Kendra (3 page)

Nana’s on the phone when I get home from school and I can tell who she’s talking to by the way she’s sitting. She’s at the kitchen table with her legs crossed and her head tilted to the side like she’s a young girl or something. And she’s smiling, making herself look more her age than like the old lady she been turning into lately.

“Yeah, I heard you were looking for me,” she says into the phone. “John told me as soon as I got back from lunch. But when I went over to your department, you weren’t at your desk.”

I know she’s talking to Clyde, this guy that works with her at Verizon. They been in the same office for a while, but all of a sudden he been checking her out, like he just noticed she worked there or something.

I met him a couple of weeks ago. He don’t live that far from here, and sometimes he calls in the morning and asks her if she wants a ride to work, and he even drives her home whenever he don’t do overtime. But they never go out or anything, except maybe to lunch together. At least as far as I know.

The thing about Clyde is that he don’t give up. He calls her all the time, and I can tell he’s probably asking her out. But she always turns him down. Real nice. Probably so she can stay home and babysit me, like if she turns her back for a second, I’m gonna turn into the biggest ho out here. I swear it’s like Nana’s okay being alone and miserable just so long as I’m alone and miserable right along with her. And pretty soon Clyde’s gonna see that and stop calling, just like the last couple of guys did.

I step into the kitchen, and the first thing I wanna know is if Nana’s heard from Renée and if there’s any way possible she left Boston right after her interview and is coming home tonight. But I know what Nana’s gonna say if I even think about interrupting her phone call. So instead, I wave hello to her and she waves back without stopping her conversation.

On the stove are leftovers from last night, and I’m just not feeling it again even though I am kinda hungry. I skipped lunch again and worked in the theater. I spent the whole forty-five minutes painting framed pictures on the back wall of the living room set so the characters in the play would look more like real people with family and stuff. I even made some of the pictures look old-fashioned, like from back in the day. I’m not the best artist in the world, especially when it comes to drawing people. I’m way better designing houses and creating floor plans. But from the audience, I think my hanging pictures are gonna look kinda real. Hopefully.

Since Nana isn’t paying me any mind, I just grab some grapes off the table and take them with me down the hall to my room. Give her some privacy and let her talk to the man without me hanging around. I don’t have too much homework,
mostly just stuff to read. And I got a math quiz tomorrow, but algebra isn’t all that hard and I can probably do alright even if I don’t study.

Renée wouldn’t understand that. If she was home she would be like, “Study. Get an A,” and all that. Nana told me Renée was like that her whole life, and that one time in fourth or fifth grade, she came home from school crying because she got a 99 on a test, like she couldn’t forgive herself for missing that one point. Nana kept telling her that she was proud of her, but it didn’t matter, because Renée wasn’t proud of herself.

I know Renée’s probably not all that proud of me, either. My grades are decent, but every time Nana sends Renée a copy of my report card, Renée never even mentions it when she calls home. She probably thinks I can do better, and I can if I really wanna. Last marking period my average was 83, and it could have been better if my grade wasn’t so bad in bio. But I’m passing everything, which is more than Adonna can say. She’s probably gonna have to go to summer school for geometry if she don’t start studying.

About twenty minutes later, while I’m sitting on my bed picking on the grapes and trying to finish the boring chapter for world history, the phone rings and Nana comes down the hall and opens my door without even knocking. She never knocks, but I don’t have the energy to get mad anymore. If I bring it up, all she’s gonna say is it’s her apartment and she pays the bills. She don’t understand why anybody would expect to have privacy in their own home.

“Here,” she says, coming over to my bed and handing me the cordless. I know it’s Adonna because Nana never says her name and because, really, nobody else ever calls me.

“Thanks,” I tell her. I’m holding the phone and I’m waiting for her to leave, but she don’t move. So, because I can’t just leave Adonna hanging, I put the phone to my ear and say hello.

“Kendra, what happened to you?” Adonna asks me right away. “You never came to lunch.”

“Oh, I wasn’t all that hungry.” I’m staring at Nana, who’s looking like she’s trying to figure out what we’re talking about. “And, um, I wanted to get some work done on the set, you know, so it can be finished before the dress rehearsal on Thursday. Hold on.” I cover the mouthpiece with my hand. “What?” I ask Nana.

“Nothing. I just—”

You just wanna be nosy
, I actually think about saying, but I know that’s only gonna set her off.

Nana stands there for another few seconds, then shakes her head and walks outta my room. I get up and close the door behind her fast, before she gets a chance to change her mind.

“I’m back,” I tell Adonna and go back over to my bed. I grab the grapes I still got left, push my books over to the wall, and pick up my small hardcover sketchbook. Then I take my pencil and try to get comfortable because, most of the time, Adonna can talk forever, especially when she starts talking about other people. I start sketching a house, starting with the plans for the first floor.

“I’m just saying,” she goes on, not missing a beat, “you had me standing around waiting for you and shit. Then that girl Giselle with the moustache, she said she saw you going into the theater. What’s up with you, anyway?”

“Nothing.” On the page I draw dark lines between what’s gonna be the living room and the dining room.

“That’s all you got to say, ‘nothing’?”

“Yeah—I mean, why should I go to lunch when I’m not even hungry? I had breakfast, and I knew as soon as I got home, there was gonna be a big dinner waiting for me. And Kenny gave me some candy last night, so I picked on that at lunch.” Really, I don’t know why I’m even explaining any of this to Adonna.

“Well, you could have let someone know you weren’t coming,” Adonna says. “I was standing there, looking all stupid.”

“Sorry.” I know she probably wants me to say more, but what? I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for. For not wanting to go to lunch? For wanting to do something I actually like doing for a change?

“I didn’t have anyone to help me jump the line,” she says, giggling a little. And I know what she’s trying to do, change the subject, keep everything light. “Anyway,” she keeps going, “you missed the funniest thing in the cafeteria today. You know that guy with the pleather jacket? Raymond whatshisname. He was wearing these tacky jeans with white piping, and he was walking around and he didn’t know that a long piece of white string was hanging outta his fly. Everybody was elbowing everybody else and laughing at him, and by the time he noticed, all the guys were calling him Tampon.”

I laugh and shade in the area that’s gonna be the back deck.

“Kendra, that shit was so funny. He sat down and tried to pull the string off, but he couldn’t, so he got up, got one of those plastic knives, and tried again. It took so long and everybody was laughing, even Ms. Griffin, but she was trying not to let anybody see.”

I laugh again. “Okay, you’re right. I do always miss the good stuff.”

“I know. I try to tell you to stay with me because shit like that always happens when I’m around.”

That’s definitely true. But I don’t think she just happens to be around that kinda thing. I think she actually
attracts
the craziness to her.

“So,” she goes on, “did Nashawn say anything about me at the lockers today?”

I drop the pencil on my bed. Most of the time when she asks me this, I just tell her no real fast because he don’t ever talk about her, but now I’m not sure what to say. I don’t know if I should bring up that me and him were in the computer lab at the same time this morning, because that’s just gonna lead to a whole bunch of questions. And, knowing Adonna, it’s never gonna end.

“Um, no,” I tell her. And it is kinda true, too. I didn’t even see him at the lockers today. I mean, yeah, when we were in the computer lab, he did ask me where she was, but I don’t know if he was really looking for her or anything. It seemed more like he was just surprised me and her weren’t together.

“Oh,” she says. “I was just wondering. I saw him at lunch and I think he was looking over at my table, but he still never talks to me. You think he’s shy?”

“I don’t know. Probably.” All of a sudden I feel kinda guilty for not telling her, but now it’s too late. If I say anything now, it’s gonna sound like I was hiding it from her. And I don’t want her thinking I’m going after Nashawn. I definitely don’t need that kinda drama in my life.

“Kendra, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” I tell her. “Just trying to study, why?”

“You’re acting, I don’t know, kinda weird.”

“Adonna, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re hardly even saying anything.”

“I’m
listening
to you.”

“Okay, whatever.” She does one of her long sighs.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. Screw it.”

In the background, on her end, I can hear Kenny’s voice. He probably just finished parking the truck and bringing all the refrigerated and frozen food back upstairs. It’s a whole process every night. He even got a second refrigerator in Grandma’s apartment just to keep all that stuff in. The rest of the food stays locked up in the truck, and so far nobody around here broke into it or anything. I hear Kenny saying, “How you gonna drink one of my Sprites when you ain’t ask me?”

“Hold on, Kendra,” Adonna says. “God, Kenny, it’s only one little can.”

“Adonna, you better pay up!” Kenny yells.

By then the phone is completely away from Adonna’s face and, even though I can’t really understand what she’s saying, I can hear the attitude in her voice. I pick up my pencil again and draw the parallel lines for the staircase.

The next thing I can make out clearly on the phone is Kenny yelling, “Yo, Ma! You better come talk to your daughter ’cause I’m gonna hurt her if she keeps on touching my stuff!”

I’m really not in the mood for one of their stupid fights.

Finally, Kenny comes on the phone. “Babe?”

“Hi,” I say. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Look, Babe.” He’s real mad and not trying to hide it. “Your friend is gonna get her butt kicked, I swear. That girl needs to start showing me some respect, you know what I’m saying?”

In the background, Grandma and Adonna are arguing now, their voices getting louder and louder.

“Kenny,” I say, “can you just tell Adonna I’ll see her in the morning?”

“Alright,” he says, but I can tell he’s not even thinking about me. His mind is deep in the fight with his sister. Over a stupid can of Sprite.

I click off the phone and lay there for a couple of minutes, finishing the grapes and trying not to let myself think too much about Kenny and Adonna.

I close my sketchbook and go out to the kitchen. The TV in the living room is actually off for a change and Nana is sitting at the kitchen table eating, not putting her plate on a dinner tray to eat in front of some Lifetime movie.

I put the phone back on the base to charge and, without her even telling me to, I make myself a plate.

“Did Renée call?” I ask.

“She called me at work this afternoon and told me her interview went real good. She thinks they’re going to make her an offer, but she still got that second interview at City College tomorrow and she
knows
they want her.”

I put just enough vegetables on my plate that I won’t have to hear Nana’s mouth. “Is she coming home tonight?” I ask.

“No, she said the college paid for her to have the hotel room tonight, too, so she’s going to take them up on it. And she don’t like driving at night.”

I sit down next to her. “What did she say about tomorrow? Is she gonna spend the night here?”

“Yeah, she said something about meeting some friends in the city for dinner, and she’ll be here after that.”

“Oh,” I say. I know it don’t make sense, but I was kinda hoping Renée was gonna get here tonight instead of tomorrow, just so we could have some extra time together. Because I know she’s gonna leave early on Thursday to start driving down to Maryland and I think she said she was gonna stay there all weekend for her friend’s graduation party or something.

We eat for a little while, quiet. Then Nana says all proud and everything, “I knew Renée was going to be in high demand. Every college that got any sense is going to want her, a smart girl like that.”

“I know. I can’t wait to hear what she’s gonna decide.” It’s kinda hard not knowing what’s gonna happen next, where Renée is gonna work and where we’re gonna live. It’s hard having to just wait like this.

“So, Nana,” I say when I’m finished eating practically everything on my plate. “Are you gonna invite Clyde over? ’Cause he seems like a real nice guy.”

“He is,” she says, and there’s a tiny little smile on her face that she can’t hide. But then she sighs all heavy. “But you know how I feel about having men in and out of here.”

“I know, but I’m not all that little anymore.”

She looks at me for a few seconds. “I can see that.” Her voice sounds more tired than it usually does. “But, Babe, you’re at that age now. You need someone looking after you, not thinking about no man.”

And there it is again, her big fear. That I’m gonna do what Renée did, go and get pregnant at fourteen. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nana,” I tell her. “I’m good.”

“We’ll see,” she says, and she looks at me for a split second, but it’s not me she’s seeing. She never sees me anymore. It’s like
she’s always looking into the future or something, at how she thinks I’m gonna turn out.