18. Renaissance Harper #3
She didn’t even ease into the conversation before tellin’ me she was short on her car note and needed me to cover the rest before they charged her another late fee.
I asked what happened to the money she was supposed to have saved, and she gave me a long explanation about her light bill, some clothes she had to buy and a weekend trip she claimed she had already committed to before everything started fallin’ apart.
“Ryan… you knew that car note was comin’ before you went on that trip,” I reminded her while openin’ the Apple Pay request.
“I know, Reni, but I thought I was gon’ have enough,” she replied. “I’m not askin’ you to pay the whole thing. I just need the rest.”
“And next month?” I asked while lookin’ at the amount she sent me. “What you gon’ do when the same bill come back around?”
“I’ll have it next month,” she promised quickly. “I swear.”
I had heard that same promise too many times, but I sent the money anyway because the thought of her car gettin’ taken bothered me more than watchin’ another few hundred dollars leave my account.
She thanked me and told me she loved me before hangin’ up, and I sat there lookin’ at the confirmation screen while wonderin’ why everybody always found a way to get themselves into shit they knew I would pull them out of.
My mama and daddy didn’t need me to take care of them.
They had built good careers, managed their money and made sure their lives was straight long before me or my sister was grown enough to understand what that took.
They loved me, but that love came with a standard that never moved just because I was tired.
My father expected me to conduct myself like every room I walked into had his last name written across it.
My mama could hear one frustrated word in my voice and remind me that bein’ overwhelmed wasn’t an excuse to lose control of myself.
Neither one of them said I had to be perfect, but the way they raised me made it hard to accept anything less from myself.
Even now, I could tell my mama I had managed three businesses, helped half the family and spent the night in the hospital with my grandma, and she would still ask whether I had followed up on some property paperwork I mentioned two weeks earlier.
She wasn’t bein’ mean, but damn. In her mind, she was keepin’ me focused because she knew what I was capable of.
The problem was everybody knew what I was capable of, and they kept givin’ me more because of it.
After leavin’ the salon, I drove across town to check on one of my rental properties because the tenant had sent pictures of water stainin’ the ceiling near the kitchen.
I met the maintenance man there, listened to him explain that the upstairs unit had a slow leak and then called the plumber myself because waitin’ until the next day would’ve meant more damage.
While the plumber worked, the tenant followed me around complainin’ about the noise, the smell and how inconvenient it was for her to have strangers in her apartment.
I stood there apologizin’ for somethin’ I didn’t personally cause while makin’ sure the repairs was done right, then promised to have somebody come back and repaint the ceiling once it dried.
Before I even pulled away from the building, the manager at my hookah lounge called because two servers had started arguin’ in front of customers. One accused the other of takin’ money off her table, and somehow both of them believed screamin’ across the lounge was the best way to settle it.
I drove straight there, separated them and checked the camera footage myself.
After watchin’ the video, I figured out the whole thing started because one server grabbed a payment the other one was supposed to close out.
It wasn’t theft. It was confusion that turned disrespectful because neither one of them knew how to stop talkin’ long enough to listen.
I sent one home and wrote the other one up before walkin’ through the lounge to make sure everything else was runnin’ right.
The music sounded good, the sections was full and clouds of sweet smoke hung over the room while people laughed, drank and enjoyed their evening. Everybody looked relaxed except me.
I had barely eaten all day, and my head had started hurtin’ hours ago, but I stayed long enough to check inventory and make sure the liquor count matched what was entered into the system.
By the time I finished, I wanted nothing more than to go home, take my clothes off and sit somewhere nobody could ask me another damn question.
Then my mama called and told me my grandma had started feelin’ weak again.
I drove to her house, helped her into my car and took her to the hospital while she kept insistin’ she was fine. We sat in the emergency room for hours while nurses came in and out to check her pressure, draw blood and ask the same questions she had already answered.
My aunt called me twice for updates but never offered to come sit with us. Another cousin texted me to ask whether Grandma needed anything, then followed the question by tellin’ me she couldn’t leave work. Everybody cared, but somehow I was always the one physically there.
By the time the doctor said my grandma was dehydrated and needed to rest more, she was half asleep against my shoulder. I drove her home, made sure she took her medicine and put a bottle of water beside her bed before I left.
Now I was parked outside my condo with both hands restin’ in my lap while I stared through the windshield.
My purse was on the passenger seat, my phone had three unread messages and there was a pile of paperwork inside my work bag that I needed to look over before the mornin’.
I knew there was laundry inside my condo, food that needed to be cooked and an alarm waitin’ to drag me into another day before my body had recovered from this one.
I didn’t even wanna go upstairs…
That was when the thought hit me that I was tired of bein’ the person everybody came to when they needed somethin’. I loved my family, my businesses and the life I built, but nobody ever seemed to notice how much of me it took to keep everything movin’.
Everybody got to fall apart because they knew I would hold them up. I didn’t know who was supposed to hold me.
I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. For one second, I let myself imagine walkin’ into my condo and findin’ somebody there who would take my purse, tell me to sit down and handle the rest without me explainin’ what needed to be done.
That thought brought Renza to my mind before I could stop it.
When we was together, I could come home tired and irritated, and he would know before I said anything. He might crack a joke about the way my face looked, but somewhere between me kickin’ my shoes off and tellin’ him about my day, he would start runnin’ my bath water.
Sometimes he would sit on the edge of the tub and listen while I talked. Other times he would wait until I got out, rub oil into my skin and massage my feet while tellin’ me I did too damn much for people who would figure life out if I stopped fixin’ everything for them.
I used to think he was only sayin’ that because he wanted more of my time. Sittin’ here now, I understood he might’ve been the only person who noticed I was stretchin’ myself too thin.
It had been a couple days since we spent the night together, but we texted every day since then. The messages wasn’t all deep or romantic, but he checked on me, sent me some stupid shit that made me laugh and kept his word when he said he was goin’ to hit me up.
Shit between us still wasn’t where I wanted them to be, but they wasn’t bad either.
I reached for my phone and stared at his name for a few seconds before pressin’ the call button. I almost hung up while it rang because I didn’t l know what the hell I planned on sayin’ if he answered.
Renza picked up before I could change my mind, and loud laughter came through the phone behind him.
“Wussup?” Renza answered, his voice fightin’ through all the noise.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holdin’. “You busy?”
“I’m at the gun shop,” he replied. “These niggas in here talkin’ shit, but I can talk. What’s up?”
Somebody shouted somethin’ in the background, and Renza laughed before tellin’ them to shut the fuck up. Hearin’ him sound like himself gave me a small piece of comfort, even though I still didn’t know how to tell him why I called.
“I just had a long day,” I admitted while rubbin’ my fingers across my forehead.
Renza’s voice changed slightly when he answered. “What happened?”
I started with the funeral home and told him about the woman I prepared this mornin’.
Then I told him about the salon, my sister needin’ money and the plumbing problem at one of my properties.
Once I started talkin’, everything came out because I didn’t realize how badly I needed somebody to listen without callin’ to ask for somethin’ else.
“My grandma got sick again, so I been at the hospital with her half the day,” I continued. “They said she gon’ be okay, but I just dropped her off and now I’m sittin’ outside my condo because I don’t even feel like goin’ inside.”
Renza stayed quiet for a second before askin’, “You ate today?”
I looked toward the empty cup in my holder. “I had some coffee this mornin’.”
“That ain’t what I asked you, Reni.”
“I grabbed somethin’ from the salon earlier,” I replied, even though half a granola bar barely counted as food.
“What you eat?”
I sighed because he already knew I was avoidin’ the question. “It don’t matter.”
“It matter if I’m askin’,” Renza told me. “You movin’ around takin’ care of everybody, but you ain’t fed yo’self all day?”
“I was busy.”
“You always busy,” he replied. “That’s how you end up runnin’ yo’self in the ground behind muthafuckas who gon’ keep breathin’ whether you save ‘em or not.”
I closed my eyes because those was almost the same words he used to tell me when we was together.
“They my family, Renza. I can’t just ignore ‘em.”