The Candy Shop part 2 Kiki Swinson
Reaching Out To My Family
Today marked my sixth day in the program. It seemed like the longer I was in the facility, the better I felt about being there. I credited Denise for holding me down during my stay. If it wasn’t for her, I would have been gone after the first day. The only down side to this whole thing with Denise and all the favors she had done for me was that I knew she wanted to fuck me and maybe engage in some kind of relationship. I was not down for that bumping and grinding on another woman’s pussy. That was just not my thing. Now I’d fucked random niggas, I sucked their dicks, and I even fucked two to three niggas at the same time, but I’d never been intimate with a woman. I wouldn’t even know how to embrace the idea of it. So the next time she tried to come on to me, I was going to play her ass to the left and act naive as hell.
But I wasn’t going to let my potential problem with Denise ruin my outlook. Since I had been clean for six days, I figured it was a good time for me to reach out to my in-laws and tell them the good news about my recovery. I was sure that they’d be really excited for me. Immediately after our afternoon NA group meeting, I rushed into the hallway to snag one of the payphones before they all became unavailable. After I used the change, I was going to be completely broke again. I needed some cash and a few personal items, but I was certain that after I’d gotten in touch with my ex-husband’s parents, they would come to my rescue.
My heart rate sped up a bit while I listened to the phone line ring. When I heard Mrs. Simmons’s voice as she answered the phone, I instantly became nervous. “Hello,” she said. Her voice sounded faint, but I could still hear her.
“Hi, Mom, how are you?” I asked. I tried to make my voice sound upbeat.
She paused for a second. “Faith, is that you?” she finally asked.
I smiled. It felt great to know that she remembered my voice. “Yeah, Mom, it’s me.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“You won’t believe it when I tell you. But I’m in a drug rehab,” I said with excitement.
“Where?”
“I’m at the Salvation Army in Virginia Beach off Virginia Beach Boulevard.”
“My goodness! I didn’t know that they had a drug rehabilitation center.”
“Yeah, they do, and the staff members that work with us are great people.”
“Good for you,” Mrs. Simmons replied. Then she fell silent again, which made me feel a little awkward. It was like she didn’t know what else to say. I chimed in and asked her about Eric and Kimora.
She cleared her throat and said, “Oh, they’re fine. Eric should be here any minute. He called about thirty minutes ago asking me if I’d watch Kimora for about an hour so he can run a couple errands.”
“Wow! That’s great. Maybe I’ll be able to speak to them both before I get off the phone. I mean, it’s been almost two years since I’ve last seen Kimora, so I’m sure she has gotten taller.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s sprouting up like a bed of flowers.”
“How is she doing in school?”
“Oh she’s doing great. Eric brought her over here a few days ago so me and her granddaddy could spend some time with her.”
“I’m sure she had fun.”
“She had a ball. We took her outside in the backyard and let her play on the swing set we bought her. And then we let her ride her new bike up and down the sidewalk in front of the house. She loved every minute of it.”
“I’m sure she did,” I replied, and then I changed the subject. “Has Eric asked about me?”
“Well, um . . .” Mrs. Simmons began to say, as if she was trying to collect her thoughts. “He brought your name up a couple of times,” she finally admitted.
Hearing her say that he had talked about me gave me a sense of hope that we still had a connection. It was like music to my ears. “So what did he say?” I asked, pressing the issue.
“Well, um, the reason he brought up your name a couple of times was because Kimora has been asking her daddy when you were coming home. She doesn’t like the fact that Eric went on with his life and got remarried.”
Shocked by Mrs. Simmons outburst my heart sunk and I thought about what I was going to do from this point forward since there was no chance that my ex-husband and I were going to reconcile. Not only that, the thought of my baby girl asking him when I would be coming home made me feel even worse. It was obvious that Kimora wanted her mommy and daddy back together, but with his new bitch in the way, that would surely pose a problem.
I stood there with my back against the wall while my heart began to crumble. All the hopes of me getting my family back were trickling down the drain, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. He had already moved on with his life and gotten remarried, just like his mother had said. I was just a distant memory.
“Faith, are you there, honey?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m here,” I replied as my voice began to crack.
“Sweetheart, I am so sorry!”
I cleared my throat and wiped the tears from my eyes. “There’s no need to be sorry, Mrs. Simmons. I did all this to myself,” I said. And at that moment I realized that I had called her Mrs. Simmons instead of Mom. And before I was able to utter another word I heard Kimora’s voice in the background.
“Hey, Grandma, who are you talking to?” I heard her ask. And the moment my baby opened her mouth, I felt a flutter in my heart. My heart felt somewhat empty, but there was still a spark left inside me. I felt a connection to her immediately and I couldn’t get her name out quick enough.
“Is that my baby?” I got excited. “Please, can I talk to her?” I asked.
Mrs. Simmons hesitated. “Well, um, let me ask Eric if it’s all right,” she finally said.
“Ask Eric?” I snapped. “Why would you need to ask him if I can speak to my daughter?”
“Well, um—” she started to say, but I cut her off.
“Look, Mrs. Simmons, it’s been two years since I talked to my baby. Now you’ve already expressed to me that she keeps asking Eric when am I coming home, so it’s apparent that she misses me. If you would kindly put my child on the phone, I would greatly appreciate it,” I replied sarcastically.
“Wait, hold on a minute,” she said, and then she put down the phone.
While I waited for her to put my baby on the phone, I was thinking about all the fucking names I could’ve called that lady. I mean, how dare she tell me she had to get permission from Eric so I could talk to my damn child? What fucking planet was she from?
A couple minutes passed and I didn’t hear a damn sound. I thought the crazy lady had hung up the phone on me until I heard some rattling sounds. And then I finally heard a voice, but it wasn’t my baby Kimora. It was Eric. “Faith, what do you want?” he didn’t hesitate to ask.
Stunned by his candor, I said, “Well, initially I called to talk to your parents to see how they were doing and tell them about my news of being in drug rehab. But then when I heard Kimora’s voice, I wanted to speak with her.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”
Hearing Eric tell me that I wasn’t going to speak with Kimora got me really irritated. “Why not?” my voice screeched.
“Because I said so,” he snarled back.
“Because you said so!” I mimicked with sarcasm. “You’re going to have to give me a better excuse than that.”
“Listen, Faith, I am not going to sit on this phone and argue with you. I told you that you are not going to talk to her, and that’s final,” he roared.
“What you’re doing isn’t right, Eric, and you know it.”
“No, correction, Faith, what you did to me and your daughter wasn’t right. You damaged her when you left.”
“Do you have to keep reminding me of that? I know I fucked up. And that’s why I’m getting help for it now.”
“It’s a tad bit too late for that, Faith. We don’t need you around anymore. Our lives are so much better since you left. I have a new wife, and Kimora has a new mother, so things are perfect for us.”
“That bitch is not her mother!” I screamed through the phone.
“Kimberlie may not be her biological mother, but she’s a better mother figure than you’d ever be,” he snapped back.
“Oh, so that’s who you ran off and married, your fucking divorce attorney, Eric? How fucking low could you go?” I screamed.
“Look, Faith, I’m not gonna keep going back and forth with you about the decisions I have made in my life. You did what you felt was best for you, and I did the same. Now as far as our daughter is concerned, she is doing fine. Does she miss you? Yes, she does. Would she like to talk to you? I am sure she would love to. But I don’t think that it would be good for either of you.”
“Speak for yourself,” I replied sarcastically.
Eric sighed heavily. “I’ve got to go,” he said.
“So that’s it? I don’t get an explanation about why I can’t talk to my daughter?”
“Don’t play dumb Faith. And I wish you would stop playing the victim. It’s not about you anymore. It’s about Kimora. So if I choose to protect her from your empty promises, then deal with it, because there’s nothing you can do about it. Remember, I’m the parent with the full custody. So whatever I say goes. Now the quicker you understand that, the better off you’ll be.”
“That’s how you’re carrying it? It’s over just like that?”
“I gotta go, Faith. You take care,” he said, and without a moment’s notice, he ended the call. The phone line went completely dead. The dial tone blared out into my ears very loud and I immediately became devastated. I almost collapsed to the floor, but Denise came on the scene and helped me contain myself.
“Give me the phone,” she instructed as she eased the phone out of my hand. After she placed it back on the hook, she allowed me to put my weight on her as she escorted me back to our room. I felt so weak, like my legs were about to give way from the weight of my body.
As soon as I stepped into my room I took a seat on my bed. My head started aching really badly, so I lay on my side with my back facing Denise and started balling my eyes out. She sat on the side of my bed and began massaging my back. “My life is over,” I said and sobbed.
“Don’t talk like that, Faith, because you know that’s not true.”
I turned over and sat down on my butt. I looked straight at Denise while the tears kept falling. “Do you know that my ex-husband refused to let me talk to my fucking baby? Talking about how I damaged her. And then on top of that, he had the nerve to tell me that he went off and married his fucking divorce attorney. Now tell me, Denise, who does that? Who marries their fucking divorce lawyer?” I continued to sob.
Denise pulled a Kleenex from her back pocket and used it to wipe my eyes and face. “Look, Faith, Eric may have moved on with his life and got himself a new wife, but by law he can’t keep you from your daughter. All you got to do is finish this program, get a job, and find yourself a place to call home, and a judge will be glad to give you visitation rights. And then, who knows, six months or even a year later, you could petition the courts for joint custody. So don’t count yourself out yet. You still got time because she’s still young.”
“Denise, I don’t have that kind of time. I want to bond with my daughter now, not a year and a half from now. By then Eric will have her brainwashed and hating my guts.”
“Even if he did do that, it won’t work. Your daughter loves you,” Denise said, trying to convince me, but her words basically went through one ear and right out the other. I knew my ex-husband. I knew what he was capable of doing. Manipulating people was a craft that he’d mastered. So I knew getting back into my daughter’s life wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was it going to be anytime soon, so I figured, why even bother to get myself together?
I wiped the last bit of tears from my eyes and then I got up from the bed. Denise sat there and watched me as I went into my locker and grabbed the little bit of items I had acquired during my ten-day stay at the rehab.
When Denise finally realized what I was doing, she stood and rushed to my side. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting out of here. I don’t have a reason to be here anymore,” I told her.
Denise grabbed my things from my hands. “You need to stop talking crazy,” she said. “There is no way in the world I am going to let you give up on yourself like this. It took will power for you to leave those streets to come in here and get treatment. So for you to let all that go because of your ex-husband’s actions isn’t fair to you. You deserve a better life, Faith. And being here in this place will take you in the right direction.”
I really wasn’t trying to hear Denise’s lectures. The way I was feeling, there was nothing she could possibly tell me that would make me stay. I was over it.
“Denise, I don’t care about those things,” I said, referring to the items she held in her hands. “You were the one who gave them to me, so you can have them back,” I told her, and then I stepped away from my locker. I turned around and started walking toward the door, but she stopped me in my tracks. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me backward.
“I’m sorry, Faith, but I can’t let you do this to yourself.” She apologized as she held a tight grip on my arm.
I tried to break away from her, but her grip was too tight. My tiny frame was no match for her two-hundred-twenty-five-pound body. It was obvious that she cared about my well-being and wasn’t about to let me go back to the streets. It had been a while since I had been in the company of someone who generally cared about me.