Easier Said Than Done (30 page)

“I'm sorry. Lately, it seems like if it's not one thing it's another. For most of my life, it's always something.” She sniffed, then dabbed at her eyes, but the wet tissue was powerless to stop the flow of crocodile tears. “But lately, it has gotten to be really bad.”

“What's going on?” She looked at me with sorrow-filled eyes I grabbed her hand. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

“I was fired from my job almost three months ago. I've wiped out all of my savings—what little there was, ain't got no money coming in. I'm barely able to buy groceries. My boyfriend was helping out, but I guess it got to be too much for him and he split. Said me and my baby had become a liability.'”

I frowned and handed her another tissue. “Screw him. What about unemployment?”

Sharneesha sniffed and wiped her nose. “I was fired for stealing less than one hundred dollars from the petty cash drawer. Can you believe that? The company is fighting my unemployment benefits over one hundred dollars and now I can't feed my baby.” She broke down in fresh tears as she gazed at Teeka who was now asleep on the couch. Her tiny legs curled into her chest and her hands folded under her plump cheek. The picture of innocence.

I lowered my voice to a whisper anyway. “Stealing, Sharneesha?”

“I didn't do it, Kingston. I mean, I'm struggling, but I'm not going to steal, especially not that little bit of money. Trust me, I'm not as ghetto fabulous as I look.” Smiling, she crumpled both napkins and dropped them on the table. “I just happened to be the most convenient black person to pin it on. They had no proof, which is why they didn't pursue criminal charges. Of
course, it would have been politically incorrect to accuse the manager that did it. Money came up missing and the rumor was that it was me. They fired me; problem solved.” Pointing at her ample chest, she continued, “So you're looking at the fall-guy. And the white girl, well, she got a promotion.”

I shook my head in disgust.

“Isn't that the way it always goes?” She ticked off on her fingers. “So here I am, out of savings, no unemployment; and with this economy, all of my attempts to get a job have produced zilch. I haven't been able to pay this month's rent or my car note. I gotta keep moving my car all over Chicago so the repo man doesn't get it, and the sheriff'll be by any day to put my stuff on the curb.”

“Did you explain the situation to the people you're renting from?”

Sharneesha snorted. “Girl, them people don't care about why I can't pay my rent. They want their money. It's a business to them. They own about ten other units. They can find someone to put in there tomorrow, so why keep me around?” She paused and looked at Teeka. “I do have a friend that's a social worker and she was able to speed up the paperwork at the welfare office, so I've been collecting that for over a month, but it's not enough to keep up with all the bills I have.”

Sighing, she said, “You can't imagine how humiliating I felt going to some office and sitting on those small plastic chairs and answering personal questions that don't have nothing to do with nothing. Asking about Teeka's father and whether he's paying child support. If there's another man in my life giving me money. Like they need to know all my business. There are some days when I don't think I can do it anymore. When getting out of bed takes all the strength I have.”

Sharneesha dropped her head in her hands, rubbing the tears from her eyes, only to have them fill with more. “I've even thought about ending it all, but then I think about Teeka and I could never leave her with the legacy of a mother that committed suicide. Then there are those other days when I know as sure as I'm breathing that God has something in store for me. I'm a survivor and I'm going to take care of my baby. You best believe that.”

“I believe you,” I said. And I did. As I rubbed her hand and looked into her eyes, there was a spark. She was hungry and when you're hungry—you're dangerous. I decided to step out on a limb. “If I could wave a magic wand and give you anything, what would it be?”

“That's a tough one.” Sharneesha rubbed her chin and hunched her broad shoulders. “I think I'd like to move somewhere else, somewhere warm. I can't take much more of these Midwest winters. Maybe live in a culturally diverse neighborhood where Teeka can learn about
different kinds of people. I want to buy a nice little house for my baby and me. And I want a job where I'm helping someone. And I'm not talking about helping rich people get richer as I was at the Chicago Board of Trade. I have a Bachelor's degree in Business Administration and a Master's degree in Public Policy. I want to use my education to make a difference in somebody's life.” Her smile faded. “But right now, I'd settle for a gig that pays my bills. People think you can't rise above your circumstances, but I know it can be done,” she said, more for her benefit than mine.

“Well, don't give up on your dreams. You never know. They just might come true.” I said, the wheels in my mind spinning.

“You say that like you know something.”

I walked to the utility closet and dug in my petty cash jar. “I just may, Sharneesha.” I winked, a smile spreading across my face as I scribbled my home and cell phone numbers on a piece of paper and shoved it along with one hundred dollars across the table into her waiting hand.

Chapter 24

I navigated my way down the sandy bank, sinking deeper into the giving soil. The wind whistled through the willowy trees.

Inching closer to the river
'
s edge, I stared at the black water stretched out in front of me, gently lapping against the bank. I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them as the coldness descended.

The moonlight bounced off the water making the thick blanket of fog that hung above seem almost translucent, the boughs from the gnarly trees lining the bank holding the dense sheet of fog in place. I moved closer. A promise of a new day rode the white-capped waves that rushed against the bank more forcefully each time.

The memory of the two of us standing in front of Mammy
'
s mirror, her twirling with arms wide and me making funny faces to make her smile. I told her how pretty she looked and not to worry
‘
bout her little potbelly.
“
Gwan
'
now,
”
I urged her.
“
A likkle fat make ya
'
look healty.
”
She laughed over her shoulder as she ran out the door. I followed more slowly. Thinking about something
–
obviously not of importance now
–
but thinking nonetheless as I often did. That was earlier. Before we made it to the river where the picnic is being held. Before we stuffed ourselves on bammy, crispy fried fish, and fat plums. Before Mammy yelled that we had time for one more swim in the river while the adults cleaned up and readied to head back up the hill to the big
house. Now everyone was looking at me. I scrunched my toes in the damp sand. Already I had seen enough and I wanted to cry. Before the tear could make it
'
s way down my face, it was wiped away and a finger lifted my chin until I was looking into smiling brown eyes. No words had to be said. Peace radiated in waves of light and they warmed my spirit. I reached out to hug her, but she glided away. She looked happy as she smiled one final time over her shoulder before she simply floated away. She waved before disappearing into the mist. And I waved goodbye as well
.

When I woke up, I knew in my spirit that she was gone. That even though the nightmares were unpleasant, they were my way of holding on to Joanne, my way of keeping her with me. But I no longer had the heaviness of guilt weighing me down. Joanne was free. And so was I.

Free to make one of the hardest decisions of my life.

For as many reasons as I had tried to come up with to stay in Chicago, there were twice as many to return to Jamaica and fulfill Mama Grace's wishes. So much good could come from it. Not just for the community, but for me and for those that I loved.

I rolled over and buried my head in my pillow. There was a lot to do and I wanted to get at least two more hours before it was time to get up and rearrange my life.

Chapter 25

I snapped open my compact and looked at my image with a critical eye. My lipstick was too dark. I pursed, blotted and glossed before setting my cosmetics bag back in the top drawer of my desk. A quick stop at Lee's Nails before coming into work left me less than satisfied. The usual Mardi Gras red looked gaudy, wrong, as if my hand now belonged to someone else. No matter how I tried to fight it, the slick “big city, go-getter” skin, that once clung as snugly as a worn pair of jeans, had dried up and slipped away once I stepped foot on Jamaican soil.

Now that I was home, it no longer seemed to fit.

The early morning chill still clung to me and I rubbed my arms through my cream turtleneck sweater. A fierce wind pressed against the window, whistling.

“Line 2's still holding for you, Kingston,” Jonetta buzzed through on the intercom. “I need a hit. I'm gonna run out to Starbucks. I'll bring you back the usual.” With a jangle of keys, she was off.

Surveying my cluttered desk, I sighed, thinking, ‘good, I need a hit, too. Not one of my hands had touched the stack of paperwork, and mail that had accumulated while I was gone, and I'd been in the office close to an hour. Tension was pooling in the small of my back, expanding and growing, threatening to overtake.

It was going to be a long, tedious day and I was already wanting to go home.

With a press of the speaker button, Keela's lilting voice floated into the room. “A friend of mine just called and told me she had to go to Cosmetology Summer School. Guess what I asked her.”

“Whadya' ask her?” I rubbed my temples and flexed my foot under the table. My legs were cramped from my early morning five-mile run. For a treacherous sixty minutes, it was woman versus machine, a pounding frenzy of wills. Judging from the amount of pain I was in, the treadmill had won.

Swearing softly, I tried to shake the gloom and doom off. I was beginning to complain as much as Uncle Winston.

“Was it a makeup course?” Keela tittered and I imagined a hand covering her mouth, trying to smother the giggles.

“Keela, it's eight o'clock in the morning and I'm staring at a pile of paperwork with a deadline that's about to smack me in the face—I don't have time for this,” I paused. “Is that a true story?”

“Heard it on the radio.”

“I sure hope it was funnier then,” I said, my voice flat and uninspired and hopefully not indicative of how the day would play out.

I pulled the Billboard Magazine from the middle of the pile, scanning over the top one hundred albums. Hip-Hop superstar Jay-Z was still holding the number-one spot. Scooby would soon change that. Fame and fortune was his for the taking. A rush of adrenaline shot through my veins.

“You need a cup of coffee.”

“I need more than that, Keela.” I frowned at my own rudeness. “Sorry, I didn't get much sleep.” I tossed the magazine to the side. “I bumped into Randy's sorry ass at the grocery store yesterday.”

“Did you say something about Essence?” Keela's earrings bumped against the receiver.

“Of course. He sounded as stupid as the rest of them.” I mimicked in my whiny voice reserved for punks and other spineless creatures. “How could I resist what Essence was serving up on a silver platter. Typical. They must give all of ‘em a handbook when they leave the womb so they know exactly what lame line to repeat in any given situation.”

“A book would be good and the name has to be really stupid. Something like
Bullshit Lines for Men 101
. That way it properly reflects the content.”

I snickered, wrote that down on my desktop calendar and underlined it twice. “You got it. ” The front door slammed and Jonetta swished in, setting down a cup of coffee and a raspberry croissant on my desk. “So, tell me, how are you?”

“I think I'm still in shock. I feel numb most of the time, and the rest of the time I feel sad for the baby. It seems like the poor thing is already starting out life with one strike against her.”

I perked up. “You called the baby a her. You know it's gonna be a girl?”

“Oh, no, I'm waiting. I want to be surprised, that way it will be a little like Christmas. I need something to look forward to.” Keela laughed, but the joy had seeped out somewhere along the way.

I frowned and picked up the phone. “Are you sure there's not something you want to talk about?”

“It's just that I have this doctor's appointment and Brandon had promised to go with me ‘cause I'm getting an amniocentesis today. I'm a little nervous so I don't want to go by myself. I hate needles so please, please, please say you'll come. The appointment is at three, but the doctor's a brother so you know how that goes.”

“I can meet you there at five.”

Keela laughed. “They're not that bad. As long as you're there by three-thirty, we should be okay.”

“Call me about an hour ahead and I'll meet you.” I hung up and pressed the intercom. “ Jonetta, can you come here, please?”

A minute later, she peeked through the door. “What's up, boss?” Her hair was contained in twisted rows, then burst into two fluffy afro puffs. The slashes of blue across her eyes, and bright fuchsia on her lips appeared neon against her dark skin. She must be going through an experimental phase. She looked like a Pam Grier throwback—on crack. I suppressed a smile. “ What time is Mr. Mansini calling?”

Jonetta consulted a small white pad. “In about an hour or so and he wants an update on where you're at with Scooby's projections.”

“I e-mailed some figures to his secretary earlier.”

“I'll call her and see if she received them.” She scribbled a note, then stuck the pen behind her ear.