To Each Her Own (The Swirl Book 1) (15 page)

“It’s okay.” It really wasn’t.

“We were only together for a few years, your dad and me. Melvin was someone I had been with from high-school, and then he got married. His wife died the day I married your father. And somehow, I ended up running into Melvin at a coffee shop. We talked. I felt bad because I still felt something.

Shasta remembered her father saying that Charlotte took the bait. She wondered if Charlotte running into Melvin was even an accident.

Charlotte continued. “Anyway, after I left your father, which was very tough to do, I remember asking if I could see you. I was told no. Not to blame him, I probably should have tried anyway.”

Shasta took it in, and thought back. “I think you did. You and I have seen each other a few times over the years. We just never talked about it, until now.”

“I went away completely because he didn’t want me near you, and I loved you and wanted to keep the peace there for you, even though my love for you was deep. I’m asking you now, what I should’ve asked you before; please forgive me.” Her begging eyes looked unsure.

Shasta reached out and put her hand along her mom’s forearm. “Of course I forgive you. You left twenty-three years ago. Since then, based on the way things turned out, and yes, based on my allegiance to my father, you and I have been distant, true. But, over the last few years, I’ve wondered what things would’ve been like if you’d stayed. But that’s just wishful thinking. I had no choice but to honor my father and suck it up, aiming the entire blame at you. I never thought about whether or not you were happy. But, I’m a grown woman now. It’s okay.”

Charlotte put her left hand over Shasta’s. “Well, I really do appreciate that. I remember when I met you. You were only three. You were such a pretty and outgoing child. Your dad was very cautious about who he had around you. He didn’t trust anyone, and it took him three years to propose. I know that even though I became your stepmom when you were only six, and then I cheated ten years later and left, that you deserved better. I did wrong, but you didn’t. Please don’t feel that my leaving had anything to do with you.”

“I don’t. Well, now I don’t. I may have. But, honestly, he told me that it was all about you, and not him and me. As I said, I did resent you for that. You were the only mother I knew.”

Charlotte’s eyes began to get cloudy. “Oh, Shasta. I’m so sorry.” She moved her hand and sat up straight as Shasta removed her hand, too. “But, I found my soul mate in Melvin. I live a whole other life now, and I have for a long time. And if things could’ve been different as far as your father being okay with me having a relationship with you, I probably would have. But, hindsight is twenty-twenty. It just is what it is.”

“True.” Shasta drank from her glass of orange juice.

“You look good, Shasta.”

She put her glass down. “And so do you.”

“I appreciate you saying that. I know I’ve gained some weight.” She rocked back and forth in her seat, adjusting her skirt at the hips.

“You wear it well.” Shasta thought about telling Charlotte so much, and then thought about not telling her, then only said, “I want you to know that Daddy got a call late last night. It was a call from my boss, Tyson.”

“His old friend, Tyson Bain?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. They’re still in touch. That’s good.”

“Well, I’m telling you this because, Tyson had a lot to say to Daddy. And honestly, most of it was about me. You know I’ve been working for him at Bain. I’m an executive in corporate communications.”

“I remember you telling me that. That’s great. What could Tyson have possibly said to your father about you, especially if it’s work related? What would it have to do with your dad?”

“Tyson decided that it was his business to tell Daddy that . . . that I’m seeing someone. A black guy from work. Well, no longer from work, because I quit. And the guy quit, too. He’s a young man named Ramón. He’s half Puerto Rican.”

“Oh really? And Tyson had the nerve to tell your father? What business is it of either one of theirs?” She gave a look of amazement. “Tyson’s got some nerve worrying about who his employees are seeing. Shasta, from what I remember, Tyson would have women of all colors at his pool parties. And his wife seemed fine with it, young women mainly, being all around him. It made me uncomfortable. So in my opinion, from what I remember of him, Tyson Bain is not qualified to be telling anyone anything.”

Shasta said, “See, I never would’ve guessed that. I never thought Tyson approved of black people, period. But I know better as of recently.”

“Oh, he’s cool with it when he’s on the receiving end. But to think that he had to tell your father about you dating someone black, is just pure nonsense.”

She decided to tell it all. “Truth is though, I was seeing Tyson too, as kind of his plaything at work. I admit it. I know he told Daddy because he felt he could bring me grief, and oh, he was right about that. It opened up a whole other can of worms about race, and Daddy’s feelings about mixing races, integration, segregation, and it all went downhill from there. It got downright ugly. Bottom line; Daddy has an issue with black people. I don’t.”

The waitress walked up with the plates of pecan waffles.

Right away Shasta said as the waitress set them down on the table, “Smells good.”

“They are.” Charlotte pulled her plate closer.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, thanks,” said Charlotte.

The waitress walked away, and both Charlotte and Shasta put napkins over their laps.

Charlotte reached out for Shasta’s hand. “Our Father, we thank you for this food for the nourishment of our bodies, and thank you for this quality time with my lovely daughter. May you continue to bless and keep her, and show her the way. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen.” Finally, a smile formed along Shasta face. They squeezed hands tightly before releasing, and Shasta took her fork and cut into her food.

Charlotte picked up her fork. “Sadly, as far as your dad’s issue, I know about that all too well. I suppose it’s obvious that I don’t have an issue with black people.”

“It is obvious. Your husband is black.” Shasta took a bite.

“See, for a long time I didn’t understand him, mainly as to why he had so much distain for other races, and why he had such a superiority complex. I mean, I really do believe that there’s a reservoir of goodness in him. Obviously there was because I fell in love with him. But, as far as his problem with you dating someone black, let me ask you; do you really like this young man?” Charlotte took a bite.

“I do. He’s different in so many ways. I’m very interested.”

Charlotte chewed, but put her hand over her mouth. “Good. Shame on married man Tyson for hitting on you, his friend’s daughter, and then he has the nerve to trip out because you talk to a coworker who’s black. Did he think your father would be able to change your mind?”

“I have no idea. But as far as fooling around with Tyson, I was wrong. I ended up disrespecting his wife, and myself.”

“Maybe. But he’s the one calling trying to get you in trouble, not the other way around, right?” She drank from her ice water.

“Right. I would never tell her. As much as I imagined getting a thrill from it.”

“I’m sure. One thing I know is, of all people, you know how your dad feels about interracial. Truly, he’s never gotten over me ending up with Melvin.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“I know that.” She cut another piece of her waffle. “I really wanted to talk to you just to see if you could give me any suggestions about how to get Daddy to ease up, just like your husband was talking about in church, get him to want to break the generational curse.” She then asked, “By the way, was that sermon coincidental?”

“Totally. Melvin said he was moved to speak on it just this morning.”

“Wow.  I really think Daddy is a product of his environment, and he’s tried to pass it down to his only child. My dad has always had an edge to him, like he’s been hurt. Even more so after you two broke up, for sure. I do think he’s racist. He’s angry when it comes to black people, and that’s a fact. And deep down, it really does make me think twice about getting closer to Ramón, especially considering that my own father disapproves, whether Daddy and I are speaking not. And the way the call ended just now, it was not good.” She put her fork down, speaking slower. “He called me a nigger lover, and I cursed him and hung up. I can’t get the conversation out of my head. I came in town to spend time with him, but once that call came in from Tyson, everything changed.”

“Oh, no! Sweetie, I am so very sorry.”

“I’ll be fine.” Shasta picked up her fork and ate more.

“He can be tough. And mean. I had to decide though whether his happiness was more important than mine. And so do you. I was not happy at all, in ways you’ll never know, and will never need to know. But you’ve got to decide whether or not you can put your happiness before his beliefs. It sounds like you had planned to put his first, but now, as you said, you’re a grown woman, ready to love yourself more than you love him. Be who you want to be. Be your authentic self. With or without this man, or any other man, no matter the race, you have to come first, Shasta. Without guilt. It must be God, you, and then others. Not God, your dad, and then you.”

“You’re right. I’m afraid I’ve been anything but authentic my entire life. I went to school because he required it. I got my degree at twenty-five so that he would give me my initial level of the trust money. Not sure if you know how it was setup, but I got more of it at the age of thirty, once I got my Masters. And more at thirty-five because I was still being his good little, loving girl. But now, he’s threatening to take it all away from me as punishment, and the amount increases when I turn forty in November.”

“Why did he do it like that? I’m telling you, it’s all about control. To him, you’re misbehaving, like a child. But like Melvin said today in church, as hard as it might be, you have to pray that he will change, that God will set him and move his heart into the right direction, and that his inherited ways will fade, and compassion will overcome him. You have to extol him. You must, Shasta. And forgive yourself for being disrespectful by standing up to him. We all bleed red in the end. One day you’ll both talk again. And one day, you’ll both apologize.”

“I hope so. I really do.” She put her fork down and sat back.

Charlotte took a bite and covered her mouth again. “One thing is for sure. And now’s as good a time as any, because this is something I’ve needed to tell you.” She swallowed and drank a big sip of water. She said, “There’s been something that me, and your dad, have kept from you for a while now.”

“And what is that?”

“He’ll be mad at me, but he can’t be anymore ghost than he’s been. This is about you.”

“Okay.”

She put her glass down. “Shasta, have you heard of the term Black Dutch, as far as someone’s race?”

“No I haven’t. What is that?”

“Black Dutch is commonly used among groups of people with German heritage. They had darker hair and darker complexions than most Europeans. Because they weren’t blonde haired and blue eyed, they were called Black Dutch, and while some were mixed with Cherokee and Spanish, in the south people used the term thinking it implied African mixtures. There was no Dutch in them, it’s just that when the Germans said the word Deutsch, meaning German, people thought they said Dutch.”

Shasta nodded with an expectant face, waiting. “Okay.”

“Well, to go back a bit, at some point, your father’s parents weren’t happy with their oldest son, your Uncle Todd, who as you know, looked the complete opposite of your father.”

“Yes. I never met him. He died before I was born, but I saw pictures of him. Did he and my father have different parents?”

“No. But when your grandmother searched the genealogy of your grandfather’s family, she saw the term Black Dutch in the ancestry. She though it meant he had black or African in his family, and she was not happy with your grandfather. She didn’t want to know more, so she stopped looking things up, but what she did do was make a point of telling your dad how proud of him she was for him looking like her, and that she was proud of him for his blonde hair and blue eyes. What she did after that was, when your uncle was little, she would literally put him in the bathtub and try to scrub the black off of him with Ajax and a wire brush. Your dad was younger and watched that happen.”

“Oh my, no way.”

“Yes. It was sad because she has no idea that we are more than the color of our skin. We can’t be put in a color box and washed like we’re dirty. Shasta, I think he committed suicide. We know he was found hung. The rumor was it was the white people who called him nigger. Your dad thinks he did it himself.”

“That’s terrible.” Shasta tried to imagine it.

“Well instead of feeling pity for your uncle and what it did to him, I think your father began hating the look of people who seemed mixed, and it also stemmed from the old school beliefs of his mom, grandparents, and greats. It turns out your grandfather was Scottish, not Black Dutch, but he did have Spanish in him. Your surname, Gibson, is derived from Gibb, which is Scottish.”

“Really? That is amazing. Did you look that up?”

“Sweetie, your dad told me all of this. I think witnessing what the shame of being dark did to his brother made his views even stronger. He talked to me about it a couple of times.”

Shasta’s pushed her plate away.

“But what’s even odder than all of that, and considering all that’s going on in his head, the biggest thing he’s dealing with is that, like what I did by leaving him for someone else, he has felt majorly deceived by women.”

“How?”

Charlotte picked up her coffee cup and held it with both hands. “When your birth mom got pregnant, she was only sixteen. When her parents found out, they made her give you to your dad when you were born. He liked them young and he was almost thirty. They told him that if he didn’t take you, they were going to file rape charges on him. And so, he raised you from birth.”

Shasta’s head bucked. Her insides cramped. She gave a sorrowful, nervous smirk, asking, “Are you kidding me?”