had brought me closer to his family. His parents were divorced. His dad lived here with his grandma, whom I had also grown close to. His mom, his sister, and his brother all resided in Bedford, a suburb of Fort Worth.
My opinion of her went like this: she was the annoying little sister. She was slightly taller than me and had a light complexion. Her hair was dark brown, naturally curly, and rested on her shoulders. She was slightly thicker than me. Unlike her brother, who had a thug-like swag, Naomi talked like she was a Valley girl. She carried herself like a rich white girl and dressed in all the latest fashions. She never wore the same thing twice. But when this girl got rowdy, the nigga inside her emerged.
She had a precious little girl named Nestle. Nestle looked just like Corey to me. Her smile was wickedly beautiful, and that part of her came from her uncle Corey. She had dark red hair with a hint of blond. Her thick, curly hair flowed down her back and complemented her complexion, which was slightly darker than her mom’s. Although Naomi was fond of her daughter, her mind frame was still stuck in her childhood. She often left Nestle for days at a time with her mom or Tiger. But she always came back, so I guessed that was good.
Naomi was already there waiting on me when I pulled my truck into the visitors section. I had brought my son, Drake, with me. Drake had grown pretty fond of Corey. We both wanted their relationship to continue to grow.
“Hey, Dollie! Hi, Drake!” Naomi greeted us.
Nestle had not quite woken up from her nap, and Naomi was carrying her. Drake smiled up at Naomi as we walked into the building and got in line so we could sign in to see Corey.
“Mom and I were talking,” Naomi was saying. “We both really want Corey to come to Bedford.”
“I think he should go too, but I know he won’t go without us,” I said to her.
Naomi turned toward me, shifting her child’s head from her left to the right shoulder. “We want you and Drake to come. We just feel like he would do better in Bedford rather than in Abilene.”
I had to agree with her on that. Corey and I had often talked about what could happen when he got out. Sometimes, I even got a bad feeling about what would happen when he got out, but I didn’t know why I had this bad feeling, and I would just push it to the back of my mind. I ignored this feeling because Corey seemed so sincere. I also trusted him.
We chatted about the move until it was time for us to sign in. When we were finished, we walked through the metal detector and waited for them to call Corey’s name.
Once again, Moses was out sweeping the floor. Instead of the African American, a short Mexican man was wiping the floor and the windows down. A black lady correctional officer was supervising them. Her eyes were glued to both of them. Moses didn’t dare look up or speak. I wasn’t upset by it.
We waited patiently for almost thirty minutes. They called Corey’s name, and we followed the crowd into the visiting room. My boyfriend had gotten us a table at the back of the room. Once he saw all of us, his eyes lit up. I knew he was happy to see us, especially Naomi and his niece, who hardly ever came to see him.
As everybody took their seats, I went to the snack machines and got our food. I also got our drinks as well. I took my seat and began passing out the drinks. I noticed that Drake had taken a seat on Corey’s lap. I also noticed that Nestle had woken up. Corey’s sister was pitching her idea to him, and Corey seemed to be listening very closely to her. I gave my drink and chips to Nestle and went to get myself some more. When I came back, I took a seat and Corey grabbed my hands.
“You know I made parole, right?” he asked me. “You got my letter?”
I nodded at him. I opened my water bottle and took a sip. “Where did you parole to?”
“I think my granny’s address. But, say, we gonna move to Bedford. I’d do better down there than in Abilene.” He took a sip of his soda. He rubbed my hand with his free hand.
Naomi grabbed my hand, squealing like a pig. I traded smiles with her crazy ass. She squeezed my hand as she grinned real big at her older brother.
“What about your friends, though? Did your homies in the hood not keep money on your books or something?” she teased sarcastically.
“Fuck them niggas. They ain’t wrote me or nothin’ since I got here. I made it this far without them, so I can keep going.”
Naomi and I traded smiles with each other again. The rest of the visit flew by, as usual, and we all said our tearful good-byes before our departure. Afterward, Naomi and I stood in the parking lot and talked for a few minutes before we left the premises.
“My brother really loves you,” Naomi said.
I looked at her.
“I hope you guys move down there. Corey always says he’s gonna do right. He always gets out, fucks up, and goes right back in.”
I knew she saw the stunned expression on my face, because she laughed it off.
“Maybe he will do right by you,” she added, then walked in the direction of her car, Nestle in tow.
“He better,” I thought aloud as Drake and I returned to the truck.
The ride back home never took as long as the drive up there. We were back in Abilene within a couple of hours. I decided to swing through Corey’s old neighborhood to talk to his dad and his grandma. I hadn’t gotten a chance to let them know he was on his way home.
When I pulled into their driveway, both Granny Gina and his dad, Michael, were already outside. Granny Gina’s face lit up when my truck pulled in. I hopped out and went to let my son out. When I released him, he ran toward her and gave her legs a big hug.
“Got any news for me?” Michae
l was sitting on the bench outside Granny Gina’s brick house. He was smoking a cigar and had a forty in his hand.
Michael was a tall, dark-skinned black man who towered over you when he stood. I had never thought to ask him, but I knew he was well over six feet. He had an athletic build, and despite the beer belly he was growing, you can tell he was into sports.
Michael had been a basketball and track star back in his day. He’d pursued a college education on a basketball scholarship. That was when he had met Corey’s mom, down in El Paso. At the time, Brenda had been working as a librarian part-time and had been going to school to try to become a teacher. However, after they got together, she soon got pregnant with Tiger and dropped out. Michael continued his education and went on to become a basketball coach.
According to Corey, they had lived all over Texas and hadn’t really wanted for anything. But, for some reason, his parents had split up. Michael had moved in with his mom, and Brenda had moved to Fort Worth. Since then it had been a battle between the two. For a long time, Corey had been concerned because his mom wanted him there with her. But Corey had always wanted to be with his dad and Grandma Gina.
“Corey made parole,” I let them both know. I took a seat next to Corey’s dad.
“Where he parole to?” his grandma asked. She held Drake’s hands, and he swung them back and forth.
Grandma Gina was a short, chunky, light-skinned elderly woman. She moved with swiftness and talked with a thick Jamaican accent. Grandma Gina wasn’t Jamaican, but her deceased husband had grown up in Jamaica. Throughout her life being married to Mr. Knight, she had spent plenty of time on the island. Even after his passing, she would often take trips down there. I guessed once the accent grew on her, it just never left her.
I shrugged my shoulders. “All I know is he’s coming here, but he wants to move to Bedford,” I said to them.
They both started laughing.