Coveted (8 page)

The door opens, and immediately my car is consumed by the smell of Chanel No.5 perfume. Amber loves Chanel No.5. I have bought her numerous bottles since we have begun dating.

“
Hi handsome,” she says as she enters the Denali and places a kiss on my cheek.

“
Hi yourself.” I say to her, “You are looking mighty good this evening.” And she really did look good. Amber had on an ivory and grey Vera Wang dress, straight from the runway, that clutched each of her dramatically-emphasized curves, and flowed like the wind. I see that she was going to make it very difficult to say goodbye to her, but no matter how good she looks, it has to happen.

“
Why thank you Mr. Collins! I always aim to please,” she says in a soft, sultry voice.

“
That you do rather well Miss; rather well indeed.”

“
So where are you taking me tonight? You’ve been so secretive lately.”

“
I thought that we would have a night cap by the Washington Harbor at Sequoia.”

“
Mmmm…. That sounds wonderful, being on the waterfront with you, listening to jazz. I cannot wait”

I glance at her and, once again, my thoughts drift to Naima. I wonder what she is doing right now and if she is feeling better. She is probably running around chasing after her two children. That’s a problem I would love to have one day.

As we are pulling into the parking garage, I try to think of what approach I am going to take during dinner to deliver the news to Amber that our courtship has ended. Amber, by no means, is a pushover, and the news I am about to give her will be a devastating blow - To both her ego, and any future illusions, she may have been harboring about the two of us.

We walk into Sequoia and the host proceeds to take us to a corner outside on the balcony, which I requested when I placed the reservation, so that we would be able to have more privacy.

“
Damir, it is so nice out here. Look at the water and the lights.”

“
I take it you love the spot I chose.”

“
Oh I love it. I love you,” she says breathlessly.

Thank goodness, the waiter chose that moment to appear. I may be many things, but a liar I am not, and her professing her love for me made me uncomfortable.

We placed our orders; since we frequent Sequoia often, we already knew what we wanted. As soon as the waiter left, Amber was posed and ready to start firing the questions away.

“
I said I love you. Why didn’t you say it back?”

“
Because the waiter came over and interrupted us.”

“
Oh.” a beat passes, “Well the waiter is not here now.” She raises her eyebrow expectedly waiting for my response.

“
Actually Amber, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“
You wanted to talk about how much you love me?” she says as she gives a slight smile.

I clear my throat and swallow audibly under her piercing gaze.

“
I’ve been thinking that you and I aren’t really all that compatible and maybe we have reached a stalemate. Instead of fighting to bring something into existence, that is not meant to be, maybe we should let it go.”

Whoever said that breaking up is hard to do, was grossly understated. I could see the hurt beginning to display on her face and damn if I did not want to hold her and take the pain away, but I stood my ground. Reality is reality; the relationship was not working for me.

She looked me right in my eyes and I could see the tears forming and preparing to fall. Then she spoke so softly I almost could not hear her.

“
Why?” she asked me.

I do not know what to say, or even where to begin.

“
Amber,” I reach across the table and take her hand. “I think that you are an amazing woman it’s just that we want different things out of life.”

“
What’s so different? We are both goal-oriented, want the finer things in life and we both want to get married one day. We have fun whenever we are together, and I never crowd your space and try to take over all of your time. So please explain to me what went wrong?”

“
It boils down to the fact that we lack any connection other than physical. When I get married, I want the universe, not just the moon and the stars. I want children, something that you have made quite clear, time and time again, that you do not want. I want it all and I won’t settle.”

“
So now you think you’d be settling if you married me?”

“
Amber, I think that you are going to make a great wife to some guy one day. I just do not believe I am that guy. I want you to be happy, and me wanting children and you wanting it to be just the two of us, is going to cause major friction between us. So I say let’s be rational adults and end this as friends.”

“
Friends?” she gives a short tortured laugh. “I want to marry you and you just want us to be friends? You know what’s funny?” she asks. “I thought you were bringing me out here tonight to propose. I cannot believe I had it all so misconstrued. My love for you does not count for anything. Or will I just be left in the dark to pick up the pieces?”

“
Amber I do love you, but I know that if we try to merge our two worlds it will be a recipe for disaster. That is why I am trying to do the right thing by you and let you go, so you can be free to find exactly what you are looking for.”

The waiter chose that moment to return with our meals. Thank God for the little things. I needed some sort of distraction from this conversation.

“
I’m no longer hungry. If it’s all the same to you I’d like to be taken home now.”

“
You don’t want to stay and have dinner?” I ask her.

“
I’d rather not. This conversation has caused me to lose my appetite and I would rather leave.”

“
Fair enough,” I say and turn to the waiter, “Could you package our food to go and bring the check please?”

Once we were out of the restaurant and walking toward the car, I looked over at Amber and she is very distant, as if in her own world. On the ride home, she did not utter one word. I have never known her be so quiet. Amber loves to talk. It is a part of who she is.

When I pulled in front of her house as she reached for the door handle and was about to get out of the truck she finally spoke.

“
Damir I do love you and I don’t give up so easily. We’ll meet again.” Then she was gone. Her presence, nothing more than a memory I could hold on to.

I had survived the night. Letting go is never easy. I don’t know why women assume that just because men break up with them that we don’t experience a sense of loss also. Men can just handle the situation better, and do not let our emotions get the best of us. But it sure did feel good to be free again, even if just for a short while.

Emeri 7

My life is out of order and I cannot begin to think of a way to make it right again. Nothing will ever be
the same. I am a lost soul in search of myself, is what my Mama always says about me. Sometimes I agree with her, but there are many more times that I blame her. I blame her for me growing up without a father, but then I respect her for being able to raise me by herself and make it work. I basically live in a world of confusion where I am trying to discover who I am and what I represent. I feel as if I must be the most displaced 24-year-old in the world, and there is no one to help place me on solid ground. Some days I am angry with myself for blaming my mother, especially now while she is going through so much. I’m going through a lot too. I’m the one that will be left alone in the world with no one to love and care about me. I am suffering too, maybe not physically like Mama, but definitely emotionally. I am angry with her. I am angry with myself. Most importantly, I am angry with God, for letting me go through such trauma in my life and making my mama suffer so much, as if her life wasn’t hard enough. Now, as an adult, I realize that
one of the hardest things in the world is watching your mother die slowly, and know there is nothing
you can do to help save her. My mama was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the doctors say that there is nothing else that can be done for her. They have given her less than a month to live, and she has chosen to spend her last days at home, for which I am grateful because, I get to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves me. She has been battling cancer for almost five years, and I have to give her credit, she has fought it as long and hard as she could, but it refuses to go away.

My Mama has always been a fighter. She survived getting pregnant with me at 19, and having my father walk out on her. She survived raising a half Black, half Puerto Rican baby on her own, when her family disowned her for getting pregnant by a married Black man. She survived working long days and nights so that we had food and shelter. There is no one that I admire more than her. She can take on anything and come out victorious, everything but cancer. My heart breaks a little more every time I look at her. I do not know what my life is going to be like without her in it. She is the only family that I have. She accepts me as I am.

I knock gently as I am about to enter her room, and push the door open.

“
Buenos dias
Mama.”

“
Mi Amor
,” she says in a faint tone as she attempts to sit up.

“No Mama, you don’t have to get up for me. Lie down, get your rest.”

“I’ll have plenty of time to rest when I’m dead. Right now, I want to sit up. I’m still living you know.”

“I know Mama,” I say as I help bring her to a sitting position. “I just don’t want you to over exert yourself, is all.”

“Emeri, baby thank you for being concerned but I am fine. I need you to do something for me. I want you to go to the attic and get my trunk. It should be in the far corner under a blue blanket. There are some things that I would like to go over with you, something that I should have done years ago.”

I give her a strange look and head for the attic. I have no idea what trunk she is talking about. I have never seen a trunk. I pull down the attic stairs and proceed inside. I hate our attic. It is somewhat creepy. I always feel as if something is going to jump out at me from the shadows at any given moment. I reach down to my waist, damn I forgot my flashlight. I take a quick glance around and see a mountain of stuff in the corner, still no trunk though. I walk swiftly to the corner where the pile is, and begin to move stuff out of the way. Finally, I see a blue blanket, and as I lift it, a big cloud of dust attacks me. My eyes immediately begin to water and I cough. I have to get out of here so I can breathe. I try to lift the trunk, but it is almost twice my weight. My mama is smaller than I am, so I have no idea how she was able to get this thing up here in the first place. I push it to the door of the attic and get in front of it as I slide it down the stairs.

“Mama what do you have in this thing?” I ask her as I am dragging it into her bedroom.

“Memories. Memories of a life I tried to forget and one that I would like for you to now embrace.”

I look at her confused. What in the world, is she talking about? I wonder if her illness is making her delirious.

“Mama you are not making any sense. I do embrace my life.”

“Child I know you smarter than you look. Bring that trunk over here to me and, then look inside the top drawer in my dresser and bring me that ring of keys.”

I go get the keys and bring them to her.

“Come sit next to me. I want to show you some things.”

I do as she tells me and have a seat on the bed next to her. She selects a key and tells me to open the trunk. I open the trunk and see a lot of old photos and documents.

“What’s all this stuff?” I ask.

“It’s information about your father and his family.”

I stop and drop the keys.

“What?” I whisper.

“Your father, you did have one of those you know.”

“Why would you be giving me information about my father? As far as I am concerned, I do not have one. Someone that leaves a pregnant woman behind loses the privilege of being called a father.”

“Emeri, I know you’re upset but I really want you to get to know him and to understand what happened between us all those years ago.”

“Mama what is there to know? He left. He knew you were pregnant and he left anyway. He never reached out to give you support. He had to know that you were struggling and that your family disowned you.”

She looks off to the far right and takes some time to answer. When she finally turns to me, I notice that her eyes are glistening with tears that I know she will never shed for a life that she never got the chance to live.

“Actually, he didn’t know. I never told him that my family disowned me or that I was financially unstable. I told him that I miscarried.”