Shayla finished applying the last coat of red nail polish to her pinky toe when her mom’s car pulled into her driveway. She leaned forward to peer out the front door which was propped open with the glass raised on the screen to let in some fresh air. Light jazz played on the radio, not her favorite, but she was too lazy to get up and change the station.
In a way the music helped sooth her uneasiness. Devin agreed too readily to keep their relationship a secret that morning. After making such a fuss about letting everyone know they were together, she’d thought he would continue to insist. A part of her hoped he would. It was nonsense, but she liked that he didn’t care what people thought. But, as she watched her mom get of the car and lumber toward her porch, she had to admit she could kiss any chance of her mom visiting her after church goodbye if Devin had gotten his way.
The smile Shayla had to greet her mom melted away when Marcella yanked open the screen door. There was a thin sheen of perspiration on her face along with a fierce scowl. Her blue dress suit was spotted with sweat. It was the same look her mom had when she’d heard the rumors about Shayla and Tony.
Shayla lowered her feet from where they’d been propped on the coffee table. “Everything okay?”
Marcella put her hand on her hip and took several deep breaths. “You care to explain to me about last night?”
Shayla’s heart pounded. There was no way her mom could have found out about her and Devin. She’d told no one, not even Tasha. “I told you about the art show.”
Marcella narrowed her eyes. “Not the art show. You care to tell me why Devin tried to fight Tony at the diner last night?”
Shayla released a sigh of relief and sat back on the couch. “I have no idea. They’ve never really been close.”
“They were close before you started playing games with them. Don’t play with me, Shayla, are you up to your tricks again.”
“My tricks! Are you serious?”
“I’m very serious. It’s was all anyone could talk about today. The way he and Tony got into it after Devin’s date with Kia. Aren’t you tired of playing those two against each other?”
Shayla shot up from the couch. Her indignant march to her mom was more of a waddle due to the cotton balls between her toes, but she was too angry to care. “I’m not playing those two. I don’t want anything to do with Tony. I never did. He—”
“Save it, Shayla. There wasn’t a problem between them for years. You come to town for a few weeks and suddenly they’re fighting in the street. Did you go to Tony and put him up to this? Were you trying to ruin Kia’s date?”
“I can’t believe this. I went to Columbia last night. I haven’t seen Tony since that horrible night at his club and I don’t want to see him again. Disregarding my feelings, I listened to what you said and haven’t gone after Devin. When he has, and always will be, the only man—”
“Stop it.” Her mom held up a hand and walked away. When she turned back to Shayla her lips were compressed in a hard line. “Don’t say anymore. I believe you didn’t put him up to it. It’s just that people assumed you were the cause and knowing your history . . . ” Her mom shrugged as if that explained it all.
Marcella’s abrupt change of subject was clearer than words that she knew her request for Shayla to stay away from Devin was painful. It should have been a shock to discover her mom’s complete disregard for her feelings. But, it was just another example that no matter how much she may try, Marcella’s feelings wouldn’t change. Why the hell did she keep trying to make her mom happy?
“No matter what, you’re never going to approve of me,” she said quietly.
Marcella scoffed. “Quit being overdramatic, Shayla. It’s not like I haven’t tried to find the good. Your bad keeps coming through.”
“I am not a bad person.”
“No, but you’ve got bad genes.” Marcella marched toward the door.
Shayla moved out of the way. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to shed them. She’d cried over her mom’s lack of affection for too long. The first few months after leaving Helena, when she’d call home from Spelman, she’d cried every time her mom hurried off the phone or quickly passed it to Kenny. The illusion that life in Helena was getting better was just that: an illusion. She could go to church every Sunday, raise money for ever orphan in South Carolina, and remain celibate for the rest of her life; her mom’s feelings wouldn’t change.
Marcella left without another word. The screen door slammed. Shayla flinched. She had to leave town. There was nothing for her here. There’s Devin, she thought. With a shake of her head she pushed that thought away. Would having him make living here better? Would it really lessen the pain of knowing her family would ostracize her forever? And would he even want to be with her forever? Sure, there was something between them, but that could be leftovers from pent up adolescent longing. She would further degrade herself in her mom’s eyes only to have their relationship fizzle after six months or a year. No other guy stayed around that long. Why would he be any different?