Natural Beauty (11 page)

Cornrows:
Underhand braids formed against the scalp.

~~~

Hair
Tip #17: Be your own hair advocate. If going to a hair stylist is something you
can afford and you enjoy, by all means keep doing it. But learn the truth about
hair, especially your own. Don’t let them talk you into styles are treatments
that might be unhealthy. Seek advice, but in the end, you should know what is
best for your hair.

~~~

Trent
and I had a comfortable relationship.
If you could call it a
relationship.
Maybe acquaintanceship would be a more appropriate word.
We mostly stayed out of each other's way, but we covered for one another when
needed.

"Where's
Bishop?" Mr. George asked at our weekly meeting.

"Oh,
um, flat tire," I said quickly. Don't know why I really said it. I had no
idea whether he had a flat tire or not, but he could have. Something had to be
wrong.

The
truth was, Trent had left for lunch around 11 and hadn't come back. That wasn't
like him. He usually never even left his desk for lunch let alone the building.

After
the brief and pointless meeting in which Mr. George informed us of all the
latest trends in social media, which by the way were usually already outdated
and useless by the time he got to them, I went back to my desk and tried to
figure out where Trent could have disappeared to.

I
remembered he left right after we got our mail. I leaned over and looked at his
desk. It wasn't like I was actually going to read his mail or anything, but it
might give me a clue as to what happened to him. I shuffled a few of his papers
on his desk but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Deciding
I needed a closer look, I sat down and pretended to look for a pencil
sharpener. As if he had a pencil sharpener. Who uses lead pencils anymore
nowadays? Anyway, I looked to the left and that's when I saw something
interesting next to his stapler. It was a picture of a baby. Actually, it was
one of those postcards people sent out when their baby was born in order to
brag to everyone. These parents didn't need to brag, however. This was one ugly
baby. I almost didn't want to pick up the postcard for fear I might catch
whatever red rash that baby had. But morbid curiosity made me pick it up anyway
and that's when I noticed what was written on the card: Mark and April Hunt
welcome Brady Hunt to the world November 15th.

April.
That couldn't possibly be the April that left him at the altar. There was no
possible way she would be that cold hearted as to send a baby announcement.
That had to be what was wrong with Trent.

I
turned the card over and noticed something else that was pretty interesting. It
was a picture of Mark and April. And April was a black girl. He had dated a
black girl...well had almost married a black girl. Why did I think he was
racist all this time? I thought back to that conversation I had overheard. Did
I hear wrong?

The
rest of the afternoon ticked away slowly. Trent never returned. I had to admit,
I was a bit worried about him. I wondered where he was and what he was up to.
He probably went to his beach to calm down and remember how small he was in the
big picture of things. Yeah, he was fine. He was at his beach.

Before
I knew what I was doing, I was packing up my stuff. I wanted to find him to
make sure he was okay.

No
one in the office even noticed that I left as Mr. George was leading everyone
in a deep breathing exercise and they all had their eyes closed. Personally, I
thought the whole meditation thing was his excuse to take a nap in the middle
of the day.

When
I got outside of the building, I saw that Trent's car was still in the parking
lot. Now I was even more worried.
If his car was here and
he
wasn't then something definitely
happened to him.
But as I got closer to the car, I saw that he was
sitting in it.

His
hands gripped the steering wheel and he stared straight ahead.

"Trent?
You okay?" I said, tapping on the glass. That was a stupid question. He
obviously wasn't okay. The love of his life left him at the altar and then had
a baby with another man less than two years later. Man that was like stabbing
him, twisting the knife, and then pouring lemon juice in the wound.

He
nodded, but didn't respond. I walked around to the other side and got in the
passenger seat. It was freezing in the car. I wondered how long he had been
sitting here.

I
wasn't sure what to say to him so I just sat there staring straight ahead just
like he was.

"She
told me she didn't want to have kids," he said after several minutes.
"I guess she meant she didn't want to have kids with
me
."

Once
again I didn't know what to say. I tried to think of what Marin or
Carnece
would say. This time I decided to go the
Carnece
route. "I saw the picture. I think it's a good
thing you didn't have kids with her because that is one ugly baby."

Trent
slowly turned his head and looked at me. Maybe I said the wrong thing. Maybe he
was still in love with her and I had just insulted her.

Trent
smiled and then burst out into raucous laughter. I breathed a sigh of relief. I
joined in laughing as well.

"That
is so true," he said still laughing.

"His
head looks like a nectarine seed," I said.

Trent
laughed harder. "Thanks," he said when the laughter subsided
somewhat.

"No
problem," I said tightening my jacket around me. It was seriously cold in
this car. "It takes one pathetic loser to comfort another pathetic
loser."

Trent
noticed my discomfort and started the engine. After turning on the heat he
said, "Man, we are pathetic aren't we? I don't know which one of us is
worse."

"Oh,
come on. I totally win. I was with a guy for nearly seven years and never even
met his family. I was in love with a man who was ashamed of my race."

"Are
you kidding? I was publicly humiliated at my own wedding that I'm still paying
for."

"Did
you see that picture?” I asked. “You were saved from having ugly children. You
should consider that a blessing."

"And
you
were saved from marrying a
racist," he replied.

Huh.
I don't think I ever thought about it that way. All this time I had thought
Trent was the one who was a racist. I thought he was being nice to me lately
out of some sort of charitable pity. When in fact, the man I had wanted to
marry with all my heart was the one who was behaving like a bigot. We had
fallen into another silence. There was something I really wanted to ask him,
but did think I had the courage to. Finally I took a deep breath and said,
"Trent can I ask you something?"

He
nodded.

"Way
back like a year ago or something I overheard you talking to Ray."

"Yeah,"
Trent said looking at me.

"You
said something that I thought was ... Well, I thought you were being racist."

Trent
got this look on his face that was part surprised and part confused. "What
are you talking about?"

"Well,
Ray was standing next to your desk and I was coming back from lunch and I distinctly
remember you saying that you weren't attracted to black girls."

Trent
stared into my eyes for a second. He pointed at himself. "Me? You thought
I
was racist."

I
shrugged awkwardly.

Trent
shook his head. "That's not what I said. In case you didn't know, my
ex-fiancée is a black girl."

"Yeah,
I just figured that out today."

Trent
stared forward and smiled. "That's what you get for eavesdropping. That's
not what I said at all."

"Well
what did you say?" I asked.

"We
were trying to come up with an angle for an all-girl fan club for the Baltimore
Orioles. He suggested The Orange and Black Girls. I probably said something
about not liking that title at all. You must have come in at the end of my
sentence."

I
flushed with embarrassment. A few seconds ago I was freezing and now I was so
hot I could barely breathe. He wasn't even talking about race at all."

Looking
at me he said, "Is that why you have always been so cold to me?"

I
shrugged guiltily.

Trent
shook his head. "And to think, that was right after I told Ray that I
thought you were ... um ..."

"You
thought I was what?"

 
Instead of answering, Trent unexpectedly put
the car in gear. "Let's go," he said.

"Where
are we going?" I asked buckling up. I kind of wanted to ask him to finish
his thought, but I was a little afraid of what the answer would be.

"Well,
if you are a true pathetic loser which I suspect you are, I know you don't have
any plans so you're coming to hang out with me."

"All right.
Let's do it."

~~~

Two
hours later we pulled into a driveway on a quiet street in Delaware.
"Where are we?" I asked.

Instead
of responding, he hopped out of the car and walked around to my side.
"When is the last time you had a home cooked meal?" he asked when he
opened my door.

"Uh,
my mother wouldn't know how to find the kitchen if you drew
her
a
map. So I guess my answer to that is never."

"Well,
you're in for a treat."

I
almost had to jog to keep up with him as he strode up the front path. Without
knocking, he flung open the door and said, "Ma, I'm home. Feed me!"

Ma?
As in mom?
We were at his parents’ house?

The
sound of running feet and shuffling chairs filled the air as what seemed like
forty people came running to the front door.

"Trent!"
several people yelled in unison. But then there was sudden silence as everyone
froze and stared at me.

"Trent,
aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" A large white woman in
an apron said.

Trent
looked at me. And with a deadly serious face he said, "Oh, this is not a
friend. She's just some homeless girl I picked up on the way over."

I
punched him in the side. "
Ow
! Okay, everyone
this is a coworker of mine.
Mahogany."

My
name floated over the crowd as several people repeated it as if trying it on for
size. The large woman in the apron approached me. Then with a big grin she
wrapped her arms around me and said, "Welcome! We are so happy to have
you."

And
that wasn't the only hug. I got passed around and hugged like a rag doll at
least twelve more times before I somehow ended up on the couch surrounded by
more of what I suspected to be Trent's family.

"I
love your name," a girl seated next to me said.

"I
love your hair," another girl who looked eerily similar to the first girl
said. "I'm Jennifer and that's Jessica," she continued. "We're
Trent's baby sisters although we're not really babies. We're juniors at
Rutgers."

"Nice
to meet you," I said.

"Can
you do my hair like that?" Jennifer asked.

"Uh,
yeah, I guess."

"Oh, my God!
So awesome.
I'll go get a comb." She got up and ran out of the room.

"We're
sorry if we kind of mobbed you a few minutes ago," Jessica said once
Jennifer was gone. "We're just so excited to meet you. You are the first
girl he has brought home since..." Her sentence kind of trailed off as if
she was afraid to say the name.

"April,"
I volunteered.

She
nodded. "So you know the whole story? For months we were afraid to say her
name out loud around him. He'd go into this rage. Jen and I didn’t even come
home for Spring Break last year because it took place during that month. But
lately he's been so different. He's getting back to his old self. I bet that's
because of you." She smiled as if she had a secret.

"Oh,
it's not because of me. We're just coworkers."

"Right,"
she said nodding slowly with the same knowing smirk.

"Got it!"
Jennifer said, displaying the
comb like some sort of trophy. She sat down in front of me and I started my
first part. Her hair was so fine I wasn't sure how they would turn out. Her
long black hair was much thinner than even
Vinny's
.
He was the last non-black person whose hair I'd braided. I don't even know why
I did. I think we were just bored one night. Now that I thought about it, we
were bored a lot of nights.
Vinny
never liked to go
out and, honestly, he was never really interested in anything I was. How did we
even last seven years?

~~~

"Dinner's ready!"
someone called from the kitchen just as I finished the last braid.