First Love

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First Love Page 5

by Tiya Rayne


  As if I thought him up, my brother’s voice carries loudly out the room. “And those stops at Miss. Ann’s Fried Chicken after work.”

  It is Lang’s voice that finally gave me the courage to open the door and go in.

  I take a deep breath and say, “Maybe it’s your love for the Dallas Cowboys that’s the cause of your heart problems.”

  I ignore the racing of my heart as I stand face to face with my family for the first time in eight years. The entire room is silently staring at me.

  My mother looks absolutely the same, with only a few strands of gray hair mixed in throughout her long black weave. She even still wears the same style, straight and parted on the side.

  My sister is standing beside her in a white lab coat. I guess that means she became a doctor. Maya looks strikingly different. Gone, are the plain Jane knit sweaters and durable khakis. The thick square–framed glasses are missing as well. Standing before me is a beautiful dark-skinned goddess. And though I always believed my sister to be gorgeous, her silk button up blouse and dark gray pencil skirt makes her look stunning. Her hair is parted down the middle and falling well past her shoulders in deep waves. I’m guessing she is wearing contacts, or maybe had Lasik because she isn’t wearing her glasses.

  Sitting in a chair next to Maya, is a man with skin the color of brown sugar. He has a bald head and goatee. Heavy lidded eyes cover a dark brown penetrating gaze. His features are angular and very boarder line pretty—like a male model. He’s gorgeous, and judging by the massive rock on my sister’s hand, he is her fiancé.

  On the couch underneath the large window is my brother Langston. He looks the most like my mother with his cinnamon brown skin and extra-long lashes. He and I both have my mother’s deep dimples. Beside Langston is a very pretty girl. Her skin is honey brown and she has a rounded face and kind features.

  The last face I notice is my father’s. He looks nothing like the virile man that I left eight years ago. Before I left he had just started to get a few gray hairs, now his hair was full of gray—what hair he had left anyway. He was sporting a nice shiny bald spot at the top of his head. His face was lined with crinkles making him look much older than his 47 years.

  It is my dad that finally breaks the awkward silence.

  “Zora… baby… is that really you?”

  I admit, I have changed a little since they last saw me. I have a little extra weight on my hips and ass. I was no longer that size three rail-thin teenager. I had entirely too much booty to be considered skinny. Although, I didn’t have much in the middle, my hips flared out giving me an hour-glass shape. Another change, and perhaps the most striking, is my hair. For as long as I could remember I wore long weave. Mama would make sure that Maya and I kept our every two weeks hair appointment to get our weaves redone. The only time I ever took the weave out was to wear it in some type of braid style for the summer. My hair was the first thing to go after I left. Not only could I not afford to keep the hundred dollar hair styles up, I didn’t want to. Now I wear my hair natural with shades of brown mixed with the black. My thick curls are wild and free and hang a little past my shoulders. Even with the hairstyle change, I still didn’t think I looked different enough for him not to know who I was.

  “Yea, it’s me, Daddy.”

  This seems to shake everyone up. Langston is the first one on his feet. He barrels into me wrapping me in a tight hug. His familiar scent surrounds me and it feels like home. I slowly wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me off the ground. I’m more than happy to see my brother, who was my only support during that time, but I’m still skeptical about letting my guard down. There are some secrets between us that could change this homecoming.

  “Langston, give me a chance to see my baby.” My mom says as she taps Lang’s arm. Langston reluctantly sets me back on my feet. When he steps back I notice tears in his eyes. My mother places her hands on my shoulders while she looks me up and down.

  “Look at you, all grown up. You even changed your hair.” She wraps me in a warm hug, placing kisses on my forehead. She steps away and I’m introduced to my sister-in-law, Kyra. Next in line is Maya. She hugs me limply. I don’t take offence to it, she then introduces me to her fiancé, Marcus. After the introductions and hugs are given, I realize there is one person I haven’t hugged. As Marcus steps away from our embrace, I notice my father sitting up from his bed. He eyes me warily, like he still believes this is a dream. For a moment he just stares at me, not saying a word. I briefly wonder what must be going through his head.

  My life after I left home was not easy. In fact, it was downright difficult. I wonder now can my father see that. Can he see how many times I cried in the past from lack of food or money? Do my eyes show how hard it was to stay away all these years? Does my posture display that me being here is tentative to how they react to me now? Do I somehow let on that if I get any inkling that they can’t accept who I am now or my situation, I would disappear again? Because, though life has had its struggles, I would never regret the decisions I’ve had to make. Knowing all that I would face, I would do it all over again.

  Finally, after what seemed like an extremely long time, a tear falls from his eyes as he says, “God answered my prayers. He brought my baby girl home.” He opens his arms for a hug and I go to him. Dad wraps his arms around me weakly, which I think is more because of his recent health condition than his lack of enthusiasm. I wait for that familiar warmth. The one I use to get when I was a little girl seeking comfort from a bad dream or a booboo. It doesn’t come.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” His tears are soaking through my flimsy off the shoulder top. “I shouldn’t have forced you to have that abortion.” My body immediately tenses and I step away from his embrace ending our hug early. I see the brief moment of hurt that cross his features, but it’s quickly swallowed by a sad smile.

  “Zora, jeez, where have you been all this time?” Langston asks, offering me the seat he was sitting in.

  I take the seat and he sits beside me, his wife on the other side of him. My mom sits down at the foot of my dad’s hospital bed while Maya and Marcus take the remaining chairs. Everyone’s attention is on me in rapt interest.

  I decided to give them the PG version of my life.

  “Chicago.” I answer. “After I left Richland, I stayed with Sean in Columbia for a few days and then we decided to relocate to Chicago.”

  “I called Sean.” My dad says frowning. “The day we realized you’d left. I called him and asked him had he seen you, he told me no.”

  “Don’t be mad at Sean. I told him to tell you that. I needed time to think.”

  “For eight years?” My sister asks.

  I cut my eyes to her. I wanted to tell her it would have been longer than that if not for Dad’s heart attack. However, I bit down on those words.

  “I had a lot to think about.” I reply instead.

  Maya doesn’t respond back, but I knew she could tell there was something else going on. My sister has always been that way. She never accepted anything without all the proper research. That’s how I know, without question, she is an amazing doctor.

  “How long are you staying?” It was Kyra, Langston’s wife that asked that question.

  “I have a little time off from my job, so maybe a week or two.” Or less if things go sour.

  “Great! You will get to meet your nephews. They will be ecstatic to meet their second aunt.”

  I smile at her enthusiasm. I liked her right away. She had kind eyes and she seems perfect for Langston.

  “So what kind of job is this that you get to take a week or two off?” My sister again.

  “I’m a waitress at a diner.” I say with no remorse.

  My answer seems to suck the energy out of the room. I come from a family of educated and career oriented people. My Mother is a professor. Her mother was an elementary school teacher and her father worked in senior management for a Fortune 500 company. My father is a lawyer and so was his father. My sister is a Do
ctor and my brother a lawyer. For me to be a waitress is like saying I’m a purple dinosaur with magic piss.

  “A waitress.” My sister repeats it like I pronounced the word wrong.

  “Yes, Maya. Or did you forget I left home with only a high school diploma.”

  “Are there no colleges in Chicago?”

  “Maya, leave your sister alone.” Marcus chimes in.

  Maya cuts her eyes at him with such deadly precision, I wonder how he isn’t bleeding out right now.

  “I just want to know how you’ve been gone eight years and not once decided to further your education. At least work your way up from something.”

  “Enough, Maya.” Langston demands.

  It takes a lot for Lang to get angry. He is such a calm guy, but I could tell by his voice he was getting pissed at Maya.

  “It’s ok, Lang.” I tell my brother and then turn to my sister. “I had other concerns, Maya.”

  Thankfully she doesn’t have time to ask me what those concerns are before my mama cuts in.

  “Well, are you seeing someone?”

  I almost laugh at that question. I’m seeing a ghost of a man I can never be with.

  “No, Mama. I’m not dating any one.”

  “Well then, maybe you could move back home. You don’t have anything to go back to. Plus, we would all love to spend more time with you and get to know you all over again.”

  Looking at the longing on my mother’s face almost makes me want to give in, but I know better.

  “Mama, I have a life back in Chicago.”

  I ignore my sister’s snort. I’m use to Maya being the opinionated outspoken one of the family. She’s never sugar coated anything and was always quick to call out the truth in a situation, but I have the feeling she is being exceptionally catty right now. And although Maya hasn’t changed, she might find the carefree little sister that once laughed off her comments and insults, has grown claws.

  “Nessa, don’t pressure her.” My dad’s weak voice says. “Let’s just enjoy her while she’s here.”

  “I know. I’m just so glad my baby is home.” My mom wipes at a wayward tear as it tracks down her face.

  “Where are you staying?” Langston asked.

  “At our house, of course.” Mom immediately answers for me.

  After two years in Chicago, Sean met a really nice guy and moved back to South Carolina. He was now living only an hour away from Richland and had offered me a place to stay with him while I was in town.

  “Actually, Sean and Miguel offered their guestroom.”

  “No!” my father says adamantly.

  I was very close to reminding him that I was no longer a child, and that he didn’t get to tell me what to do. But again, I swallow the urge down. He is recovering from a heart attack.

  “And why not?”

  “I go home tomorrow, I want you there with me.”

  I guess I couldn’t be angry with that, but if I was going to stay with my parents, now was the time to let them know of my changes.

  “Actually, Dad, I have a bit of a situation.”

  “I knew it!” My sister interrupts with a laugh.

  My head turns to her.

  “You knew what?”

  “I knew something was up the moment I saw you. I was wondering why you would come back now after all these years.”

  For the third time I find myself fighting the urge to really show my family who I am now.

  Be patient, Zora.

  “I’m back because daddy had a heart attack.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Maya!” Marcus and Langston shout at the same time.

  “Maya Renee, now you stop this right now.” My dad commands.

  Maya stands to her feet and folds her arms over her chest. “No! I’m going to be the voice of reason as always. Zora left eight years ago with no communication. She didn’t come back for our graduation or Lang’s wedding. She didn’t call or send a card for the birth of his sons. But now she comes because Daddy had a heart attack? Where were you when he stopped eating after you left? Where was your concern when he had to see someone for depression or when he almost lost the practice for lack of interest in anything other than his precious lost Zora? Where were you then?”

  The room is completely silent. I can feel the anger vibrating through me as I try not to drag my sister across this hospital room.

  She smiles as if she thinks she’s got me figured out. “So what is it Zora, is it money you want? I took one look at you in your cheap clothes and worn out shoes and I knew you weren’t doing anything with your life. Is it drugs that kept you away so long? I always knew that free spirit would get you caught up. Well, no one here is going to give you any money.”

  “Fuck you, Maya.” My words seem to catch my sister off guard. Better my words than my hand. “I don’t need your money.”

  “Obviously that’s a lie.”

  “Oh, so you looked at my cheap clothes and just assumed that I came to beg.” I slowly stand to my feet. “You want to know what I’ve been doing for eight years. Surviving. Taking care of my decisions. I don’t need a damn thing from you or anyone in this room. You know why, because when I did need you, every single one of you turned your backs on me.”

  “Oh. My. God. Is this about that damn boy again? Have you noticed that he has moved on with his life? He’s engaged. Getting rid of that baby was the best thing that happened to him.”

  I’m going to jail today!

  “ENOUGH!” My father shouts just as a timid knock sounds at the door.

  “Come in.” My mother calls out.

  The nice nurse with the beautiful dreads steps through the door. Her eyes scan the room until she finds me.

  “Should I come back?”

  “No!” I say, gathering my purse from the floor where I dropped it. “I was just leaving anyway.”

  “Zora, No!” My mom whines.

  “Don’t do this.” Langston pleads.

  “Let her go. Who leaves for eight years with no other explanation than ‘I needed to think’?”

  “Mommy, are you alright?”

  All eyes turn to the door at the sound of my daughter’s voice.

  The reason I ran all those years ago is standing in front of them. My secrets out. I never got the abortion. The last time I was in front of my parents they called my unborn child an abomination. They made it well known they didn’t want her around. As the child that I decided to keep stands in the doorway and looks back at me, I can’t help but wonder what they must think. Peyton is my world and if they can’t accept her, they can’t accept me. If their attitudes hasn’t changed, this will be a very short visit. I wanted time to tell them about Peyton so I could gauge their reaction. I will not tolerate anyone saying anything hurtful about my daughter in front of her, but I guess I don’t have time now. Now my concern is getting her out of here.

  My Mother, the first to realize what she is seeing, gasp.

  I turn to my sister with rage in my eyes, “That is my explanation.” I grab my daughter’s hand and head for the door.

  “Zora wait!”

  I was going to ignore my brother. I wanted to call Sean and have him pick me up, or take me back to the bus station. But instead, I stop.

  “Don’t run, please. Not again.”

  Chapter Four

  S ometimes the life of a football star is overwhelming. Today is one of those days. My agent was able to set me up for some quality time with the kids on the children’s ward at my hometown hospital. Though I loved doing things like this; reading to the kids and tossing the football around, I hated to do this for publicity. Thankfully the kids had no idea and just enjoyed hanging out with me. I am supposed to wait around for a little while longer to do an interview for a sports magazine. They’re going to get photos of me donating money to the hospital. I needed to take a break. With everyone vying to get my attention and reporters flashing cameras, the kids needed to get some rest and I was becoming a hindrance. So here I am, in a pr
ivate waiting room trying to catch my breath.

  I freeze when the door to the waiting room opens. A nurse and a little girl walks in.

  “Can you stay right here until I take you to your mom?” the nurse asks.

  The little girl nods her head and takes a seat near the door. The nurse walks out without even glancing in my direction. That kind of irritates me. She didn’t even check to see who she was leaving the little girl with. I’m sitting four chairs down from this kid. I could have been a pedophile.

  I watch the little girl dig into her zebra print book bag that’s placed at her feet. I wait for her to pull out her electronic device like most kids her age. I am completely shocked when, instead of a tablet, she pulls out a book. She cracks the book open and pulls her legs into her seat sitting like a kindergartner. For no known reason, I find myself smiling at this.

  I’m not sure why I find this little girl so interesting. I like kids. I always have. Probably because I shared my bedroom with my little nephew for three years. But, I have never found a child this interesting. Maybe it is because she seems so self-sufficient. The moment the nurse brought her in she stopped to access her surroundings. She noticed me right away, and with a quick analyzation she must have written me off as a non-threat. Without having to be told or watched, she quietly sat down and entertained herself. I spent all day yesterday with my 12 year old and 8 year old nephews, and neither of them sat down this quietly the entire day. Maybe that is what compels me to watch her. Or, it could be this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I’ve seen this kid before. Something about her is familiar. It isn’t just her striking eyes that are almost identical to mine except for the darker shades of gold. There is something else. She must have felt my eyes on her because she looks up at me, our matching eyes locking on to each other. For a moment I’m suspended in time. Her gaze freezing up my thoughts, when I realized I’ve stared too long for it to be comfortable, I smile only slightly easing my awkwardness. She hesitantly sends me a smile back, and I’m immediately thrown, like a perfectly tossed spiral ball into the hands of the wide receiver, down memory lane.

 

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