FAITH
He’s set off to the side in a trance-like stare. His chin rests on his left hand that presses against the driver side window, and his right hand unconsciously takes over the steering wheel. He's quiet. Too deep into thought.
“What's wrong?”
He shakes his head, never once looking at me. The tip of his thumbnail is now being nibbled on.
“You sure? You're really quiet over there?”
“I'm good,” he says. But I know he's lying. He's never been this quiet except for when I first found him up at the school. There's no hiding it.
“Why you so quiet? Did I do something?”
“Nah. I told you I'm good. I'm just thinking, that's all.”
“Oh.”
A beat of silence.
“What was it you were going to tell me earlier before the nurse came and got me?”
“I got the job,” he says so blandly.
“Really? With who? Where?” I try to bring that same excitement he once had earlier today, but the more I pry, the more he recluses himself, still never looking my way.
“Devin?”
“Yeah?”
“What is really going on? You were so happy earlier today. What's changed?”
He lightly scratches at his neck—that avoidance kind of scratch—before answering me.
“I told you I'm fine. I'm just thinking about some things. I promise I'm fine. How is your wrist feeling?”
“It's fine. We can talk about that some other time. I need to know who's got you so focused?”
“Babe…please…let it go. I’m fine.”
“Alright, fine. If you're fine then I'm fine,” I say and throw my hands up in the air. But I know he's lying.
Two days later
After visiting the Urgent care two nights ago, the only thing on my mind is how to cover this small bruise by my eye before I have to see my mother today. That fall was something serious. I hadn't even noticed that I had hit my face when I came crashing down cause’ as soon as I landed on my hand the wrong way, that's where all the pain came from. Never mind being nearly knocked unconscious.
I pull the driver visor down, check my quick makeup job. Everything looks good. My dashboard clock reads 1:30, so I gather my things and make my way out of the car and hustle into the restaurant out of the whistling cold.
I enter the Café, find a seat nearest the window. My mom comes in second.
Maybe we can start this day off right between one another.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Hi darling,” she says and gives air kisses. She's so bougie sometimes. I swear. I never know which Cynthia I'm going to get each day. We both take our seat, waiting for the waiter to serve us. My mom looks at me, her head rests upon her laced fingers arched by her elbows, and she bats her lashes at me. Any more blinks and she may just blow me away with all that damn wind coming from them.
“Yes?” I ask.
“How are you?”
“I'm okay.”
“I saw your hand. What happened?”
I look down at my wrist forgetting that the brace was still on. Yeah, turns out I fractured it after all.
“Before I tell you, you don't need to get all worked up. I'm fine.”
“Sounds like you're covering up for someone,” she says. Oh boy, here it goes.
“Like who?”
“You know who.”
“For your information, I did this on my own.”
“How did it happen?”
“I fell at work.”
“How long did it take for you to come up with that?”
“What? That's not a believable story? People don't fall at work?”
“No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying maybe—“
“You know what Ma, not today. Please. I'm really trying to have a good lunch date with all of y'all. I don't need this kind of conversation right now.”
She shuts her lips, clears her throat, and pulls out her cellphone scrolling over whatever it is she's looking at.
Shortly after, my two aunts along with my sister walk in. The quiet ambiance isn't so quiet no more once Aunt Regina makes her presence known.
“Family!” She gleams, taking down her sunglasses and giving us the biggest smile we'd seen in a while.
“Hey y'all.” I get up from my seat and hug all three of them. They each sit down in their respective chairs. Cynthia continues to look at me with the face of disappointment. By now, I honestly should be used to it, but for whatever reason, I'm not.
“So how you been baby? You and that boy still together?” Aunt Regina asks. I subtly nod.
“How's he doing?”
“He's doing really good.”
“He found a job yet?” Aunt Valerie adds her two cents.
“As a matter of fact, he has.”
“That's good. I'm so happy for him. How y'all doin'? He still living with you?”
My mother jumps in unannounced. “Yes he is, and look at what he's doing to her?”
“What?” Aunt Regina looks around at me.
“Show them!”
“Show them what, Ma?”
“Your hand!”
I look at her like she's lost her mind. “For what? He has nothing to do with this.”
“That's what you want us to believe.”
“Ma. Oh, my God. Are you kidding me right now?”
“Show us what?” Aunt Valerie asks. I lift my wrist to show them my brace. Everyone looks at me confused.
“For all inquiring minds, NO, he did NOT do this to me as my mother so wishes to claim.”
“Well, what happened?”
“I fell at work fooling with them kids.”
“Oh. And your mama thinks ol’ boy did it?”
“Exactly!”
“Cynthia…” Aunt Regina calls out to her.
“What?”
“Leave that boy alone.”
“Leave him alone? He's the one that got my daughter all jacked up over there breaking her wrist. Did she tell you about the job interview he went on with Clay?”
“No. What happened with that?” Aunt Val asks.
“Mama…”
“Why you still talking to Clayton anyway, Sis?” Aunt Regina changes the subject.
“That's what I want to know,” Trish chimes in.
“Don't change the subject here.”
“Is somebody gonna explain what happened in the interview?” Val comes back.
“Well Devin...” my mom starts, her eyes staring deep holes within me. I sit back, waiting for her version of the story so that I can give mine next. “Decided to go up in there and act like a hooligan over some bogus nonsense. Clayton was asking him questions, and clearly, one of them triggered him and sent him on a violent rant, and he almost assaulted him.”
“No he didn't? Not that sweet boy we met at Christmas dinner?” Valerie asks.
“Cynthia, now I know you my sister and all and I know you're an educated woman, but honey, you just as dumb as the person who told you that bold face lie about that boy. Devin ain't do no such thing. And if he did, he probably had every reason to. I ain't never liked Clayton to tell you the truth. He always seemed sneaky to me. And truth be told, you know too that he was no good. So there's no way I can believe that. There's just no way. I don't get that vibe from him.”
Thank you, Auntie. She always has my back.
“Regina, you don't have no vibe. You think everybody is good.”
“No, I don't. You just heard me say I don't like Clayton. Now that fool ain't to be trusted. I don't know what you see in him,” she goes on to say, “not unless you sleepin' with the man.” But this time mumbles it under her breath. I look at her wide-eyed. She cracks a smile, and I do the same, doing my best to hold back a laugh. She squeezes my thigh. I know what it means.
“Anyway…Valerie,” my mother gives her attention to her oldest sister and starts back up with the story again.
“He's violent. He has no social manners. He clearly doesn't know how to conduct himself, and he's putting his hands on my daughter, and now she's sitting here taking up for him because she doesn't want him to look like the bad guy.”
“Sis, is he putting his hands on you?” Trish asks.
“Oh my goodness. Trish, please don't fall for whatever Mama is telling you all. Devin has never put his hands on me. I broke my wrist at work. That's it. I promise you that's it.”
“So Ma, why do you keep saying that Devin is doing all this stuff to Faith?” Trish asks. I know my mother has probably been spreading all sorts of lies to everybody about him and I. Cynthia looks at her, firm on what she's about to say.
“Because I know those type of men, Trish. Your sister is so wide open for this boy that I believe she'll do and say anything just to keep him out of trouble.”
“But Ma, you don't have any real clues or reasons as to why you feel the way you do. You're just going around making this stuff up about him. That's dangerous,” Trish says. I nod but remain quiet. Bout time somebody gets it.
“You guys are trying to paint me out to be the villain here.”
“No, we're not. We're just trying to get you to see that you're just dysfunctional and need some good, you know,” Aunt Regina says while simultaneously thrusting her waist into air pumps. We all begin to laugh, except my mother.
“Ma, listen. Why don't you just try to get to know the guy? Clearly, he's been doing a lot for Faith. She even seems…lighter and happier now. Can't you see that?”
“Lighter? Happier? No. Ever since they got connected, she's been nothing but a disrespectful little bi—Lord, y'all ‘bout to make me cuss up in here.”
“I knew that little devil was in there somewhere,” Aunt Regina laughs. I sit back. Can't even fathom the thought that my mother was about to call me a bitch. I'm simply a bitch because now I'm finding my own voice and removing myself from her shadow. That's what's eating away at her.
“Don't say something you're going to regret,” Trish tells her.
“That boy is hitting her. I'm telling you he is. You guys can believe her all you want, but I know the signs of an abused woman. She's trying to hide it, but I see right through it. And she thinks by putting on makeup, I can't see that black eye she got. He's going to get his real soon for messing with my daughter.”
They all lean in. I guess my concealer ain't do a good job. Aunt Regina turns me around quickly, scanning all over my face.
“You got a black eye?” Aunt Val jumps in. Trish too.
“Y'all, I swear to God, Devin is not abusing me. All of this,” I point at both my wrist and eye, “happened at work. I fell trying to put these stupid learning trees up on the ceiling. Came down sideways. Face hit the edge of the desk, barely missing my temple. I tried catching myself. Clearly came down wrong. Fractured my wrist. That's all it is. You can go up there and ask. Another teacher was there when it happened. Logan was there when it happened. I'm telling you the truth, Devin did not do any of this to me. I'm good.”
“I believe you, baby,” Regina tells me and then takes a sip of her water.
“She's lying and y'all know it. He is putting his hands on her. I just know it. A mother knows.”
“Oh Cynthia, please. All along, Clayton was grabbing up on your child and calling her all sorts of names and disrespecting her, and she tells you about it, and you do nothing but take up for that man. You sound more in denial about abuse than she does.”
“But I'm not being abused. Would y'all please stop it?” I pound the table.
“I know. I'm just saying, your mama over there acting like she's all concerned now because she sees a broken wrist, a little bruise on the side of your face and a dude that she doesn't know living with her daughter and trying to tie it together, when she should've been more concerned about that ex of yours who was actually abusing you.”
“I'm not going to sit here and let you all talk down to me like I'm some kind of liar.”
“Here she goes being all dramatic,” Regina says.
“I'm not being dramatic. I have every right to be upset right now.”
“Why? Cause the truth hurts?”
“That's it. I'm done.” My mother scoots from the table and gets up to leave.
“You started it!”
“I've had it with both you and Faith. Maybe you should've been her mother since you know her so well.”
“Hell, maybe I should've been. At least I wouldn't have pawned her off to some classless jerk like you did, Cyn.”
“Come on now you two. Stop with all that bickering. Cynthia, sit down,” Valerie jumps in.
“No, let her go. I'm sick of her bourgeois ass anyway.”
“Trish, I'll call you later,” she says, then she looks at me. “I want him out of that house, Faith.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I want him out of that house, or else I'll get him out myself.”
“Hold on. What are you talking about you want him out? You don't own that house.”
“I co-own that house, Faith.”
No, she doesn't. Does she? I need to check.
“Mama…”
“I want him gone,” she says and heads towards the door.
“Cynthia?” Aunt Valerie shouts for her, but she continues to walk away leaving the four of us seated together at the table.
“What was all that about?” I ask.
“Chile, that's your mother. You know it wouldn't be like her if she didn't have some kind of dramatic exit.”
I don't know if I should be hurt, frustrated, confused, or worried. Maybe all of them at once.
I look at my sister who seems removed from this whole incident. And Aunt Val, she has no clue of what just happened but tries to remain calm and peaceable. And Regina…well, she's just being auntie, I guess, interrupting the awkward silence and says, “Oh well. Let her leave. Who's ready to eat? I'm starving.”
But that conversation Devin and I had a while ago is beginning to make me rethink some things. She's acting like this over a broken wrist that had nothing to do with him. Can't believe she's this bothered.