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Authors: Terry McMillan

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #Contemporary Women, #Family & Relationships, #Friendship, #streetlit3, #UFS2

Getting to Happy (46 page)

BOOK: Getting to Happy
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Thank God for girlfriends.

The next morning, it took forever to unroll ten bottles of reasonably priced French perfume from inside ten washcloths I’d borrowed from the hotel. I think I need a distributor. I went to the bank and deposited Isaac’s loot. When I got back in the car, I found myself making an illegal U-turn when I saw an ASPCA. Before I knew it, I was walking out with a brand-new brown-and-white kitten. I named her Mocha. She is seven weeks old. When I got home, I got her all settled in and set up. Like an idiot I went and dug out an old picture of my first cat, Yasmine, and showed it to her. Mocha wasn’t moved.

I took my laptop out on the deck and ate my delicious lunch: a cup of lentil soup with a half turkey-breast sandwich made on high-fiber whole-wheat bread, with one teaspoon—not tablespoon—of mayonnaise and mustard, a few slices of honeydew and a half cup of steamed broccoli.

I put the dirty dishes in the sink, rinsed them off and, as soon as I finished, turned the faucet off. It continued to drip. I leaned on the counter, placed my chin in the palm of my hand and watched that drip until it felt like I was being hypnotized. I knew all it needed was a new washer. I don’t know how to do that, and I was not calling a plumber for a hundred and fifty dollars an hour to change it. Instead, I went back outside and sat in front of my laptop. I logged on to the junior college closest to my house and found a continuing education class called Household Survival. I was happy there was still room. It starts in two weeks. That drip can wait.

I spent the next hour wading through all the websites that had been set up for sending money for Katrina victims. I was looking for the most legitimate ones that would guarantee the money you sent online would actually get to its intended destination. And since I really hadn’t been counting on Isaac paying me back, I added a couple of thousand to it and sent a third toward hospitalization and medical help, another third for books and school supplies and the rest for food and clothing. It looked like temporary housing was
finally
starting to happen since George Bush had
finally
come home from his fucking vacation and
finally
declared this to be a state of emergency.

I’ll be so glad when we get a new president.

Today I Got a Letter

Bernadine talked John’s ear off the first two hours of the drive home. He hadn’t seen her this animated and energetic in years. “I feel like I’ve been in hiding,” she said.

“Well, I’m glad our daughter doesn’t have to hide anymore either.”

This threw Bernadine completely off. “So, she finally told you.”

“She did.”

“What was your reaction?”

“It was tougher than I thought. Hearing her say it. But then I thought about how hard this has been for her. So. I told myself this wasn’t about me. I needed to put my feelings aside.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Look, Bernie. You and I’ve known this about Onika for years.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

“What would’ve been the point?”

“Maybe we could’ve made it easier for her.”

“I think she was waiting to feel comfortable.”

“So, you’re okay with it?”

“What difference does it make? I’m not about to make my daughter feel bad because she’s a lesbian. My biggest regret is her not giving us a grandchild or two.”

“She’s not sterile, John. Gay and lesbian couples have babies like everybody else. They can also adopt. Joseph and Javier just adopted two little boys.”

“No shit? Well, Onika won’t be doing much of anything with that Shy girl.”

“You mean it’s over?”

He nods. “It was another camp counselor.”

“Is Onika okay?”

“Seems like it. She’s just happy to see her brother and her soon-to-be sister-in-law. That Bronwyn is a real nice girl. She’s smart as a whip and I love that Texas accent. Our son is happy.”

Bernadine smiled.

“They’re not sure if you want them to stay with you since you’re just getting your bearings back.”

“Of course I do.”

“That’s what I figured and that’s what I told them.”

The melody of George Benson’s “Breezin’ ” started coming from John’s cell phone. As soon as he pressed TALK, Bernadine heard him say, “We don’t need to talk about Katrina right now, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he handed the phone to Bernadine. “It’s my other daughter.”

“Our,”
Bernadine said. “Who’s Katrina? Hello, Ms. Taylor. And what is it you could possibly have to say to me?”

“She’s a female disaster who’s been stirring up a lot of trouble trying to get President Bush’s attention, but he blew her off. Enough about her. I missed you, MomMom. And guess what?”

“I can’t even begin to.”

“We’re making dinner for you. It’s a surprise. So act surprised, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did everything go okay?”

“Everything went fine, Taylor.”

“I’m glad to hear it, MomMom. So. The other thing is this. I’ve been doing some serious thinking and I have come to the conclusion that it would be better if I stayed with my dad because he’s lonely and he’s got that big prostate issue and I think he needs me. Plus, he’s been coming home earlier and we’ve been talking about all kinds of things. I never knew he was so interesting.”

“I always thought he was.”

“I’m starting to like him more as the weeks go by. Anyway, I just want you to know I’ll be more than happy to spend weekends with you should you wish to have the pleasure of my company. That is, if your social life isn’t too hectic.”

“What social life?”

“Exactly. I understand this is one of the things you’ll be working on.”

“Who told you that?”

“Auntie Robin. You may or may not know her love life has certainly picked up since you’ve been away.”

“How do you know this?”

“Sparrow. She said her mom has finally gotten laid and how much nicer she is. That she’s fallen for this super nice guy Michael, a real blast from her past, and things have gotten hot and heavy and are picking up more steam than a locomotive around their crib, and this weekend they’re in Napa Valley—you know, that big wine area in California—but they’re not picking any grapes. They’re bonding.”

Bernadine’s mouth dropped open. This girl reminded her so much of Rona Barrett from way, way back, it wasn’t funny. She was just glad it was good news. So Michael’s back? Welcome back, Kotter. Wow. Go away for a month and look what happens.

“MomMom, you still there?”

“I’m still here. Any more news to report?”

“Actually, I do. Can I help it if people trust me enough to confide in me?”

“I suppose you can’t.”

“Anyway, Auntie Gloria and Uncle Joseph found a fresh new spot for Oasis, and Bonnie is still in deep shit. Sorry. You know I meant to say
trouble.
But she’s drowning in it.”

“Who’s Bonnie?”

“Nickida. As in Bonnie and Clyde? Me and Sparrow would like to kick her sneaky ass. She is such a ho. So you’re not upset about my not moving in?”

Bernadine didn’t feel like reacting to Taylor’s swearing. She was actually getting a kick out of it. “No, I’m not upset.”

“Good. You might want to know that Auntie Savannah has diabetes. Not the kind you have to shoot up. She just has to take a pill. Anyway, she’s not freaking out about it. She takes her meds and I hear she’s actually lost a pound or two since she’s now eating with a conscience. Anyway, she had an amazing time in Paris. She bought us all some perfume. Mine smells like formaldehyde. If you like it, you can have it. I left it on your desk.”

“Diabetes? How do you know all this, Taylor?”

“Because she called to make sure you were doing okay in rehab. She was talking to Dad on speaker.”

“Is there anything else you haven’t mentioned?”

“I think that pretty much covers it. Anyway, MomMom, we’re all looking forward to seeing you in a couple of hours. I love you! Tell my dad I have nothing else to say to him right now. Byeeeeee!”

Bernadine handed the phone back to him.

“She’s a talker, isn’t she?” John said.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

As soon as they walked in the door, Bernadine was greeted with hugs and kisses and high fives and we-missed-yous and you-sure-look-great-Mom and this-is-Bronwyn and so-nice-to-finally-meet-you-and-thank-you-for-letting-us-stay-here-we-promise-not-to-get- on-your-nerves-or-overstay-our-welcome-and-yes-we-do-windows and here-feel-it’s-in-there and we-don’t-know if-what-we’ve-cooked-will-compare-with-what-you-do-in-the-k itchen-but-you-will-eat-it-and-love-it.

“Please let me take a shower first,” Bernadine begged. They ushered her through them like she was in the
Soul Train
line. She headed upstairs.

Ten minutes or so later, Onika tapped on Bernadine’s door and eased her way in. “Mom, are you almost out of the shower?”

“Drying off,” she said. Bernadine wrapped the towel around herself and walked out into the bedroom. “I’m almost ready. Five minutes is all I need.”

“No one’s rushing you, Mom.” Onika acted as if she wanted to sit but decided against it.

“Come in here while I put on a little makeup and comb my hair.”

Onika leaned against the doorway. “So how are you feeling, Mom? You sure sound good.”

“I feel good, O. I do. I’m giving myself another chance to get this right.”

“You haven’t been doing it wrong, Mom. You’ve just been on a detour. And we’re all glad to have you back.”

“How about you? How are you feeling after telling your dad?”

“Okay, I guess. He’s trying so hard to put up a good front. I give him credit for that.”

“He’ll come around. I heard about Shy. How’re you holding up on that end?”

“Shy and I are cool. We’re young. She broke my heart but there are more mermaids in the sea.” She smiled when she said this. So did Bernadine.

“Can I ask you something, sweetie, if you promise not to get upset or offended by it?”

Onika sat down on the floor in a lotus position. She looked up at her mother, all ears.

“What’s it like being a lesbian? No, strike that. That’s not what I want to know. Have you ever been with a boy or guy?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“What was it like for you?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“You have to work too hard.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“Not with all of them,” Bernadine said.

“I can’t sleep with all of them. Plus, I had to explain myself too much.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that women understand women. We can skip the bullshit—forgive me.”

Bernadine chuckled. “I wonder if I should try it.”

Onika chuckled, too. “To answer your original question, Mom, it’s not about
being
with a woman. You have to be drawn. And it’s not all sexual. Too much emphasis is placed on the physical. It’s a feeling of comfort I get. And safety. Something I’ve never felt with a guy.”

“Well, I feel like this toward my girlfriends, but I can’t say I’ve ever had a desire to
be
with a woman.”

“Then take this off your list of things to do, Mom.”

“Consider it done.” Bernadine headed for her closet.

Onika followed. She took a deep breath. “I have something for you,” she said as she pulled an envelope from her back pocket and handed it to Bernadine.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from James. I’ve held on to it for five years. You seem strong enough now. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

Bernadine looked at Onika. And smiled. “There’s no reason to be mad. You were just looking out for me.”

“Cool. I’ll meet you downstairs,” Onika said, and she closed the door behind her.

Bernadine sat on the edge of the bed and slowly opened the envelope:

Dear Bernadine:

Even though you may not even read this, it will make me feel better knowing I reached out to you. There are not enough words in the dictionary to describe how ashamed I am for the harm I caused you. I’m sorry for violating your trust, for deceiving you, and I hope I didn’t ruin it for any man that may have come after me. If so, please don’t punish him or shortchange your heart because of what I did. You deserve to be happy. You’re a wonderful human being and a beautiful, intelligent woman. I just wanted to be smarter than you. I’ve hurt a lot of people because of my selfishness. My punishment doesn’t cover the impact of the emotional crimes I’ve committed. My life is a wreck. I’ve been in prison almost two years and have three more to go. No one has visited me since I’ve been here, and I don’t blame them. My daughters don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I just wanted you to know that when people do bad things to others, it always catches up to them. I’m a good example. Anyway, I hope your children are thriving. I’m sure they are. You don’t have to tell them I said hello, because I know they probably hate my guts. Who could blame them? Bernadine, please know that from the bottom of my heart I am truly, truly sorry. Jesse.

BOOK: Getting to Happy
8.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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