The Eternal Engagement

“Why can’t I go to New York and hang with my college friends?” Mona stood at the island, picked an egg from the paper carton, held it in her hand. After tapping the shell on the edge, she plopped the yolk and egg white into a bowl, then picked up another egg. She’d cracked two more eggs before her mother responded.

“I’ll give you three good reasons why. Because you don’t have a job, your father won’t supplement it, and I can’t afford it.”

She watched her mom sit at the kitchen table thumbing through the Saturday morning paper. “Can you believe those pro-choice activists are planning to rally next weekend in favor of a woman’s right to have an abortion? If these little fast girls weren’t so quick to open their legs and mouths at the same time, they’d have a husband to take care of the baby instead of mutilating their bodies by having an abortion.”

Her mother believed a woman’s job was to procreate. Maybe her mom was right, but Mona was a free spirit and didn’t want anything or anyone holding her down.

This might be the perfect time to confess. Detaching the tiny white embryo from the yolk, Mona reflected on the day she’d aborted Lincoln’s baby. His leaving and not calling within two weeks made her decision easier. She didn’t want kids, she wasn’t prepared to be a mother, and she refused to be a single mom.

“Ma, times have changed. Women have the right to choose when they want to start a family. And if no one can make a man be a dad, then no one has the right to force a woman to be a mom.”

Slapping the newspaper shut, her mother scolded, “Don’t speak crazy in my house. Only God reserves that right. We’re Christians. And true Christians don’t kill. The Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’”

True Christians? Mona was convinced she’d take her secret to her grave. Being away from Selma for a year was great. Gave her time to mature. Discover what she liked most about herself. Spontaneity. Spunk. Suspense intrigued her.

Studying a little. Partying a lot. Getting drunk. Having tons of sex. The independence she had at Clark Atlanta was awesome. Selma was still her home base, but Mona wanted to booze it up in the Big Apple.

“Mama, I have to see Times Square, go to plays on Broadway, tour Brooklyn, get—”

“Brooklyn?”

“Yes, Mama. It can’t be bad to visit a place where people live. I know you can afford it. Come on.” Mona poured grits into the boiling water, layered bacon into a pan, beat the eggs, then poured them into a hot cast-iron skillet.

Her mother married at twenty, worked ten years, gave birth to her at the age of thirty, and never spent a penny of her money for anything. Mona’s mom told her that story enough times for Mona to know that neither her dad nor her mother was broke. Her mom was what her dad referred to as penny-wise and dollar-smart.

“Little girl, who do you think has to pay your tuition for the next three years? And your dorm fees? And for your meals? Your clothes? And who puts money in your pocket and gas in your car? Money does not grow on trees.”

Mona mumbled, “You do.” But a couple of hundred dollars wasn’t much.

Digging her cell phone from inside her bra, Mona answered, “Hi, Steven. What you doin’ tonight?” She’d broken up with him right before leaving for college. No need in lying to herself. She had zero intentions on being faithful.

Steven called every day during her summer break. She wished he’d gone to college instead of bumming around town. Mona wasn’t sure what he did to earn money, but Steven was never broke.

“Whatever you want. Where you wanna go? I can pick you up whatever time you say.”

A wide smile crossed Mona’s face. “I wanna go to New York!”

“Then let’s go. Pack your bags. You can stay at my house tonight and we can head out first thing in the morning.”

Mona flipped the bacon, put grits and eggs on her mama’s plate, then hers. “Mama, Steven is taking me to the Big Apple.” Her smile disappeared. “Oh, wait, Steven. I forgot to tell you I don’t have any money.”

In his country accent, he said, “That’s what you’ve got me for. I’ve got you covered.”

“Mona, hang up the phone. You’re not going anywhere with him. I said no, and that’s final.”

Final was relative. “Steven, let me call you back. Bye.”

She stared at her mother, placed her mom’s breakfast on the table, then said, “I see this has nothing to do with money. Be grateful, Mama. I’m not pregnant. I’m in college. I have good grades. I’m grown, and like it or not, I am going to New York. You don’t tell Daddy where not to go and you’re not going to tell me.”

Mona had lost her appetite. She went into her bedroom, slammed the door. She’d made up her mind. What was her mother going to do?

She couldn’t stop her from leaving.