A good man, p.7
A Good Man, page 7
Do I like unpredictable situations? No. Oh, yeah. I’m about to get into one. But I still don’t like them. Do I get bored easily? Not really. I have perfected the art of doing as little as possible. Am I optimistic? Sometimes. Hmm. “Sometimes” is not a possible response on this test. Better mark “Yes.” Am I always looking to do new things? No. Do I take risks? Absolutely not. Until now. Do I have a consistent routine? Yes. Do I believe people should have morals? Of course. When I doodle, what do I doodle? I don’t doodle!
These questions are ridiculous.
The questions about sex and relationships earned an “oh my” from Sonya. “Is sex necessary in a relationship?” she whispered. I wouldn’t know, but again, my response is not one of the possible answers. The key word is “necessary.” Hmm. No. A relationship based on sex is not a relationship. It’s only mating. How often do I fall in love? I haven’t. Where’s “never” as an answer?
What’s this? A book cover with some skinny white lady in a skimpy teddy staring at her man who is staring out at the ocean? What would I title this picture if it were a book? Their titles are so lame. I’d call it Brr, I’m Cold, Man—Get Back in Here and Warm Me Up Now or I’ll Cut You with My Bony Frigid Elbows. That title wouldn’t fit on the cover.
Do I listen to my heart whenever I have to make a big decision? No. I listen to my brain. If I thought with my heart, I would . . .
I might have a man in my life by now.
Do I change my mind easily? No. Well . . . sometimes . . . No.
What is my personality color? Red, blue, green, or yellow. Those are my only choices. What if my personality color is purple? I mean, I sometimes turn red, I sometimes feel blue, I manage my green, and I ain’t yellow. What if I want to be orange or burgundy or brown?
Sonya marked religion: “Christian—Other.” AME may be Methodist, but it isn’t the Methodist they think it is. I wish they had a choice like “His” or “None—Relationship with Jesus Christ.”
Where would I most like to live? I’m in the suburbs now, and I like the peace and quiet it offers. If I could, would I prefer the beach or a lake? Both, but only if the bugs were kind.
She finally arrived at the page called “About Your Mate.” My mate? Geez. I’m just looking for some companionship here. My mate? They make it sound so biological. Age range . . . forty to forty-five. I need someone who has lived long enough to hold an intelligent, mature conversation with me. I don’t want to spend the relationship having to explain things. And that disqualifies every one of the hunks.
Pity.
Height and body type? I guess like me, maybe a little taller. His interests? Why isn’t “me” one of the responses? I would hope one of his major interests would be me. Wow, what a long list of possible interests for a man. And it’s a stupid list. “Vegging” and “cuddling” aren’t on this list. Not that I’ve cuddled with anything but a pillow. No, he can’t drink or smoke, and I won’t abide even a “social drinker” or an “occasional smoker.” Ethnic background. Where’s “human”? This is the twenty-first century. We should be over all that mess. And anyway, I can’t afford to be picky at my age. Should I click them all?
Sonya clicked them all.
She blinked at the screen as it filled with empty white boxes, a flashing cursor in the first box. And now I have to write essays? This is ridiculous! How can all this foolishness help me decide what kind of man I want? How will any of this supply me with a man? I mean, answering a hundred questions and taking stupid tests will not help me find a man or even tell me what kind of man I want!
Hmm. Isn’t this precisely what I’ll be doing for up to a year? I really need to—
The doorbell rang.
Kim! Yes!
Sonya ran to the door, opened it, and watched as Kim brushed past her into the foyer. “Have a good trip, Kim?”
“I have to pee.”
The door to the half bath under the stairs closed.
Sonya stood near the bathroom door. “You made good time.”
“Yeah. Not much traffic. Um, Sonya, I can’t be your best friend on the show.”
What? She all but agreed the last time we talked! We leave tomorrow! And she’s telling me now? “Why not?”
“We look too much alike.”
And that’s about all we have in common. “You’re almost an inch taller.”
“But I slouch. We could be twins, Sonya.”
Except for her brown eyes, she’s right. “So you won’t do the show?”
Sonya heard a flush and then running water. “I’ll do the show, but only if I can be your sister.”
Why didn’t I think of that? That sounds almost . . . nice. “That sounds . . . doable.”
The door opened, and Kim Allen stood eye to eye with her mother. “I’d have to be your half sister, though.”
Sonya looked at her daughter’s outfit. Black and red, untucked flannel shirt, baggy jeans stuffed into the tops of her hiking boots. At least seven piercings on each ear. Shirt opened right down to the top of her black bra and one curve of a snake tattoo. Who wears a black bra without the black dress? And who puts snakes on her chest? And where does said snake end?
“Okay, you can be my half sister,” Sonya said. “We finally agree on something.”
“Whatever.”
Sonya looked outside at Kim’s Jetta, expecting to see a U-Haul trailer behind it. “Where’s the trailer?”
Kim flopped onto the couch. “I put it all in storage. If LA doesn’t work out for me, I’ll have my future apartment in Atlanta already furnished. The bill will be sent here.”
Not “I hope it’s okay, Mama, if I have them send the bill here.” Sonya sat on the edge of the coffee table. “But what if LA works out for you?”
“I’ll have it all shipped to LA.” Kim looked at Sonya’s laptop screen. “Don’t tell me you’re doing one of those lame surveys. I stopped doing surveys like that when I was ten.”
Note to self: Always close your laptop around your nosy child, no matter how old your child is. Sonya closed the laptop. “I did it on a whim, you know, just to see how ridiculous it would be.”
“Yeah. Right. And what did you learn?”
“That personality surveys are a waste of time.” Time to change the subject. “How’s Mark?”
“Mark? I haven’t seen him in weeks.”
They were hot and heavy when I called last month. “I thought you two were getting serious.”
“He was.” Kim smiled. “I wasn’t.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m just like you, Sonya. I love ’em and I leave ’em.”
Not exactly. “Did he, um, did Mark take it hard?”
“I don’t know. I sent him a text, and he disappeared.”
How . . . modern. And mean. “You sent him a text? Why didn’t you at least talk to him?”
“Mark wasn’t much for talking, if you know what I mean.”
My Bohemian, heathen daughter and her conquests. Another reason I wish I had raised her. Her adoptive parents were excessively lenient and completely heathen. The child has never even set foot inside a church, not that I haven’t tried to get her there.
“I still can’t believe that I’m getting more action than you are, Sonya.”
Because I have morals. Because I believe in someone who will forever be greater than ten minutes of pleasure. Sonya sighed. “You’re taking all the necessary precautions, right?”
Kim rolled her eyes. “Yes. And thanks to you, I’ve gotten a little pickier about the men I hook up with.”
I know this is a setup, but . . . “You have?”
“Yes. I don’t date serial killers, rapists, roadies, lawyers, or police anymore.”
What a strange list. “I meant, you’re making sure that . . .”
“Yes, Sonya. I will never make the same mistake you made.”
I wish she were five so I could spank her!
Kim looked around. “This place never changes. It’s like a museum to loneliness. When was the last time I was here?”
“A few months ago.”
“Something’s new . . . let’s see. The TV. Nice flat screen. Wish I had one.”
“I can get you one.”
“Nah. I hardly even watch the one I have. When are you going to brighten this place up?”
Sonya looked at her cream walls. “I like this color. It’s calming.”
“Whatever.” Kim stretched. “So, what exactly are you looking for in a man, Sonya? Oh, I know. He has to have a pulse and the ability to walk without a cane. Oh, and he has to have the entire Bible memorized.”
I may spank her anyway, the little blasphemer!
“Maybe you just want him mute and tied to the bed,” Kim said. “Tried that once. He slobbered on the gag, which is so nasty. Almost left him tied up on his bed, too.”
Sonya didn’t respond. This is how it begins, and I don’t intend to keep it going. “So, are you seeing anyone new?”
“No, just the same old bedmates.”
Lord Jesus, please do something with this child!
Kim rolled onto her stomach and propped her head up on her hands. “You know, Sonya, whoever you choose on that stupid show will kinda be my daddy, right?”
No. “He won’t be your daddy, Kim.”
“Yeah, probably not.” Kim flattened out and closed her eyes. “When does he get out again?”
She always has to open this wound. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t you care?”
“Of course I care, but I’ve told you many times that Marcus wasn’t a bad boy when we . . . when we hooked up. It was later that he—”
“Became a thug, shot someone, and went to jail,” Kim interrupted. “You had excellent choice in men back then, Sonya. I can’t wait to see what mess of a man you’re going to pick this time.”
How can I lighten this mood? Sonya tried to smile. “I’m not a teenager, Kim. I have matured. What makes you think I’ll choose a mess of a man now?”
“Your track record. First my daddy and then Archie Freeman.”
Yeah, I’m two for two, but how did she know I went out with Archie? “I never told you about Archie.”
“So I Googled you.”
I hate the Internet.
“Sonya and her bad boys.”
Sonya frowned. “And all your men have been angels.”
Kim opened her eyes. “I prefer devils actually. They’re more fun where it counts. And they have such excellent imaginations. They’re never afraid to try new things.”
Sonya sighed and stood. “One day you’ll find a good man, and that good man won’t have you.”
“Who wants a good man when a bad man can do you better? And longer? And harder.”
This conversation is over. “You hungry? Thirsty?”
“No. I ate on the road.”
Is there anything I can do for this child? “Your room’s all ready for you.”
“You mean the guest room’s ready.”
“It’s your room, Kim, and it will always be your room.”
“Until you find a man or another career and kick me to the curb again.”
Lord Jesus, give me strength! “I made you a promise, Kim, and I’m tired of repeating it. I will never give you up again. Never.” No matter how much you try to tick me off.
Kim looked away.
“Now, please don’t bring up that mess again.”
“I won’t if you won’t.” Kim rolled off the couch, stood, and went to the stairs. “I’ll be in the guest room.”
I let it begin.
I wonder when it will end.
Chapter 8
On the first-class flight from Charlotte to LA, Kim drank four glasses of champagne despite Sonya’s protests.
“I’m as old as you are, Jazz,” Kim said.
“Hush.”
“And I want a new name, too, Jazz.”
“Why?”
“You get to be Jazz, so I want to be . . . Jezz, as in Jezebel.”
She should be Huss, as in “Hussy.”
“Or Queen,” Kim said. “I like that name a lot. That name is the shit. You’re the princess, but I’m the queen.”
Yes, this queen bee is definitely buzzing. She gets coffee from here on. “Please watch your language.”
“We’re not in your house anymore, Sonya,” Kim said. “I can be myself again, right?”
At least she respects me enough not to curse in my house.
“Maybe I should be something African like . . . Titilope,” Kim said. “I looked it up online. It means ‘forever grateful’ in Yoruban.”
That name for this child? Never. That’s like calling a skinny baby “Chubs.”
Kim tapped Sonya’s arm. “I know you didn’t get the chance to name me, Sonya, but what would you have named me?”
Sonya sighed. “Shani.” Shan-eye. Oh, how I loved that name.
Kim sat up somewhat straighter. “Shani.”
“It’s Swahili for ‘wonderful.’”
“Shani.”
She likes it. I don’t know whether to smile or cry. I may do both.
“What was my middle name?”
Sonya smiled as tears formed. “Neliah.” Shan-eye Nee-lie-uh. Just saying it was like casting a magical spell.
Kim closed her eyes and smiled. “Shani Neliah. Shani . . . Neliah. What’s ‘Neliah’ mean?”
“Someone who is strong-willed, has a forceful personality, and has a level mind.” Sonya wiped away a tear.
Kim nodded. “Well, two out of three ain’t bad.”
And we’re gonna have to work on that third one right now. Sonya waved a flight attendant over.
“Yes, ma’am?” the flight attendant said.
Ma’am? Do I look that old? “Coffee for me and my, um, sister.”
The flight attendant nodded and went to the galley.
“I don’t need coffee,” Kim said dreamily, opening her eyes and rubbing them. “I’ll just take a nap.” She put her pillow against the window and snuggled into it. “Shani Neliah. Yeah. That’s a good name.”
Sonya took the blanket swaddling her own legs and placed it on Kim’s back. Yeah. It would have been a very good name.
“Shani Neliah,” Kim whispered. “I’m a wonderful badass . . .”
Ain’t that the truth, Sonya thought, wiping away another tear.
Michelle, wearing a shin-length black Moda Italiana coat, chic black sunglasses, and a black beret that did nothing to contain her miles of jet-black weave, met them as they emerged from the tunnel at the gate. As she looked from Kim to Sonya, her smile changed to a frown.
“Which one of you is . . .” Michelle blinked rapidly. “You’re twins!”
Kim sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup. “I’m Kim.”
“Kim,” Michelle said in a monotone. She smiled at Sonya. “I didn’t know you had a—”
“She’s my daughter,” Sonya interrupted.
Michelle’s jaw dropped. “She’s . . . your . . . daughter.”
“But only for the last six years,” Kim said. “I spent the first twenty years being raised by rabid wolves in New Jersey.” Kim took another sip. “Sonya, this coffee sucks bad. It tastes like ass.”
“Keep drinking,” Sonya said. “And please watch your language.”
“But it does taste like ass,” Kim said. “Ever hear of cream and sugar?”
Sweets for the sweet, and bitter for the bitter. “Let’s go,” Sonya said. “We’re making a traffic jam.” And a scene.
Michelle, wide-eyed and hyperventilating, trotted beside Sonya on the way to baggage claim. “She’s your daughter?” she whispered.
“I can hear you,” Kim said. “Yes, I’m the long-lost daughter of the greatest woman to ever play basketball on planet Earth.”
“But she’ll be my sister on the show,” Sonya said.
“Half sister,” Kim added, grimacing. “Even some damn half-and-half would have made this shit taste better.”
“Please, Kim,” Sonya said.
Kim waved the cup under Sonya’s nose. “You taste it.”
Sonya sniffed the top. Eww. That is some old coffee. It does smell like . . . dung. That’s a word in the Bible, so I can think it. First class is slipping. “Toss it. Maybe we’ll get you something on our way to . . .” She looked at Michelle. “Where do we have to be first?”
Michelle’s lower lip trembled. “Why does she call you Sonya?”
They arrived at baggage claim along with a thousand other people. “Yes, Kim,” Sonya said, “why don’t you tell Michelle why you don’t call me mama?”
“Just a sec.” Kim spied a trash can and walked toward it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a kid?” Michelle asked. “I’m your publicist, for God’s sake. How will it look when this comes out? My reputation would be ruined because I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Sonya said. “It’s a little something called the law. I retired as soon as she turned eighteen so I could register to find her, and by then, you weren’t really representing me, were you?”
“Why’d you give her up?” Michelle asked.
“I was young and dumb,” Sonya said. “I was a child.”
“And now you’ve been reunited.” Michelle looked at Kim weaving through the crowd. “That would make an amazing story, maybe even a movie.”
Sonya shook her head. “No, Michelle.”
“No, what?” Michelle asked.
“I know how your mind works,” Sonya said. “You’re looking at my pain as a way to make you some money.”
“It would make a good story,” Michelle said.
“No.”
Michelle straightened a few of her tresses. “She looks just like you did fifteen years ago. Maybe she should do the show instead of you and you can play her spinster aunt.”
Sonya lost feeling in her body. “If that child did the show, she would set women, not just black women, back fifty years. And the censors couldn’t possibly keep up with her mouth.”
Michelle sniffed a laugh. “It must be so hard on you.”
She’ll never know the half of it. “I’m working on her, Michelle.”
“Kind of a yin and yang thing, huh?” Michelle said. “Where there’s the Force, there’s also the Dark Side.”
