Jaded 2: Broken Love Series (3 page)

I’d been going to work and coming straight home for the past two weeks. Today, Charity and Marcus followed me, determined to pull me out my funk and make sure I handle my business. They didn’t even understand why I’d went to work today. They’d taken the day off so they could prepare. We were all supposed to drive to Detroit so I could go to court Monday and sign my divorce papers. Mr. Barish didn’t have to appear, but he was even flying out as back-up and support. Everyone seemed to be ready for my marriage to end. I was too, but now that the time had come upon me, it felt very shallow. Before, I felt all I needed to become independent was to be rid of Shane. Now, I was about to be free and it didn’t feel anything like I thought it would. I thought this archetypal weight would be lifted. Redemption didn’t seem so sweet when Shane was struggling. I couldn’t revel in his misery – even after all he’d done to me.

Charity and Marcus are literally following me through my condo as I sling my clothes off, leaving a trail from the living room to my bedroom. I hope once I reach my bedroom, I’m indecent enough to scare them off. I was down to my thong and bra and had no such luck. Marcus didn’t even shriek and look away when I tossed my bra, almost hitting him in the face with it. Rolling my eyes, I head for my bathroom and begin to run my bath.

“Girl, I know you don’t think your little titties were going to run me off. It’ll take more than that. Besides, I’ve seen better.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes again. I had a perfect pair of 36 C’s. He needs to quit playing. Gay or not, he knows he’s impressed.

“You’re not getting rid of us, Laurie. We let you sulk for two weeks. It stops today. I want my funny perky Laurie on this long ass car ride to Detroit,” I heard Charity mumble with her voice trailing away, as I’m sure she’s finding her way into my kitchen. I’d been bringing them food to work, and all it did was cause her to act like a stray cat. I’d been cooking like a mad woman. It was one of the few things I could do to take my mind off of Troy. I hadn’t been able to eat much, but I’d been cooking enough for an army.

I hadn’t allowed myself to cry since Troy dropped me off. He gave me that weak bullshit about being friends. Well, my friend hadn’t called me and I refuse to call him. He was the one who broke if off with me. Even though I messed up, I wasn’t about to kiss his ass. I’d done enough of that in his kitchen. I felt stupid and humiliated. I’d put it all on the line, told him I love him, and he still put me in the friend zone. Then, oh…God…I mean, what the hell was I thinking running out of his house the way I did? I almost couldn’t blame him for not calling. I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy.

After my attempt to hide out in the bathroom as long as possible, I find Charity and Marcus perched on the bench at the foot of my bed with their arms crossed.

“Come on, ya’ll cut it out. I’m not about to slit my wrist or anything.” I walk across my room and snatch my lotion off my dresser, then plop down in the middle of them. I begin to put on this new fresh scent lotion that I fell in love with. I swear, this lotion puts me in a happy place, though lately that place has been short lived. I’d been trying to do things that brought me joy. I couldn’t believe how bad I felt over a man that I’d only known a few months, and had an even shorter sexual relationship with. I’d never mourned the loss of Shane. With him, I just grieved the loss of familiarity.

Ah, Shane; the man that I was still allowing to affect my new beginning. The man who was blowing up my phone that night because he just had to tell me how he won at the casino, but didn’t take a drink. That’s what caused Troy to find out my secret. Shane felt he’d reached some type of breakthrough, when he shouldn’t have been in the casino at all. Shane didn’t even realize that he was in the pattern of his typical behavior. Though he was talking to his therapist, he still refused to take his medication, saying he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.

Shane thought my annoyance with him the next day came from him gambling, when I could care less; his gambling wasn’t my problem anymore. I was pissed because I didn’t have anyone else besides myself to blame for ruining my relationship. I was trying to build something good with a true good guy. I wanted to pity myself and blame someone else. Since Shane was already an asshole to me so many times before, it seemed befitting that he’d play the role of asshole in this as well.

Troy deserved so much better than my omission of a very important fact. I knew Troy wasn’t the side dude type of man. He wasn’t the guy that chased other men’s’ girls. That’s the only type of man that would be okay with me still being married and talking to my ex. Things may have even played out differently if Shane’s name and number hadn’t been blaring across my screen not once, but several times until Troy turned my phone off. I knew that wouldn’t bode well. It seemed I wasn’t over him and he wasn’t over me, that maybe we’d been working on rekindling. What man would continue to pursue what he perceived as a dead end?

“So L’oriel, you’re going to sit your ass here and pretend you shouldn’t be packing? I thought we were all driving to Detroit so you could sign your divorce papers,” Charity says into her phone as she types. Suddenly, she abruptly quits typing; when some type of realization hits her, she stands up immediately. “You changed your mind, you’re getting back with Shane!” she gasped. That causes Marcus to stand and stare down at me as, if I’d had some type of repugnant carcinoma coming out the side of my face.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that ya’ll. I’m signing my papers. It just doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would.”

Marcus gave me full-on stink face. “What do you mean it doesn’t feel as good as you thought? Girl, did you forget what that man has put you through? I told you to quit talking to him. I swear, he has some weird voodoo hold on you. You need to make sure he doesn’t have your hair in a freezer some damn where.” Charity, not speaking a word, goes in my closet and pulls out my Damier Graphite canvas Louis Vuitton 55 Keepall Bandouliere, which reminded me of Troy. He didn’t say that he didn’t like my duffle bag, but he’d replaced it along with gifting me an entire matching set of Louis Vuitton luggage when he had my house furnished. I found the set sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor. When I’d finally gotten over the shock of him furnishing my house exactly how I’d described it to him over the phone, I went into my bedroom to find that the exact way I’d described as well complete with a cream fabric-upholstered headboard and matching bench at the foot of the new king sized bed, with a matching cream and gold comforter and pillows.

Though I didn’t desire for Troy to furnish my home, I was so touched by the fact that he’d listened to me—truly listened enough to visualize my vision exactly the way I saw it. The Louis Vuitton luggage was all him though. I’d never seen Louis Vuitton luggage before, let alone thought to ask for it, especially in grey and black. I wasn’t even aware that was an option.

Charity began filling the bag with my clothes, not even bothering to ask me what I wanted to take. I didn’t care anyway; I really didn’t feel like packing.

“I haven’t forgot. It’s just like kicking or punching someone who can’t fight back. It doesn’t seem as fulfilling with him going through so much. I mean, he just got over an overdose that I feel partially to blame for.” Charity dropped my bag, causing me to look up at her.

“L’oriel. You can’t be serious. Do you know you have absolutely nothing to do with Shane’s drug use? L’oriel, do you really believe you had something to do with that? Is that why you’ve been talking to him? You feel guilty?”

I nodded and played with the bottom of my terry cloth shower wrap. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I had absolutely no interest in going back to Shane, but it just didn’t feel good. He was struggling, and I seemed to be flourishing in my new environment. I didn’t have the heart to turn away from him when he seemed to need me.

“What about when his crazy ass was punching and kicking on you? L’oriel, you have to let go of this battered woman’s syndrome,” Marcus chimed in, interrupting my thoughts. “You know what, L’oriel? You’re focusing too much on relationships. You really should be focused on yourself. You’ve gotten sidetracked. When we first meet you, you were so determined to start a life for yourself without relying on a man. In such a short time, you’ve dropped your independent attitude and became totally dependent on someone else for your happiness.”

“You and Charity told me I should take his gifts.” Marcus blew out an exaggerated breath.

“L’oriel, accepting gifts or help doesn’t make you any less independent. I’m talking about you sitting around here moping and not even packing for filing for a divorce from someone who treated you horribly. You need to end your marriage, move on. QUIT TALKING TO SHANE! If things work out with Troy, fine. If not, move on. You can’t halt your life because your relationship didn’t turn out the way you thought.” Charity grabs my hands and pulls me up. “Come on Laurie. Get dressed, so we can head out.” When I let my arms dangle lifelessly at my side with my shoulders still slumped, Marcus smacks me on my butt. I give a slight yelp.

“Girl, if you don’t get that fabulous ass in high gear. I’m going to bop you over your head.”

῀

Charity and Marcus are in the front seat of Marcus’ Audi A4, chattering a mile a minute about who they’re going to see once we get back in Detroit. I don’t know any of these people they’re talking about, so I drown them out. I have on my Pink hooded sweatshirt. It’s zipped all the way up. The hood’s drawstrings are pulled as tight as they can go around my head, and I have a blanket across my lap. Marcus has the air conditioner on frostbite. He says it’s just to keep him awake. He knows Charity and I will be out shortly. I can’t even argue with logic. If I’m not driving, I’m no good in a car. After I repeatedly remind him to wake one of us up or pull over if he gets too sleepy, I put my earbuds in and put my Kanye playlist on random. Ironically, it starts off with ‘Stronger.’

When I wake, Kanye is telling me “
Fuck arguing harvesting the feelings, I'd rather be by my fucking self. Till about 2 A.M. and I call back and I hang up and start to blame myself
somebody help
.” I pull my earbuds out and see Charity has taken over driving, and has Smoky Norful’s ‘Still Say Thank You’ playing rather loudly. I couldn’t help but chuckle. This is quite the contrast to what I was listening to. Charity has it turned up loud enough that I’m surprised I didn’t hear it over my own music. She has one arm raised in praise. Charity is the funniest; this girl can go from cursing you out to praising God in a Nano second. She’s turned the air down, and now has the car at a comfortable temperature. I bet she and Marcus had an argument about it, and she now needed Jesus. When she notices me moving around in the backseat taking my hood off, she turns down the music.

“Hey, Sleepy head. Girl, you’ve been sleep almost the whole trip. You’ve got some chicken and fries in the container beside you. We tried to wake you when we stopped, but you were out cold.” Now suddenly smelling the food after she’s mentioned it, my stomach instantly feels empty. I open the container and pull out a piece of chicken.

“Where are we?” I ask, biting into the chicken that though it’s cold is quite tasty.

“Girl, Michigan,” she says, laughing at my shocked face through the rearview mirror.

“Are you serious? I slept the whole way here?” I can’t believe I’ve slept at complete 12 hours. I hadn’t been sleeping very well at night, but I didn’t think I was that tired. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite again. I didn’t mean to have my friends drive the entire way here.

“Char. I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to have you guys drive all the way. Do you need a break now? I can take over.” She shakes her head.

“Girl no, it’s no problem. I figured this is probably really emotional for you. You’re officially ending what’s been familiar to you.”

I quietly contemplate on me ending the familiarity of my relationship with Shane. I’ve been speaking with him so much lately. It doesn’t feel as much like an ending as it would have been a month ago. I’ve been good at pointing out Shane’s repetitive behavior, while ignoring my own. I’ve fallen right back into what I always do. I’ve started listening, and listening turns into me weakening. I’ve let him convince me that he’s struggling so much without me, fighting to make strides in becoming better. I’ve stepped right back into my role as the milquetoast wife, thinking he needs me in his corner to heal.

We check into our hotel room, shower, and put our clothes away. Charity and I are sharing a room, and Marcus has his own room that’s attached to ours. After we stretch out for a moment, I drive to my Grams to see her and my mother. They didn’t know I was coming; I thought it was better this way so my mother wouldn’t be able to have Shane waiting on me when I got there. I’m laughing and talking with Marcus and Charity, but my heart’s racing a mile a minute. I haven’t seen my mother and Gram since April. It’s now the beginning of August. I’ve never gone this long without seeing my family.

I pull into my Gram’s driveway. The house is still the same with white siding, a blue porch awning, and matching blue cement porch. I can’t remember this house looking any other way—besides the blue tarp that used to rest on the left side of the roof for many years, until Shane and his father replaced the roof a couple of years ago. I looked up the block towards Fitzgerald Street and saw all the overgrown grass and trees. I’d heard many stories from my Gram about growing up in the projects that used to sit there.

I see my mother’s Lexus and my Gram’s late model Explorer, which was my granddaddy’s wife’s old truck. I hate the way my Gram settles for leftovers. My Gram had been with my granddaddy for over forty years, who’d coincidentally been with his wife just as long. My grandmother had all of her children with another woman’s husband, accepted all his wife’s old cars, and anything else my granddaddy decided to bring her from his wife. She’d get just as excited as if he’d pull up in a brand new car just for her. My grandmother would often refer to my granddaddy’s wife as if she was an old friend. She’d say things like;
Rich said Carol’s getting a new car, so he’s going to give me her old one;
or
can you believe Carol’s getting new furniture already, she just got the last set. She loves spending Rich’s money.

I couldn’t understand, for the life of me, how my grandmother was so comfortable being the other woman; then on top of that, being content with receiving another woman’s hand-me-downs. But that was my Gram, the original side chick. She didn’t call or drive by his house. She never called when he was with his family. She respected the boundaries and his wife. They definitely didn’t make ‘em like Gram anymore.

Charity and Marcus trail me as I make my way through my Gram’s entryway into the living room. She has some newer furniture; that means my granddad’s wife got new furniture too, so he’d brought the old furniture to my Gram.

“Gram! Ma!” I yell out. My Gram came barreling from the kitchen.

“Bird?” She instantly grabs me and pulls me into her small frame. Her almost jet-black hair with streaks of grey is pulled to the side, and resting on her shoulder. Gram proudly wears her grey. She always says she’d earned every single strand. She couldn’t wait until she was completely white. Her toffee skin is flawless. She doesn’t have crow’s feet or laugh lines like many women her age. My Gram was in her late sixties, but you’d never know it looking at her.

She stands back to get a good look at me, with her hands resting on my shoulders. Her hazel-green eyes study me and fill with tears.

“Aw. My Baby Bird. I’ve missed you so much. Are you coming home?” her voice strains, and tears roll down her cheeks. My eyes fill with tears as well. I was raised in my Gram’s house. I went from her house to Shane’s house. Even when I lived with Shane, I could come here and find comfort with her in the kitchen helping her cook.

My Gram and my grandfather were the only two people that still called me Bird or Baby Bird; they say because when my mom brought me home from the hospital, I was so small. They’d never seen a baby born that was as small as I was. I was a preemie, having to be delivered early. My family had told me I was a twin. However, my twin died in-utero when my mother was about seven months pregnant. My mother thinks that somehow I was trying to feed her my nutrients since I had so few when I was delivered. She said she knew then I was going to be a good person, because I was willing to risk my life to save my twin. However, my mother had to have an emergency C-section to deliver me early, because my identical twin had died; had we been fraternal twins, she could have carried me to term.

“I missed you too, Gram,” I choked out. “I just came to handle some business, and then I’ll be going back.” Her eyebrows knitted together.

“Where?” I still hadn’t revealed to my family that I’d been living in Georgia. I speak to my Gram and Mother often, but I still hadn’t mentioned where I’ve been living. I just recently gave them my new phone number. I’d messed up and called Shane’s drug dealing best friend and his mother without blocking my number. Since the one person I was trying to prevent from getting my number had it, there was no point in not allowing my mother and Gram to have it.

“Atlanta. I have a place in Atlanta.” She finally looks behind me and notices Charity and Marcus.

“Are you living with your friends here?” I shook my head no.

“I have my own place, Gram. These are my friends.” I turn and introduce Charity and Marcus to my Gram.

My mother finally emerges from her room wearing distressed boyfriend shorts, and a flowy double-layer top with spaghetti straps. I’m sure it was all name brand, because she wouldn’t be Raiel if they weren’t. Her long hair is pulled into a ponytail, showing off her high cheek bones, and adding to her youthful appearance. My mother had a beautiful coffee complexion with a drop of cream, and large bedroom eyes that were the same shade as mine. She’s fashionable and always put together. She may have given up on men and gave her life over to Christ, but she’s still a diva. She stares at me for a moment, taking me in.

“Laurie,” she breaths and pulls me into her arms. “Oh. My. God. You’ve lost so much weight,” she says into my neck. “Are you eating? Who are you staying with? Who’s taking care of you?” she asks, finally releasing me so she can look me in the eye for an answer to
who’s taking care of you
, which translates to who’s keeping me. Since Shane isn’t, my mother believes I left Shane for another man because of her proclivity to use men. She doesn’t understand how you just walk away from a relationship without having another lined up, especially since that was her modus operandi. My mother changed men as much as she changed clothes, and never left one without another waiting in the wings.

“I live alone in Atlanta, Ma.” She raises her perfectly arched eyebrow, studying me for a moment. She doesn’t believe me. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and scoff. She breaks eye contact and stares over me.

“Who are your friends?” I introduce her to Marcus and Charity. My mother immediately tries to gauge to see if Marcus is my man, still refusing to believe that I didn’t leave Shane for a man.

We’ve spent all day with my mother and Gram. Gram fixes us a dinner of collard greens, grilled chicken (her attempt to make something healthy even though her greens are made the original southern way with salt pork), macaroni and cheese, and lemon cake. She watched me like a hawk, ensuring that I ate every morsel that she put on my plate. Her and my mother don’t agree on much, but share their distaste for my extreme weight loss. I can’t tell them why I’ve lost so much weight. That would only add to my mother’s assumption that I have a man waiting on me in Atlanta.

By the end of dinner, Charity and Marcus have bonded with my Gram, who’s always easy to get along with. My Gram thinks Marcus is just too handsome for words, which he is. Marcus has smooth chocolate skin and jet black, low-cut, wavy hair, and he keeps his goatee and mustache perfectly coiffed. His body is amazing. He takes great pride in toning and sculpting it.

My mother has taken a liking to Charity; the both of them share diva attitudes. My mom immediately takes notice to Charity’s Love Shack Fancy braided pink-ombre maxi dress, stating she has the same one in solid Jaipur Pink.

“I love that you paired it with gold Giuseppe crystal toe ring sandals, and a pink pompon Balenciaga bag. I thought I wanted to dress it up, but I see it looks good casual too.”

My mother is a label whore. I have no idea who’s keeping her with a steady flow of trendy brand-named labels, especially since she’s supposed to have put an end to dating men. She’s supposedly exclusively only dating Jesus. I’m now giving Raiel the side eye. Last I checked, she was still working part-time as a medical assistant. I was with Charity when she purchased that three-hundred-dollar dress on her current baller boo’s charge account. If my mother is surviving only off of her part-time job, she couldn’t afford a three-hundred-dollar dress and her Lexus lease.

My mother has been eyeing Marcus and I suspiciously, trying to figure out our relationship. Marcus isn’t making it any better touching and staring at me adoringly. I want to die laughing, because I don’t know how she hasn’t figured out Marcus’s and I game. He knew that she was wearing Rag and Bone, and had on Gucci sandals. I didn’t know a straight man that was that well versed in fashion. I’ve told Marcus and Charity all about my mother. He knows she’s less likely to call Shane over if she thinks I have a man, especially one that she feels can provide for me. She gets up to look out the window for no particular reason. I know she was checking to see what kind of car we’re driving. She made sure to ask in a roundabout way if we rented the Audi, or if it belonged to someone. When Marcus winked and said, “It’s mine, but I always let Laurie drive,” my mother looks on impressed. Charity almost chokes off her food, and I have to stifle my giggle.

When we get up to leave, my mother calls me in her room to
talk
.

“So be for real with me, Laurie. Are you dating Marcus? Is that who’s taking care of you in Georgia?” I roll my eyes and her neck snaps back. I immediately straighten up.

“Ma, I have a job and I purchased a condo on my own. I live by myself. No one takes care of me besides me,” I say, trying really hard to keep the irritation out my voice. There’s only a fifteen-year age difference between my mother and me, but I was never her friend. She demanded that I respect her at all times. Regardless of her excessive dating or lack of paying me much attention, I wasn’t one of those kids that called my grandmother mom and my mom by her name. Un-uh Raiel—didn’t play that; didn’t matter if she acted like a mother half the time or not.

“So, you just went to another state, got a job, and bought a condo all on your own. L’oriel, you don’t even know anyone in Atlanta. How’d you just so happen to wind up there and get a place? And even though you lost weight, don’t think I didn’t notice your hips have spread. Those are elephant trunk hips. So you need to think real hard before you lie to me again. So you just up and went to Georgia and bought your own condo? With what money?” I drop my head, close my eyes, and try to control my breathing. I can’t believe my mother can’t see past who she is as a person. She is not me, and I am not her—and what the hell is elephant trunk hips?

“Yes. Ma. I did. Why can’t you believe that no one takes care of me? Is it because someone is still taking care of you? How are you able to still afford the expensive clothes you wear?” Astonishment flashed across her face. I know she didn’t think I noticed she’s still rocking expensive gear and driving a new Lexus. I know she leases, but still, how’s she affording the car note and insurance? Thanks to me hanging out with Charity and Marcus, I was learning the cost of the brands that I’d grown up watching my mother wear, so now that I know better. I know she isn’t maintaining her lifestyle on her own. Now I’m suspicious of her with all that
I’m dating Jesus; I don’t need a man
. She’s full of it. She’s just gotten better at hiding relationships.

I knew she kept a steady flow of men, but now I know she’d always had someone caring for her. She couldn’t keep up her current lifestyle with the money she makes from her job. She doesn’t have any other source of income that I know of.

“Little girl, you don’t need to worry about who’s taking care of me. I’m your mother. I have every right to ask how you’re able to provide for yourself. You just up and leave your husband. Then you come back here with some guy and girl I’ve never seen you with - driving an Audi. What am I supposed to think? You didn’t even tell me you were living out of the state until today. I want answers. Are you involved in some illegal mess?” I place my hands on the side of the temples and began to massage.

“Mother…”

“Ray,” my grandmother interrupts in a scolding tone. “If you don’t leave that girl alone. Bird has been gone for months, and that’s the most you can worry about is who’s taking care of her? Has Bird ever given you a reason to think she wouldn’t tell you the truth or be involved in something illegal?” My Gram enters the room and pulls me into a hug. “My Baby Bird. I’m proud of you,” she says as she wipes the tears that have escaped, though I tried really hard to keep them at bay. “You’ve always been so smart. I always knew you’d land on your feet. Shane was treating you poorly, you were miserable. Just like I saw your misery, I see your joy. You’re happy.” She kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, “Stay that way.” She grabs my hand and walks me to the door. I know it’s to protect me from my mother. She’s standing back annoyed at my Grams interference. She felt there was something she needed to get to the bottom of. I know Raiel; our conversation is far from over. I hug my Gram tell her good-bye, and thank her. I hug my mom as well, but it’s tense. Marcus takes the driver seat, and I slide into the passenger side. When he pulls off, I let loose crying until we pull into our hotel, while Charity consoles me.

When Monday arrives, I’m a bundle of nerves. I don’t know what to expect. I haven’t been able to keep anything down. I had never been to Detroit’s 36th district court before. I wasn’t aware that they almost make you strip naked before they let you in. I made three trips back out to the car because of the things I had at the bottom of my purse that I’d forgotten about. The back and forth further jolted my nerves. The only thing I took solace in was knowing that I’d totally emptied the contents of my stomach, so I wasn’t in any danger of losing it on the court room floor.

When we make it into the court room, I hear Marcus mutter, “I see his ass still hasn’t gotten a suit that fits.” I look up and smile, and greet my lawyer Mr. Barish.