Wisdom Seeds (12 page)

She was sitting at the table writing a grocery list when I came into the kitchen with Joshua on my hip.

“Who's Grandma's baby?” She stopped writing and extended her arms to Josh. He reached for her. Sometimes I felt like he loved her more.

“Have you heard from any graduate programs yet?” Mom asked as she sat Josh on her lap.

“No, not yet.”

“Have you mentioned leaving to your dad?”

She knew I was consciously waiting to get accepted and make final plans before telling him anything. I shook my head no. The anticipation of being on my own with a new baby was overwhelming by itself; I didn't need any daily reminders from my dad that I brought this on myself because of my sin. “I don't think he'll take it too hard.” I put Josh in his high chair and began to feed him.

“He's going to miss you and Joshua.”

I never responded or looked at her.

“He really loves you Dani, he just wants you to have the best.”

“And to be a good little preacher's daughter.”

“No, to be a good Christian woman and mother.”

“And somebody's wife.”

“And somebody's wife. Joshua needs a family.”

“I am his family. I'm all he has and all he needs.”

“You're his mother. He has us, too, but he needs a father.”

Mom was right, Joshua needed a father. Who would want me? A spoiled woman. My dad always said that women with kids, like Tashika, get knuckleheads, like Noah. No knuckleheads and no more Gregory's. If necessary, I would do this alone.

Joey and Stormy arrived the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving. Mom opened the door and hugged Joey as if she never wanted to let him go. He was her baby boy who used to play her favorite hymns while she sang.

“And how is Grandma's princess?” Mom hugged Stormy.

“Fine,” she smiled taking off her coat. “My mother said to tell you and Pap Pap Happy Thanksgiving.”

She had grown up so much since the last time I saw her. Stormy had Joey's smile, mannerisms and engaging personality. Her hair ballies were coordinated with her red corduroy jumper and her peppermint stripped Peter Pan shirt. The white tights clung to her skinny legs and her black patent leather Mary Jane's looked liked they had been shined with Vaseline. For seven years old, she was quite a young lady.

“Aunt Dee Dee,” she said hugging me, “where's the baby? Daddy said you have a baby!”

“He's sleeping right now, but you can come upstairs and see him.”

“Can I hold him, please? I know how.”

“When he gets up,” I promised her.

Joey smiled as he watched us. “Looking good, baby sis.” Joey hugged me for the first time in years. “Congratulations and all that.”

Holding back tears, I said, “Thanks.”

Joey seemed taller than I remembered. His perfectly
maintained Afro was now gone. He looked like my dad in his tapered haircut. Just as I remembered, he wore khaki pants with loafers. He always liked the preppie look, even before it became fashionable. It was good seeing Joey and I hoped he had felt the same anticipation about seeing me, too.

My relationship with my brothers had, for the most part, been superficial while we were growing up. Both of them left the house before my sixteenth birthday. Joey moved to California after he graduated from high school and when his money ran out, he went to New York. He was in search of fame and ended up being a favorite at the small clubs in Harlem. He attempted college but said it wasn't him – so he quit. He has been the director of the Community Youth Center in Brooklyn for three years and loves his job.

Joseph also collected girlfriends. He had at least twenty that I knew of and has lived with most of them. My dad referred to Joseph as a rabbit who would hop in any open hole. We were never really sure of where Joey lived, he moved from woman to woman and has lived as far away as San Francisco. Until moving to Brooklyn, the longest he'd ever had an address was when he lived with Lynette – the mother of his daughter, Stormy. In spite of his consistent instability, he managed to be a decent father and Stormy is a daddy's girl.

“Is Noah coming in with his crew?” Joey asked loud enough for my dad to hear as he came in the door.

Mom hesitated as my dad was taking off his coat so I answered. “Yeah, all of them.”

“Joseph.” My dad nodded his head as Stormy greeted him with a big hug. He actually smiled. “How's my baby?”

“I'm not the baby anymore Pappy. Joshua is the baby now.”

My dad never acknowledged her statement.

“Come on in here and sing me a song.” My dad broke
the silence leading Stormy down to the game room.

“It's cool.” Joey patted me on the head, just like he used to.

Mom disappeared into the kitchen and I was sure she was praying we would have a Walton Thanksgiving.

“Let's help Mom.” I grabbed Joey's hand leading him into the kitchen.

Mom greeted us with cups of hot chocolate topped with half a cup of marshmallows. “You two take these and catch up on things.”

“Good idea.” Joey took the cups and kissed Mom on the cheek.

“Thanks Mom,” I said rolling my eyes at him. “We'll be back to help when we're done. Won't we Joseph?”

We retreated to the dining room and sat by the window.

Joey slurped his hot chocolate. “I see Pops hasn't changed.”

“Some things never do.” I sipped my hot chocolate.

“How's Mom?”

“I'm worried about her. Do you think she's happy?”

“You tell me, you're here.” Joey sat up resting his elbows on the table with his hands under his chin.

I sighed. “I'm not sure.”

“It probably helps that you're here.”

“For Mom, not for Dad.”

“He give you grief? I heard the SOB left you.”

“Who'd you hear that from?” I inquired a little indignant.

“Around. That's what the talk is.”

“Joey, it wasn't like that. He lied to me, told me he loved me, and never said he was married.” My indignation faded to embarrassment.

“What, get the . . .”

“Joseph!” Mom cut him off, startling us as she came in with a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies. “Watch your mouth, boy.”

“Mom,” Joey attempted to explain.

She cut him off again. “We're going to have a nice time this weekend. Everyone.” She smiled and winked at Joey, her baby boy, as she retreated to the kitchen.

“I can find him, tell his wife, start some trouble,” he continued.

“No, Joey. Sometimes it's better to let sleeping dogs lie.” I held the plate of cookies in front of him.

He took three and bit one. “How are you?”

“Better. Mom's been real helpful. I'm outta here in August though.”

“And where are you going?”

“Grad school. Hopefully Ohio State,” I told him getting up from my chair. “Be right back, I hear the baby.”

When I came down the steps, Stormy reminded me of my promise to let her hold Joshua.

“Come in the living room,” I told her.

“Be careful,” Joey said as he came into the foyer. “Look at this boy. Are you sure he's only seven months old? What does he eat?”

“Mostly baby food, but Mom's been giving him pot liquor on the side,” I stated sarcastically.

I placed Josh on Stormy's lap in the corner of the couch and posed them for a picture. They were adorable. Without thinking I said, “Joey, go get Mom and Dad so they can take a picture with their grandchildren.”

Mom sat down next to Stormy. My dad picked up Josh and put him on Mom's lap. He sat down and put Stormy on his lap. I wanted my dad to hold Josh. Still, this picture would remain fixed in my mind's eye forever; the photograph would go in Josh's baby book.

“I made banana pudding,” Mom told Stormy as she gave Josh to Joey and put her apron back on.

“Daddy, let Pap Pap hold the baby.” Stormy was more into taking pictures than the banana pudding.

“I'm not sure Pap Pap wants to,” I told her motioning for Joey to give me my baby.

“Yes he does.” Stormy was definitive. “We're going to take a picture.”

Joey handed Joshua to my dad and, for the first time that I was aware of, he actually looked at Josh. As my dad held his grandson he couldn't contain his smile. Joey took the camera from me and snapped the picture.

“You take one with them.” Joey nudged me. “Stormy come here.”

“I want to get in this picture, too!” Stormy protested.

“Not this one.” Joey's voice was firm. “You can't be in all the pictures.”

Standing next to my dad, I hoped he would say something to Josh or me. He put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Say cheese.”

It was a rare moment and Joey captured it on film.

Stormy had patiently waited and was irritated when I asked her to take a picture of Joey and me with my dad. I wanted to call Mom, but I was afraid to lose the moment.

I was in the kitchen making a bottle for Joshua when my dad came down the steps a little after seven the next morning.

“Morning Dad.”

“Morning,” he answered. “Up a little early?”

“Joey and I talked until about three. I didn't make
any bottles.”

“Your mother's in the shower. She'll be down in a minute.”

He poured coffee into his favorite mug and drank it while leafing through the paper. As I was going back upstairs, the back door closed. My dad was driving up to the Heritage Center to get his parents. Mom had extended the invitation for them to spend Thanksgiving with us.

By noon, the aroma of our Thanksgiving meal filled the house, Mom was singing in the kitchen and Joey was at home. Noah's family and my grandparents were on their way. My excitement about our family gathering was equally mixed with anticipation and anxiety.

Joey took my Chevette to the bus station to pick up Noah and the crew. Their bus was arriving in Camden at one. They were going to look like something from a comedy piling into my car. Joey felt they would fit better in my car than in his Volkswagen Beetle.

I hadn't seen Noah since Nana's funeral. He was the most estranged of all of us and came home the least. Noah quit school in the middle of his senior year, got his GED and moved in with Tashika. They used to visit every Thanksgiving and for the first three years they had an addition to their family. The first year they came with the twins - Taisha and Maisha, the next year Rakeem came along and the year after that, Raheem. Tashika insisted that she was a housewife who balanced their budget with assistance from the state because Noah didn't make enough money. They seemed to always do okay and their kids always wore designer clothes.

When Mom and I went to visit them during my senior year in high school, I was surprised to see their apartment. It was much nicer than I had imagined. The big
credenza with the color television took up most of the wall space in the living and dining rooms. They didn't have a dining room set and everyone ate in front of the television. Mom was a little perturbed because ‘Grace' was the lady next door and not the prayer of thanksgiving before dinner.

After we ate, the kids sat out on the stoop with all the other kids on the block until after midnight. Both nights we were there, Raheem fell asleep outside in his stroller. It was like one big block party. Tashika and Noah knew everybody that walked by. Some stopped to talk, others waved from cars and one of Tashika's friends across the street carried an entire conversation from her window.

On the subway ride back to Port Authority, Noah pointed out the stop where Grandpa Tim said his church used to be. Noah said he had met some people who knew Grandpa Tim as Brother Love. Mom never inquired any further. I wanted to know but knew better than to ask.

“Honey, I'm home,” Noah announced as his family paraded in the front door. His huge Afro was replaced by dread locks and he looked like the lion in the Wiz. Mom was taken aback. “I‘ll always love my Mama, she's my favorite girl,” Noah sang as he picked up Mom and spun her around. “You only get one, you only get one, yeah!”

“Oh, Noah!” Mom held him. He was her first born.

She hugged Tashika and the kids and helped hang up everyone's coat. “Your dad will be back soon.”

“Is he at the church?” Noah asked.

“He went to get his parents.” Mom spoke slightly above a whisper.

“He could have picked us up. He went through Brooklyn to get to Queens.”

“Let me get everyone a snack.” Mom quickly changed the subject. “It's been a long bus ride.” She disappeared in the kitchen and returned with a tray of Pigs in
a Blanket and a jar of apple cider.

“What'sup girl?” Tashika asked, patting my stomach as I handed Josh to Joey. “Girl, you look good. How'd you lose that already? I still got some afterbirth from all my kids.” She laughed and pointed to her own stomach that was squeezed into her shirt.