Unexpected Love

Chapter One

A Glance At The Past

Sitting on the window terrace of her condo, TC meditated on her strengths, goals, and desires. She opened her eyes every so often to take a sip of gourmet loose tea that she ordered regularly from her favorite tea place, Zacari Tea House. She always drank her favorite flavor, Garden of Eden, every morning during her meditation. She used it to help her focus and had developed a ritual. Every morning at 4:30 she got up to fix her tea, grabbed her handheld organizer, and headed for the terrace.

This morning was no different. The morning breeze blew, and her locks sailed like flags blowing in a soft breeze and dropped to her back. TC took another sip and closed her eyes to meditate. With her eyes still closed, she reached for her organizer to view her itinerary for the day. Before looking down, she took in a deep breath, and then exhaled.

Opening her eyes to glance at the organizer, TC couldn’t help but notice the seagulls on her parking lot. “Man, those are some big ass birds today,” she mumbled to herself. “Now, let’s see what’s on the itinerary for the day. Advance Grammar from 8 to 8:50, Math from 9 to 9:950, 10 to 10:50 come home for lunch and shower at 11, Biology from 1 to 1:50. Finally, Chemistry at 2 pm, and then Library from 3 to 8 pm. Oh yeah, that’s right. I’m supposed to get a new professor. Dr. Kimoto had to leave the semester early because of a family emergency. I hope everything works out ok for him. However, it does work out for me because I didn’t know what the hell he was saying half the time anyway. Thank goodness for the library and tutors. Otherwise I would not be on the Dean’s list.”

She started rocking side to side and dancing with her shoulders. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m an
A
student. I’m an
A
student.” After she was done acting like an idiot, she cleared her throat, and reverted back to her solemnity. She sat their stiff as a board.

As TC was about to end her morning rumination, she looked down at her wristwatch noticing it was 6:00 am. Standing up, straightening out her red satin shorts and camisole, TC heard some noise coming from the next building in her complex. A young woman was running behind a man. She had short blonde hair and fair skin. TC could not tell if she was white or black. The woman grabbed the man’s arm. As he pulled away she lost her balance and fell. TC stepped forward and grabbed the terrace rail and yelled, “What the hell, are you crazy?”

The couple was too far away to hear her because they were too busy fussing and yelling at each other. The woman was crying and crawling on her knees begging for the man. TC looked on with astonishment. She could not believe what was taking place before her eyes. She thought the man was abusing this woman.

“All men are assholes. I don’t know if I should leave and call the police or stay here in case he hits her again. I can be a witness. What the hell, I can’t believe this bastard.”

The man turned around and walked to a double-parked black convertible Jaguar. He threw his hands up in disgust. By this time TC could hear a faint buzzing going off. It was the alarm clock for her sisters to wake up. “Good, maybe El or Dee will come out of the room, and I can tell them to call the police.” Before TC realized, the man pulled off. The woman was getting up off the ground. Staring at the woman made her have a flash back of her past.

TC could remember back as young as the age of two years old as well as the trauma in her life. She could still hear the screaming and crying from her mother.

“Please, please, don’t hit me anymore”, her mother screamed to many of her boyfriends. She’d turn to TC and say, “Babe, go in your room and play with your dolls. I have to talk to this man about some business.”

TC watched the men grab the back of her mother’s hair as they would guide her into her bedroom. They would close the door in TC’s face as she watch terrified.

During another incident, TC remembered a knock at her front door. TC hid all the beer cans, cocaine packages, and paraphernalia on the living room table. The knock on the door was harder and more rapid. She opened the door out of breath thinking she cleaned the house spotless, but how much could one expect from a nine year old?

“Hello, Ms. Daniels,” TC said to the woman at the door, “my mother wanted to know if can you come back next week. She is not here right now.”

“Well, where is she? She knew she had an inspection today. Also, I don’t understand why she would leave a nine-year-old child in the house all alone. How long have you been here by yourself?” the social worker asked.

“I haven’t been here that long, just three or four hours,” TC stuttered.

Ms. Daniels waved her hand to someone outside the door. “Casey, I want to talk to you. I need to take you to my office, sweetheart,” Ms. Daniels stated. “Don’t be afraid.”

TC started to cry when she saw the police enter her house. She heard her mother screaming and crying. Her mother had been in a dead sleep with a man in her bed. The two of them were getting high all night, but TC was trying to cover it up.

The police told TC’s mother that they were arresting her for child neglect, possession of drugs, and prostitution. They said that child protective services had received numerous anonymous calls, had an open investigation case, and Ms. Corrine Shaw had been under surveillance for some time, and due to the charges we’re taking over the custody of the child named Casey Tylia Shaw also known as TC.

“No, no, no, you will not take my baby from me.
TC! TC!
”

“Ma’am, why are you performing like this in front of your child? You are upsetting her. If you really care for her, you should stop fighting us and comply with your arrest,” the officer said sternly.

TC’s mother replied by saying, “Go to hell, you bastard. All men are nothing but bastards!”

TC sat in the back of Ms. Daniels’ car with her face buried in her hands. Tears filled the palms of her hands like water in a wash bowl. She lifted her head as she wiped her eyes. On the other side of the window were her two best friends El, Laurie-El Towanda Ellis, and Dee, Desauni Obeyda who happens to be an African. Dee’s family was from Uganda, Africa. TC’s community was migrated with a lot of African natives. They had stayed in touch with each other by mail and phone.

Recalling her experience, TC shook her head. “Yeah, I remember, Ms. Bulldog Longwich. She was one mean foster parent. She treated me so bad,” TC muttered.

“You ain’t nutin’ but trash. Your mother is trash, your father is trash, and you is trash. You think you is all that because you have long hair and perdy skin. Well let me tell you something, missy-poo. There is nutn’ perdy about you. Around here you will be the rag doll. You will do all the work. I don’t want you to become all swollen, thinking you is better than everyone else. I will teach you to be humle.”

TC recalled Ms. Longwich remarks. “She meant to say humble, but she had an IQ problem. She never finished school. That’s why everyone used say she failed kindergarten. I think she was jealous of anyone that seemed like they might make it or had some type of potential for a better life.”

It wasn’t until TC wrote to El about how Bulldog Longwich would make her scrub the toilets with toothbrushes, wash everyone’s clothes, cook, and clean the whole house that brought about a change in her life. At the age of sixteen, TC knew how to take care of a home. That was when her friend, El, asked her mother to adopt her and take her into their family.

That was when El, Dee, and TC declared their sisterhood for life.

“I swear, El, as long as I live I will never be like my mother. I don’t know who my father is, but I do know he broke my mother’s heart. My mother wanted him, but when he found out she was carrying me, he dropped her like a hot potato. All she told me is that he was from a wealthy family. I thought she was lying about that too. She told me he was an African and from somewhere in Ethiopia. I thought that was the first lie, but she called me a dumb winch and told me to look in the mirror. She said ‘why you think your skin is so smooth and rich brown? And features like your eyes, eyelashes, cheekbones, and your eyebrows are so defined? It’s because you are a part of those damn Africans. Your hair grows so much, I started locking your plats. You get your good hair from me. That’s why it grew down to your butt.’ I thought everyone had smooth skin. I didn’t see any difference in my skin,” TC reflected.

TC felt a bump and jumped. El tapped her on her shoulder, and TC snapped out of memory lane.

“Hey, girl, what are you doing out here? You look like you saw a ghost or something. Why is your face so pale?”

“I, I, I …”, TC stuttered and hesitated as she tried to answer El.

“Look, miss, I’ve got a plan, so you need to stick to the schedule. You’re going to fall behind if you don’t get going.” El prompted her by clapping her hands. “Chop, chop, let’s move it, girl!”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just that I saw this couple arguing, and the woman fell to the ground. It made me reflect on my past. I was thinking about my mother and all her drama,” TC replied.

“Girl, please, don’t remind me. All of that is just that—your past. Your mother is no longer living, God bless her soul. Those damn drugs and sorry ass men got the best of her. She is out of her misery now, and you were fortunate enough to be blessed with another real mother, my mother. No, let’s restate that, our mother. So let that mess go. Get over it and move on. I know you went through a lot, but that was the whole purpose of you getting therapy. It was to help you put all that behind you. What? It didn’t help?” El looked at TC with her eyebrows raised, mouth open, and hands on her hips with a puzzled look on her face.

“Of course it did. It’s just that every now and then, I think about her,” TC answered.

“So let that mess go. You determine your destiny. That’s why you have all those organizers, planners, your trust fund, goals, and that big ass map of the world on your wall in your room of all the places you plan to travel to and visit. And foremost, you have your sisters. Girl, don’t ever forget that!” El affirmed.

Dee entered the room and approached the terrace. “Preach! That’s right, girl. We are here, right now and forever. So whenever you find yourself down that lane again, don’t start trippin’. Just remember what we told you, TC. Don’t make me break out in Swahili on you. It is too early in the morning.” Dee started laughing. TC knew it didn’t take much for her sister to start speaking Swahili, especially if she got mad or excited.

Later, sitting in class, TC realized she had arrived five minutes early. The class filled up fast, and at last, the professor came in—late. He began class by apologizing for his tardiness. TC reminisced on her past again, not noticing the professor at all.

“Casey Tylia Shaw, do you know why you are here in the Judge’s chambers? Did Ms. Gilda Longwich tell you the purpose of this meeting?” asked Ms. Daniels.

TC replied, “No, I don’t. I mean, no, she, um…”

Ms. Daniels interrupted. “I can see you are a little confused and afraid. Let me help calm your fears by telling you what is going on. Do you remember Mrs. Ellis, your old neighbor?”

TC’s eyes grew wide and filled with tears as she saw Mrs. Ellis enter the room. She jumped up and ran to hug Mrs. Ellis. They both grabbed and held onto each other like an unbreakable lock. TC responded in a crackling voice, “Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis are my godparents. They used to babysit me when my mother … when my mother...” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Mrs. Ellis squeezed her more and said, “It’s okay, babe. I’m here. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“TC, come have a seat,” requested Ms. Daniels. “Mrs. Ellis showed us your letter about your stay with Ms. Gilda Longwich. She has been under investigation for some time, and your letters gave us more evidence to permanently suspend her license to operate as a foster parent. She may be facing charges for child neglect and abuse. All the children she cared for were afraid to speak or testify against her.”

TC replied angrily, “Well I’m not. She told me nobody wanted me. She said this was all a lie, a trick, and I was really being taken to a dungeon for bastard children.”

While TC still daydreamed, she heard a faint call of her name.

“Casey Shaw.”

She snapped out of her temporary trance as she heard her name being called for roll. “Here. Casey Shaw, here,” TC shouted.

The professor didn’t raise his head, but continued to look down as if his eyes were magnetically stuck to the roll sheet. TC grabbed her books, holding them tight as if they were a shield to protect her from some fiend. She looked at the professor and mumbled under her breath, “No, it can’t be. I know that’s not
him
. This is not that man in the parking lot.”