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“I’m fine. School is fine.” That was all I could give her.
“O…okay. See you later. Love you.”
I had no response for the statement. Did I love her? Of course, I did. She was still my mother, but could I say it? Did my love for her outshine the pain of what I perceived to be a major betrayal? No. So in response to her declaration, I made my way down those familiar steps and left.
VANN
I woke up the day after my father’s visit with a familiar feeling clinging to every cell in my body. It was the feeling of the walls closing in on me, of cloying restlessness.
It was time to run.
The only issue was I’d been using one of my mother’s two vehicles to get around in. I’d flown to Tennessee from where I’d been staying in California and rented a car to drive to Guilty. The rental was turned in months ago. So, I didn’t have a car, but Ihadto go.
After throwing a few of my clothes in a bag, I headed downstairs. My mom was already up. Sometimes I seriously wondered if she ever slept at all. I asked her about it once, and she’d assured me that she got her rest but rose when the ancestors prompted her to.
Whatever the hell that meant.
She was in the kitchen sipping water as she faced her altar, and before I could utter a word, she said, “Take the pick-up, and call me when you get there so I’ll know you made it safely.”
She hadn’t even looked up to see that I was carrying a bag. My mother was just…I don’t even know.
“Uh…I will.” I didn’t bother to mention that I had no earthly idea where I was going, not that it really mattered. All that mattered was I was getting away from here and the possibility of seeing my father again. “Tell Rabbit I said bye and that I’ll be back. Just not sure when,” I added.
“I will,” she said, finally turning her head to look at me. “Tell everyone I said hi.”
“O…kay?”Who the hell was “everyone”?I wondered.
“Vann?”
“Ma’am?”
“I love you, and you are more than worthy of this new journey you’re about to embark on. Embrace it and enjoy it. Just this one time, let yourself feel what you need to feel. Allow your soul to open up. Don’t run, okay?”
I stared at her with a furrowed brow, a million questions forming in my mind at once, but I knew to keep them to myself because she either wouldn’t give me any answers, or she would, and I wouldn’t be able to handle them. So, I simply nodded and said, “I love you, too, Mama.” Then I left my childhood home.
CHAPTER6
BROOKLYN
Ihated school.
I mean, I really,reallyhated school. That was why I didn’t stay on the highest education train with Nadia and Sharla, who both held PhDs. I enjoyed learning, but I never liked being stuck in classrooms all day or the stress and pressure of maintaining a certain GPA to keep my many scholarships. I wasn’t as smart as my friends and nowhere near as driven. They craved success and accomplishment. I craved security. I desired a life vastly different from the one I’d lived growing up in the ghetto, and I was convinced I’d only find it the way my mother did, by opening my heart and legs to a man of means.
Nevertheless, I was here in the middle of my graduate level African Musicology class trying to keep my heavy eyelids open. It wasn’t that Dr. Klein wasn’t a good teacher, and the content was very interesting. I just didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want more education. I didn’t want to owe a loan balance again. Shit, on the real, I missed being a rich man’s wife.
There, I admitted it.
Nonetheless, that admission did not mean I held the same philosophy I had in years past. I no longer believed a rich husband could solve all my problems. My stupid action of infidelity and a few therapy sessions had made that very clear. I was in charge of my destiny. I could take care of myself and pull myself up to where I desired to be just like I was responsible for my downfall.
I just didn’t fucking want to.
That was why I was three years into graduate school but nowhere near finishing. I’d been taking one course per semester because, as I said, I didn’t want to do this shit. I had to, though, for Bailey if for no other reason. My little girl would not grow up fighting roaches and fearing rats. She wouldn’t know what it was to live in a food desert or to fall asleep to the sound of gun shots. Her father afforded her luxury. I couldn’t necessarily do that, but I could give her safety and peace. I was determined to.
“I was hopingyou’d wander over here tonight after your class. It’s always so good to see you, honey,” Britta declared, pulling me into a warm embrace. She smelled as good as she looked in a gorgeous white dress. As always, her makeup was just as flawless as her smile. “Have a seat. What you drinking?”
“A virgin daiquiri. I’ve gotta drive home,” I informed her.
Taking a seat across from me at a table in the middle of the small nightclub, she summoned a waitress, Kam, and placed my order. I knew Kam just like I knew Leo, the bartender, and the myriad entertainers that graced the stage here. Since my divorce and especially during my estrangement from Nadia and Sharla—a result of me screwing my marriage up and taking it out on them verbally—this place had become a second home for me. Essentially, anywhere Britta inhabited was my safe place. But then again, that had been her position in my life for as long as I’d allowed it.
