Ex-girl to the Next Girl (8 page)

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“My mom said I have to read three pages of the dictionary a day to improve my vocabulary. She said I play too many video games.”

“That's nice,” I said.

I continued to walk around my class. My mind began to think about Quentin. I bit and chewed at my fingernails.
Why hadn't he call me since Sunday? He didn't call me yesterday.
I kept thinking about everything he said and what I said and what I did to see if there was a reason why he wouldn't call me. It seemed like it was going so okay. We got together two times, and they all were very nice dates. I'm not his girlfriend, but damn, I deserve a call. Maybe he's upset I didn't let him come over that night. Oh well, I was asleep.

It had been one week and Quentin still had not called, not one time. I was too old for this shit. I would have more respect for him if he would have hit it and quit it. But no, he had to string me along. There had to be a logical answer, but what could it be? There I was, asking Toya for advice, and the girl couldn't even figure her own life out.

I was like, “Should I call him?”

“I don't know. I wouldn't call him. That's just my opinion,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I would wait.”

“It has been a week.”

“So, let another week go by. He knows your number, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

I called Quentin anyway. I had to see what Mr. Detective was doing. I was so mad at myself as soon as the phone started ringing. I cleared my throat.

“Hello,” he said, all cheery. So he wasn't dead and he could have called me.
Okay
. I took a deep breath. I had to not sound mad, not sound irritated. But
how dare you not call me, bitch?
I adjusted my temperature and sounded as relaxed as I could.

“Um . . . hey, Quentin. It's me, Nadine.”

“Nadine, I know your voice. Hey, how you doing?”

“Fine.” I answered. His conversation was so laid-back, like he just wasn't at the hotel licking me raw. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” I asked, trying not to pry.

“I'm out having dinner with a friend.”

Out having a date with a friend translated to:
I forgot whose number this was, and that's why I picked up. I'm on a date, so I'm trying to holler at her now, and I got to downgrade both of y'all to make it seem like it's not that serious so that I can still get with either one of you when I get ready.

“Oh, you're at dinner. Okay, well, I'm going to let you go,” I said, disappointed and hoping he would say,
Hey, no, it's my friend Charles from college
, or
No, I'm with my brother
. Instead he said, “All right, talk to you soon.”

Chapter
11

I
was at my psychiatrist's office, Dr. Olivia Weltz, waiting for her to enter. This was my third visit, and I was becoming comfortable discussing my problems. When the doctor entered the room, she sat down and began recording our visit.

“Kim, have you been taking it easy like I suggested? Have you?” she said, tilting her head to the side, trying to evaluate my answer.

“I try to take my children out when I'm not working. I signed my oldest son up for karate lessons and we have been to the aquarium,” I said.

“That's good. But what have you done for you? Something outside of your children. I know that you love your children, but you have to love Kim. You have to get better to take care of them.”

“You're right.”

“So what do you like to do? What makes you happy? When was the last time you were totally happy?”

I pondered her question.

“I don't know. I haven't done anything for me in a long time.”

She handed me a journal and told me to write down how I felt about Malik, Demetrius, what I could do to change my situation, and five things I used to enjoy.

“Like a hobby?” I asked.

“Yes, like a hobby, and go do two of the things and the other three schedule for the next month.”

I thanked the doctor and said I would see her next week.

“Okay.”

What did I like? What made me happy? I'm going to love me. I like music, relaxing, perfumes, and body washes. I like to smell things. I went to the Strawbridge's perfume counter. I loved music. I went to a FYE music store and browsed. I decided to buy myself some CDs. I loved the Mary J. Blige
My Life
CD. Okay, then I went and found Erykah Badu's first album. I loved it. That was a good CD. 'Kay, who else? I like Kelly Clarkson from
American Idol
. I picked up her CD. Okay. I thought that was it. But then I saw the
Ready to Die
by the Notorious B.I.G.

I opened my CDs in the car. The music took me to another place back in the twelfth grade, the summer before college, before the kids and the relationships, when I was just Kim that didn't have to worry about anything but me. Wow, that was a great time. I even sprayed the coconut fragrance all around my car. It was all about me.

I drove to my mother's house. She was in the kitchen, washing the dishes. The smell of beef ribs permeated the room.

“Where are the boys?” I asked her.

“Kianna came and took the boys to the movies.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she playing stepmommy to her man's kids.”

“Man? Kids?”

“Yup, her new man got three, and one she said was a possibility,” my mom said sarcastically. “I'm only repeating what she told me,” she said, correcting herself and hunching her shoulders.

“Well, that's nice.”

“How was your session?”

“It was great.”

“That's good. I'm going to finish fixing my dinner and after that I'm going to feed the boys and bring them home.”

“You sure, Mom?” I asked.

She said, “Yes, and go home and get some rest.”

 

 

Once I was home I couldn't rest. I got to sit in the bubble bath without somebody screaming,
Mommy, he did that. Mommy, I'm hungry. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.
The house was quiet. I was having my break. I listened to my Kem CD. The telephone was ringing. I didn't bother answering it until it rang again. I jumped out of the tub, all wet and naked, and answered the telephone.

“Kim.”

“Yeah?”

“Hey, sis. Um, Karen said she was going to keep the boys for you.”

“Tell her she doesn't have to.”

“She already put them to sleep. Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm good. I'm just going to relax.”

“You have to give Malik the baby sometime. You are not hurting him. You are hurting you. You know that, right?” Now even Kianna was giving me advice.

“I'll talk to you later, Kianna.”

“You need to get back out there and have a social life and have fun, Kim. Me and Karen are going to take you out and reintroduce you to the world.”

“Okay, thanks for thinking of me. I'll talk to you later,” I said.

 

 

I got up and realized I had fallen asleep on the sofa. I turned the television off. I made myself some coffee. Then I just sat and wrote a list in my journal. I listed what was going right in my life and what was going wrong and what I needed to change. I tried to think of everything. I wrote down that I have to find Kevin's father. I have to find Darius. Darius date-raped me back in college. I got pregnant, dropped out, had Kevin, and never saw Darius again. Father's Day came and went every year. I almost was in tears. I was in tears just thinking about all the people who don't have dads. My sons don't have fathers. I don't let Malik see Kayden and I have no idea where Kevin's father is. I didn't even know if Darius is aware that he has a son. I was determined to find him.

 

 

I called a private detective. He told me that to start he would need at least a thousand dollars down. I didn't have that type of money. I didn't know where else to begin, so I called down to Delaware State University. I told one of the administrative staff my real story. She said she would pray for me and gave me his last known address. I then called directory assistance.

“Do you have a Darius Miller at 8427 Highstown Place?” I was stunned when she began to recite a home telephone number. I copied the number onto my hand. I thanked the operator and stared at the number. I called the telephone number. An older man with a shaky voice answered.

“Hello, may I speak to Darius?”

“Who's calling?”

“Kimberly Brown.”

“Kimberly, are you from the congregation? He moved, honey. Him and Jocelyn moved to Detroit. I'll tell him you called. Bye.” He hung up the phone and then I called back.

“Hello.”

“Yes, I am a friend from college.”

“Well, give me your number and I'll pass it along.”

“Okay, thank you.”

I was tired of taking care of Kevin by myself. If Darius didn't want to have a fatherly relationship with him, the least he was going to do was pay for my son every month.

I
called Tae and decided to bother her. “So what's up with Poppa Smurf?” I asked.

“I had to drop him. He can't do it unless he popped a Viagra,” Tae said while sniffling.

“Iiillll! I can't believe that you had sex with that old man.”

“He was forty-seven—that is not old.”

“That's disgusting. I wouldn't talk to anyone over the age of thirty-four and younger than twenty-five.”

“Love don't have no age limit. But fuck that old bastard. He didn't pay my car note yet. I wouldn't have got this stupid car if it wasn't for him. I don't even have a job.”

“You will soon.”

“I hope so. The first time in my life I want to work, and I can't find a job. Well, the good news is I got this young boy and he is the truth.”

“How old?”

“Not that young.”

“How old is ‘not that young'?”

“He's twenty-three—his name is Kenneth.”

“You have five years on him.”

“I know, but he's young enough for me to school him. Listen to the message he left me.” Tae dialed her answering machine and I heard her young boy professing his love.

“Tae, I'm so glad you came into my life. I can't wait to see you this weekend. I think I'm falling in love with you. I hope you feel the same way. I never felt this way about anyone so soon.”

“Girl, he wants me to be his girl,” she gushed. I wanted to tell Chantae she was twenty-eight—she was too old to be someone's “girl.” And she had only been dating him a few days, so what if he was leaving cute messages now? That doesn't last. It is always like that in the beginning.

“Tell me you not falling for that,” I asked.

“Yes, I am. Matter of fact, I'm about to call him now.”

“Well, what does he do? What are you going to do with a young boy?”

“He is twenty-three—that's old enough. I mean, it's not like he is twenty-one. I'm going to mold him. He already got his mind straight. He work for FedEx as a driver and he hustle CDs on the side.”

 

 

I received my correction officer's test results back in the mail.

“Baby, I passed the corrections officer's test! I got a ninety-one,” I yelled to Malik.

He came out of the kitchen and said, “Shonda, I don't think I want you working at a prison full of rapists, murderers, and robbers. I'm going to be putting those kind of people away, and you're going to be tending to them.”

“It is a lot of opportunity.”

“What opportunity? You are going to go to the top as a prison guard? I'd rather you go to college and get a degree in something.”

“Well, I want to try it. They have full benefits and I would have a set schedule. I am going to at least try it out.”

I called Tae.

“Girl, I got my results. I got a ninety-one.”

“That's good! I'm out with Kenneth. I'll call you back.”

I had to go for an interview. If I get this job, I'm quitting. I'm not even going to give them two weeks' notice. I'm going to be out with the quickness.

The next step was for them to conduct a background check—like if I ever been to the jail to visit anyone. Then you had to list all the people in your household. That was easy: just me and Bree.

 

 

Jarrod was over our house. Malik and him were sitting back, watching a basketball game. I tried being nice and making small talk and asked, “How's Heather doing?”

“She's okay,” he said, without even looking up at me and sipping on a Corona.

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

I left them alone and went upstairs to get ready for bed. Tae was calling me back on my cell phone.

“Girl, that is crazy you got a ninety-one.”

“Yeah, did you get your results?”

“Yeah, I got a damn sixty-seven. If I would have three more points, I would have made it.”

“Dag, that's messed up.”

“Yeah, especially 'cause I got this car payment and I put you on. I'm not going to worry about it. Something will come through for me. I'll talk to you later.” It sounded as if she was jealous of me getting in. It wasn't my fault she didn't pass. That was some real hating shit.

They called me in for three interviews, a mental analysis, and did a thorough background check. They wanted to make sure I didn't have a relative I was trying to help escape. I got a call-back and they said that I was hired and had been selected to enter the academy.