Black Girls Must Die Exhausted: A Novel for Grown Ups

by Jayne Allen

  I had sent a text to Laila earlier, letting her know about my promotion. Leaving Post & Beam, I was surprised not to hear back from her. As I thought about it, she hadn’t been in touch as much as usual with no good explanation. I figured that she was spending more time with her Mr. Big, someone else’s husband, my mind reminded me as I thought about it. Laila was playing with fire, and even the day of my championship victory, that still had me worried. I sent her another text just as I left the restaurant, asking her to get in touch and tried to push it out of my mind. If I didn’t hear from her by the morning, I’d really have to give her a call.

  Chapter 22

  I finally reached Laila, who never properly explained her version of ghosting over the past week or so, but did agree to meet me at the gym for our regular Saturday morning workout. This time, when Lexi said that she would meet us there, I actually believed her. Laila was far less credulous. We stood waiting with ten minutes left before our boot camp class started.

  “Do you actually think she’s coming Tab? Lexi hasn’t made it here on any Saturday ever,” Laila said.

  “She said she was! I mean, when I saw her this past week, she was drinking a vodka soda. Have you ever seen Lexi drink a vodka soda?”

  “Nah,” Laila said. “That’s a pretty good point, though. Let’s call her and find out, ‘cause I’m about to go in and get my spot before somebody takes it.” I took out my phone and dialed Lexi’s number. She answered on the second ring, and sounded breathless. Laila and I both looked mortified, before we realized what was happening.

  “Hello,” she said, panting.

  “Um, Lexi?” I said, “What are you doing? Should we call you back? It sounds like you’re in the middle of something…personal.” Lexi laughed, still out of air.

  “Girl,” she breathed the words out. “Nah, I’m on the exercise bike at home. Can’t...make. It. There. To. Day.” She finally pushed out.

  “At least you’re getting your sweat on!” I said.

  “Sounded like you’re getting your swerve on!” Laila interjected from behind me. I tried not laugh into the phone.

  “Told you…not playin’,” Lexi panted. After two loud breaths, she continued, “Rob…had. Some. Thing. Come. Up. So. I have. The…Boys. See. you. at. Denisha.” I was happy to hear across the line that Lexi was at least getting her own version of a workout in. She might not be doing boot camp with us, but clearly she meant what she said about getting her body back. I hung up with her and followed Laila, who had already left to go inside the classroom.

  Boot camp was extra hard and that day, we’d focus on arms and abs, a painful workout. Laila, with her still lithe figure, usually would be a beast through these types of exercises, working up a sweat twice mine. But, on today, she was taking it extra easy, just gliding through the movements and only halfway doing the crunches.

  “Girl, why are you bullshitting?” I asked Laila. “You can’t be trying not to mess up your hair!” I whispered, looking at her dreads. Usually Laila was my inspiration to work harder. Today, I was out-pacing her so badly that…I thought…she might be…”What is wrong with you are you pregnant or something?” I joked with her. She looked back at me seriously.

  “Maybe.” What?? Oh hell no.

  “Maybe?”

  “Could be, but probably not. I’m just waiting,” Laila said casually.

  “Waiting on your period?”

  “Something like that.” Something like that? I hoped that Laila wasn’t saying what I thought she was. The train of thought distracted me from my calorie burn, so I left it alone. I made it through the hour, drenched and finally toweling off. My hair had turned into a puff, even in spite of the ponytail that I pulled it into before class. At least I would be seeing Denisha in just a couple of hours. Laila stood next to me drinking out of her water bottle, with just a few small areas of sweat showing on her shirt.

  “Girl, what is up with you?” I asked. Laila toweled off longer than necessary, but then finally answered.

  “I don’t think I’m pregnant, Tab,” Laila said reluctantly. You don’t think you are?? “But the reality is that I’m not doing what I need to be doing to be sure I’m not.”

  “Laila, he’s married.” I tried my best not to sound judgmental. “Please don’t forget that. The other side of that shit is nothing nice. Trust me.”

  “I know,” Laila said resignedly. “The whole thing is a mess, but I’m in it now, so I’m just trying to manage, day by day.”

  “What’s there to manage?’ I asked.

  “My feelings, for one,” Laila said. “By the time I found out he was married, it was too late to back out of how I was feeling. I keep trying, but it’s not easy, Tab, it’s really not.” I thought about this guy and the idea of him prancing around, not wearing his wedding ring, presenting as single, but not being available. It was so selfish, but so common. I tried to imagine my dad doing that, meeting Diane, and Diane being innocent somehow. The picture didn’t fit. I could see Rob doing that though, 100%. That sounded exactly like something Rob would do. I wondered if this is what his side-chick had been dealing with. She had to be pretty upset to reach out to Lexi on Instagram, of all places. I definitely didn’t want Laila to have to deal with some crazed wife looking for her husband.

  “But what about his family?” I asked.

  “What about his family?” Laila answered quickly. “We don’t talk about it, and real talk, his family is his responsibility, not mine,” she said coarsely. “Look, I know it’s not right, and not ideal, but I’m already on max with everything else I’m dealing with. Every time I think about breaking up with him, it makes me sad, just unbearably sad. So, I’m not thinking about that right now. I’m just going with the flow. I’m just taking it one day at a time. It’ll work itself out.” She bent down to stretch, as if to show clearly she was done with the topic. “Enough about Mr. Big, girl! That’s not even fun to talk about. Tell me about your promotion! Congratulations!” She gave me a big hug.

  “Ew! I’m so sweaty!” I said trying to hug her back, but backing away at the same time.

  “It’s cool we’re heading to the showers. I can take a lil’ bit of your funky sweat on me for five minutes. Plus it makes me look like I worked harder,” Laila said with a smile.

  “The promotion was cool…” I said. I was kind of getting tired of telling the story, but I did want Laila’s insight on the part that I still didn’t understand. “It was cool until Chris told me that he promoted me over Scott just because of my potential and that I needed to earn my spot.”

  “Well, didn’t you earn the spot by getting the promotion?” Laila said, looking genuinely confused.

  “See, that’s what I thought! But, then he said that Scott had been working harder than me—over-talking me in meetings, and that I needed to be more assertive and make my voice heard.”

  “Damn. That’s crazy. Seems like he’s in your corner, though,” Laila said, scratching her scalp between her dreads. “I wish I had had someone like that in my career, like ever. No one noticed what I did one way or another. I would kill for five minutes of solid feedback.”

  “I guess,” I said, uncomfortably, trying to process the new perspective. “Well, you, me and Lexi need to get together and have a toast. Lots going on these days.” I remembered my re-break up with Marc and that Lexi had a whole life development that she hadn’t yet filled Laila in on yet. I wanted to let her do that herself, rather than spill beans at the gym. At the same time, I didn’t want to feel like I was lying to Laila. Lexi’s split with Rob was something that Laila would probably expect to have been told before now.

  Laila and I agreed to meet in the coming week as we headed to our cars in the parking lot. We hugged and then, we went our separate ways, just like we usually did. Just like normal. So, how could I have known what storm was brewing?

  Chapter 23

  Sometimes I got fed up makin
g my way to see Denisha every Saturday after Saturday, just to bring my hair into some “presentable” state, light years away from its natural condition. My standing hair appointment was my most faithfully observed religion, and on this day, I contemplated becoming a heretic.

  “Let’s just cut it all off,” I told Denisha, only half joking.

  “Girl, all that long pretty hair you got?” Denisha said. “What you need to do is let me give you some highlights—it would look so pretty on television.” And that was enough, just a simple reminder of why I was here, every week, upon week, upon week, without fail, in Denisha’s chair. I couldn’t “go natural,” I couldn’t wear braids, and I couldn’t get locs like Laila, whose name was public, but whose appearance was always safely concealed behind a computer screen. I envied her freedom and authenticity.

  Just slightly over three hours later, I was on my way to Crestmire, with my hair “bouncing and behaving” as my mother liked to call it. Denisha had spent most of the time pitching me story ideas, most of which would have gotten me laughed right out of the newsroom. I was still trying to figure out my “perspective” as Chris called it. The biggest break in my routine came from Lexi, who showed up unusually giddy and finally admitted that she had a date. She installed a dating app on her phone for “practice,” as she called it and lucked up on meeting someone interesting right away. Lexi’s new commitment to fitness and vodka sodas had started to pay off and she was looking much more like MILF-material. We talked about maybe going to a movie, but since she had now made other plans, my evening was free.

  I found Granny Tab and Ms. Gretchen in Granny Tab’s apartment this time. Ms. Gretchen was using her neon yellow nails to make tea for the two of them and Granny Tab was sitting on the sofa.

  “Hey hey!” I called out as I came in the door. I was welcomed enthusiastically.

  “Well now Two, I’ve been dying to ask you! How was your date?!” Granny Tab asked me even before I fully extracted myself from my hug with her.

  “Oh, Granny Tab, it didn’t go that well,”

  “Well that’s too bad, Sweetheart” Granny Tab said, registering disappointment on her face. “Didn’t he say he wanted to get back together?”

  “Yeah, on his terms,” I muttered.

  “And you told him to kick rocks!” Ms. Gretchen said. “Thatta girl!” She gave me a highlighter-colored thumbs up from the kitchenette.

  “Well something like that,” I said. “At first he really started to open up to me. He shared about his family—his father…” I paused, considering whether I should keep Marc’s confidence, or tell it all. “His father…has a drinking problem. He said that his family was chaotic, in turmoil even, and that he…was scared to move forward with marriage or kids.”

  “Oh, dear,” Granny Tab said.

  “Well, just what does any of that have to do with you?” Ms. Gretchen said.

  “I don’t know, I guess for me not to take it personally? I thought that it was endear…” Ms. Gretchen cut me off.

  “Disgusting is what it was. Using your compassion and humanity against you like that. Now that is the lowest of the low.”

  “You think so?” I asked. “I mean, at first, I did feel like he was playing me. But, since we haven’t been speaking, I’ve had some time to think and I guess I thought it was endearing…well, at least the sharing part was.”

  “Endearing?” Ms. Gretchen said. “Plheh. It’s a trap. They get you all open emotionally and then start asking you to make all kinds of compromises. Make you forget about what you really want. Good dick’ll do that to you too, if you don’t watch out.”

  “Gretchen!”

  “Tabitha!” Ms. Gretchen mocked my Grandmother again, in their familiar game of feigned indignation.

  “Maybe he’ll come around,” Granny Tab said. “But probably no sense just waiting on him until he does, I agree with that. Don’t keep all your eggs in one basket.” I thought about Todd again. He hadn’t called, and neither had I. Maybe I needed to change that. Granny Tab broke my thoughts. “So what about this promotion? You said that you got it. I’m so proud of you!” My spirit sank a bit. She was so excited that I was almost too embarrassed to tell her the rest of the truth of what happened. But, my grandmother was my safest place.

  “I’m excited, but I’m still a little confused. It was almost like my boss said I got the promotion because I’m black.” My grandmother blinked her blue eyes at me in surprise.

  “Well,” Granny Tab said slowly, “from what I’ve seen in my lifetime, it’s great that somebody would get something good on account of being black.”

  “But Granny Tab, if that’s the case, it makes me feel like I’m not talented—or not good enough to make it on my own.”

  “Only a fool would think that anything they’ve done was on their own, Tabby,” Ms. Gretchen said. “Nobody makes it on their own, at least, not anywhere worthwhile.”

  “Two, if only you knew how much things have changed. I don’t know that you’d be thinking so much about these kinds of details that you can’t control. You better just take the good that’s coming to you.” Granny Tab said, adjusting her position on the sofa and putting her feet up on the ottoman. Oh no, swelling again. She continued, “Remember my childhood friend Evelyn? The one that lived next door and used to sneak me into dance parties? Well, she was the valedictorian of her high school and you know what? She couldn’t even go to the college that was right in our hometown, nope. She had to go almost two hundred miles away to the colored school, West Virginia State. Was that what she deserved? I’ve told you Two, I used to think to myself when I was growing up, Black girls, they sure must die exhausted. So many battles to fight, through segregation, Jim Crow, which I saw first hand, up through Civil Rights, and today, even. I know it must feel like a lot,” my grandmother said, registering concern in her wrinkled face.

  “All this nonsense about being exhausted, Tabitha,” Ms. Gretchen interjected. “I say don’t ever die of exhaustion on somebody else’s terms!” As if on cue, the teapot on the stove started to whistle. Ms. Gretchen pulled it off and set it aside. “Whatever life you can get your hands on, you’ve got to live it right out to the corners. When I die, I want to skid into heaven with the last wheel falling off,” Ms. Gretchen, said with a Cheshire smile. You couldn’t help but laugh. She motioned me over. “Tabby, come take over for me with your grandmother’s tea. You know this is my time to go run my errands. You go ahead and take my cup.” She gave a wink while gathering her belongings. “Tabitha, I’ll see you again this evening.” Ms. Gretchen shot a beeline look to my grandmother, told me bye and then bolted out of the door. I pulled out the Lipton tea bags, poured the hot water and brought the two cups over to the sofa to sit next to my grandmother.

  “That Gretchen, I tell ya. She’s always sayin’ something, doing something. She’s toooo much,” Granny Tab said with a smile.

  “Has she always been like this?” I asked.

  “Always has been. I recon she will be until the day she dies.” I thought about Alexis. I couldn’t imagine us being separated like Granny Tab and her friend Evelyn were.

  “Granny Tab, were you sad when your best friend had to go away for college?”

  “I was Two. It was terrible. I was just a mediocre student, but that was enough to get me into the local University right next to home. I never understood how someone so bright and intelligent as Evelyn would have had to go so far away, just on account of her skin color. That’s why, when I fell pregnant with your father, I knew there was no way that I’d let anyone separate us. Not me from him, not your grandfather from us. No way.”

  “And that’s how you wound up in California.”

  “Pretty much. Your grandfather joined the Service. That was how he was able to secure some income for us straight away. I was pregnant and 19 and didn’t have much education. And you know, at that time, it wasn’t even legal for us to get marri
ed where we lived. That’s why we had to get far away from West Virginia and not look back.”

  “Don’t you miss your family?” I asked Granny Tab.

  “I got my family sitting right here.” She patted my leg. “What’s there to miss?” Family. It’s true that Granny Tab was my family. My closest family. It was strange to hear at one time, we were meant to be pushed apart by arbitrary designations.

  “Granny Tab, can I ask you a silly question?” I asked, even though I already knew I could ask my grandmother anything. But, this time, what I wanted to know felt foreign as a thought, and strange coming from my lips. “What does it feel like, to be white?” My grandmother absorbed my words, took a deep breath, took off her glasses and squinted just a bit, which told me she was thinking.

  “Hmmm. I’ve asked myself the same question on occasion, when I was reminded of it, most of the time by cruel people when I was with my son…your father,” she said quickly, touching my knee. “I’d look at him sometimes, and look at me and wonder how we could live in a world that treated the two of us so differently, when he came from my own body. My skin color changed in the sun too, just like his, like yours—just not as dark, but believe me I tried,” she said with a smile, running her pale fingers soothingly across my golden brown arm. “I’d try to think, was ‘white’ a hair texture? A state of mind? I never could put my finger on it. Maybe it was just what we were told it was supposed to be, cause I have never felt white.” My grandmother shook her head softly before continuing. “So, the best I can tell you is that as I’ve experienced it, it’s more of a what it’s not, than a what it is. I mean, I got reminded of being a woman all the time, but being white?” She brought her hand to her face and gently rubbed her cheek. “Sometimes, when there’s no friction, no reminder of what you can’t do, it feels like a hole, that needs to be filled with something—so desperately. Filled so that there is a something. Your dad, then you…my grandchildren, you have been my greatest something. And I don’t know that there is any more than that.”