Confessions (15 page)

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Authors: Sasha Campbell

BOOK: Confessions
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I dropped my eyes to the bed. He was giving me the opportunity to tell him if I had been messing around on him. I knew from years of experience if a man said tell him the truth, he was lying.

“Donovan, I don't have anything to tell you except I'm willing to put everything into fixing our marriage.”

I noticed his shoulders sag with relief before he kissed me again. “So am I, baby. So am I.” Donovan gathered me in his arms, and I rested my head on his chest while he drifted off to sleep. I started to do the same when I heard the house phone.

I rolled over and picked up the cordless phone. The caller ID said
PRIVATE
. “Hello?” I spoke softly so I wouldn't disturb Donovan.

“Baby?”

I shot out of the bed. It was Kenyon. I moved out the room and down the hall. “Why the hell are you calling me?” I whispered, which wasn't easy to do considering the fool had the balls to call my house when he knew damn well my husband was home.

“Baby, before you get mad, listen to me. I-I just realized I left my underwear hanging on the back of the bathroom door.”

“What?”

From the living room, I could hear Donovan moving around. Oh, my goodness! He was heading to the bathroom.

“Baby, I love you. I wouldn't do anything on purpose—”

I hung up and hurried down the hall and into our bedroom. I could hear Donovan peeing. I knocked once on the door, then stepped inside and found him standing over the toilet. Thank goodness his back was to the door, because if he had been sitting, Donovan would have been looking directly at Kenyon's white boxers. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, then focused his attention on not peeing all over the toilet seat.

“Sorry, dear, I need my robe.” I snatched the underwear along with my blue robe that was hanging on the back of the door so quickly, I practically ripped off a nail. “Ouch!”

“You okay?” Donovan started to come over toward me.

“No, no! I'm fine…really.” I ignored the pain and scrambled out the bathroom and into my room, where I stuffed Kenyon's underwear in the back of my lingerie drawer. Damn, that was close!

Taking a seat on the bed, I stared down at my hand and saw that the nail on my index finger had been ripped all the way to the meat. Kenyon was going to get a piece of my mind. Part of me wondered if maybe he had done that shit on purpose.

26
Trinette

I don't know why I had even agreed to go to Travis's house when I knew it was a mistake.

I drove over to Dellwood into the South Creek subdivision. The houses were mostly small, three-bedroom homes. Some of the houses looked well kept, but the majority had seen better days. The only whites still in the neighborhood were too old to move somewhere else. I turned onto Nashua Drive and stopped in front of a dingy white house with black trim. My brother Travis and his wife bought their first home six months ago and were excited about having guests over. I wished I could share in their excitement, but unfortunately it was going to take everything I had just to be in the same room as Mama.

I climbed out my car, taking extra care not to get dirt on the mink coat Michael bought me last week. Underneath, I had on a slamming black Antonio Melani pantsuit with smoking winter white snakeskin boots. Trust and believe, Mama was going to know I could hold my head up high and proud. I'd come a long way from being her live-in babysitter and Uncle Sonny's victim. Kim must have been watching for my car, because I had barely stepped onto her porch when the door swung open.

“Hey, Netta! I'm glad you made it.” She gave me a warm smile that said she meant every word. I tried to smile but it was hard, considering who was waiting on the other side.

Darlene.

It was amazing, but for the first time in years, I could say Mama looked good. She wasn't the curvaceous beauty who, back in the day, turned the heads of men and women like I'm doing these days, but she was still pretty just the same. All traces of her crackhead days were gone. But as I always said—once a crackhead always a crackhead.

“Hello, Netta,” she said, voice soft with a nervous edge. I don't know what she had to worry about. Well, maybe she was scared I might pull Leon's gun out on her again.

Ignoring Mama, I turned to Kim. “You need any help?”

She shook her head of short, sassy curls. “Nah, girl, yo mama already done did every thang.”

I pursed my lips. Feeling uncomfortable standing in the same room with Darlene, I moved into the living room with my brothers and had a seat next to Cornbread. “What y'all watching?”

“Lakers and Celtics are playing.” He brought a beer to his lips.

“When you gonna do something to your head?” I asked, reaching up and tugging on his hair.

“Damn, girl. Quit!” He leaned out of my reach.

“You need to let me hook you up.” Back in the day I was the hair braider and the barbershop because there was no way we could afford haircuts let alone a relaxer for me. That's why I used to spend hours in the morning learning how to do my own hair. For a long time, I had dreamed of becoming a beautician, but later decided I wanted a more meaningful career that took me away from the ghetto. The joke's on me, because at my job the majority of my clients are ghetto. At least if I was doing hair I would be earning tips for my service.

“Take your coat off and stay awhile,” Koolaid said, and gave me a look that said don't even think about leaving.

I rolled my eyes. “This coat is real. I'm not about to leave it lying around so one of y'all knuckleheads can spill beer on it.”

“That a nice coat, Netta,” Mama said, appearing in the doorway.

Again, I ignored her and focused on the game. I didn't have the slightest idea what was going on, because my mind was on the only other woman in the room.

Mama moved over beside Travis and took a seat. Out the corner of my eye, I could see her staring right at me. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, I released a long exaggerated sigh, then rose and moved into the kitchen with Kim, who was pulling a pie out the oven.

“Netta, I spilled iced tea all over me. Can you watch that pot of greens for me while I go change?”

The front of her shirt was definitely wet. “Sure.” I moved over to the sink and cussed under my breath when I found the floor sticky. “Damn.” I walked over to her laundry room and found a mop, then wet it in the sink and was mopping up the iced tea when Mama walked into the kitchen.

“Are you gonna just ignore me all evening?” she asked.

I stopped mopping and looked up at her. Fear brimmed her brown eyes and the corners of her mouth. “Yep, that's my plan.”

“I-I was hoping we would have a chance to talk.” Her voice was so calm, it left me on edge.

“What in the world could we possibly have to talk about?” I asked with a hand propped to my hip.

Mama tossed her hands in the air. “Me, you, the mistakes I made and what I need to do to make things right again between me and my daughter.” She tried to smile. “That would be a good place to start.”

I sucked my teeth. “Ohhhkay, let's see…you were strung out on crack. You paid bills by lying on your back, and I was left to raise my brothers. Your choices robbed me of a normal childhood. So, no, there isn't anything you can say that will make up for all the things you put me through.”

She had the nerve to step into the room. “You may not believe it, but I did what I could to make sure there was food on the table and clothes on your back.”

“Was that before or after your crack fix?”

Mama flinched as if I had struck her. “I was
sick,
Netta. I didn't know what I was doing. I was so depressed trying to do the best I could to provide for my five kids, and I found crack as my comfort.”

I laughed even though there was nothing funny. “I guess now I'm supposed to forgive you, right?”

Shaking her head, she replied, “No. I know you probably won't ever forgive me.”

“Ain't no
probably
about it. You ruined my childhood. I never had a chance to be a child because of you. Instead, I had to raise my brothers.” And deal with Uncle Sonny climbing in my bed.

“I'm sorry, Netta. If I could give you those years back I would, but I can't. All I can do is try to be a better person and stay clean. Drug addiction is a disease, and every day I am fighting for my life. I'm paying for it now. If I don't get a kidney soon, then I'll be dead. Will that make you happy?”

“Maybe. I've hated you for over fifteen years. Do you really think I'm gonna change after all this time?”

There was no disguising the pain in her voice when she spoke. “I could only hope you would.”

“It ain't never gonna happen.” I moved into the laundry room and rinsed out the mop. Don't you know she had the nerve to follow me? “What do you want?” I asked, glancing out the corner of my eye.

“We need to have this out. I'm tired of feeling guilty for the life I once lived. Your brothers have forgiven me. Why can't you?”

Something boiled up inside of me, and I couldn't hold the pain in a second longer. I dropped the mop and swung around so fast, Mama stepped back. “You wanna know why I can't forgive you? Because you didn't believe me!”

She gave me a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”

“When I told you Uncle Sonny was raping me, you didn't believe me.”

She stood there, lip quivering with stunned reaction. “I…I didn't know.”

“Why you wanna lie! I came to you and told you he was climbing in my bed at night and you refused to listen. You slapped me!” I would never forget that day, because it was the only time my mama had ever put her hands on me.

Travis rushed into the room. “Is everything okay?”

I gave him a smug look. “Sure, I reminded Mama what Uncle Sonny had been doing to me all them years.”

Travis just stood there and said nothing, but the shame was apparent in his eyes.

Tears streamed down Mama's face. She looked sadder than I'd ever seen her. “I didn't know. I…I was strung out on that stuff, and maybe you told me…but I swear to you, I don't remember you ever telling me.”

I moved all up in her face, being belligerent and shit. “Don't lie to me. You knew and you didn't believe me! You said I was lying.”

Travis walked over and pulled me back away from her. “Netta, you need to calm down,” he warned.

“You need to stay outta it. She wanted to know why I hate her…well, now she knows.” I shrugged loose from his grip and stormed out the room.

“Netta, baby, please believe me…I didn't know!” Darlene kept calling my name, but I wasn't stopping until I was out that house. Quickly, I moved through the living room where the others were sitting, watching the game.

“I'm outta here!” I pushed past Koolaid, who tried to block my way. I pushed him so hard I don't think he even realized my strength. Slamming the door behind me, I hurried to my car before the first tear fell, then wiped my eyes and started the engine. There was no way in hell I was going to cry over that woman. There was no way I was going to think about forgiving her.

I reached for my phone and dialed Smooth's phone number and asked him to meet me at the Hilton. He agreed. I arrived at the hotel in no time. The man behind the desk knew me by now, and before I even opened my mouth, he was handing me a key. I showered and was under the covers when Smooth finally arrived. I hoped he took his little pill the minute he had gotten off the phone with me because I didn't have time to sit around and wait for Levitra to get on her j-o-b.

“I had to come up with a good one to get outta the house tonight,” he explained the second he stepped into the room.

I rose from the bed and sashayed over to him wearing nothing but what the good Lord gave me. “Obviously you wanted to see me, otherwise you wouldn't be here.” I removed his shirt and unbuckled his pants.

“You must want some of this—”

“Shhh! No talking.” Some men just don't know when to shut up.

It didn't take me but a few seconds to completely undress him. Thank goodness he was already hard. I retrieved a condom from my purse and rode him like a horse. For a few moments, I just needed to forget about my jacked-up life and think about how far I have come. And how men like him had made it all possible. When I was done, I rolled over and closed my eyes, hoping when I woke up, the pain would be gone.

At some point I must have dozed off. The next thing I knew, Smooth slapped me across my ass, startling the mess out of me. “Damn, girl! You definitely give a man his money's worth.” He rose, reached into his wallet, tossed several hundreds on the bed and headed into the bathroom.

I lay there for the longest time staring over at that money, and for the first time, I had a sick feeling inside. I felt cheap and used. What I was doing was no better than what my mother did for all those years. In fact, it was worse. Mama did it to put food on the table for her children. I was sleeping with men for my own selfish needs.

Smooth came out the bathroom, fastening his pants. “That was so good, I'm tempted to stay here a little longer just so I can feel those juicy lips of yours wrapped around my dick!” He gripped his crotch, then chuckled.

Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I would be damned if that mothafucka saw me break down.

“Go ahead and enjoy the room. Matter of fact, why don't you stay here tonight, and if I can get away long enough, I'll be back.”

Leaning forward, I scooped the money in a big pile and started counting out the bills. “Nah, I got things to do, but thanks for the offer.”

He looked a little disappointed. Too damn bad. He already managed to make me feel like a two-dollar ho.

“I'll call you,” he said just as his cell phone rang. Smooth hurried out the room and waited until he was in the hall before he answered it.

Eight hundred dollars.

That was what an hour of my time was worth. I had the money to hit the mall and buy myself that Prada bag I was dying to have. But shopping just didn't feel as exciting as it used to. Before, messing around was fun and challenging. It was all about me showing who really had the power. Pussy, that's who. But when it was all said and done I went back home to my life as Mrs. Leon Montgomery. That was something no one could take away from me. At least that's what I thought. Now I had nothing but a wet ass and a deep feeling of emptiness, the same way I felt all those years when Uncle Sonny was crawling between my thighs.

Last year, he died of cirrhosis of the liver. When I heard Uncle Sonny was sick, I had made it my business to go to the hospital to finally give him a piece of my mind and spit on his ass. I had hoped to feel a sense of satisfaction to find him lying there only hours away from joining the devil. Instead, I'd walked in the room and had gasped at what I saw. Uncle Sonny had been so thin, he looked as if the life had been sucked out of him. There were tubes everywhere. I had moved up beside the bed, and he had opened up his eyelids, staring up at me. Tears had flooded his eyes, and he had whispered, “I'm sorry.” Shaking my head, I had run from the room and out to my car. Later, Koolaid had called to tell me Uncle Sonny had passed away only minutes after I had left.

I put the money Smooth gave me in my wallet and tried to smile.
At least now I'm getting something other than a sore coochie.

I showered and got dressed, feeling worse than when I had arrived. When I reached my car, I gasped when I saw SKANK written in red lipstick across my windshield.

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