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Authors: Tracy Brown

BOOK: Snapped
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She returned to the table and sat across from Jamel. She watched him sizing her up and was confident that she was the flyest chick in the room. She hoped he knew how lucky he was to have her. Deciding not to ruin the visit by dwelling on the situation with Shonda, Dominique allowed Jamel to
change the subject. For the remainder of the day, they held hands, kissed, talked, and laughed, and before they knew it, the time had sped by. As the CO happily announced that the visits were over, Dominique and Jamel stood together and embraced strongly. He was going to miss her, but part of him was relieved to see her go. Even though she had dropped the subject, Dominique knew about Shonda’s visit. How had she found out and what else did she know? he wondered.

She walked toward the exit along with all the other visitors, casting a longing glance over her shoulder at Jamel as she left. Once back on the bus, she leaned her head against the window, feeling emotionally drained. This part of visiting Jamel was by far the worst—leaving him. Especially when there were unresolved issues between them. She had mixed emotions, on one hand feeling elated that she’d spent an entire afternoon with the man she loved, but on the other hand feeling distraught that she was having to deal with Shonda being part of Jamel’s life whether Dominique liked it or not. Finally, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the day when he would finally come home and be back in her arms where he belonged.

 

Octavia was nervous
as hell. She lay beside Dashawn in the bedroom of his fifth-floor apartment that he shared with his brother. They were home alone, and Octavia had become quite familiar with this room, this apartment, and this boy she had been spending much of her time with in the past couple of months.

They had a ritual that had become the highlight of her week. Each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, when she was supposed to be attending dance classes, Octavia instead
spent the afternoon with Dashawn. His mother was seldom at home, and even when she was she didn’t ask questions. As the mother of two boys, she didn’t mind them having girls over. With that in mind, Octavia and Dashawn would go back to his apartment and spend time holed up in his room, kissing and touching and exploring each other’s bodies. It made Octavia feel so grown up, so sexy and desired. They would carefully watch the clock to ensure that she left in time to make it to the dance studio, where she’d stand out front and wait for her mother to pick her up. With the demands of her job, the time she spent writing letters, sending packages, and talking on the phone to Jamel, and the Friday nights she spent with her girlfriends, Dominique hadn’t even noticed that anything was different with her child.

Just the other night, Octavia had gone into her mother’s bedroom and lay across her bed as she watched Dominique load up two boxes of food for Jamel. While Dominique struggled to fit a fourth box of coffee cakes into the care package, Octavia had propped herself up on the huge mound of pillows and asked a question.

“Ma, why do you do all of this for a guy like Jamel?”

Dominique had paused and looked at her daughter as if the question was unexpected. “What do you mean, ‘a guy like Jamel’?” she asked.

Octavia had shrugged. “I don’t know. The jail thing. He’s a drug dealer, right?”

Dominique had set the box aside and sat on the foot of her bed, facing her daughter. “Well, Octavia,” she began. “Everyone makes mistakes in their lives. Sometimes good people make bad decisions. I’ve known Jamel for a long time, so I know that he’s a good person. He was living dangerously and it caught up with him. Now he’s paying the price
for the bad decisions he made. And once he’s done paying his debt to society, I think he deserves a chance to get it right again.”

Octavia had nodded, impressed by her mother’s explanation. She liked how Dominique made it sound so simple. Octavia decided to apply the same philosophy to Dashawn. He had made some questionable decisions as well, like his recent choice to drop out of school. He hated school and felt that he had already learned enough to pass his GED. Octavia had been struggling over whether or not to dump him. Her mother and her grandfather had always told her not to waste her time with idiots who weren’t going anywhere in life. But hearing Dominique express hope for Jamel’s future had given Octavia reason to be optimistic about Dashawn’s.

Today, Octavia and Dashawn had decided that it was time for her to lose her virginity. She was nervous but excited at the same time. She was about to go from being a little girl who was babied all the time to a young woman who was making adult decisions of her own. And no one or nothing could stop her.

As he kissed her, she tried to push the thought of the pain out of her mind. Her friends at school had told her that the first time was painful, and she was most nervous about that. But she wasn’t about to turn back now. Dashawn climbed on top of her. She spread her legs, closed her eyes, and held her breath as he entered her.

Thankful

It was Thanksgiving Day and Camille had the dining room filled to capacity with food. Turkey, ham, greens, corn-bread stuffing, candied yams, macaroni and cheese, cranberry sauce, and assorted breads adorned the long mahogany table. Frankie sat at the head of the table flanked by Steven and Lily, Camille’s mother. Misa, Shane, and Camille filled in the rest of the seats, and everyone bowed their heads as Lily said grace.

“Dear Lord, please bless this beautiful meal that is laid before us on this Thanksgiving Day. Bless the hands that prepared it with love and bless this family as a whole, O Lord. Father, we come to you with grateful hearts, thankful for the roof over our heads, the clothes on our backs, the cars that we drive, and the air that we breathe. We know that without you, none of this is possible. Thank you, Lord. We ask that you look down upon us and root out those things that are not pleasing in your sight. Replace those things with the fruits of the spirit and give us all a desire to seek a closer walk with you. These, and all things, we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone chimed in. Misa and Camille exchanged knowing glances and suppressed their laughter as their mother helped Shane with his napkin. Each year, at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, Lily launched into a prayer worthy of an evangelist. But aside from these three days, she cursed, gossiped, smoked, and drank more than anyone. It was an inside joke between the two sisters that they had shared since they were kids growing up. As Frankie carved up the turkey, Camille sliced the ham, and everyone began to dig in to all the trimmings.

“This looks delicious, baby,” Frankie complimented his wife. “It gets better every year.”

Camille glowed from the compliment, and her smile lit up the room. “Just make sure that you all save room for dessert. Mama made a cheesecake, a German chocolate cake,
and
banana pudding!”

“Wow!” Steven said, excitedly rubbing his hands together. Camille had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she reminded herself that this was Thanksgiving and Steven was part of the family. Regardless of the fact that he freeloaded all year long, on this day he got a pass.

Misa frowned. “How come you didn’t announce my carrot cake, Camille? I was part of the culinary team, too, this year.” Misa smiled at Frankie, Steven, and little Shane. “It is so moist and delicious, if I must say so myself. Make sure you try it.”

“I didn’t announce it because you didn’t bake it—you bought it from Alfonso’s!” Camille shook her head and chuckled. Misa considered stopping by her favorite bakery to be her contribution to the feast. She slyly gave Camille the finger without their mother noticing, and heaped some more macaroni and cheese onto her plate.

“Misa, next year we’re gonna have Thanksgiving at your house,” Frankie teased. “I want to see if you know your way around a kitchen.”

She smiled. “Frankie, I can cook. Don’t listen to Camille. My baby has survived for three years and he’s growing tall and strong. Must be my good cooking.”

Camille sucked her teeth. “Please. Shane is growing tall and strong because he eats dinner over here every night.”

Frankie laughed because it was true. He saw more of the little rugrat than ever before now that Misa was divorced and living the single life. At times, Frankie was amazed that Shane even knew who his mother really was.

“Whatever,” she said, loading a bunch of collard greens into her mouth and closing her eyes to relish the taste. “These greens are excellent!”

Now Lily beamed. “That’s my old Mississippi recipe, honey. Don’t nobody make greens like a Southern woman. I don’t care what you city girls say.”

Everyone ate, drank, and got so full that they were stuffed. Lily and Misa managed to find the strength to help Camille clear the table while Frankie and Steven retired to the living room to watch the football game. Shane went with them, although he knew nothing about the sport. Steven and Frankie had insisted that it was never too soon for him to learn about the game they both loved so much.

As they loaded the dishwasher and tidied up the kitchen, Misa looked at her sister sheepishly. “Hey, sis. Feel like watching your nephew tonight?” She flashed her most brilliant smile at Camille, in hopes that it would persuade her to do what Misa wanted.

Camille dropped the sponge into the sink and whipped around to glare at her sister. “No, Misa! Not today. It’s
Thanksgiving, for God’s sake! You act like the only reason I get out of bed each day is so that I can drop off Shane, pick up Shane, or babysit Shane. He’s
your
son, Misa. Don’t you think he wants to see
you
sometimes? You think he might want to play with his toys in his room at his house? Fall asleep in his bed for once? Why would you leave your son on a holiday to go run the streets?”

Misa frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, Camille. All you had to say was no. You don’t have to question me as a parent. Just no, and that’s it. I’ll find somebody else to watch him.” She spun around and snatched a couple dirty glasses off the counter, then loaded them into the dishwasher.

Camille shook her head in disbelief. “So that’s your solution, Misa? Pawn Shane off on somebody else instead of staying home with him?”

Misa looked up at the ceiling as if the Lord himself was perched on it. She took a deep breath and then glared at her sister. “First of all, it’s one of the biggest party weekends of the year, and I intend to go to at least a few of them. Just because you like to sit around here playing Suzie Homemaker doesn’t mean that I want to do the same thing. Second of all, I don’t pawn my son off on anybody. Most people enjoy Shane. He’s a good kid. You act like he’s a demon child, Camille. Like I’m asking somebody to babysit Chucky or Damien! He’s quiet and well behaved, he has manners, and he doesn’t ask for much from you. So why are you making it sound like that?” She sucked her teeth, then bent over and continued to load the dishwasher. Misa didn’t see why she was being criticized for wanting to go out and get her mind off the fact that she still hadn’t heard from Baron.

Camille was still shaking her head at her pitiful sister. “I never said that he was bad. That’s not even the point. The point is that you can’t seem to stay home and spend any quality time with your own kid, Misa. He’s over here all the time. And when he’s not here, he’s with one of your girlfriends. I’m talking about you, not Shane. Why are you so selfish that you can’t take time to spend with your own son?”

Misa stood up and stared her sister down. “Selfish?” she asked in amazement. “Selfish, Camille? I get up every single day and go to work. I get Shane up, get him dressed, pack his lunch, and bring him to school. Then I go to that office and I sit at that desk, answering phones and running around like a slave for eight hours. What do you do with your day? Do you have to punch a clock, Camille, or jump when some executive tells you to? You got a lot of nerve calling me selfish when all you ever have to worry about is yourself.”

“You done lost your damn mind!” Camille said in wide-eyed amazement. “I’m selfish because I’ve been blessed enough to have this life I’m living? I’m selfish because my husband doesn’t require me to work and because I don’t have any kids of my own? Are you serious?” She cocked her head to the side, as if looking at Misa from a different angle might make her more understandable. “Misa, how about after you work those eight hours? Huh? What then? Do you rush home to pick up your son and spend time with him before he goes to bed? Do you read him a bedtime story and tuck him in and remind him to say his prayers? Or are you calling me and asking me to pick him up so that you can go run around town like a tramp?”

“I got your tramp!” Misa moved toward her sister, but finally their mother stepped between them. “Y’all oughta be
ashamed of yourselves, arguing like this on Thanksgiving! Today is supposed to be a day when you reflect on all the blessings in your life—your family being one of the biggest blessings! Instead, you’re in here at each other’s throats.”

Misa pointed at Camille. “All I asked is if she wanted to watch Shane tonight, and she went off to left field with it.” Misa looked hurt, and she scowled at her sister. “It’s nice to see how you really feel, though.”

Lily looked at her baby girl and folded her arms across her chest. “Camille is right, Misa. You are never with Shane. Every time I call here, your son is here and you’re nowhere to be found. You probably never stopped to think about it because you’re having so much fun out there at all them parties and whatnot. But you better get back to parenting your son before he forgets that you’re his mother. Pretty soon he’s gonna start calling Camille ‘Mama,’ and then your feelings are gonna be hurt.”

Misa could hardly believe her ears. Her mother was turning on her for no good reason. “Mama, I’m wrong to want to live my life? I’m supposed to just curl up in a ball and die because Louis left me to start over? That’s supposed to be the end of my happiness?” Misa had tears falling from her eyes, but her facial expression conveyed anger rather than the hurt that was audible in her voice.

Lily shook her head. “No, no. Ain’t nobody telling you to let life pass you by. Just because Louis doesn’t have sense enough to spend time with Shane doesn’t give you the right to neglect him, too.”

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