Sharing Space (The Complete Series) (16 page)

We were eye to eye and I refused to look away.  “You are not alone. You have Uncle Troy, my mother, me. You know that and so does Brianna.”

“But neither of you are her father. The reason I’ve been spending so much time with him is because I want to get to know him all over again before I can decide whether or not he gets to meet her. She has questions that only he can answer.  She doesn’t have to walk around thinking her father doesn’t love her anymore.  Who am I to turn him away if he’s genuinely sorry and wants to be her father?”

“You’re her mother, that’s who, and it’s not your responsibility to make him look good in her eyes.  He should have thought about that when he took off years ago.  If he’s worried about what she thinks of him he should have stuck around to make sure it was positive thoughts.” I gestured towards the wine glasses and CD player. “And what’s all this?  You have to wine and dine his ass to get to know him?  What’s all this got to do with him proving himself?”

“That is none of your business.”

There was a thin line between protecting your privacy and not telling your business because you know anyone in a ten-mile radius with a brain would tell you that you’re a moron. Crystal not only crossed the line, she left it blurred in her wake.  

“Does Uncle Troy know about this?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

“No, and you better not tell him.”

I sucked my teeth and we were again staring each other down when we heard a small voice from the doorway.

“Ma, I’m getting hungry.”

Her eyes never leaving mine, Crystal replied, “Dinner’s almost ready, baby.  Chloe was just leaving.”

It was my turn to blink, several times, as if my eyes and ears were playing tricks on me. Was this my closest relative, my own sister in a sense, telling me to leave and putting some trifling man who had abandoned her before me?

“Bri honey, can you go back in your room for one more minute? I want to tell your mother one more thing and then I’ll be in to say goodbye, okay?”

Brianna was not a stupid child and could sense the tension in the air. It was that same good sense that prevented her from dipping into what was going on. She turned and left the room.

“Crystal, I love that girl like she was my own. You know that.  Even though right now I feel like choking the crap out of you, you know that I love you too. You’re like my sister.”  I took a deep breath and tried to control my shaky voice. “I just want—all I’ve ever wanted was the best for the both of you. I’m not sure this is it. If you were spending time with him solely for Brianna’s sake that would be one thing, but it’s obvious that this has taken a romantic turn and I don’t think that’s very smart.  It’s liable to cloud your judgment, and if it turns out that he’s not changed and he’s still the irresponsible boy who left you before, you’re guaranteed to have your heart broken again.  I know what you must be feeling—”

She didn’t let me finish.  “You do not know what I’m feeling so don’t even fix your lips to say you do. Lawrence cheating on you is not the same thing. You have no idea what it’s like to carry the child of someone you love only to have that person disappear.  You question yourself; you question their love for you and your child.  You wonder if you did something wrong to push them away and you end up blaming yourself for turning your child into a single household statistic. You learn not to trust men. You struggle on for years trying to be both a mother and father. It’s hard.  Don’t insult me by trying to walk in my shoes because you can’t
fit
my shoes.  Please leave. I need to speak with my child.  I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

With my mouth wide open I watched my cousin walk in the kitchen without giving me so much as a backwards glance. I said a hasty goodbye to Brianna and promised to call her to solidify our Halloween plans. I don’t remember the train ride home or the walk to my apartment.  I don’t remember letting myself in the building, walking up the stairs, or turning the key in the lock.  I know I must have done those things because somehow I ended up kissing Patrick.

Chapter Four

Crossing the Line

Patrick

It was Sunday
, and I hadn’t seen Chloe since Friday night when we’d had dinner with Myra. There was no rule stating that roommates had to see or check in with each other every day, but that didn’t stop a new and weird feeling from invading my chest as I walked from the train station to our building. I was hit with a wave of disappointment when I returned home to an empty apartment. I missed Chloe. Over the past weeks I’d gotten used to coming home and finding her there: candles lit, music playing, sometimes the undeniable aroma of food cooking, someone to talk to and listen to and, most of all, someone to laugh with.

Tossing my keys and jacket on the sofa, I headed to the kitchen.  I was determined not to spend the rest of my night worrying about Charlotte and my family. My brothers and sisters didn’t seem to be losing any sleep over the situation. Why should I be the one stressing?  I made up my mind then and there that my only dilemma for the night would be whether I should pop open a bottle of white or red.

My mother had insisted that I take home enough leftovers for both Chloe and myself.  Not sure of when Chloe would be home, I placed the covered plates in the refrigerator.  My eyes wandered two shelves down and I made my decision: white it was. Half a bottle later, just when I was about to pick up the phone to call Charlotte and demand that she carry her hippie ass over to my apartment, Chloe stormed in. I flinched as she slammed the door, dropping her jacket, keys, and bag on the floor. She was mumbling curses under her breath and stopped short when she saw me sitting on the couch, wine glass in hand.

Chapter Five

Crossing the Line, Pt. 2

Chloe

“Got enough for two?” I asked.  My eyes followed Patrick’s gesture towards the half empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. “I’ll need more than that.”

“There’s a bottle chilling in the freezer. Now you want to tell me what happened?”

Damning etiquette, I plopped into the easy chair and drank from the wine bottle all in one movement.  If Patrick thought me tacky or crazy, his face didn’t show it. As a matter of fact, he looked quite concerned. It was perhaps that look of someone wanting to know and wanting to help that had me recounting my whole weekend, ending with my blow-out with Crystal. Patrick only interrupted once and that was to run into the kitchen and retrieve the second bottle of wine and a glass for me. When I finished my story, I was in tears. I was either too hurt or too tipsy to be embarrassed. I poured another glass of wine. 

“I’m just so angry, you know?  I could always call Crystal when I was fighting with something or someone, and she would know exactly what to say. When I faltered, it was Crystal who would remind me that I always had the right decisions in my heart; I just had to find the courage to make them.  She’s my rock, or at least she was. I know she’s not thinking straight, and it’s like because I’m not a single mother she’s telling me that I can’t understand what she’s doing and why she’s doing it, but correct me if I’m wrong: what does being a single mother have to do with knowing that you don’t just trust someone who left you pregnant eight years ago?  You sure as hell don’t start sleeping with him.”

“Well, to be fair, you don’t know that she’s sleeping with him.”

“Patrick, she was playing Luther.”

Patrick’s face went blank.

“Luther Vandross.”

Patrick just blinked.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Luther.”

“Of course I’ve heard of him. I just don’t get your point.”

I sighed. “Patrick, if two people are alone in an apartment, drinking wine and listening to Luther, somebody expects to get laid.”

We both cast glances at the wine glasses. The sounds of a country song streaming from the radio filled the silence. I looked at Patrick, our eyes met and, realizing that we were both thinking the same thing, we dissolved in laughter.

“So, not only do you object to her considering letting Jermaine in Brianna’s life, you don’t like the idea of the two of them getting back together?  Why?”

“Because.”  Realizing what a third grade answer that was, I elaborated.  “She’s too smart for this. I mean, I can kind of see her point in wanting Brianna to have a father, but just because he donated the sperm doesn’t mean he can be her father. Where was he when she had the chicken pox at the age of five and cried so much, not because of the bumps but because she was missing a week and a half of kindergarten?  Where was he when my mother, Uncle Troy, Crystal and myself had to pitch in to make sure Brianna had the tuition needed to attend that gifted school?  Why would she just let him pop up and try to be her father now, and why in the world would she want to be with him?  You say
getting back together
like they had some great romance. They were two kids who got caught up and made a baby. Crystal stepped up, took responsibility, did what she had to and became a woman very quickly.  Jermaine quickly stepped out—or should I say ducked out—and forever proved himself to be a little boy.”

“Whoa, that’s kind of harsh.  What makes you so sure that he hasn’t changed?”

“Is it?” I asked, referring to Patrick’s statement before answering his question.  “Maybe it is, but I just have no tolerance for deadbeats. Men who don’t take care of their kids are right up there with rapists, murderers, and molesters. They should all be in prison. Maybe he has changed. I just don’t think she should be giving him the benefit of the doubt so quickly just because it’s hard raising Brianna on her own or she feels guilty that she doesn’t have a father around. She seems to think I’m downplaying how hard her job is, and I’m not. I know it’s hard, I saw that in my mother’s face my whole life. I just don’t see why Crystal doesn’t see that, despite how difficult it was, she’s been doing it and doing it well without him for eight years. I damn sure don’t think she should be giving it up to him so quickly. What has he done? What has he proved?”  I paused to sip my wine. “The worst part is that I didn’t even recognize her. That woman standing in front of me wasn’t my cousin.  Do you know what it feels like to be looking at someone you once knew so well only to see a complete stranger?”

Patrick looked down into his glass. “Yes, I do.”

Then it all made sense; the half empty bottle of wine, Patrick looking like I felt when I walked in, the country music: that was the original homemade recipe for misery.  Only one thing could have had Patrick so down.

“I take it your meeting with Charlotte and her boyfriend didn’t go well.”

Patrick placed his wine glass on the table.  “Not even a little bit. With Crystal, you don’t agree with some decisions she’s making and I’m sure with time the two of you will be able to talk about this and come to some understanding.”

“I hope so.” I said.

Patrick sighed. “With Charlotte... I don’t know. I didn’t recognize the person she’s become, not just because of her attitude, but even her appearance. She’s taken on this whole new lifestyle that’s so unlike her.  She doesn’t seem to care whether or not she’s driving our parents crazy.  I’m so worried about her, and the hard part is not showing my parents just how worried I am because I don’t think they could take it.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“Well for one, that damn boyfriend of hers. You have to see this guy.  He’s a joke and he’s got my sister so snowed. I hate to use a word as strong as brainwash, but I don’t know how else to explain it unless…”

“Unless what?” 

“I couldn’t say this to my family. I could barely stand thinking it much less voicing it, but something about Charlotte’s behavior on Friday gave me the impression that she may have been on something.” 

“You mean drugs?”

“Yeah.”

Patrick looked so defeated, so hurt, my heart immediately went out to him.  My troubles seemed juvenile in comparison. “If you think your sister may be on drugs you have to tell your family because she’s going to need all of you to get through it.”