Mistress (2 page)

It’d been a whole month since I’d seen Pop. Every night, he’d been standing outside the front door for hours pleading Ma to take him back. She would just tune him out and act as if he wasn’t even there. By morning, he’d be gone. She got the locks and the phone number changed. I missed him so much. Her tummy was getting bigger by the minute. I was hoping for a new baby brother.

I was watching my favorite cartoon,
Tom and Jerry
, while enjoying a bowl of Froot Loops.

“Alexis Kayla Gibbs, will you please give me a hand with these groceries?” Ma demanded.

Luckily, I went just in time to rescue the eggs that were falling out of her hands. “No problem,” I replied, laying them on the counter.

“Girl, I wouldn’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you.” She sighed and kissed me on the cheek.

“You would be sad.”

She put the milk in the refrigerator. “This cookie in the oven and you give me strength to go on.”

“I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too, baby. We’ve got a few things to do today. First, go clean up that filthy bathroom of yours and take a shower. You need to get your hair done. Lord knows, I don’t have the strength to tackle down those kinks in your head.” She plopped down on the leather couch. “I told Rhonda we would be at the shop in an hour. My doctor’s appointment is at two this afternoon.”

The bathroom was a piece of cake. All I had to do was to wash the bathroom sink with Comet.

I jumped in the shower for ten minutes. I loved to get my hair done. Ms. Rhonda would always make it look tight.

“Ma, I’m ready,” I panted, running from out of my room.

“Okay, let me just put these last bit of groceries away.”

* * *

Ms. Rhonda’s hair salon was packed, and even though Ma would always seem to wait till the last minute to book an appointment, she always managed to squeeze me in.

“What’s on the hair menu for today?” I asked.

“I was thinking about giving you a nice doobie wrap. This way, your mother or you can just wrap your hair,” Rhonda explained, applying the relaxer to my scalp.

“I want it to have some curl to it though.”

“Coming right up. Tell me if you’re burning.”

I was in agony sitting under the hot dryer. Ma was fast asleep. Nowadays, she only had a smile on her face when eating or sleeping. I let
Essence
,
Ebony
,
Jet
, and
Ladies’ Home Journal
all keep me company.

“You’re all finished.” Ms. Rhonda sighed. She sprayed glosser on my hair and spun me around in the chair.

“Thanks, Rhonda.” Ma pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Consider it an early baby shower gift. Vivian, don’t fight me on this one. Go home, relax, and take care of Alex and the one in your stomach.”

Ma giggled. “You’re too much.”

I waved good-bye to Rhonda, and Ma and I walked out of the shop.

Another woman waiting to step into the door looked down, locking eyes with me and then Ma. She had a huge ponytail that didn’t look like all of her hair and was fidgety at the door and seemed to be in a hurry.

“Hmm . . . excuse me, do I know you?” the woman asked, tapping Ma on the shoulder.

“I don’t think so, unless you’ve seen me at this hair shop,” Ma stated.

“No, no. I’m sure to have seen you and your daughter in a picture.” She looked back at me. “Alexis, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s my name,” I said, trying to be friendly.

“What picture?” Ma demanded to know.

“Now, I know. My boyfriend Robby showed me a picture of you and your daughter. You’re his sister, right? He’s hoping the baby will be his brand-new nephew so he can have somebody to watch football games with. Now, I need a favor from you,” she insisted.

“What’s that? Um . . . I didn’t catch your name,” Ma said, balling up her fists.

“It’s Yvonne. I’m not one to be working. Robby promised to help out on my bills. I need to get my hair done. I have no other choice than to write a postdated check to Rhonda, hoping it clears the bank. He’s a real catch. I see the future and his restaurants are taking off, which means I can be the homemaker and eat Klondike bars all day and watch the soaps. So, if you see him, please let him know I’m on the lookout.” She giggled.

Ma said, “Yvonne, let me ask you a small question.”

“Sure. You can ask me anything.”

“Did you screw him?”

“Yeah. What’s it to you? You’re his sister. You shouldn’t want to know how he gets down in the bedroom.”

“Three things, Yvonne, you need to know. First, Robby is my husband. Second, the restaurants we own together. Third, take this as a lesson learned. Never screw a man who promises to give you the world. He should have gave it to you before you gave it up to him. It would be in your best interest to leave him alone. Dogs always know where home is,” Ma announced and then walked to the car, leaving Yvonne standing in the doorway in tears.

My heart was racing as I saw Pop’s Ford 150 green truck outside of the restaurant. It stood the test of time, rain, sleet, and snow. Before the Chicken Shack was opened, Ma and Pop sold chicken dinners for five dollars outside of the truck. I was always strapped down in my car seat, playing with toys and eating a Popsicle to keep me quiet.

After one year, my parents saved enough money to open their own restaurant where folks could sit down and eat their food. The grand opening was on July 17, 1979, a day that I will never forget. Three months before the big day, Ma and Pop had family, friends, and anybody that could help putting up flyers in Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, Suffolk, Franklin, Norfolk, Portsmouth, Hampton, Newport News, and Williamsburg.

The night before, Pop was so nervous. I could hear Ma and him praying to God, asking for His favor over the restaurant. It was my father’s dream, and my parents worked relentlessly to see this dream come true.

Dressed in a royal-blue chiffon dress with matching bow ribbons for my hair and patent leather shoes, I witnessed people from all over the Tidewater area come and get a taste of Pop’s soul food. The items on the menu featured fried chicken, white and dark meat—Pop could even fry a whole chicken—chicken sandwiches, fried fish, featuring whiting, trout, catfish, and croaker, hickory smoked BBQ ribs. (They have always been my favorite.) There was also beef and pork. The sides included mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, corn pudding, rice pudding, candied yams, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, cabbage, string beans, and black-eyed peas. For desserts, apple, blackberry, peach cobbler, vanilla and chocolate ice cream. After a lot of coaxing, Pop finally put an ice cream machine in the restaurant. That meant I could have ice cream anytime I wanted.

As Ma jumped out of the car, she took off her quarterinch sandal heels and wobbled into the restaurant. My heart was beating faster. She was pissed and had never confronted Pop here, of all places. “Robby, where are you?” Ma shouted out.

“Hey, Vivian, how are you feeling?” Mr. Marshall, one of Pop’s best cooks, walked to the front door.

“Hello, John. Have you seen my husband?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

“That won’t be necessary. Besides, it’s going on one o’clock. I know the kids are waiting for you to take them to the park. You go on home to your family.”

“All right, well, I’ll see you two ladies later.” He smiled and walked to the door.

We searched everywhere for Pop, looking in the customer and employee bathrooms, the kitchen, and the closets. Finally, Ma spotted the back door slightly cracked open. There, we found Pop sweating profusely, unloading the Valley Food Service truck with the restaurant’s weekly supplies.

“Alex, hold my purse and go inside to get a slice of peach cobbler,” Ma told me.

“I don’t want any cobbler, Ma,” I whined.

Pop, his back turned to us, still hadn’t turned around because the truck was so loud.

“I didn’t ask you what you wanted. Now, I’m not repeating myself, so do what I asked you to do,” she warned, cutting her eyes at me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, feeling defeated and scared for my life and Pop’s. I was tired of my parents fighting. I quickly walked to the door and slightly kept it open so I could see.

“Robby?” Ma shouted out.

“Viv, are you all right? Where’s Alex at?”

“She’s fine, Robby.”

“Why do you keep calling me Robby? No one calls me that except my Aunt Pam, who I can’t stand to be in the same room with.”

“Yvonne calls you Robby, Robert,” Ma screamed as she pounced on him and repeatedly kept slapping him with her shoes.

“What? Are you paying bills for your tramps now? Yvonne has it fixed in her head you are going to take care of her. She can’t even pay for her hair to get done. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this restaurant with you and you repay me like this? Robby, I will suck your money dry before you can ever move on with one of your tramps. You don’t have any respect for me and this family. It’s bad enough you cheat and you do it in the open,” Ma hollered out.

I was crying yet again all because of Pop. I turned to wipe my eyes on my shirt since I didn’t have a tissue. After I turned back around, Ma stopped hitting Pop and grabbed her stomach, almost falling to her knees.

“Viv, are you all right?” Pop asked.

“Don’t you touch one of your damn fingers on me. I will be fine.” Ma seemed to immediately regain her strength and headed toward the door.

I ran over to the ice cream machine to play off my lurking and snooping. Before I knew it, Ma walked over to me and grabbed my hand, and we walked out the main entrance and got into the car.

For at least ten minutes, Ma cried in the driver’s seat while Pop was begging her to open the car door. I could see the worry in his eyes. It was hard to tell who he was worried about more, Ma, the baby, or me. Then, we pulled off.

“Alex, are you hungry?” Ma asked, changing the subject.

I didn’t dare try to question what just happened. “A little. What are you in the mood for?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I have a craving for gyros. It’s only one thirty. We have plenty of time to run and grab something to eat.”

On the way to the Greek Hut, we passed by the Chicken Shack, one of the many restaurants owned by my father. Our family ate chicken at least three times a week; however, we never grew tired of it.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sometimes, Pop would bring me to work with him during the summer months. It used to be so much fun helping him work the cash register. I wanted to be a cashier when I grew up. Pop had higher hopes for me and somehow knew I was going to change my mind in time.

Ma ate the last bit of her gyro. I got the small one and still couldn’t seem to finish it.

“May I have a soda?”

“I don’t see that cup of water empty. You know the rules. Water is drank first, then carbonated water with sugar.”

“Ma, it’s called soda.”

“Whatever it’s called, I’m not going to let it rot out your pearly white teeth.”

Ma sipped on a bottle of water. “I despise water. It has no flavor or taste to it. Plus, I am always running to the toilet to make pee-pee trips.”

“The doctor will be our last stop. After this, I’m going to make a date with the bed.” Ma yawned.

“Ma, yawning is contagious.”

“Girl, it’s just a myth.”

“No way. I’m living proof.” I yawned.

I’m getting hungry again already. This little guy loves to eat.” Ma rubbed her stomach.

When we arrived at the doctor’s office, the elevator was out of order.
Just our luck
, I thought. Ma and I had to walk up three flights of stairs. “Four more steps and we are there,” I said, pulling her arm.

“At least, I’m getting my exercise for the month,” she panted almost breathless.

I thought she was supposed to exercise each day. I felt sympathy for her. It’s hard carrying a basketball in the middle of your stomach. Ma and Pop didn’t care whether it was a boy or a girl, just as long as the new member of the Gibbs family was healthy with ten fingers and ten toes, but I wanted a baby brother. I couldn’t wait for he or she to get here. Big sister won’t be my name for nothing. I was looking forward to being a babysitter and taking strolls in the park, with cotton candy melting in our mouths.

As we entered the office, the waiting room had no one waiting, yet it was filled with the scent of white gardenias hitting my nose. Pop was standing by the water fountain looking down. He looked as if he had been waiting there all morning.

“Pop!” I ran to him.

He picked me up and swung me around.

“Alex, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, holding me tight.

I noticed a red bag and a purple bag sitting on the floor right next to him. I was hoping one of them was for me.

“What’s in the bags?”

“Some goodies. This red one is for you. This one is for your mother.”

“Here is yours.” I tried to hand it to Ma and almost dropped the bag. It was so heavy. I was eager to tear that sucker open. Inside my bag was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. He brought me a Strawberry Shortcake doll with all of her friends. I faithfully watched the cartoon every Saturday morning.

“Keep digging in your bag.” Pop winked.

“There’s more to discover.”

Blow Pops, candy necklaces, Now and Laters, and Fun Dip are all my favorite candies.
I quickly tore off the wrapper of a black cherry blow pop.
To top it off, he brought me the deluxe Easy-Bake Oven. Now, I can bake two things instead of one.
“Thank you, Pop,” I said while giving him a hug.

“I knew you would like your things.”

“Alex, go play with your new stuff over by the couch. I need to speak with your father.” Ma never took her eyes off of Pop.

“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded. Ma didn’t want me listening to grown-up conversation, but I did.

“Don’t even think by you trying to buy our love back will make this marriage and our family better.”

“Vivian, I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he sobbed, putting his hand over her stomach.

“Robert, sorry isn’t good enough. Actions speak louder than words. Were you sorry when you had your penis in another woman’s vagina?” she questioned, her hands crossed.

No words were coming out of his mouth.

“I’m your wife, not Tracy, Shelly, Cynthia, Kathy, or your latest trick Yvonne. You’re supposed to have an orgasm in my vagina only.”

“If you let me, I will.”

“Believe me when I say you will not even smell this my devoted husband,” she pointed downward. I hate you! Take your shit. I don’t want it.”

“Whatever it takes, I will do anything to get your heart back.”

“You had my heart, but you don’t know how to treat it.”

“Take a look in the bag.”

“No.”

“I’ll just open it myself then. Woman, you can be so damn stubborn,” Pop mumbled, opening the bag.

“Huh, you’re lucky I didn’t knock your ass out—” Ma ranted. Only, something cut her off. It was two crystal balls. One was a sonogram picture of the baby. The other one was a picture of us when I was christened at Serenity Baptist Church.

“Those are my babies. How did you do this?” she asked, crying tears of joy.

“Last week, your doctor gave it to me. I wanted to come in, but I knew you would have thrown me out,” he said, gently holding her hand.

Ma snatched her hand away. “You got that right.”

“Pop let me hold one,” I insisted, running back over to them.

“That’s not all. It plays lullabies.”

“The doctor will see you now, Mrs. Gibbs,” the receptionist said.

“Thank you.” Ma smiled and stepped through the door.

I followed right behind her, tugging on Pop’s hand to come along as well.

“May I come in with you?” he asked, a puppy dog look on his face. “I don’t want to do anything to upset you and the baby.”

“You’ve already done enough. This is your baby too.” Ma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.