Take Her Man

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll come with you to the appointment, but then we really have to talk about some things, Tasha.

“When is it?”

“Monday,” Tasha said. “Monday at 3 p.m.”

“I’ll definitely come and support you, Tasha,” I said, spinning my schedule around in my head. I got out of class at 2 p.m. on Mondays, so I would be able to make it. “You’re my girl. I have your back.”

“Oh, and, Troy”—Tasha suddenly perked up a bit and smiled—“who was the cute man you were with?”

Though I’d planned on getting in a quick thirty minutes on my StairMaster, I went to bed right after Tasha left. It was after 1 a.m. and my body just needed to rest. Between Julian and Tasha, I felt mentally and physically drained. I didn’t bother to explain who exactly Kyle was to Tasha. I just told her he was a friend of the family. From the look on her face, I could tell my old friend was ready to cook things up between the two of us, and the last thing I needed was more drama, drama, drama.

After closing the blinds and checking my voice mail, I prayed for Tasha. I prayed that she would find peace in whatever God’s will was for her. Whether or not he saw fit for Tasha to have the baby, I wanted my friend to be happy and realize that even if she didn’t have a baby, she had a man at home who loved her. And all of us couldn’t say that—amen.

I snuggled under the covers and closed my eyes, praying that sleep would come quickly. I felt my body unravel between the Egyptian satin sheets I’d given myself for my twenty-first birthday. The kinks in my back relaxed and my limbs felt heavy by my sides. Before I knew it, I’d fallen into a peaceful sleep.

I could hear my cell phone ringing. It sounded louder than ever before, sitting on the night stand beside me. I groaned. Why did my phone have to ruin such a perfect dream? If I could get back to that place, I’d stay there forever.

“Hello?” I growled, angrily picking up the phone. It was a blocked number, so I was wondering who it could’ve been calling me so late at night.

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me, girl,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. I instantly knew who it was—my mother. “You should’ve said hello to me last night. Don’t think I didn’t find out about you sneaking that…that scoundrel in!”

“He’s not a scoundrel and I didn’t sneak him in, Mom. He was invited,” I said, climbing out of bed. Pookie Po looked at me and ran out of the room. She didn’t want to talk to my mother either. “And why are you calling me so late at night from a blocked number?” I asked.

“I got a new block on the phone and it’s early, Troy. It’s almost 7 a.m.” My mother was one of those people who liked calling folks first thing in the morning. The ultimate diva of the world was up, so everyone else in the world should be up too. I looked at my clock—6:52 a.m. Damn.

“What are you still doing in bed, anyway? Shouldn’t you be studying for school tomorrow? Aren’t you going to church with your nana? Was that boy over there last night, so you’re too tired to wake up?” My mother had a way of stringing question after question together so tightly that you wondered which one she wanted answered first. Or if she wanted you to answer any of them at all. Maybe she thought she already knew all the answers. She paused resolutely, pulling in air for the next series, I supposed. Sometimes I swore the woman was reading from some kind of list—Questions Mothers Should Ask.

“I guess you’ve taken him back after the breakup…” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was asking me if I’d done it or telling me.

“No, Mom. Nothing happened between me and Julian. In fact, I caught a ride…Oh shit, my car!” I mistakenly said into the phone. I’d forgotten all about my car. I had to get to a garage in the middle of the Bronx to pick up my car and then get back downtown for church with Nana Rue. I’d never make it. Even if I did, I’d be too tired from the journey to consider going to church.

“Are you cursing at me now? And what happened to your car?” my mother asked. I rolled my eyes, trying to figure out how she could’ve picked up on the thing about the car. Damn! I only said it once. She was like a private investigator.

“No. Nothing is wrong with my car.” I tried to calm her down. “I just realized that I have something really important to do, so I need to get going.”

“No time for your old mother now?” she said. I could tell she was having one of her dramatic days. “You know, one day you’re going to wish you were nicer to me. Then maybe you’ll spend days shopping with me like you do with your grandmother. How do you think that makes me feel to hear her brag about your little trip? You know she likes to throw stuff like that in my face.”

“Mom!”

“I’m serious, Troy. You’re my only child.”

“I know, Mom.” I started the shower. “Maybe you should spend more time with Grandma Lucy, too. She’s really not that bad.”

“Please, I’ve been down the ‘let’s be friends’ road with my mother already. It didn’t work.”

“Look, Mom,” I said, looking at the time again, “I’ll come by the house this week and we can talk about it.” I tried to comfort her. She wasn’t going to back down until I came home.

“Tomorrow for an early dinner. Say 6 p.m.?”

“Fine.” I was sure I’d be done with Tasha and the doctor by then.

“Troy, I miss you. Don’t cancel.”

“I won’t.” I pulled off my T-shirt and threw it on the floor.

“Great. Well, I’ll have Desta cook something fantastic.”

My mother and Grandma Lucy had little in common, but one thing my mom had gotten from Grandma Lucy was a love of entertaining. Although she definitely hung with a different crowd, Mom was the type of person who could turn one person coming over for dinner into a fiesta. She’d pull out all the stops and make the visitor feel like royalty. “I want everyone to feel special in this place,” she’d say, preparing for her girlfriends to come over for their weekly Bloody Mary lunch break on our terrace. They’d sip on the red stuff until the sun went down.