Authors: Akilah Trinay
“I know that you are upset, but there is nothing that you could have done. Let’s just get out of here while we still have a chance. I’ll take you wherever you need to go, but you gotta tell me who did this. I may be able to help.” She held his face in the palm of her hand reassuring him that she was on his team.
Lance just stared blankly back at her. What could she possibly do to help? He had already put her through so much and they had just met hours ago. The simplicity of his evening became tarnished with one phone call. He couldn’t help but place the blame on himself. Had he not called Elijah to pick him up, he would still be alive. Yet, again the vibration of his phone suspended his thoughts. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t recognize the number and just picked up the call. At this point, it could have been anyone. He couldn’t risk missing an opportunity to be present this time around.
“Hello. What’s up? Who is this?”
“Lance, it’s me Darnise. I heard what happened. The block is real hot right now. Baby, come home. You know I got you. I don’t care about the girl you are with. I know us. I rocked with Elijah too. I’ll be up waiting.”
“Bet. Gone.” He hung up the phone. He proceeded to give the directions to Jamie of where to drop him off. The ride was silent, no music, no conversation. There was too much tension in the air. Lance couldn’t trust Jamie. He had just met her, but Darnise was familiar, he knew what to expect. She understood her role and for him that was his best and only option.
Chapter 9
The hospital was still fairly busy, although the evening was winding down. Ana was completing her necessary paperwork to end her shift, when Charlene came strolling in. Her hair was disheveled and she was wearing the same outfit from the day prior. She was too tired to care what anyone had to say about it. She was still disappointed that she had to take another turnaround trip down to Riverside. Nevertheless, she was concerned about her baby girl.
She received the unwelcomed call from Dr. White while at Big Mama’s house, where she only planned to stay for a few days while she cleared things up with Edmond. Spending a day away from her loved one was grueling to her soul. However, she had to tough it out, if he was to have any clue of the impact his actions had on her. She was making her stand through her pain, hurt and frustration. Through it all, she found her voice and she felt empowered.
Big Mama was displeased in her actions and wanted her quickly to go back and apologize to her husband for stepping out of line. Big Mama believed that when a man is chastising his son, a mother is to stay out of it and in her place. She basically held on to the sentiment that women were to be submissive at all times, especially if the man was financially supporting the household. Her daughter didn’t have a stream of income that would support her if anything were to happen. Housing her adult daughter due to her own admission was not what Mrs. Anita White-Whitfield was going to tolerate.
The call from the doctor did not alleviate her situation. It caught her by surprise. She thought just as her husband believed, that their little girl was still pure, not broken like them. They attempted every means to keep their children away from suffering; and even so, life had its way of creeping in without warning and causing havoc. She informed the doctor that she would be on the next flight out to see about her daughter. She knew it was long overdue for her to share some things with Debra. As her mother passed along jewels of wisdom to her in her time of transition from adolescence to adulthood, it was time for her to do the same.
Charlene hesitated before walking into the room. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly, not knowing how Debra would receive her. The flight measured long enough for her to devise the perfect entrance, or so she thought. She previously missed her call as she fought to preserve the life of her first child. At the moment when she was needed most, she was bickering, at odds with her husband, creating a deeper wedge in their already toxic relationship. She was absent, not there in the way that she needed her to be. She even wrestled with the thought that maybe everything that had transpired with her daughter was her own fault. If she had only been there for her a little bit more, to speak with her about boys, the birds, and the bees. Instead, she left her alone, abandoned to make sense of the world through the lens of her peers and her personal encounters. She grabbed a bouquet of white lilies on her way in from the hospital gift shop, as a peace offering, with the intention of striking a chord that would lead to harmony.
She tapped lightly on the door, not to startle her, but to notify her daughter, she had arrived, coming to her rescue. Without a response, she decided to let herself in. She placed the flowers on the small table that lay adjacent to her daughter’s bed. Debra was asleep. Charlene could not wait a moment longer to get all of this hurt, pain and animosity shared between the two of them out into the open and put it all to rest. She rolled over a chair to sit and wake her. Debra was normally a light sleeper, so it didn’t take much for Charlene to get her up.
“Debra? Baby? I’m here. Mama’s here for you.” She stated with a bit hesitation nudging her lightly on her side.
“Mama? Is it really you? You came for me.” I have to admit, I was shocked. I knew she would come, but I had my doubts, and she was alone. My mother didn’t travel alone. Then I remembered the phone conversation the previous night with Samson. “Is everything alright with you and daddy?” I could see the hurt in her expression as soon as I finished the question; in a way I almost regretted asking.
“That is what I would like to talk to you about. I spoke with the doctor and she informed me about everything. The 9-1-1 call, the pregnancy and the miscarriage.” She waited a moment before continuing to keep herself from crying too soon. “I should have been there for you. I’m sorry. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Tears began to well up in her eyes. She couldn't help herself. She gently wiped the corners of her eye with the back of her index finger knuckle to keep her makeup from running, although it was too late.
“Mama, it’s okay. You are here now and that is all that matters.” I hated to see her cry or anyone else for that matter. It always gave me this weird feeling, as if I was going to cry too, even if I was unable to relate or empathize with the pain. The time I spent lying in the hospital bed allowed for me to think several things over about life and family. Life is entirely too short to spend at odds with my own mother. I know she did the best she could within her ability.
“No, Debra. It is time that we discussed this. You are old enough now and based on your current situation, you are mature enough to handle what I am going to share with you.”
I wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading. The feeling I experienced when the doctor was explaining her report was creeping up on me again, but I knew in my heart it was time. I decided to let her have the floor with no interruptions, so I could hear her out and understand how we got this far and where things went astray. I grabbed her hand, nodded and she began.
“When I met your father, I was only eighteen years old. He was a very handsome, determined and sought-after young man. He was successful and he took care of his business. It is what attracted me to him along with the other women in school who had eyes and common sense. I knew he was in a relationship at the time, but for some reason it didn’t matter to me. The way he looked at me made me feel as if I was the only woman in his world. I wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. He gave me his time, his energy, his dreams. He allowed me into his soul. In the beginning of our relationship, I was tolerant of many things. I knew he was a young man who was not ready to settle down and I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted either, so we were content with what we had. The other woman that your father was dating at the time had a 3-year-old son. We were not officially dating, but we had created a deep bond and friendship. He confided in me. Edmond was excited about being a father, until the day he found out that it wasn’t his. He was devastated. I was there each and every day to pick up the broken pieces of his heart. It devastated him that he was not the father and in many ways, he was unsure how to cope with it. He turned to alcohol when things really got tough.”
“Mama I don’t think I want to know this. What does this have to do with my situation?” I could feel my body slightly trembling, as she got deeper into the story. I made it a point to avoid knowing their business. What I knew already was enough for me. Nonetheless, she continued.
“Your father felt betrayed by this woman and it almost ruined him. But I was there! I was there!” Her voiced raised slightly to add emphasis. She was no longer looking at me, her eyes were affixed on the drapes, but her mind was elsewhere. “Your father did a lot of dirt in his day to provide a stable home for both families. At times, he was lost and confused. He went back and forth between me and her for a while and I allowed it. I knew that he loved me and we had true love. I despised that woman. She took a piece of my man that I fought years to get back, to restore. He longed for that child. I let him go and stay with her at times, if only for a moment; so he could have that piece of his life. However, I knew that he would ultimately be mine and that he would be my husband. I knew what I had to do; I had to get pregnant. I had to conceive a child of my own and everything would get better. I did things I never even shared with your father. So many times, I was unable to carry a baby to term. I had several miscarriages to the point it was taking a toll on him even more. So I researched fertility options. My best friend at the time agreed to be my surrogate, but that failed because she was taking anti-depressants and the embryo died within the first week. I would like to say after much prayer, finally, I got pregnant, but I didn’t pray about it. I went about everything the wrong way. Samson was my miracle baby though; I was twenty-five when he was born. The doctors thought that he was dead when I delivered him. Debra, it was the happiest moment of my life because I knew that I would be granted the life I dreamed of; the man who was my soul mate would finally take me as his wife. You see, he was hesitant to marry me without the possibility of a family. The day Samson came into the world, our lives changed, for the better…and then the worse.” A stream of tears rolled down my mother’s face, her hands were trembling.
Until this moment, I had never witnessed her so transparent, so real. I caressed her hand to let her know that I was there for her and it was safe to continue. It was becoming evident to me why all of this was necessary, why she treated Samson the way she did. He was her ticket; he equated a world of bliss for her.
She dabbed her eyes to catch the newly forming tears. “I didn’t plan to get pregnant with you a year and a half later. Money was tight for a while. Our relationship was up and down, a roller coaster, and yet again, your father was in and out of the house. So I resented you for it. I thought if I could just focus on Samson and get him right that things would get better and I would have the wedding and marriage I always dreamed of.” She shifted and faced me, looking directly into my eyes, “I want you to know that I love you and I never meant to hurt you in any way. You can come to me. We can work this out.” There was nothing but silence; we felt one another’s energy and love, and for the first time, we cried together, exposing our suffering. I didn’t want the moment to end. I had been yearning for my mother’s love and affection for so long I didn’t know how to ask for it, so I acted out. I was not a bad or disrespectful child in any way, but I feel that all of this was a cry out for help.
We held each other and lay suspended in the moment. It all came to a sudden halt when the sound of my father’s custom ringtone entered our atmosphere, our newly created alliance. My mother held me tighter as though she was not concerned with the caller on the other end, but I couldn’t stand for their feud to continue. Her transparency needed to be shared with my father. There was so much that I learned in our moment about the rise and fall of relationships, the evolution of love.
My father was persistent after each unanswered call; he made another attempt to get through. I watched my mother go through a range of emotions and contemplation. She would stare at the screen and shake her head, taking in a breath while holding back her tears. Over and over, the ringing sounded and engorged our room, our space. I knew she needed time, but time is what nearly severed our relationship our chance at happiness and trust. Again and again and again, the sound rang out from her Android phone. Finally, after much struggle, she surrendered.
“Hello.” She tried to keep her voice low to keep their conversation private. I couldn’t hear my father, but I read everything through my mother, her words, and her emotions.
For her to show up, to put me, as the priority in her life is all I ever needed. Her existence in my life is all I cried out for, but it was my time to be there for her, to be her anchor. I held her up as she emptied out her contents to my father, no yelling, no cursing, no screaming, just conversation and apologies.
“I love you, Edmond. I will be home soon, right in time for our anniversary. We have a lot of making up to do.” She blushed for the first time in years, at least by my own account.
I had a good feeling that things were destined to get better. They had to. However, I knew it would begin with me getting out of the hospital.
Dr. White made it clear that everything was ok and I was in good condition to go home. She stressed to me that there are some cases where it becomes difficult for women to have babies, but with the advancement of science, technology, and new alternatives that one-day, I may have the chance to have a baby. Both, the doctor and I knew that it was much too soon for me to worry about it anyway.
“Mama, just hurry up and sign those papers so we can go home.”