by Tiya Rayne
It was my first day in first grade. I was nervous and a little angry. I watched all the kids with their parents, giving hugs and wishing them well on their first day. My pop was too drunk to get out the bed that morning. My mom was too busy cussing him out after finding out he had slept with yet another one of her co-workers. They had a full-out fight that morning while I made myself stale cereal for breakfast. My sister was already in middle school and was practically raising herself, but I still wanted and needed just a little of my parents time and attention. But there I stood, in the front of the classroom, in old pants that were torn at the knees and a shirt that I plucked off my bedroom floor that morning.
I found my seat easily. The teacher had placed our desk in sets of two’s. I was sitting beside a girl with beautiful dark brown skin, the color of brownies. She even smelled like something sweet. I later discovered it was the products she used in her hair. I sat down in my seat trying not to let any of my dirty things touch her stuff. She looked so pretty in her crisp white shirt and pleated plaid skirt. Her hair reminded me of cotton candy. She had two ponytails that looked like small afros they were so full and thick. I looked down at her desk in front of her and read the name, Zora written on her Barbie notebook. I thought, pretty name for a pretty girl. I figured a girl like her wouldn’t want to talk to me, but I was surprised when she turned in her seat with the most beautiful smile on her face.
“Hello! My name is Zora Nicole Henderson. What’s your name?”
I couldn’t even respond to her question, I was so caught up in her smile. Small white teeth with one missing front tooth behind full lips. A dimple on each cheek that sunk in so deep I could put a finger in the indentions. Instead of saying something like a normal person, I said the first thing that came to my mind.
“You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.” To this day that comment has remained true. I have never seen anyone whose smile has been better than Zora’s.
Until today, when a random little girl gives me a smile so reminiscent of Zora’s, that I reply to her the same way I did that day in first grade.
“You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.”
My statement gets a full laugh from her, her face lights up. She really was a gorgeous little girl. Skin the color of coffee with heavy cream and golden brown hair that falls in deep waves down her back. A few sprinkles of freckles smattered over the bridge of her nose and those doe-shaped golden hazel eyes. I feel sorry for her father, he’s going to need an entire armory when she gets old enough to date.
“Thank you!” she replies to my compliment. “I’m Peyton.”
“Luke.” I say, holding out a hand for her to shake. “I like your name.” She reaches across the seats and shake my hand briefly.
“My dad named me.” Her smile dims slightly when she mentions this.
“Is he a Colts or Broncos fan?” I ask with Peyton Manning in mind.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. He left before I was born. My mommy says he had something important to do and he had to go away.”
Immediately I was pissed off. That sounded like a lie. Why would someone lie to this little girl? Obviously her father wanted nothing to do with her, and her mother is just covering up for the asshole. It’s men like that that give all men a bad name. How can anyone create a child, someone that is a part of them, and they not want to be in their kid’s life. I can’t fathom having a child and not being there for them every step of the way. The thought that I had that chance once but it was ripped away from me lingers in my mind like a dark cloud. I will never hold it against Zora for making that decision. Even though I wanted my child more than anything, it was her body that would have to go through the changes. I had no right to demand that she keep my kid.
Zora disappeared after she got the abortion. I often wonder what happened to her. Whenever I do, I remind myself that she dropped me.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I simply say to the little girl.
I really was sorry.
“Are you here to see someone too?” She asks tilting her head to the side slightly the way I use to do when I was curious about something as a kid.
I chuckle at how the action reminds me of myself. “No. I’m not here seeing anyone. I was doing ……a favor.” I say as the best explanation to why I’m sitting in a hospital on a Saturday afternoon. “What about you? Are you visiting someone?”
“My mommy’s dad had a heart attack.”
“That’s too bad.”
“It’s ok, I just found out about him.”
Her reply leaves me at a loss for words. I decide to change the subject.
“So what are you reading there?” I point to the book in her hand.
She looks down at the book and smiles again, but it’s nothing compared to that first smile. I promise myself that I will get that smile back before we part ways.
“It’s a collection of Poems by Langston Hughes.”
“Bring me all of your dreams,
You dreamers,
Bring me all of your
Heart melodies
That I may wrap them
In a blue cloud-cloth
Away from the too-rough fingers
Of the world.”
“The Dream Keeper.” She says and that dazzling smile is back on her face. “You know Langston Hughes?”
“Yeah, I know his work. That’s my favorite poem.” I didn’t tell her that I knew that poem because the love of my life would recite it as I laid my head in her lap while she ran her hands through my hair. Whenever I would start to doubt that my dreams would come to past, Zora would lay my head in her lap and recite that poem with a few others.
“That’s one of my mama’s favorites too. My favorite is “Quiet Girl”.”
“I would liken you to a night without stars were it not for your eyes…” I say reciting the first line of the poem.
I’m rewarded with that dazzling smile again.
“So you like poetry?” I ask, keeping the conversation flowing. I enjoyed talking to her and found myself interested in her story.
“Yeah, but I’ll read just about anything. Mommy says that when I was a baby, I would only fall asleep if she was reading me a book.”
The look that crosses her face when she speaks about her mother is pure admiration. There was no mistaking this kid loved her mother, and with her father being absent, I imagine her mother is all she knows.
“What about you, do you like to read?”
I laugh slightly and rub the back of my neck. “Can’t say I do.” I was never great at school. I maintained a C-average and maybe if I had put more effort I could have gotten better grades. However, a C-average was all I needed to qualify for college to play football.
“I’ve always been more interested in sports growing up.”
Her eyes light up when I mention sports. “Really? What’s your favorite?”
“I like them all, but I guess football is my favorite.”
“American Football?”
I laugh. “Yes, American Football. Are you a Soccer fan?”
“Mi tío José is. He watches all the games.”
Apparently there is some Hispanic heritage in her background. I had already assumed that she was biracial, but I had no idea which ethnicities she shared. Maybe, Hispanic and African American? There was definitely African – American in her background.
“Mommy is a football fan. She’s always watching the games in her bedroom. She tells people she isn’t a fan, but I know she watches it.”
“What’s her favorite team?”
“I don’t know.”
I was about to tell her who I was, and that maybe her mom would know me. I mean I am Luke Trent, Super Bowl Champion and Quarterback for the San Diego Cougars, who doesn’t know me? However, the nurse that brought her in earlier came back to get her.
“Ready to go? Your mom should be ready for you by now.”
I hate the frown that mar the girl’s face. It tugs at
my heart. I never want to see her frown. That thought causes me to shake my head.
Peyton packs her bag, placing her book back down in her book bag, then stands to leave.
“It was nice meeting you, Peyton.” I call out to her. For the first time the nurse notices me, her eyes widen with recognition.
“Oh My Goodness, you’re Luke Trent.” The nurse gushes.
I barely acknowledge her as I keep my eyes on Peyton. I had this strange feeling like I didn’t want her to go. Maybe it was because she reminded me of the child I never got to know. Would mine and Zora’s daughter have looked like this? Golden brown skin with my eyes and Zora’s smile. Peyton could have easily been our child, but that was taken from me. Maybe that is the reason I’m fighting myself from begging this kid to stay and hang out a little longer.
“Bye, Mr. Trent.” She says with a thin smile, then walks out of the door.
“I have to get your autograph when I come back, my husband will never believe this.” The nurse states.
I nod at her then drop my head back onto my chair. Maybe it was a bad idea to come home. I’ve thought more about Zora since I’ve been here than I ever had before. Too many memories, good and bad. Then that age old question comes to mind, I wonder what she’s doing now? Yeah, coming home was probably not the best idea.
Chapter Five
I watch my daughter eat her lunch a few tables away from me. She laughs at something my brother’s wife says. I smile. I live for Peyton’s laughter. I long for her smiles. She is my world. The moment I realized I was pregnant, I knew that I would see my child into this world. There was never a thought that I wasn’t going to have her. Many plans changed after finding out I was pregnant, but that never did. Now when I watch her, it hurts so bad to see how much she looks like Luke. They have the same eyes, only hers has darker shades of gold and green. They share the exact same nose and ears, and both have that affable personality. She is so much like her father that at times I find myself watching her thinking of how great they would have been together. But, I made a decision that night that Luke Trent was going to get that dream he always wanted.
“Zora, are you listening?”
I cut my eyes back to my table. I’m seated with my sister, brother, mother, and brother-in-law. They’re all looking expectantly at me. They are waiting for me to tell them what happened all those years ago.
I close my eyes, and then sigh long and hard before I begin my story. “I never intended to abort Peyton.” I look to my mother whose face is crunched up in confusion. “Remember how I begged you not to come back to the room with me?” Mama nods. “Well that’s why. As soon as the nurse took me back to that room, I explained to her that I wasn’t getting rid of the baby. The nurse explained the situation to the doctor and they let me hangout in the operating room until enough time had passed. They told me how proud they were of my decision and they wished me well.” I shrug.
“What about the money Mommy and Daddy paid for that procedure?” Maya asks.
“Mom paid in cash. She said she didn’t want anything like that showing up on her credit card. So, the nurse gave me the money back. I figured that was atonement for all the shit I went through.” I say irritably.
“No one cares about the money.” Langston argues. “Keep going.”
I roll my eyes at my sister’s sullen look. “Any way. You guys know what happened after that. I’d already bought a bus ticket and had my bags packed. That next night when everyone went to bed, I snuck out and caught the bus to Sean’s. The day Daddy called Sean, we knew that eventually he would come looking for me. Sean had thought about moving to the city for a while, so we took my money and his and rented a crappy apartment on the south side of Chicago. That’s pretty much it.”
I left off a lot, like how much we struggled that first year. How we slept in his car for weeks before we could find a place. How someone broke into our apartment while Peyton and I slept. One time, when it got really bad and Peyton was just a few months old, the power was turned off. Sean took Peyton and I to a shelter for the night while he slept in a cold apartment. I told him I would have stayed with him but he refused to let Peyton stay in the cold. I remember lying on that hard cot, staring at the disgusting walls of that shelter and crying silently. I made a promise to my sleeping baby that I would never allow anything like this to happen again. I kept my promise. Things never got as bad as that first year again, but it was still no walk in the park. I sometimes still struggle to make ends meet. However, one thing is for sure, Peyton has never slept in the cold and she has never gone without a roof over her head since that night in the shelter. I work my fingers to the bone so that she will have the basic things in life. She may not have all the things that I had as a child, but I make sure she has the things she needs.
I don’t tell my family this. They don’t need to know the struggles I went through. Because, although they were right about how being a mom at the age of 18 would be difficult, I still would have made the same choice. Keeping Peyton was not a decision. The moment she came into existence she was my responsibility.
“How have you been surviving?” Langston asks alarmed.
“Just fine.” I answer quickly, maybe too quickly.
Lang grits his teeth.
“You’re a single mother with only a high school education, and you work as a waitress. Unless you are leaving out something, there is no way you are just fine.” Leave it to my sister to punch the holes in my story.
“What do you want, Maya?” I can’t help the snippiness in my voice. “You want me to tell you about my struggles? You want me to break down and tell you how hard it’s been? Forget it, it won’t change anything. Was it hard? Hell yes. But I survived.”
There is nothing but tense silence between us. I glance over at my daughter and she’s watching me. She’s too far off to hear us, but she can see the distress on my face. I force a smile and she gives me one in return. She then turns back to Kyra and starts talking. My sister-in-law is a godsend, she immediately volunteered to entertain my daughter while I talked to my family.
“What about him?” Lang asks, and I didn’t need to ask him who he was referring to.
I turn back to my table twirling the paper to my straw around my finger aimlessly. I’m trying to decide how I’m going to tell them about my sacrifice.
“What about him?” Is my lame attempt to waste time.
“Where does he come in? Has he not paid child support?”
“No.”
“Are you serious?” Lang’s voice is louder than necessary.
“How is that possible?” My mother asks.
I look at my sister who continues to stare at me with that suspicious look in her eyes. I wonder does she know that it was her words that led me to my decision. Looking at her now, she doesn’t give anything away.
I turn back to my mother as I answer her question. “I told him the same thing I told everyone else. Luke has no idea Peyton exist.”
“Let me get this straight, you’ve been struggling and raising a kid on your own while he’s living it up? And not once did you think to tell him so that he could help?”
If he says it like that it sounded bad, but Langston didn’t understand that I brought this all on myself. If I had told Luke that I was keeping the baby, it would have been the both of us struggling to survive. Maybe my decision didn’t make sense to everyone else, but to me it was the only outcome. Although it hurts to see his face everywhere, not one time have I ever been jealous of his success. To this day I wish Luke Trent nothing but the best.
“It was my decision.”
“Honey,” My mom says reaching her hand across the table to touch my arm gently. “You have to tell him.”
“No!” I pull away from her touch.
“She can’t tell him now, too much time has passed. He’d probably be livid, maybe even sue her.” Marcus says.
I had never even considered that. Don’t know what he would sue me for. The most expensive thing I have is my ca
mera, and even that’s second hand.
“I doubt he would sue her. I mean look at her, she has nothing.” My sister points out. “But he would probably take Peyton away from her. He has the means.”
My blood runs cold. Would Luke do that?
“Let him try. I’d take her case, and when I’m done with him he’ll be paying out the ass in child support. Hell, I got some friends that are so good in cases like these, they could even get you back pay.”
“You should call them.” My mom directs Lang.
“No, don’t call.”
“Best to do it now, before this gets out of hand.” Maya adds.
“I said don’t call.”
Langston pulls out his phone completely ignoring my protest. “We should write down her story. Maybe get pictures of her living conditions.”
“That’s a great idea, Lang. Really work that impoverished single mom angle.”
Slamming my hands down on the table to get everyone’s attention I growl, “I said No!”
All heads turn to me.
“Let’s get something straight. I am no longer that seventeen year old girl that left here eight years ago. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’ve been in control of my life for a long time now. I’ve had to make really tough decisions, including leaving Luke out of Peyton’s life. I do not want his money. I do not care if you don’t agree. This is my decision. Do you understand?”
“Zora, sweetie, you need….”
“Do. You. Understand? You tell me now that you can follow my wishes or Peyton and I are gone.”
“Ok, alright!” my mom is the first to concede. Slowly everyone falls in line.
I know they didn’t understand my choice to keep Luke out of this, but it was my decision and I wasn’t backing down now. I wanted Luke to have everything he ever wanted. He deserved all of his success. Without my sacrifice it wouldn’t have happened. I would never take anything from Luke because he has already given me the best thing I could have ever asked for. Peyton.
“Well, I need to go pick up some grocery if you guys are going to stay with us.” My mom says pulling out her phone to start a list.