Chapter 4
Mona
Since coming to Birmingham, Alabama, and learning about the local sandy beach hangout spot at the state park in Pelham, Alabama, I have been eager to visit three times a year on a solo trip.
I was a nature woman. Woods, bushes, trees, animals, and water have always calmed me.
They gave me the freedom to solve my issues so I wouldn’t fuck up my household and my great, endless possibilities for a normal life.
As children hooted, hollered, and splashed water among themselves, I grew cozier on the circular black float with a Bluetooth speaker.
Looking into the cloudless, beautiful light-blue sky, Min was on my mind a lot.
Even though I had much to think about, I couldn’t strip my thoughts from the greatest deceiver close to me.
The one who had it all and didn’t understand hardship.
I was wrong to think that Min could never experience hardship.
She was so strong, positive, and a joy to be around.
I hated that I couldn’t be at her side while she dealt with something no one wishes to go through after giving the love of her life the best gift—a mini version of them.
“You breathin’ heavy, Mona. What’s on yo’ mind?” August asked, grabbing the black handle on the float.
“Min and her depression,” I answered, sliding my head in his direction.
Slowly nodding, he replied, “Yeah, that one fucked me up, too. I hate she ain’t want to confide in us. But I do understand why she didn’t. Do you feel that you gon’ suffer from postpartum depression after havin’ another kid?”
“No.”
“I ain’t gon’ shut the house down, Mona. The mo’ people in our corner, the better. You know that, right?” he offered, sitting upright on his dinosaur float.
Nodding, I said, “Yes, I know.”
“Get Min off yo’ mind fo’ a minute. Let’s focus on why we here. Amana an’ her bullshit, Azaria going to daycare, an’ you wantin’ a job,” he said as Barry White’s voice boomed from across the lake.
Turning my head toward the canoes, which I felt was blasting the deep but mellow man’s tone, I said, “Amana’s a done deal.
When I catch her ass, I’m going to beat the skin off that bitch.
Her leg bone will be broken. She will learn to stay the fuck away from our son.
She’ll be scared to look at him whenever she sees him.
As for Azaria attending daycare, I’ve been petitioning for it.
She needs to be around kids her age. You are the one against it.
If you think some kid will bully her, you are dead wrong.
She will pull their arms and legs as if they are detachable.
She will whack the fuck outta them with a pail or shove a bear over their face.
I looked at a few daycare centers near us.
I like the one three minutes from the house.
Sunny Kids Daycare. I went there last month.
The kids are happy and friendly. The staff are welcoming.
An application is in my truck’s glove compartment. So, are you on board with her going?”
“I’on know. She daddy baby. The hoods love seein’ me pull up; they know she innaback, rockin’ her head, an’ showin’ that gap.
Motherfuckas barely greet me when they open my back door.
They gunnin’ fo’ her mush mouth ass. Azaria keep me outta shit.
If Thiago see us, he ain’t finna ask me to do shit but go out to eat or ride wit’ him to take his churren an’ Azaria to the park.
I … I think I’m the Velcro parent or whatever folks call them kids that be glued to they parents.
But if you feel she should go to daycare, we can visit the facility Monday.
If I like it, we gon’ enroll her,” he offered, causing me to smile.
“Cool beans, Velcro Dad.” I smiled, extending my hand to him.
“To you workin’, spill it,” he said, bringing my hand to his mouth. No matter the time or day, I loved seeing my hand gunning to his mouth due to him moving it there. Butterflies and centipedes crawl around my stomach, making me smile in the ugliest way while blushing.
“I’m a people’s person until someone pisses me off.
I see myself dressed in scrubs, helping people by doing the simplest shit.
I think I want to work with the elderly.
Like at an assisted living facility like the one Momma Orthella lives in,” I answered, seeing sadness in his eyes even though he smiled.
I knew what the sadness was about. His lifelong dream was to live with his mother again.
Sluggishly, he blinked and nodded. Fully focused on me, giving me the visual of knowing the little boy who hated having to leave his mother’s side was up front and center, I hopped off my float and grinned.
“Time for Momma Orthella to hear us before seeing us. No debates. We are done talking about us.”
Hopping off his float, August gazed into my eyes with love. Lightly, he chuckled. “Okay.”
As he swirled me into his presence, August looked down at me and smiled.
“From the moment I knew I wouldn’t be able to find yo’ silhouette in the dark …
I knew I couldn’t just see you as someone to shoot the shit wit’ from time to time.
You see an’ speak on things that most sweep undah the rug.
I appreciate you givin’ me, a nigga wit’ a teen, a chance …
not knowin’ if that kid gon’ give you hell or not.
I love how August Junior took to you. It was natural.
I wasn’t surprised Momma took to you well.
She love the fuck outta you. Say if she ever want to leave the assisted livin’ place would that be an issue fo’ her to live wit’ us?
I’mma take full responsibility of takin’ care of her. ”
Resting my chin on his wet midsection, I smiled up at him. Calmly and lovingly, I replied, “No, you won’t take care of her. We will take care of her. Have you spoken to her about your wishes?”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head.
“Then, you need to get on it.”
“I try, but she always shove me away from askin’ her.”
“How?” I asked, frowning.
“I can show you better than I can tell you. Let’s go,” he ushered, motioning for me to grab the floats.
Once my wet palms grabbed the black handles, August cuffed my ass. I cooed as he slid me up his body. He laughed and shook his head. Blushing, I dropped my head and said, “Don’t say shit stupid.”
“This cloaked motherfucka got you gone.” He chuckled, causing me to howl in laughter while nodding.
Not just him, but you as a man, I thought, kissing the hollow of his neck as he walked toward the shallow part of the beach.
Many people felt a man who knew how to love and take care of his momma was the man they needed, but I disagreed.
It was the man himself. His values, dreams, and morals.
I’ve been around men who cared for their mothers but weren’t worth a damn to their girlfriends or wives.
That’s why I never cared about a person’s relationship with their family.
It didn’t define them; it showed why they were a certain way toward others and their families.
After we changed clothes and tossed out deflated floats in the back hatch, I knew August’s mind was on his mother, her blindness, and his fear of something happening to her because she couldn’t see, only feel and rely on her hearing.
Once inside the truck, I brought the engine to life, blasted the air conditioner, and rolled down the window.
Given it was hotter than lava in my truck, August didn’t look at me crazily. Once I lit a blunt, he did.
Extending the blunt to him, I said, “You need this, not me.”
“What’s up wit’ yo’ ass not smokin’? Clean piss all ‘round us fo’ drug tests,” he asked, accepting the tightly rolled good good.
Quick with lying, I replied, “I don’t want to use anyone else’s pee.”
Smiling, he nodded. “Okay. I’m gucci wit’ that.”
“You better be.” I grinned, dropping the gearshift into the reverse position.
“My Mona Beezus Averhart, trynna do the damn thang. I see you,” he said lovingly, placing the blunt to his lips as I slid out of the parking slot.
Needing him to laugh hard, I giggled. “Of course, you see me. The sun’s shining bright as fuck.”
August howled in laughter while interlocking our fingers.
Mission accomplished.
While I skirted away from the parking area, August started the music.
La Chat’s “Thug Chick” blasted. I shivered as the song once held thuggish memories.
To date, it has an entirely different memory that I wish I could escape.
I was tired of envisioning my cousin fighting for the incredible life she’d built with King.
God, please don’t let me sink into postpartum depression after having August Senior’s and my precious twins. I don’t want to know what numbness feels like because of sinking into a dark hole. I don’t want to look at our kids through blurry vision, I thought as the music stopped.
Snapped from my thoughts, I felt my body shake as my vision clouded.
Tears had formed. Skating his knuckles down my jaw, August spoke through coughing, “Min gon’ be okay.
She got King. He’s a motherfucka when it come to makin’ sho his heartbeat okay.
Trust him. Don’t defy him. If you do, I’mma side wit’ him.
Always. Why? ‘Cause I know how he think. Just trust him. She in they household, not ours. A’ight? ”
I wanted to be angry with him for saying he would side with King over me, but I couldn’t. There was a time, recently, that I dipped so far into the past that I shut down. A gut-wrenching yell came from the bottom of my stomach before I cried until my throat ached.
Once I became silent, I slid underneath King’s and Min’s high-rise table. Thankfully, the children weren’t there, but Min was. She didn’t bother me. She did what she always did when she couldn’t tolerate me in that state—kiss my forehead, told me she loved me, and walked away, wiping her face.