Chapter 31
That ye be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises.
—Hebrews 6:12
The next morning I got up earlier than normal and went to the shop. I wanted to change some things around to make the place more appealing (at least that’s what I told myself when I got up that early). The truth was: I didn’t want to be bothered with Zeke. The more I thought about things, the more I was starting to resent the way Zeke treated me. Why did he have to leave me by myself almost every single night? Why didn’t he and I go anywhere fun together? Why didn’t we go on trips together like other families or merely now as a loving couple?
I’ve never even been on a cruise. As inexpensive as they are these days to take three-, four-, or even seven-day cruises to places like the Bahamas, I’ve never gone. All of my friends have. Even my mother has been on a cruise, my Medicare-card-carrying seventy-one-year-old mother. The last time she went was two years ago, she and five of her gray-haired slash wig-wearing friends: the fearsome six, I call them. She’d invited me (more out of sympathy, I believe, than that she really wanted me to hang with them). But in full disclosure: I didn’t want my first experience on a cruise to be with a bunch of elderly women who probably got giddy and excited over the mention of shuffleboard.
The fact is: both time and life were passing me by. And all I really had to show for my participation was picture calendars I saved each year and a houseful of stuff that, when I’m dead and gone, will most likely end up in an estate sale, the trash, or, mercifully, donated to folks who come by in trucks and pick up items for charity.
Yes, I’d had children and they were and still are the loves of my life. But children are supposed to leave you and go on to live their own lives, hopefully with the love of their lives. You can’t hold on to your children forever (although maybe someone should tell my mother that . . . namely when it comes to my baby brother).
When I arrived at the shop, I couldn’t help but smile a little as I replayed the events with Ethan from the night before. I wasn’t sure exactly where things were going with us. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t planning on divorcing his wife any time soon (after that initial breakdown I was able to help him through). He wanted to be there until at least his youngest child graduated high school. So as for anything seriously developing between the two of us, even if it did happen, we were looking at about nine years down the road.
The phone rang. It was my home number. I hurriedly answered it, wondering who was calling.
“You need to get home right now!” Zeke yelled before I could get my “hello” out good.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” I asked.
“You just need to get here as quickly as you can.”
“Are you okay? Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s your youngest child.”
My heart skipped a beat then seemed to stop. “What’s wrong? Is Zynique all right?” I hadn’t even thought about checking on Zynique before I left. I was in too big of a hurry to get out of the house before Zeke woke up. But her car was there. I thought for a moment. Yes, I’d seen her car parked in its usual spot.
“Physically, she’s fine. But I think she’s lost her mind!” Zeke said. My heart began its normal beating again.
“Zeke, calm down and tell me what’s going on.” I didn’t see a reason for me to come home just because he and Zynique were at it again.
Zeke can be a little over the top when he wants to be, mainly because he never has to deal with anything at the house. The home and the children were always my responsibility. When any of the children were fighting? “You need to handle those children of yours.” They ask him a question. “Where’s your mother? Go ask your mother.” They need money for something. “Go get it from your mother.” They need a little love and attention from their father. “Where’s your mother? Go get a hug from her; she’s the hugger of the family.” When it’s time for someone to discipline any one of them? “Go tell your mother what you did. Go on now! Go tell your mother.”
So when Zynique and Zeke were at it for whatever reason this morning, the first thing he instinctively did was bring it to me.
“All I can tell you is that you need to find your way back to this house and handle this child of yours. I don’t have time for this!” Zeke said it so loud I had to pull the receiver away from my ear.
“So when do you think you’re ever going to have time for this?” I said.
“Listen, you need to quit all this talking and make your way back home. Because if this child says one more smart word to me, I’m not going to be responsible if I go off on her.”
“Okay, Zeke. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
“Don’t be saying that and it be an hour before you drive up. I have stuff to do.”
“As do I,” I said.
“Well, this is my day off and I don’t plan on spending it with some child snipping back at me. And on top of that: you left without making me breakfast. I don’t know what’s wrong with both of y’all. It must be PMS or something. Y’all are both acting crazy.”
“Zeke, I think you need to dial it back a notch. Because just like you’re not in the mood, I’m not in the mood. Now, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” I hung up and shook my head. My redecorating ideas would have to wait.
When I stepped inside of the house, Zynique was in the den saying something to her father while she was crying.
“Hey! Hey!” I said. “What’s going on here?”
“I should have known he would call you,” Zynique said. “He can’t ever handle anything by himself.”
“All right now. I done told you,” Zeke said. “You’d better watch your mouth.”
“And if I don’t, what are you going to do?” She stared at her father, shutting down her crying voice completely. “What are you going to do? What, Dad?”
Zeke looked at me. “You see what I told you. The girl done lost her mind. You’d better help her get a handle on herself.”
“And if Mother doesn’t, then what are you going to do?” Zynique asked. “Huh?”
Zeke looked at me as though he was saying I needed to hurry up and take control of this. I merely matched his look, thinking of the many times I had handled things like this when he should have. Was there any wonder the girls thought I was the mean one of us two? He always let me do all the dirty work. Well, not this time. This was his fight. I was going to stand back and let him handle it today.
Zeke turned his full attention toward me. “Are you going to just stand there and let this child disrespect me like this?”
I was determined that all I was going to do was be a fair and just referee. If one of them truly went out of bounds, I would call them on it. So far, I hadn’t seen that. Zynique was talking to her father about something. He didn’t want to deal with it, so he thought he was going to put it off on me. Normally, I would have taken it, but not this time. Not today.
“Woman, are you listening to me?” Zeke said, raising his voice at me.
“Yes, Daddy; she can hear you. But maybe she’s telling you to stand up for yourself for a change. Maybe Mother is tired of fighting alone all the time. Have you ever thought about her and what she feels? Do you ever consider her feelings when you’re doing things?”
He turned to Zynique. “Yes, ma’am, I do consider your mother’s feelings,” he said before turning back to me. “Don’t I, baby?”
I didn’t say a word.
“Daddy, why don’t you leave Mother out of this? You were the one who came and woke me up out of my sleep talking about get up and fix you some breakfast.”
“And you were the one who got smart and asked me what was wrong with my two hands.”
“That’s right. I’m not Mom. I’m not your maid. My job is not to cook for you or clean up after you,” Zynique said with her hand on her hip.
“And that’s why you’re not going to end up with a man. You’re going to have to live here with us because ain’t no man out there going to want some lazy woman who refuses to do her womanly job.”
I almost burst into a laugh when he said that. Is that what he thinks when it comes to me? That I’d better do that to keep a man? It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.
“Daddy, let me straighten you out before you go out in public and say some of this male chauvinist junk to somebody else who just might tell you off in a way you’ve obviously not been told off before.”
“I’ve been told off plenty times before.” Zeke then looked at me. “So you’re actually going to just stand there and let your daughter talk to me this way?”
I tried not to smile, but it was so hard.
“Both of y’all done lost your minds! You”—he looked at Zynique—“are over here talking to me as though you don’t remember that commandment that tells you to honor your mother and your father. And you”—he turned to me—“acting like you don’t hear this child running off at the mouth, acting like she hasn’t gotten any home training when it comes to how to talk to grown folks.”
“Well, if I had been waiting on you to do any home training, this is what you would have gotten, if not worse, considering you were never home to do any training.” I said that so calm, I almost scared myself.
“Okay,” he said to me as he nodded, then turned to Zynique. “You know what? You keep on, and I promise you that you’re going to be looking for a place to stay. If your mother doesn’t handle this, I’m gonna show you how tough I really can be. I’ll send your little tail packing. Let you see how it feels to be out there on the streets with nowhere to live. I bet you’ll be glad to get up and fix me some breakfast from here on out.” He nodded as he smirked.
“Zeke—” I said.
“Hush up, woman!” He snapped at me. “There’s no need in you trying to step in now. You wanted to stand there like a cat was holding your tongue. Well, you keep standing there with your mouth closed while I handle my business.”
I tried again. “But, Zeke—”
“I told you to hush up!” Zeke said to me. “I don’t know why you women can’t be obedient the way you’re supposed to be. Submit. Have you ever heard of that word while you were in church? ‘Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands, as unto the Lord.’ Yeah, that’s in that Bible you be toting around all the time.”
Zynique started clapping and singing. “Yay! Daddy knows a scripture! Daddy knows a scripture!”
I gave Zynique my look that told her “Don’t go overboard.” She knew that look; all of my children knew it. It’s the look that doesn’t require you to open your mouth, but the one receiving the look, knows precisely what’s being said.
Zynique turned back to her father. “Do you know what the rest of that scripture says?”
“You mean where it explains to the wives that the husband is the head of the wife?” Zeke said.
“Not that one, Daddy. I’m talking about the one farther down that tells the husbands to ‘love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it.’ That one.”
I was impressed. My baby knew her scriptures. Go on, Zynique!
“And FYI: the word submit there, Daddy, merely means to respect. But I was told you earn respect. And to get respect, you had to give respect. You don’t respect Mother. You treat her like she’s gum under your shoe.”
“That’s not true,” Zeke said. “That’s not true.” He shook his head and glanced my way.
“Okay, when is the last time you took Mother out?”
“What?”
“Oh, I’ll wait; I have time,” Zynique said. “When was the last time you took Mother anywhere? To a nice restaurant, out to a movie, to a concert, a play, for a walk in the park? Okay, a nice restaurant may be too much to ask of you. So how about McDonalds, Burger King, Arby’s, Rally’s? When was the last time you opened up a can of soup for her when she was sick? Helped her bring in the groceries? Oh, that’s right. You can’t help with groceries because you’re too busy not being here when she comes home with them. Mother buys the groceries, loads the groceries, brings the groceries home, unloads the groceries, puts the groceries away, and cooks the groceries. And what is your part in this whole grocery process?”
Zeke looked as though he was really taking in what she was saying and seriously trying to come up with a rebuttal.
“I’ll tell you what your part looks to be from my viewpoint,” Zynique said, continuing without missing a beat. “You eat what she cooks and complains if it’s not to your liking. And you think I’m going to be like Mom, here? Waiting on some man hand and foot the way Mom does? When she can’t even get a thank-you out of you?”
Ouch, now that stung a little.
“Oh, and Daddy, had you allowed Mother to speak when she was trying to tell you something a few minutes ago, I’m pretty sure she was about to tell you that it really won’t hurt me if you put me out. Right now, today, if you like.”
“Is that right?” Zeke said.
“She’s right,” I said, deciding it was time to bring this little exercise to an end.
“And why is that?” Zeke said, turning to me with a smug look. “Because you think this is your house and I can’t put her out?”
“No,” I said. “Because, my dear husband, your daughter has her own house now.”
He started laughing, reaching a level of sheer exaggeration. “Zynique?” he said, pointing at her. “You’re talking about that daughter right there? So Zynique has her own house. Oh, wait a minute. Let me guess.” He laughed. “It’s already paid for and everything. Right?”
I smiled while Zynique smirked. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
His laughter began to temper. “So what did you do? Buy her a house? I mean you seem to give your children, especially Zynique, everything else they want.”
“Nope, I didn’t buy her a house.”
“Had you gone with me last night you would know what happened,” Zynique said, folding her arms.
“All right, Miss Smarty Mouth. What happened?”
“Madame Perry left me her house,” Zynique said, then grinned.
“She left you her house?” Zeke said. “What do you mean she left you her house?”
“Just what I said. She left her house to me. She also left the dance studio in my care,” Zynique said.
Zeke looked at me. I nodded.
“What about her son? Didn’t she have a son?” Zeke said. “I’m sure that’s not going to go over well with him. If I were you, Missy, I wouldn’t start counting my chickens before they hatch.”
“You are always so . . . corny,” Zynique said.
“Clichéd,” I clarified.
“I’m just trying to tell Little Miss Uppity here that she might want to watch her mouth with me until the deed has been transferred into her name,” Zeke said. “ ’Cause I know how folks can be when it comes to relatives and inheritances, anything associated with someone getting something that someone else thinks they should have gotten or are entitled to. So Zynique, you might want to wait and see if that child of hers doesn’t contest the will or something before you start rising up at your mother and me.”
I frowned, wondering how he was all of a sudden including me in this.
“Okay, Daddy. Whatever.” Zynique waved him away.
“All right now. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Just keep on . . . you hear?”
Zynique huffed, then left the room.
“Do you believe that?” Zeke said to me.
“Believe that you called me from my place of business for something like this?” I said.
“So you knew about this already,” Zeke said. “And just when were you planning on letting me in on this piece of breaking news?”
“Who, me?” I patted my chest. “I planned on telling you last night after I came back from Zynique and me meeting with the lawyer. Let me see now, why didn’t I happen to do that?” I snapped my fingers. “That’s right! You weren’t here when I got home.” I started walking toward the front door.
“Hey,” Zeke said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I stopped and turned around. “Back to work,” I said.
“Back to work? Well, who’s going to fix me my breakfast?”
I walked back over to him, lifted his hands, and began to examine them.
“What are you doing?” he asked, glancing between my face and his hands with a slight look of concern.
“Oh, just checking your hands. They appear to be working fine to me, too,” I said.
He snatched his hands out of mine. I again walked away. Just as I opened the door to go outside to my car, I heard him yell after me, “And I have too brought in groceries! A few times! I have, too!”