So Done

by Paula Chase

  It hadn’t felt like it.

  If it had been a mistake, how come Tai’s eyes had widened then narrowed as she scowled at Mr. Bryant afterward? How come the next time Tai invited her over and Mila asked, “Is your father going to be home?” Tai got loud, almost like she was mad that Mila had brought him up. She reprimanded Mila like she was a bad child. “Bean, you know how ignorant he can be. Ignore him like I do.”

  Mila had tried. She really had. It hadn’t worked. She couldn’t go over to Tai’s and act like nothing had happened. But she couldn’t hide not going, either.

  Her dad folded his arms and kicked one foot over the other. He cracked himself up again. “Is this a real question or you just asking to have options to escape the general Phillips crazy?”

  Mila smiled weakly through her churning stomach. “I wouldn’t mind living with Aunt Jacqs. I had fun this summer.”

  “I have no doubt you did. But being there a few weeks and living there is different.” He pushed the lid down on the commode and sat. “Why would I send you to Aunt Jacqi’s, babe?”

  Mila instantly regretted asking. Her brain froze as she tried to come up with an answer he’d believe. Their mother was a drug addict who was no longer welcome in the house until she was clean. She knew it. And they knew it. So when he asked you something in that quiet, probing voice, playtime was over. She wasn’t ready for the conversation because it wasn’t like she could tell him the real reason—that she didn’t want to live across the street from Mr. Bryant anymore if she didn’t have to.

  “Well, you sent Cinny for high school,” she said, holding on to the only true answer she had.

  “I did,” he agreed. His eyebrows furrowed and unfurrowed like he was trying to decide which emotion to show. They ended up high and straight—a bad attempt at hiding that she’d caught him off his game. “Because I sent Cinny, you just figured I’d send you to live with Aunt Jacqs, too?” He asked the question slow and carefully. Mila wasn’t sure whether it was to make sure she understood it or so he understood it himself. “Just like that?”

  With “yes” caught in her throat, Mila could only nod. Her confidence faded as the certainty in his voice grew.

  “There’s no way you’d know this, but sending Jacinta away was one of the hardest decisions I ever made.” He tapped her wrist softly, keeping beat to the conversation. “It was the right thing for her. But it’s my job to raise you and your brothers. I’m not going to keep shipping y’all off.” He touched her chin, swiveling her face upward. “Cinny was getting too close to things in the streets that could have sucked her in. You’re different—”

  He paused. If there were things in the Cove sucking her in, now was the time to tell him. Tell him and he’d fix it because that’s what her dad did. His light brown eyes questioned and his fingers pressed softly into her flesh, encouraging her to be truthful.

  She opened her mouth, breathed in—unsure what was going to come out—then nodded. Telling the truth wasn’t an option.

  His wide grin—assuming they were on the same page again—hurt her. They weren’t even in the same book, much less on the same page. She bit the inside of her lip to stop it from trembling as he ticked off what made her so special.

  “You’re not afraid of life outside of the Cove, Jamila. You like school, you dance, and you’re curious about the world. Jacinta wasn’t. The Cove was her world and getting her to leave wasn’t easy.” That was an understatement. Cinny hated life in the Woods at first. His face darkened at the memory. “But you have TAG to look forward to. If you went to Aunt Jacqs’, you’d miss out on that opportunity. Know what else?” He swung playfully at one of the micro braids that slithered around her shoulders. “I miss Cinny too much. I did what I had to do for her. But sending her to live with Jacqi made me realize that my kids’ place is definitely here with me. Good or bad. So I’m gonna do my best by you and your brothers.” His smile was crooked. “How am I doing so far?”

  Mila wanted to be done with the conversation. Before the smile on her face could slide away, she tipped her hand side to side. Her dad’s laugh boomed inside the small space. He’d shot down the only plan she had for getting away from Mr. Bryant. The room felt like it was spinning.

  “Just so-so huh? Ouch.” He pecked her forehead with his lips. “I’ll try and do better in the future, baby girl.”

  He thundered down the stairs, leaving Mila reeling.

  “Boys, be ready when I get back from the store,” he boomed over the music.

  Once the front door slammed, Mila squeezed her eyes tight. She was relieved and frustrated at the same time. Relieved that she hadn’t had to tell him what happened that day in Tai’s yard. Frustrated that her dad was suddenly Mr. Answer Right Away.

  Seriously, any other time they asked him anything, he had to “sleep on it.”

  When JJ wanted to quit the Cougars basketball team, he’d slept on that for two days before telling JJ that quitting mid-season wasn’t an option. When Mila asked could she take Mandarin instead of Spanish, he’d thought it over nearly a week before deciding it made no sense for her to learn a language she’d never use versus one she could use with one out of every four of her neighbors.

  What happened to sleeping on it? It wasn’t fair.

  Didn’t her dad know there was stuff in the Cove that could pull her in, too?

  Didn’t he know he couldn’t protect her from everything?

  The realization filled her with gloomy despair.

  With one long leg she reached out and nudged the bathroom door shut so her brothers wouldn’t see the tears running down her face. She laid her forehead on her knees and breathed through the brick on her chest, doing her best to muffle the sobs.

  Chapter

  8

  “The TAG countdown is real out here in these streets,” Rollie’s voice said from Tai’s laptop.

  They’d been on Skyvo chatting for the last thirty minutes and it was the first time he’d mentioned TAG. That was progress as far as she was concerned. She balanced the laptop on her knees, her back against her bed. Luckily she’d gotten up early and wasn’t looking scary when his chat call came through. Score a point for Nona and her mandatory breakfasts.

  Thanks to all the overtime she worked, breakfast was the only meal she and Tai were guaranteed to share. Even when her father was staying with them, it was exclusively her and Nona’s time since he acted like rising before ten would literally kill him.

  “You’re so daggone pressed,” Tai said, hoping it came out as a joke like she’d meant it.

  Rollie lectured her. “Naw, it’s called ambition. Pressed is when you open for something you might not get.”

  “Shoot, you might not get this,” she said. She was almost gentle as she continued. “Anybody can get cut, Rollie. It’s an audition.”

  A flicker of doubt crossed his face, then his chill returned. “I know. But I don’t plan on being one of ’em.” He turned it on her. “You should be the one nervous. I heard the dance joint is the hardest thing to get into.”

  There was a part of Tai that didn’t care. There had been TAGs before. Girls Run. Sparking Art. Team Tennis Frenzy. And Urban Vogue, a modeling program. She had just known she was going to be America’s Next Top Model until the coordinator called her “stumpy.” It hurt her feelings enough to send her home crying. Nona had come back, fire in her eyes, and laid Ms. Jordana out. Tai never returned. A few months later Ms. Jordana stopped showing up and the program disappeared like sand in the wind.

  She didn’t get why anybody thought TAG was going to be any different than the other stuff that came in barrels blazing to help keep kids off the street. It would be hot for a while then go away or change, just like how the rec used to be open every day for a few hours and now it was only open two days a week. Whenever people called themselves making the Cove better, it was all talk. It was like she was the only one who felt that way, though.

  She dared to be honest with Rollie.

  “All the papers they gave
us about dance seem like it’s talking about ballet anyway.” Everything was always about ballet. “If it’s only about stupid positions in French and boring piano music, they can miss me with that.”

  “Yeah, well, my cousin Mike be with the Players and they helping put the program together,” Rollie said, unbothered by her answer. “He gave me some scoop—said it’s already, like, eighty applications in for the dance part.”

  Eighty? Sounded like they had told the whole world about these auditions. She sucked her lips in then forced her shoulders to shrug. “I guess we just got wait and see.”

  Her grandmother’s voice nagged faintly in the distance, saving her.

  “Ay, I gotta go.” She carried the laptop to the desk. “We gonna chill later with Bean at center court?”

  “You mean Mila?” he corrected sternly then laughed.

  She loved how cute he looked when he laughed. But she rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. Sometimes I remember and sometimes I don’t.” It was the most honest she’d ever been about the whole thing. “So you coming or naw?”

  Maybe she was crazy but it felt like she was starting to wrap him around her finger, a tiny bit at least.

  “Yeah, we be there,” he said.

  Tai felt like pumping her fist in victory.

  Wait. Had he said “we”? Ugh.

  She started to tell him to leave Simp home, but Nona’s voice grew closer. She was in the hallway and Tai didn’t want her to come in and get loud about what was she doing blah-blah.

  “All right, later,” she said, logging off before Rollie could say “bye.”

  She looked around her room. There were clothes scattered on the floor. Something else Nona would fuss about. She snatched some items and dropped them in the overflowing hamper. Either her grandmother was slacking, or she was waiting on Tai to bring it down. It was a battle Tai could play all day. She packed the clothes tight until the hamper bulged. She checked the room once more, trying to see it through Nona’s eyes.

  A plastic bag with several hangers caught her eye. Nona had asked her to recycle the dry cleaning stuff last week. She kept forgetting. She grabbed it and raced down the narrow staircase. One of the hangers scraped against the wall like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Metai,” her grandmother called out. “What I tell you about scratching up my walls?”

  “Sorry, Nona,” Tai called back upstairs. “I’m going to Bean’s.”

  Before she could race out the door Nona was already coming down the stairs, fingers inspecting the wall. She looked Saturday-morning clean with her hair freshly done, wearing a black T-shirt that hugged her curves and a pair of black linen capri pants. The word wine-o and a wine glass were jeweled across her chest. Satisfied there were no scratches, she turned her scowl into a smile.

  “You know the supe call himself charging me extra if he has to do anything but repaint,” her grandmother said, no longer upset. She spied the hangers jutting out of the recycle bin. “I can’t believe it. I didn’t have to remind you to recycle that mess. Is my baby girl growing up?”

  As bad as Tai wanted to roll her eyes, she let her grandmother win that one. “Um-hm,” she said, mostly tuning out Nona’s teasing about how that should mean the overflowing hamper should make its way downstairs any day now. She kept her eyes on the action across the street.

  Bean was heading inside until Mr. Jamal yelled, “Ay, you forgetting something, Ms. Phillips?” His head gestured to the open hatch of the truck and the dozen or so grocery bags inside.

  “I thought that’s what dads were for?” Bean teased back.

  Metai wasn’t positive, but Bean sounded more proper than usual. Looked like being in the Woods all summer had rubbed off on her after all.

  Her jet-black micro braids, a big, fragile bun at the top of her head, bobbed as she laughed. She backtracked to cuff three of the bags at a time, then disappeared into the house. Mr. Jamal grabbed up a bunch more, then bellowed for his sons to get the rest.

  Tai watched it unfold with restless envy.

  They were all corny close. Mr. Jamal never had a problem sending her home when he wanted “Phillips time.” Tai always lingered, thinking if she dipped out slow enough Mr. Jamal would include her. Her and Bean were practically sisters, they were together so much. But to her annoyance, he never did. Like, what did they do different when she stepped out of the house, anyway?

  She didn’t notice her own father, stretched out across Nona’s couch, until he propped himself up on one elbow and yelled over to her. “So it’s just me and you today, Booty Boo?”

  He knew she hated that stupid nickname. She also hated repeating to him how much she hated it. It was like he played dumb on purpose. For real, what grown man enjoyed arguing?

  Yet if she said something back, it would be she was acting too grown. Then Nona would start talking yang about respecting her father. And Tai wasn’t about to go there. He needed to respect his self first. Grown and still living at home whenever he was in between girlfriends. The latest had kicked him out, probably for being an overgrown child.

  His icy mint eyes sparkled as he grinned. They looked so much alike in the eyes, it was like looking in a mirror. The only difference was how his got wider, hers more narrow, when they smiled.

  Ignoring him, she frowned at Nona. “Where you going today?”

  Nona’s arm went around her, escorting her to the sofa so the three of them were huddled. “I’m going to the Food and Wine Fest, baby girl.” Nona’s arms folded across her chest. “Bryant, didn’t I ask you to text Tai earlier this week so you would know what’s on her schedule this morning?” She shook her head, disgusted. “Look, I won’t be back until about eight or nine. I don’t want Tai out there running the streets. I thought you’d made plans, boy.”

  Tai’s mouth disappeared as she pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything. Her father plan something for the two of them? Please. Until she was eight, Tai had thought he was her older brother. He was as useless as one.

  Her father didn’t even have the good sense to look ashamed. It wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t done what Nona had asked him. And her grandmother was a fool on some other level if she thought it was the last. Tai rushed to get herself out of it. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be chained together all day.

  “I was just going to chill with Bean all day anyway.” She barely glanced his way as she pressed. “He can do what he want.”

  Nona’s hands flew to her hips. “Jamila just barely getting home, Metai. I couldn’t ask Jamal to watch you all day. The man probably want to spend some time with his daughter.”

  The truth hit Tai like a hammer to the face. Her father made it worse.

  “So you still need me or what, Ma?” He sat up fully alert, smelling a way out. “’Cause I got some business I got take care of down Fourth, anyway.”

  “The only business you gon’ take care of is your child, Bry-ant,” Nona said, splicing his name so he knew she wasn’t playing.

  He looked about as happy about it as Tai. Knowing he wouldn’t come up with a convincing enough argument—he never did when he wanted his way—Tai pushed, despite the finality in her grandmother’s voice. “Nona, Mr. Jamal already said we could hang out.” Her mouth puckered as she forced out the rest. “And if he get tired of me, trust, he’ll send me home.”

  Nona walked into the kitchen. She went about packing a small cooler with waters and fruit. She worked through their small kitchen stacking the cooler far beyond its capacity. Her face was a mix of concentration and frustration.

  “Even if you go over for a while, you not staying all day, Tai,” Nona said, before whipping around to lash out at her son. “And don’t be asking if I need you like you some paid babysitter. Metai is your child. Not mine.” She huffed, adding a hasty, “Baby girl, Nona don’t mean no harm by that. But your father”—she raised an eyebrow at him—“needs to start taking on more responsibility.” She went on muttering, focused on packing. “Boy twenty-eight year
s old and he gon’ sit there and act like he doing me a favor by spending time with the child he done made.”

  She furiously threw things in the cooler.

  Tai’s father shook his head, like Nona was the one crazy, and laid back down.

  Metai’s stomach cramped. She moved away from the sofa and closer to her grandmother’s ranting in the kitchen. Whenever her father came around, it always came to this same scene. She wished he’d just stop visiting or whatever he called himself doing. For as much as Nona fussed about wanting him to step up his daddy game, things between them were always better when her father was gone. Tai figured Nona felt guilty. And that was fine. Whatever it was, Nona let her do more and did more for her when time between his drop-ins stretched out.

  He always messed stuff up by showing up randomly. She blew out a loud breath to remind her grandmother she was still there.

  Nona’s face was tight. She put down the cooler, came over, and wrapped her arms around her granddaughter. “Have fun today.” She directed her voice to the living room. “You can stay over Bean’s till four, then come on home. All right?”

  Tai managed to nod over the huge lump in her throat. She didn’t return Nona’s hug and instead of giving her grandmother a kiss, only put her cheek to Nona’s puckered lips. Four o’ clock. How was Nona gonna make her sit in the house all day like that?

  She shouldered the door open and sulked across the street to Nona’s mild reprimand about not getting a kiss back. But when Tai glanced back, the door was already shut.

  Her father ruined everything. All he had to do was act like they had plans. Once Nona was gone, Tai would have been in the wind and he wouldn’t have said nothing, because then Nona would have known he didn’t have squat planned for them to do. He was so stupid.

  Life without him would be perfect, right about now.

  Chapter

  9

  The music was sky-high. Mila and Tai were in her room, home alone, removing the last bit of evidence of summer with giant cotton balls and smelly nail polish remover. Mila felt lighter for the first time in hours.