Courtin' Jayd (7 page)

“Just what I said. You know I've got your back no matter what,” I say. Now he looks hella confused. “But that's not what I want to talk about,” I say, quickly changing the subject before Mickey returns. “What's up with your boy and don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about.” I know he doesn't want to let go of what I just said to him but he knows better than to avoid my questioning, especially if it's about Rah. Looking defeated by my stare, Nigel relaxes his stance and begins to share.

“All I know is that Sandy and Trish got into it at Westingle on Monday. It was pretty bad,” he says, shaking his head from side to side.

“Sandy,” I say, surprised to hear her name. She was my Misty before I got to South Bay High. When she first came to Family Christian, I befriended her crazy ass only to find out she slept with Rah—who was my boyfriend at the time—in the boy's locker room and had his baby nine months later. After she gave birth to their daughter, she tried to use the baby to manipulate Rah but it didn't work. She ended up moving suddenly to keep Rah from his daughter. Just the thought of her makes my blood boil but it doesn't change the way I feel about Rah right now. “When did she get back in town and what does that have to do with him not calling me all week?”

“I'm not sure when Sandy got in town and neither is Rah. He was just as surprised as we all were to find out she was back,” Nigel says, glancing toward the library door, anxiously awaiting Mickey's return. He seems nervous about seeing her and he should be. Like Sandy, Mickey can be vicious when someone gets in the way of what she wants. But at least she's not crazy. “All I know is that Trish got messed up pretty bad and had to go the hospital. Why he's not calling you I don't know anything about.” So Rah is getting my messages and he's all right. I admit I'm relieved to know it's not about us, but in a way it is and until I get the full story from him, he's on my shit list.

“Please let Rah know that he's in hot water with me and the sooner he calls, the better it'll be for him.” I look at Mickey push through the door and she doesn't look so good. Her hair looks a little tangled like she just stepped through a whirlwind or something. Maybe she got sick and had to throw up again. Comes with the territory for her. I guess being pregnant isn't as cute as she thought it was going to be.

“Yes sir, Jayd sir,” he says, saluting me like I'm his general before Mickey tucks herself under his arm, staking her claim. I hope that possessive display isn't for me because she's got another thing coming if she thinks a broad can come between Nigel and me. We've already been down that road before and I'm the one still standing. I need to get out of here before I'm late for government class. Jeremy's already left his post by Nellie and Chance, who are making the most of their time together. I hope she doesn't risk Chance's heart to get a shot at Nigel, as Mickey thinks. I don't want any of my friends to get hurt in the mess.

“At ease, private,” I say, slapping his hand away from his forehead. “Just make sure Rah gets the message.” I choose to ignore Mickey's attitude and walk to class. It's funny how dudes act when they want to be with you, but have a strange way of keeping their distance when things start to get too serious. Until I hear from Rah, I'm pushing him way down on my priority list. I have to get through the rest of this school day. I'll worry about our relationship after the final bell of the day rings.

F
or the rest of the school day I felt like I was in a time warp. Sandy being back in Rah's life isn't good for anyone, especially me. There's nothing I can do to help Rah if he doesn't tell me what's going on first. Plus I need to talk to him about Mickey's baby. And I can't help Nigel without ratting my girl out. It feels like my hands are tied and my friends are the ones holding the rope.

As I walk down our block I can't help but remember Esmeralda and Mr. Gatlin's strange exchange this morning. I wonder what kind of noose she's got around his neck. They say that there's someone for everyone but I don't think that's true. If it were, me and half of the people I know wouldn't be in the messes we find ourselves in on a regular basis. Getting closer to Mama's house, I notice two Compton police cars parked on the street and in the driveway. This can't be good. They never stop by to say “what's up” in our hood. The neighbors are all outside watching the drama unfold. I hope Mama didn't go off on another one of Daddy's women.

“Jayd, your grandmother said for you to go straight to the backhouse when you get home,” my neighbor Brandy says from her seat on the porch. I was half expecting to see my Uncle Jay sitting next to her, smacking on the barbeque ribs and coleslaw she's having for dinner. I'm assuming we'll be eating takeout at our house tonight too.

“Thanks, Brandy.” As I get a little closer to home I see Rah's red Acura parked across the street. I guess he got my mes sage from Nigel. Rah's used to the constant arguing at my house so whatever's going on won't be new to him. It's still embarrassing that my family has to have the cops come and solve our family battles sometimes, but at least we're not alone. Almost every household on this block has the same issue.

Walking up the driveway I can see inside the dining room window where the officers are taking a report from my Uncle Junior. It looks like this battle was between my uncles this time and not my grandparents. Mama and Daddy are probably the ones who called the police. Ever since my uncles started to use weapons on each other, my grandfather has stayed out of their fights, and Mama was never in them to begin with. If she could, she'd make a potion to vanquish them all from her house, Daddy included. But it's not in her heart to do that—at least not yet.

“What's going on in here?” I say as I open the garage door to see Bryan, Jay, and Rah sitting in a circle eating Subway, one of my favorite meals. If Rah thinks he can butter me up with food, he's only partially right. It's going to take a whole lot more to get back on my good side than a value meal. It is a good start though, because a sistah is hungry. I didn't want to spend the money I made braiding Bryan's hair on food and the lunch we have during rehearsal isn't all that. The booster club moms who provide lunch are into the healthiest, nastiest food available and I can only take so much of it.

“Eating, that's what. And staying out of the line of fire,” Jay says, smacking on his chips while talking to me. “Let's see what else is on,” he says, reaching over the small card table to the black-and-white television propped up against the wall.

“How was school?” Bryan asks, trying to bridge the gap between Rah and me. He knows we haven't spoken all week and I'm hot about it. If Bryan and Jay weren't here, I would have ripped into him from the door. But per Mama's suggestion, I'm trying to keep a cooler head these days.

“School was school,” I say, sitting down in the empty seat across from Rah, who's in a daze and waiting for me to make the first move, his usual mode of operation when he knows he's wrong. “What's going on in the house?”

“Your other dumb-ass uncles got into it over the iron,” Bryan says, totally unaffected by his older brothers' behavior. We're all used to their shit.

“There's blood all over the carpet,” Jay says, leaning back into his seat before picking up the deck of cards in front of him and dealing them counterclockwise. Daddy taught us how to play Spades, Bidwiz, and Blackjack when we were younger. Now we're both pretty good at the card games.

“It's only a few drops. You exaggerate the truth worse than a chick sometimes,” Bryan says, taking his cards and putting them in order. By the way he's organizing his hand, we must be playing Spades. I pick up an unopened bottle of water from the table and begin to drink while making myself comfortable. If Rah doesn't pass me my food soon I'm going to snatch it away from him without saying a word.

“And what are you doing here?” I say to Rah, who hasn't stopped looking at me since I sat down. He hasn't picked up his hand yet either. From the way we're seated, we're forced to be partners. I hope he came with his A game because he knows I play to win.

“I came to talk to you but I think your grandmother needs your help in the back. Here's some dinner for you. I thought you might be hungry,” he says passing me the six-inch veggie and cheese sandwich with cheddar cheese and sour cream Ruffles in the bag. This is my favorite Subway meal and I love that he knows that. I can tell by the look in his eyes he's mournful, but that won't be enough to appease my hurt.

“Thank you, I guess,” I say, not easing up a bit. I'm so mad at him I could spit. But before my rudeness can get the best of me, I hear Mama walking from the backhouse into the garage. She's probably been waiting for me to get home so I can help her in the spirit room. I didn't even get to change out of my school clothes before being summoned to work. And who knows how long the police will be here.

“Jayd, you can talk to them later,” Mama says, entering the dimly lit room. I can tell by her voice she's in no mood to bargain with me but it's still worth a shot.

“Mama can I eat first? I'm really hungry and I just sat down.” Bryan, Jay, and Rah look at me like I just signed my own death certificate. Before I can apologize, Mama walks across the garage floor to look me in the face. I know I'm in for it now.

“We have work to do,” she says sternly, eyeing each of us before walking out the back door toward the spirit room. I guess me grilling Rah will have to wait until later if I want to live long enough to do it.

“Damn Jayd, you've got some big balls for someone so little,” Bryan says, making us all laugh. They wouldn't dare question Mama and usually neither would I. I really want to eat and vibe with Rah but Mama's work always comes first.

“That's what makes her a queen,” Rah says, passing me my bottled water. “I want to talk to you about this week,” he says, rising to walk me out. Even when we're seated I feel like a midget next to him.

“So talk,” I say, getting up from my seat before putting the food into my backpack and walking out the back door. Bryan and Jay look at Rah as if to say “I'd hate to be you right now” and they're on point with their feelings. There's no way I'm letting Rah slide on this one. “I've been calling you all week. Did you get my messages or is your phone broken?”

“Jayd, come on. I hate it when you're mad at me,” he says, taking my hand and spinning me around to face him. He smells so sweet and fresh. I want to hug him and fall into his arms, but I can't. Not yet. “Listen to me.”

“Listen to you say what, Rah?” I snatch my hand away from him and cross my arms around my chest. I have to get to the spirit room; I've kept Mama waiting long enough but I need to wrap this conversation up real quick.

“Jayd, just give me a chance to explain.” Rah puts his hand on my shoulder and I almost give in—almost.

“Why should I when you can't keep your word to me? It's okay for you to shut me out of your life when it's convenient and then come waltzing back into mine when you're ready?” I pause to let him respond but he's too shell-shocked to say anything so I'll have to answer for him. “Hell no, Rah, it's not okay with me and my feelings aren't a faucet I can turn on and off at your command.”

Mama comes back out of the spirit room to empty a bucket of water into the adjacent garden and to call for me again. Noticing Rah and me in a heated conversation, she gives me a look letting me know I need to wrap it up, and soon.

“Jayd, I know I messed up. But you know how Sandy is and with Trish getting hurt fighting her I guess I just didn't want you to be next.” His eyes say sorry but his logic is still way off.

“Next? Don't you mean first?” I say, reminding him that I've already been through hell and back with him over Sandy's crazy ass. “You're treating me like I'm sitting on the sidelines watching the show, but I'm not. I'm right in the middle of your tired-ass game and I'm sick of playing with you.”

“Jayd, wait,” Rah says, pulling me back, but I'm done talking for now. “It's not like that. You know you mean everything to me. Can we just talk about this, please?”

“Everything? If I mean so much then why did I have to find out what's going on in your life from Nigel?” Silencing him for the time being, I walk toward the backhouse ready to clear my head and help Mama clear hers. Rah knows better than to come back here without my or Mama's permission. Unless invited by one of the Williams women, the spirit room is no-man's-land and they all know it.

 

When I finally reach the backhouse, Lexi's in her usual spot resting across the threshold, effortlessly ushering me into Mama's therapeutic fortress. The entire space isn't much bigger than our living room but is packed with a lot more stuff. All of Mama's spirit tools are neatly organized, which makes it cozy and warm in here. The same scent of night-blooming jasmine and honeysuckle that's ever present in Netta's shop lingers in this small room as well. The warm air and sweet smells instantly calm my nerves, causing me to momentarily forget about Rah and my hungry stomach. All I want to do is be in here and help Mama work. As soon as Mama looks at me, I remember questioning her in front of the boys and feel instantly ashamed.

“You can eat first if you need to,” Mama says from her station at the sink. She runs the cold water across her hands and stares at me for a few moments before looking away. She's sorry too and I feel her pain. Her sons have hurt her yet again and her one female ally in a house full of men would rather hang with the boys instead of doing the women's work required to heal the household.

“No thank you. I'm good,” I say, closing the screen door behind me. I can hear the garage door shut and then the back gate. Rah has left for the evening, leaving me to my work with Mama. She's already lit the candles, giving a golden hue to the already yellow walls. My normal spot at the table is already taken by Mama's many tools. This is my safety zone from the crazy world outside.

Before I can get in the room good, my phone vibrates. When I flip it open, Rah's name appears on the screen. Now what?

“Peace, Jayd. We're not done talking. See you tomorrow after school. I love you, girl.”

Why do I keep letting him back in after he hurts me? Maybe it's because I know it's not intentional, but that's still no excuse. Rah should know better by now than to leave me hanging. And if he really loves me then he should respect my feelings, not just do what he thinks is right. I fold up the phone and slip it into my purse, ready to give Mama my un divided attention.

“Why do we deal with men?” I ask Mama as she dries her hands on a yellow kitchen towel before passing me fresh white clothes to put on. I'm not sure exactly what we're working on today, but from the looks of the ingredients spread across the kitchen table, it must be heavy.

“The better question is why do we allow them to deal with us?” Mama says as she chops up several bunches of fresh spinach from the garden. She also has a bowl of boiled eggs, cinnamon sticks, a grater and other dishes, scallops, fresh shrimp and fish on ice, five jars of honey, and a large machete with a big bottle of palm oil next to it.

“I feel you, Mama,” I say, putting my backpack and purse on the shelf closest to the door.

“You see how your uncles act and yet they each have women running after them like they're God's gift to the universe.” Mama's on point with that one. Each of my uncles except for Bryan and Junior have baby mamas that would fight over them in a minute, and I don't why. I'll be damned if I'm going to fight over a dude who's still living with his mama in his thirties or even twenties, for real. “Those trifling-ass fools were in my house fighting over whose turn it was to use the iron. Now mind you, it's my iron but like a bunch of toddlers, they decided to claim it and throw a tantrum when someone else wanted to use it.”

“Mama, easy on the spinach,” I say, hanging my shirt and jeans over the top of the white bamboo Chinese screen before opening it and joining Mama at the kitchen table. She's diced the spinach up so finely, it's almost liquid. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“Yes,” Mama says, passing me the cinnamon sticks and the grater. Why do I always have to do the menial task? “As usual, your Uncle Junior got his ass kicked.” Being the smallest of the lot, Junior always loses against any of my other uncles but he never presses charges. I don't even know why they bother calling the police.

“He looked okay when I saw him talking to the police,” I say, grating the cinnamon into a glass bowl. It smells so good and refreshing. I swear, doing the work is half the healing process for me.