Love UnExpected (Love's Improbable Possibility) (16 page)

My grandmother and grandfather came to the front portion of the three family home to greet me. My grandmother was just as round and plump as a snow-lady and Grandpa was tall and quite frail. I noticed his maimed arm and the left side of his face drooping from the stroke, I had assumed. It was pretty sad seeing him in that condition. The house smelled as it did when I was coming up. Many pictures on the wall were the same, the ones that were new to me were those of Chyna coming up. I was once again reminded of my neglect of her. It was crazy seeing her at various stages of her life—stages that I had missed.

My grandmother offered me food
to which I declined. I didn’t have much of an appetite as of late. Chyna brought me into her bedroom where she had Chris Brown, Soulja Boy, and Waka Flocka posters plastered on her walls. I saw pictures of her and some young guy who I had assumed was her boyfriend. There were poses of them kissing and embracing and some of him alone. Her music was blasting so loud that even she knew it was difficult to engage in a two-way conversation with it at that volume. Instead of turning it completely off, she turned it down to a moderate level.

We sat on her bed and initially just stared at one another. Chyna was a cutie. She had features of both our mother and father. She had gotten one of those piercings between her cheek and top lip, marring her beauty. I guess that was the fad for the kids
of her cohort. It took away from her natural splendor in my opinion, but who was I to say.

I broke the ice by saying, “Chyna, you’ve blossomed into quite a beauty. Then again, you’ve always been gorgeous.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl before saying, “Thanks,” in the shyest of tones.

“I’m sure the boys are just loving you
,” I continued my genuine doting.

She continued to laugh nervously. I was immediately reminded of what a teenager was like. I have a few as
patients but so far removed from entertaining one that I forgot the oddity involved. I tried a different way of starting up a conversation.

“So, what’s going on with you?” I asked hoping that would get her to talk.

“Ummmmm…nothing, I guess. Just school,” she said taking the bait.
Whew!

“Well, how is school? You should be preparing to graduate soon, right?”

“Yeah…I’m a junior. I think I wanna go ta’ college. I don’t know. I might do hair.”

“Okay. Well, give it some thought and I’m sure you’ll make the best decision for yourself.” I decided
that quickly to end the torture.

“You went t
a’ college, right?”

I nodded in agreement.

“Did you like it?” Chyna was finally trying to engage me in conversation.

“I went and I think it was one of the best things I could have done. I hope you can find what you like to do and make it happen, too. If it’s not college, it’s okay, but do something that can help you become independent. Grandma and Grandpa won’t always be around, you know
,” I softly admonished, keeping in mind my grandmother’s woes with Chyna.

“Ummmm…okay. I will
,” Chyna said and then followed up with, “Mommy be asking ‘bout you a lot.”

That comment hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d even thought about my mother. I hadn’t seen her since I left for college. My grandmother would mention her when I called back home
, but she generally never said much other than what related to Chyna.

All I could muster was, “Oh, yeah?” which was not a question although it sounded as such.

“Yeah. They transferred her from Straight & Narrow to St. Joe’s. She still on dialysis. I told her ‘bout smoking ‘dat shit knowing she sick but she don’t be hearing nobody. She gone’ end up just like my daddy…watch.” Chyna started to tear up.

I didn’t know what to say. This news was all foreign to me. My mother was on dialysis?
For what?

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I didn’t have anything else.

We chatted for about a half hour more before I rose to leave. Exhaustion hovered over me. I hadn’t been sleeping for weeks, and the flight out here probably pushed me over the edge. Chyna’s lack of maturity and etiquette didn’t allow her to offer to walk me out.

I stood in the kitchen and spoke briefly to my grandmother who sat at her kitchen table with the Bible out to her right, clipped coupons to her left and knitting a blanket in her lap. The conversation was
short-lived likely because whenever I do call and check in, it’s her that I speak with. I gave half-hearted promises to stop by before I left the following day to return home. That was me, in and out. I’d seen all my soul could bear. I kissed her and headed out.

On my way to the door
, I heard my grandfather wheeze, “You look just like yo’ momma when she was yo’ age...just as beautiful as the sunrise. Heehee!”

Startled, I stopped to give him my full attention. “Only difference is you selfish like nobody’s business. Yo' momma was the most generous and selfless woman I knew. That’s how the drugs caught up ta' her, you know. She was a people pleaser. So much that she forgot about herself. I don’t know what she saw in my son. Heehee!” He tapped his chair in mirth. “He was like you
; when some’in ain’t go his way or life wasn’t rosy, he hit the road runnin'. That' why he left you girls, your brother and yo' momma, you know. He never even looked back. Heehee!” He paused looking off into the distance as he faced the stained wall that boasted pictures of smiling faces from decades ago.

He continued
, “Yo' baby sister ended up here because nobody wanted her. Akeem…we all know his story: them streets swallowed him up. Yo' momma runnin' ‘round here after a crack pipe with two dead kidneys from that new disease—heap…hepa...tites or something.”

That’s why she’s on dialysis!
My mother has hepatitis. Damn.

“She still down there in them projects even though she 'pose to be in rehab. She was there one day and ran off. And you…well, let’s just say that maybe you had half
a mind to leave this ugly life of yours behind ya for greener pastures but you left even the people who did you no harm. You know what dat tells me?” My grandfather now shifted his gaze to meet mine. “Dat right there tells me that you ain’t no better off where you at because you ain’t yet make sense of the trouble inside ya. The pain is all inside ya. Not here wit’ me or yo' grandmother or Chyna…the people who ain’t hurt ya. It’s within you, honey. Until you free ya’self of them troubles you gone’ keep running like that daddy of yours. May even die a lonely death.” He paused for a few seconds.

My breathing hitched and my eyes blinked, fighting back the
stinging tears from the blow he’d just dealt. Those last words rang familiar. Some of the loudest I’d last heard from Michelle.

He continued, “I bet you ain’t even married…are ya
? And dat’s because you can’t let nobody near ya. Pretty educated girl like ya’self ain’t spoken fo’ ‘cause ya damaged. I’m sure it ain’t because the boys don’t want ya'. You got 'dat college degree so I know you got ya’self a good job. You just ain’t right in here.” He touch his chest referring to the heart.

He ended there, mercifully, because I didn’t know how much more of his analysis
of my pathetic existence I could take. I didn’t know whether to be offended or look for an epiphany in the message. But I couldn’t deny the gravity in it.

I made it to the car before breaking down. His words wounded me. His description of my mother brought me back to the woman I knew as
Mommy when I was a kid. I then realized that all of the anger and resentment I held for her in my heart as a teen because of the bullshit she took from my father caused me to mentally block out her very existence.

When was the last time I’ve even spoken to her?
Has she even tried to reach out to me over the years?
I was still in shock. Total disbelief of recent revelations.
She has hepatitis? She needs dialysis? Had her addiction progressed that much?

Suddenly
, I felt the need to see her. I had to just lay eyes on her. My heart began to take on a new ache as I shivered in pain. This was much different than the emptiness I felt when I thought of Michelle. This was guilt. I felt so many ill-emotions all at once.

I found myself going towards the west side of the city. The closer I got to the projects I once called home the more knots formed in my belly.
I have to see her.
As I pulled up in the parking lot of the building where we used to live, it resembled a ghost town. There were no trees or grass, there was no beauty within the vicinity. The night fell upon the city with light rain as I parked my car.

Before exiting
, I paused to gather myself. I was about to walk the same soil that a young girl was murdered on because of some bullshit concerning me. I took a deep breath and grabbed my umbrella to get out of the car. I saw two people coming out of the building I was approaching, neither of which I recognized.

I didn’t want to go in. Memories of my childhood began pouring in. I didn’t know what to do. I swore I’d never return to these projects and here I am. I
still felt the need to reach out to my mother. I would at least give her my sincere concern for her health. I began to look around for someone I knew. But very few were out in this rain. As I set about walking to the entrance of the building, my stomach became flooded with butterflies. Just before I went to grab the door handle, it swung open. I had to jump back to prevent getting hit. It was Ms. Regina from the fourteenth floor.

“Girl, is dat you?” she screamed
, immediately recognizing me. She looked as if she just learned she was on candid camera. I nodded.

“Where yo’ momma at? I was just coming here to look for her
,” she continued screaming. Years of hard living had caught up to her. Her skin had darkened and blotted spots had developed around her face.

“I was just coming to see her. When was the last time you’ve seen her?”   

“Bobbi just told me she went to da chicken pit up the block. She should be on her way back. She got my money, she said she needed ta’ get change. Dat was like a hour ago,” Ms. Regina informed. “Girl, you know you is pretty as hell! I know yo man is taking care of dat ass. You look good! Let me hold a lil’ something. And don’t tell me you ain’t got it ‘cause you looking real clean…too clean to say you ain’t!” She hit me with the crackhead hustle.

I wasn’t beat for it so I replied
, “Ms. Regina, I don’t mean no disrespect, I just need to see my mother. It’s a family emergency. If you see her, tell her I’m out here looking for her.” I didn’t wait for a response. I walked off.

I drove to the chicken pit. It was your typical,
around the way take-out restaurant with the word “chicken” in the name. They sold everything from fried chicken, to burgers, to sodas, to blunts. It was a hole in the wall but artery-clogging food was always delicious and eagerly available in the hood.

I walked in the
restaurant and saw just a few people. It was dark out and a weekday so there weren’t many people out. A tall, slender guy with the nappiest mounting afro was at the counter ordering his food. He kept eyeing the pictures on the menu that were displayed above the register.

“Ummm…Ummm…Ummm…let me get a… Ummm…Ummm…Ummm…let me get a… Ummm…Ummm…Ummm…let me get a…”
he mumbled repeatedly as if he had no clue what he wanted—or as if the menu ever changed.

Then there was a chubby
—
no
—a plain ol’ fat woman whose skin tone was so dark she looked blue. She wore white leggings and her skin color pervaded through them, not to mention the rolls in her belly and the fact that her thighs were so big that her feet were like five feet apart when she stood. She had a little girl with her that could be no more than three years old. The little girl ran around the restaurant doing imaginary play with her pretty bows and barrettes. Her hair was braided masterfully.

I then noticed an old, gray haired, soiled
, and indigent man sitting on the ledge of the window. He was dosing in and out of consciousness. I wondered how was it that he hadn’t hit the floor with all the tilting he was doing.

I was back at home.
Blah!
What a dose of reality.

The last character to catch my eye was a frail woman who donned a long denim skirt and running shoes. She
wore a bold colored windbreaker jacket that was hot back in the 80s, not so much in present day. She kept bobbing her head to music that played exclusively in her mind because I damn sure didn’t hear a melody of it.

There was something familiar about her voice. I knew this subconsciously, which caused me to move up closer from behind her to catch a glance of her face. I rounded her from the left and after studying her stance for seconds, I realized it was my mother. My heart began racing and my eyes shot up causing acute pain in the back of my head. She didn’t immediately catch on to my gaze although I was well within the inner realms of her peripheral. She had dark rings around her once
radiant eyes and warts on her former plump lips. She looked horrid. My mother appeared extremely ill. I don’t know how long it was before she turned to acknowledge me but when she did, she took a double take. It was relieving to know that she recognized me.