Sweet Bye-Bye (21 page)

I put the pictures near my purse and my grandmother’s logbook back in the chest. I walked back toward the big tattered Bible in the bookcase. I pulled it from the shelf. It belonged to my grandmother. The first page read: “This book is presented to Hattie Brumwick, from Joshua Brumwick.” I flipped through it and there were bulletins from my church that dated back to 1979. There were family pictures in there, and things written in the margins.

Someone had written: “Thank you God for working on me. Thank you God for healing me and preparing me.” And “I can feel you comforting me. I can hear you reassuring me. I can see your blessings ready to pour upon me.”

I opened the Bible and read to myself from the fourth chapter of Mark: “And he rose and rebuked the wind and said unto the sea, Peace be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.”

And I can scarcely explain what happened as I sat reading. A gentleness came over me and rocked me and held me for a while.

When I was ready, I flipped through more old family pictures of us at places that I recognized, places that I sometimes visited now like Big Bear Lake and Yosemite Park. I examined the photos closely; we were camping in some, and roller skating in others. My mother and father and I had had a short but beautiful family life.

I was still sorting through pictures when I heard someone knock on the partially rolled-down door. “Are you all right in there?” I heard a man’s voice call.

I rolled the door upward and saw that it was the man with the canoe. I was crying like a baby and hadn’t even realized it. I was embarrassed, and surprised that I had been loud enough to alarm anyone.

I wiped my eyes. “Yes, I am okay. Just going over some old stuff.” I smiled.

“Yes, well, I do know how that is.” He rolled the door up a bit more and peeked in. “I’m Chuck, and I am your neighbor.” He held out his hand. “So if I can do anything, you just let me know.” He sounded like he lived there.

“Chuck, I’m Chantell Meyers.” I shook his hand. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Well, you’re alright. So, guess I’ll be getting back to my place.” He turned and walked away.

He made me smile.

I glanced around the space. There were sheets everywhere covering both big and little rectangular squares. I walked over to one sheet and whipped it off. My eyes opened wide. There were three huge pictures in slots on a rollaway bed. The first was a painting of sunflowers in a Mason jar. It was soothing yet strange, because it looked like the pink flowers that I had cut and placed in a Mason jar and set on my coffee table a few weeks back. I reassured myself, “See there! I knew my mom! How could I think that I didn’t? We like the same flowers!”

The second painting was of a little brown girl and boy maybe five years old. They wore loincloths and were kneeling over a little stream. The little boy’s hands were cupped and the little girl was drinking from them. The young boy looked stern and determined. The young girl’s eyes were hollow. To me, she looked tired, like she had no more fight in her. The entire painting was done in earth tones—browns, greens, beiges, creams—except for the water, which was a beaming, riveting blue. The frame was made from heavy oak.

The painting was the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen. I wondered what had inspired this. I looked at the back and saw written the words “Quenching My Thirst.” In the bottom right-hand corner my mother had signed it with a big Z, and a squiggly line.

I was determined to get some of that stuff home with me today. I drove my Jeep inside the big black gate and around to storage space number 77. In the storage room, I had my very own historical, personal library or museum or something. And I was determined to hold on to it. It would take me a while to go through everything, but the little that I had seen gave me a new sense of myself, a realness about me. I recited some of the things that my grandmother had written in the old Bible. “Thank you God for working on me. Thank you God for comforting me.” I experienced a certainty that I’d never felt before. And I was going to work harder on my relationship with God.

It felt good to know that my mother existed, that I hadn’t dreamt her up. And I asked God to show me more of my true self. I tried to get the paintings into the Jeep, but stopped when I heard the scraping sound of a wooden picture frame. I stepped out of the room and rolled the big door down and locked it. Then I ran around looking for Chuck, my neighbor with the canoe—maybe he could help me to get them into my vehicle. He was nowhere to be found. I ran around the narrow alleys to the front office and it was locked. I didn’t know where the couple lived, so I’d just have to come back and take the paintings another day. I went back to space number 77, retrieved my purse, grabbed the Bible and the stack of pictures, and headed out.

The big electric gate opened slowly, so I grabbed my cell phone from my purse. I looked down at the pictures that were sitting on my seat. I wanted go to the craft store and get a photo album. Since I had the week off, I could mount the pictures into a scrapbook in nice chronicles.

Trying to be “right” was hard. I waited for a light to turn green and regathered the slipping stack of pictures. Charlotte was the only person missing from them. She’d probably been the one that kept me from my mom’s stuff. She wanted to have my dad to herself—I bet that was why she picked on me like she did. She was the one who wanted to act like Zarina never was.

Charlotte needed an attitude adjustment, and I was going to tell her to go get one. I dialed the number. The phone rang.

“Hello,” she answered.

I let her have it. “Charlotte you’ve been keeping all of this stuff from me because you didn’t want me to know my mother! You never gave two cents about me. All you wanted was my father’s hard-earned money!”

“Chantell . . . Where are you? Come over here right now!”

“You know what, Charlotte? Don’t you tell me anything. You are not my—”

“Chantell, you little spoiled, ungrateful heifer! You get over here right now! Do you hear me?
Right now!
”

She had never spoken to me like that before. I was shocked. And for some reason, I listened. And I went.

36

Setting the Record Straight

I
pulled into their driveway and went into the house. Charlotte was sitting in the dining room, at the table, flipping through an
Ebony
magazine. She wore a yellow jogging suit, and her legs were crossed and shaking in quick little movements. The television was on and tuned in to
Forrest Gump,
but the volume was off. Charlotte, who didn’t look up to acknowledge me, must have just gotten a haircut, because her hairline at the nape of her neck was sculpted into a V. I walked in and sat down beside her.

She was still flipping the pages when she said, “I knew Zarina.”

Oh brother. What a crock! This was the last thing that I expected her to try to pull. “Okay, whatever, Charlotte.” How could she have known my mother? My parents were soul mates, and they never even knew her when they were together.

“We were young adults. Your mom and I were good friends and we lived across the street from each other. Your father, Harold, was my boyfriend.”

This woman needed prayer! “Oh yeah. Tell me another one,” I said. “And did you know that I used to go out with Denzel Washington?” I laughed and rolled my eyes up in my head. I’d heard enough of her foolishness for one day. Like my mother needed to go around stealing people’s boyfriends. My mom was so pretty, she could get her own man.

“I don’t have to lie to you, Chantell! When have I ever lied to you?”

She hadn’t really.

“I’m rehashing this story for you, not for me. So just shut your mouth and listen.”

She continued, “One day Harold came over to my house and saw Zarina. And instantly he just became a whole different person. Just like that. I tried to hold on to what we had, but it got to a point where I knew that I just needed to let it go. To let them go.”

Wow, I was speechless. I looked in her eyes and saw pain, and it was obvious how real this secret of hers was.

“So that’s what I did. I let them go. And they got closer and closer. They were living their lives, and I was trying to live mine. I was dating a fellow, Manfred Washington, when I heard that Harold and Zarina had had a baby girl. It still hurt something awful, but I wished them the best.”

She paused. “Then one day Zarina came over to my house. She said she had to speak with me. Said she was sick. Really sick. She said that she didn’t know how much longer she had. Your mother asked me to take care of you, and to take care of Harold.”

She fumbled through the magazine with glassy eyes. “That is what I have tried to do.”

“I am sorry, Charlotte,” I said. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know because you’re too busy rolling your eyes and talking smart. You think the world revolves around you,” she snapped.

I couldn’t say anything, because she was right. So I just looked straight ahead at the television and watched Forrest and Jenny run through the water to each other.

“I haven’t purposely tried to keep anything from you, Chantell!” Her voice cracked and the tears fell freely. “You think you know everything, but guess what? You don’t. Your mother’s passing away hurt both you and your dad so much that we decided we’d just as soon wait until you asked about her to discuss her. What you don’t know is that it hurt me too! Maybe not telling you wasn’t the right thing to do. But we didn’t know.”

She said, “Am I perfect? No, I am not. But I love you, and I love your father. And that’s something that you act like you don’t know anything about. I go to that storage every month and pay that bill, and I keep those wooden picture frames polished for you. That
is
love. That is unconditional love. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to learn, girl.”

I put my arms around her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I am learning. Forgive me, Charlotte.”

“I love you, Chantell.”

“I love you too, Charlotte.”

37

Coming Out

I
almost choked on my tea when I heard the mess Tia was saying. “Chantell, I can see right through you. Admit it!”

“Tia, you’re ridiculous!” I laughed and changed the phone to my other ear.

“Say that you don’t! I know that you want Keith Talbit!”

If this was what having siblings would be like, then I was glad I didn’t have any. I rolled my eyes, sighed into the phone, then admitted, “Okay. Keith is different. And I love him, but it’s not the way
you’re
thinking.”

“Well, why not?”

“Well, because for one, he and I are not the same type.”

“What do you mean, the same type? I think he’s digging you. And you said he washed your car while you ate cake! Why else would a man do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Tia, maybe because . . . it was dirty!”

“You know what I mean.”

I laughed. “Well, he does look at me strangely. But it’s not romantic love. He’s never tried to kiss me or anything.”

“Well, Chantell, if you like him, tell him. Honesty is the best. It’s so easy too, all you have to do is come right out and say, ‘Keith I really like you. And I want to know how you feel about me.’”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Girl, that’s corny. Tia, you’ve been married too long. If I did that he’d think that I was some desperate little gold-digger trying to land a doctor. Heck no! He is just my friend. I’m not saying that mess to that man! Matter of fact, I’m not saying anything.”

My girl had lost her mind. What did I look like? I was not going to hang around him and have him thinking that I wanted him to jump my bones like a half-naked extra in a rap video. I laughed some more. “You a fool, Tia.”

“You laugh, but Chawnee, if you like him, I think you should be honest and speak how you feel.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil.”

She continued, “You know what? You’re a trip, Chantell. When it’s business, you’re all over it like gangbusters. Schmoozing, getting the deal closed, getting the contract signed, handling your business. But when it comes to your heart, you shy away and scurry around from any attachment, unless of course it’s a negative one like Eric.”

Oh, no, she didn’t go there. “Tia, what is that supposed to mean?” I was getting upset. She sounded like I was some low-self-esteem reject.

“Chawnee, slow your row, alright? I am just saying that, if you like him, he seems like a good guy. Express it. I want you to be happy, so don’t get funky with me, homechick!”

“Well, thank you for your thoughts, Mrs. Married Woman, but you don’t know what it’s like out here.” Hopefully my tone let her know that I loved her but I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.

“Okay, you stubborn little wench, do as you wish. I ain’t telling your butt nothing else,” she said, pretending to be through with me.

“Yes, my darling best friend, I love you too.” I laughed.

My phone clicked. “Oh, hold on a minute. That’s my other line.”

“Oh no, Chawnee, I’ve gotta run. I actually have to head up the school. Are you coming by Tuesday to get your hair done?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Okay, see you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hurriedly clicked over. “Hello?”

“Hello, Chantell, it’s Keith.”

“Hi, Keith.”

“Are you busy?”

“No, I just hung up with Tia.”

“Oh, how is she?”

“She’s good.”

“Good,” he said, then he was quiet.

“Keith,” I said, “thanks again for the strawberry cake and for the car wash.”

“Oh, anytime, you’re welcome. I just wanted to say something.”

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, I meant it when I said that you could trust me,” said Keith.

Where did that come from? “I know,” I said.

“We’ll see.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that I really want you to know that I’m here for you. And that I don’t want to lose contact with you again.”

Keith was a true gentleman. He was both simple and complicated, and masculine. And so real that he scared me to death. And I knew that he, unfortunately, was likely too good to be true. I wouldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up. I couldn’t afford the disappointment. After all, he had said that he was only going to be around for a few months anyway.