His Reason, Her Choice (3 page)

Never mind that Karen didn’t have any kids. Joy pushed away this terrible thought, but she couldn’t help the anger. All of a sudden, she was even worse off than she was before today.

Karen reached across the desk to touch Joy’s hand, and Joy had to fight not to draw away. “If you need a reference, tell me. I’ll write you up as the most amazing shampoo girl that ever lived.”

Joy gave a dry laugh. “To who? Who’s going to accept that I can’t work on weekends? I’m the stupid one for not trying for something more in life. I could have given my career a lot more effort.”

“Don’t come down on yourself. When we started out, it looked promising. We had big dreams.”

“We had big balls,” Joy corrected. “Or maybe you did, and I was just tagging along.”

Joy thought about the girls. Safer might have been keeping her legs closed or being more careful with birth control. She wished she could put everything on pause and re-evaluate for a minute. That wasn’t possible. Now she had two weeks.

“If you want, you can take today off.”

Joy rose to her feet, which hadn’t stopped hurting from the day before. “No way. I need the tips. Let me get out there.”

“Don’t you want to at least cry in the bathroom for a while. Or if you want, we can cry together right here.”

Joy turned away, steeling herself. “No, I’m good.” She didn’t tell Karen she’d done more than her share of crying, but she did it in private. That night when the shock wore off, she would probably cry some more in the shower where no one would hear or see.

“N
o, thanks. I understand,” Joy said and disconnected the line. She dropped her head into her hands. What was she going to do?

“Mommy?” Nicolette’s head popped into view beyond her fingers. Her hair was a mess, as usual, and a smudge of something lay at the side of her lips. “Are you crying?”

Joy raised her head. “No, baby, I’m not crying. What have you been eating?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh, so that brown spot isn’t chocolate?”

“Weeeell.” She watched as the wheels turned in Nicolette’s head. Her little girl debated lying. Joy drew Nicolette closer and kissed her. Then she looked around for Denita. The days had passed by too quickly, all without her being able to land another job. She was coming to the end of her rope.

Before discussing the situation with the girls, Joy decided to give her mother a call. Dread turned her insides out, and she left the girls in their room playing to walk into hers. The number was on speed-dial, but she wished she had lost it. Even if she did, she knew her mother’s number. Nothing had changed for the last twenty-seven years she had been on Earth.

“Wow, I never expected to hear from my only daughter,” her mother said when she answered the phone. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Ma, don’t start, please,” Joy said. “I just wanted...” She hesitated to come right out to say what she wanted. “To tell you the truth, I’ve run into some trouble. I was laid off my job and—”

“What job, Joy?” her mother cut in. “As far as I’m concerned, shampoo girl was never a job.”

Joy sighed. “I also did nails.”

“I’m assuming since you said
did
and not
do
, you’re not doing them anymore. And since you’re calling, you must want money.”

“Do we have to go through this every time I call?”

“I wasn’t the one who laid down with every man that ever smiled at me.”

“Ma!” Joy ground her teeth. She clenched the phone in her hand until she heard something crack. All her willpower kept her from throwing it across the room and then deleting her mother’s number if it still worked. “I didn’t sleep with every man that smiled at me.”

“Your daughters have two different fathers, and everybody knows it. I can barely lift my head in church.”

“So this is about you and not me?”

“It’s about those poor girls that have to grow up with your shame.”

“I don’t have any shame!” She pulled the phone from her ear and stabbed the mute button. Aware of how her words sounded, she fought with her temper. Even with the phone in her lap, she heard her mother lecturing. No matter how often or how little she called, it was the same thing. Her mother tried to make her feel like garbage for her choices. Never mind that past mistakes were in the past. Her mother saw her as a loser, and let her know it each time they spoke.

“Are you listening to me, Joy?” her mother shouted.

Joy took the phone off mute and held it to her ear. “I need to know one thing, Ma. Will you help me or not?”

“How much
help
are you looking for? I’m not made of money. I get your father’s social security now that he’s gone, but it’s not much.”

Joy thumbed a tear away. “That’s okay. I’ll figure out something else.”

“What is that boyfriend of yours doing? You’re not pregnant again, are you?”

“I’ll talk to you another time.” She started to hang up.

“If you need to, just come home.”

Joy paused. “What?”

“I have room here, and this house is paid off. I don’t mind watching my granddaughters during the day while you work. But you
will
work. You’re not going to just lay up in my house and expect me to pay your bills.”

For a second Joy came as close to throwing up in her rage as she did whenever she had sex with Isaac. “I have never ‘laid up,’ Ma.
Ever
. I’m not lazy. I’ve always done everything I could to take care of myself and the girls.”

“Then why are you asking me for help?”

“Forget it. I made a mistake.”

“Oh don’t get all high and mighty, Joy. Like I said, just come home to Atlanta. Maybe I can help raise those girls the right way, and they won’t end up like you. The last pictures you sent had me worried the way you’re letting Nicolette get fat. I’ll put her on a diet. Is that other one still mouthing off? I can straighten her out too while I’m at it. You never were a good mother. Too young when you started.”

“That other one?” Joy said. “That’s how you refer to Denita?”

“You know what I meant.”

“Yes, I know exactly what you meant, Ma. I have to go.” She hung up without another word. Despair hung heavy. At first mention, it did seem like a good idea to just go back home. Free childcare from her mother would solve a lot of issues, but if she was just opening up her babies to constant criticism, it wouldn’t work.

“La, la, la, la!” Both Denita and Nicolette came dancing into the room with paper plates over their faces, holes cut to expose their eyes, nose, and lips. They had drawn on the plates with crayon and wore Joy’s blouses over their clothes that they must have taken from the laundry. She’d skin them both.

“Don’t cry,” Nicolette sang. “Turn around.”

“No, dummy,” Denita said. “It goes dry your eyes.”

“Don’t call me dummy!”

The song and dance came to an abrupt end, and while her daughters argued, Joy took a moment to do just what they encouraged her to do—dry her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose. “Enough, you two. Was this supposed to entertain me? I think y’all forgot all about me.”

“It’s Denita’s fault.”

“It’s your fault,” Denita said.

Joy reached out and grabbed an arm of each child. She drew them to her and squeezed them in her embrace and kissed them both.

“Ugh, Mommy, why do you have to keep kissing?” Denita complained.

“Because I love you and Nicolette. You’re both so yummy, I want to eat you.”

Nicolette’s eyes widened. “You want to
eat
us?”

“Yup.” Joy made munching noises as she nuzzled Nicolette’s neck. Her daughter screamed, and then Joy tickled both of them. They tumbled to the floor, and Joy fell down after them, pretending to attack. Squeals of laughter pierced the air, and she kept it up, trying to stave off the time when she had to find a solution to her problem—one that would work for all three of them.

* * * *

G
o home or stay. Go home or stay.
The words swirled round and round in Joy’s head. Every time she thought of staying in New York, even more dependent on Isaac, a sick feeling came over her, and she wanted to pass out. When she thought of going to her mother’s, she got the same pains.

The fact of the matter was Isaac didn’t make enough money to pay all the bills while she tried to find another job. They didn’t have any savings unless one counted the thirty dollars she had in a separate bank account. When she set it up, she kept it secret from Isaac with the intention of adding money regularly as backup for an emergency. Somewhere along the way, her plan died. Thirty dollars was a joke.

Joy checked her cell phone. She had heard from Isaac. He would be home at seven tonight. That was in an hour, and she would have to tell him the truth. For almost two weeks, she had kept the fact that she lost her job to herself, hoping something would change. Nothing did, and he would probably get pissed she hadn’t said anything.

Her cell phone dinged.

“What are you doing?”

Joy sighed at seeing Russ’s name. “Feeling sorry for myself.”

Seconds after she sent the text her phone rang, and his deep voice sounded over the line. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She smiled. “I didn’t want to say anything. It’s just a rough patch.”

“Spill it.”

Everything in her wanted to hear his words of sympathy, but she held back. Russ was a nice guy. He might offer financial help, and worse, she might take it. She didn’t want to take their friendship down that road. He was a distant but good friend, and money stuff could ruin it.

“Joy, if you don’t start talking, I’m going to sing.”

She burst out laughing. “Do you have a sixth sense?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded confused.

“Denita and Nicolette were in my room earlier trying to sing so I’d stop cry—” She bit her tongue, regretting the words.

“Why were you crying?”

“I wasn’t,” she lied.

For a few moments, he didn’t say anything. She wondered if he was angry, but couldn’t recall ever hearing him get angry. Then again, when they spoke, they kept things light. She hadn’t wanted to get too deep into money problems, at least not all the time. Once in a while, Russ had offered advice, being an accountant. He was the one who prompted her to start the separate bank account, but she hadn’t followed through.

“We joked about it last month, remember?” he said. “I told you I went to a friend’s party, and we were there like kids singing. Everybody laughed because I’m tone death. This story sounding familiar?”

“Oh, yeah,” she whispered, but she heard something in his tone. He wanted to know what her deal was.

“I lost my job,” she blurted out.

“Damn, that sucks, Joy. Do you need anything?”

She clenched her jaw. “No.”

Tips helped pay for their electric bill. She had none, and the due date fast approached. Joy fell back on the bed and shut her eyes. She took a few minutes to pull it together so he wouldn’t hear her fear or find out how hopeless the situation was.

She forced a smile to her face. “You might be seeing me sooner than you thought.”

“No way, really?”

“Yup. I’m moving back to Georgia.”

“That’s great news. Give me your new address, and I’ll bring you a housewarming present and take you and the girls to dinner as a welcome home.”

“That’s sweet.” She thought of her mother’s house and almost gagged.
Yeah, not letting Russ come over there to be ridiculed.
“I-I haven’t settled on a place yet.”

“Joy, I’ve known you for years, and I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped. “If I don’t care to share every tidbit of my life with you, that’s my choice!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“No,
I’m
sorry. It’s just a lot of changes I wasn’t ready for.” She rubbed her eyes. “Can I talk to you later?”

“Sure. Remember, I’m here. Just ask me. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

A pang stirred in her heart, and she thanked him with words that were hardly more than a breath. Then she disconnected the call, rolled over, and cried. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was a bad mother.

Denita and Nicolette deserved so much more than to struggle in life. Joy hated every time she had to tell them no for the simple reason she couldn’t afford something. Not because they didn’t deserve it or because they misbehaved. Her girls were good and sweet. They had their ways that she had to correct them on, but they weren’t wild and uncontrollable like some kids she had seen at the school and at daycare.

If she could just do more and give them a solid, stable, and most of all happy, home. She had to figure out a way to do better and soon.

J
oy stepped out of the shower and dried off. She swiped a hand over the mirror and stared at herself without really seeing anything. No, she saw the dark rings around her eyes for having been up half the night. She heard the sound of Isaac’s voice in her head, ragging on her one minute for not saying anything about the job situation and hinting that he knew what would make her feel better.

She pushed a hand to her mouth and shut her eyes. Then she remembered the text, and she picked up her phone. Russ didn’t know the hell she went through with Isaac. She still hadn’t told him about that, but she had confessed last night while Isaac was sleep about her options.

“Is she that bad?”
Russ had texted.

“Worse. I’ll tell you a story.”

She had shared how her mother degraded her and made her feel worthless. Fear that the woman would do the same to Denita and Nicolette opened her up to let him call. She still hadn’t let herself cry while he was on the phone, but Russ had heard the bitterness.

“She’s not going to screw up my daughters. I’ll live on the street before that happens.”

“Joy, you can’t do that.”

“I know. I’m just being dramatic. I just need some damn time, and I don’t have it here.”

“I can give you some money. I have savings.”

“Hell, no.” She’d said no again, but she was wavering bad. Something told her in the end, she would break down, but it meant staying in the situation with Isaac.”