Leah
Ipulled up outside of my parents’ house and sat there trying to regulate my nervous system.
I don’t see or talk to my parents much these days.
When I did, it would only be short check-ins and I love yous, but tonight they invited me over for dinner, and it had me on edge.
My parents and I had an amazing relationship until a couple of years ago, and we’ve never really been able to get it back on track.
I checked Daya’s location and saw that she was ten minutes away, and I was fully prepared to sit outside and wait for her, but then I saw the front door of my mother’s house open, and her appear in the doorway.
She smiled brightly when we locked eyes through the windshield. Her smile was warm and inviting as she waved me inside. I returned the gesture and waved back, but inwardly I groaned, then reluctantly pushed open my car door.
I took slow, labored steps toward her while she stood there, looking like a supermodel.
My mother, Leigh Blanco, was the picture of beauty.
She had a slim build and long legs, graying hair perfectly pressed and curled, and beautiful brown skin that held every sign of aging like a badge of honor.
She didn’t have to look like she was in her thirties because she made fifty-plus look damned good.
Her look was elegant; it was timeless, and she wore it well.
“Look at you, my baby!” She cooed and then held her arms out for me to walk into them, and I did.
I stayed there longer than I expected, being wrapped in her embrace as she swayed me from side to side.
For a second, I felt like five-year-old “Le Le.” I was free from the judgment and sympathetic eyes that I didn’t really care for.
The things that had plagued me for years were nonexistent because in that moment, on that doorstep, I was just her baby.
“Hey mama, how have you been?” I asked after a couple of beats of silence.
She pushed me back, held me at arm’s length, and gave me a once-over like she hadn’t seen me in ages and needed to inspect me. The smile of approval warmed my heart.
“I’ve been good. Just mad that I got skipped over when God was giving out those hips.” She laughed as she slapped my thigh through the material of my leggings, making me laugh, and then pulled me into the house.
I closed the door behind me and looked around. It was spotless, just as I remembered. My mother always kept a clean house; you could eat off the floors, and it always smelled like laundry day. Cleanliness was one of the habits I got from her, and it stuck with me when I moved into my own home.
I walked through the hallway, looking at all the pictures of me. I was my mother’s only child. Aside from a few pictures of my aunt, grandmother, and cousins, the house still looked devoted to me.
I gazed at the pictures on the wall, smiling at the younger, more innocent version of myself. I was the most adorable child, but I could be biased.
We walked into the dining area and sat at the table. Out of reflex, I looked around once more.
“Where’s daddy?” I asked.
“Upstairs taking a shower. He’s tired from being on the road all week, but I woke him up and told him he’d better be downstairs to have dinner or—”
“Or what, Leigh? You ain’t say or nothing.” He interrupted her, appearing in the doorway, making us both laugh. They bickered like an eighty-year-old couple. It was the funniest thing to witness.
“Whatever, Dayton.” She scoffed.
Before I could open my mouth to speak to him, he made his way over to me and pulled me from the chair to hug me. I laid my head against his chest as he held me there.
“What’s going on, Bossy?” He asked, with his chin on top of my head.
“Hi daddy,” I replied.
If anyone knew me growing up, they’d know the bond I had with my parents.
I was their only child together, and although my father had Dayari, I was the only child living in the house with him.
He woke me up with breakfast and tucked me into bed.
Not that he had favorites, but that type of bond was just different.
The fact that we were estranged now, and that those simple moments I used to look forward to felt uncomfortable, saddened me a lot.
I knew that it was no one’s fault but my own, but that didn’t make it sting any less.
When we parted ways, I glanced over his face. Although I could tell that he was tired from the bags underneath his eyes, he still looked youthful. Despite sitting for hours on end in those trucks, he never let that slow him down. At times, I thought he had more energy than me.
“You look good, old man.” I smiled as I sat down again.
“Tell your mama that she got mad at me and told me that I look like Redd Foxx.”
We both hollered as he went around the table, leaned down to her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and then kissed her temple and then her lips.
They were the cutest couple, and no matter how old they got, he never stopped showing her affection.
It was something I admired more than I cared to share with them.
As their child, it was my unspoken duty to make them believe they were disgusting and I didn’t need front-row seats for their PDA.
But it was the opposite. It mattered, and I needed to see that display of love to know it existed.
Just as my father was about to sit down, the doorbell rang, and I knew it was Dayari. So instead of sitting, he walked toward the front door to let her in.
“Mama, the food smells good. What did you make?” I asked, looking around at the table littered with plates covered by lids and domes.
“A little of everything. I made a lot of your favorites. I made extra deviled eggs too.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Deviled eggs were my favorite, and she knew that I would take some for the road.
“Heyyyyyyyyy!” Dayari sang as she and our father came back into the dining room.
She came in loud as usual.
“Hey, pretty girl. I haven’t seen you in so long,” My mother cooed as she pushed from the chair that she was standing in to embrace Dayari as well.
“I know, and you still look good.” Dayari laughed as they parted.
“It’s crazy how much you and Leah look alike now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like your evil ass grandma spit the both of you out.” She said with a smirk.
“Leigh…” My daddy said, rubbing his temples. Scolding her for talking about his mother.
We all laughed as Daya sat beside me.
Our dynamic was different than most, but in my opinion, it was so beautiful. Daya’s mother and my mother were sworn enemies. They still are to this very day. At the time, my father was young, dumb, and running the streets.
He had women that he saw casually, and our mothers wound up getting pregnant within months of each other.
My father had always been an active dad, but he and my mother didn’t get together until I was in kindergarten.
I remember him coming to take me to school on the first day and never going home. They got married a year later.
Daya’s mom and my grandmother hated it. But that never stopped the bond that Daya and my mother grew. In our house, when Daya walked through the door, she was her daughter.
They bought us matching clothes, and Daya had her own room. At no point was she ever made to feel uncomfortable in our home because my mother made sure she knew it was hers too. Their bond, especially, is one that I love.
“Ma, you already know what I came for…” Daya smiled as she sat at the table, hoping my mother had made some candied yams. And I knew she had, because I could already smell the brown sugar and vanilla extract.
Dinner went surprisingly well; we talked, laughed, and reminisced about old times. Things were finally starting to feel normal again. I quickly realized how much I missed being at this table, and in this house.
But as soon as I thought it, I could feel the energy shifting toward the end of dinner. It was like everyone’s posture changed at once, and their shoulders tensed like an elephant had walked into the room.
My mother cleared her throat.
“Leah, honey…”
I looked up from my plate, raising an eyebrow as I held up a spoon full of rice and green beans I had just scooped.
“Hmm?” I asked, mouth still full of the last scoop.
“Dayari and I talked last week, and she told me you were dating again. How is that going?” She questioned me gently.
I dropped the spoon on the glass plate, and it bounced up and down, making the most obnoxious noise until it came to a smooth stop.
My immediate thought was to ask her, ‘What’s it to you?’ But then it all made sense about why everyone was feeling so generous tonight. How everyone hugged me a little tighter, sounded a little sweeter, and held their smiles a little longer.
“You couldn’t ask Dayari since she’s done an amazing job up until this point of telling you my business?” I asked as I slowly turned my head toward Daya, who did everything but look me in the eye.
“Leah, it’s not like that.” She replied quickly.
“Then what is it? You haven’t done a family dinner in years, Ma; now, all of a sudden, after you got this information from Daya, you want to fellowship?” I scoffed, suddenly losing my appetite.
“I was just concerned and wanted to check in. You’re my only child, Leah; that doesn’t stop because you’re in your twenties.” She reminded me. Her voice was losing its gentle tone and matching my edge.
“You shouldn’t be concerned. And Dayari, stop telling my damn business. I don’t do that to you. If you want to tell someone something, tell them about the doctor at the hospital. Miss Night Nurse. But leave my affairs out of it.”
“Bossy.” My father cut in.
“Bossy nothing, Dad, y’all are wrong, and you know it. I’m thinking that finally y’all have completely forgiven me and want to move forward, but the whole time this was an intervention.” I wiped my hands on the napkin, then threw it onto my second plate of the night, half-eaten.
I went to stand up, but my father stopped me.