Chapter 10 Geneva
Geneva
Wednesday evening, and Charlie was down at my mother’s house, playing with her cousins. Eric was in the bedroom, primping in front of the mirror.
I would be working the weekend and off Thursday and Friday.
One large Papa John’s cheese pizza, a six-pack of Corona, and some Ben I kept the bathroom light on twenty-four hours a day for Charlie.
My eyes were half shut as I pushed the door open and began rolling my T-shirt up around my waist, and then I heard the steady sound of urine hitting the ceramic inside of the bowl.
My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at a man’s back.
Of course, I was still half asleep and thought I’d walked in on my son, like I had a million times before.
I was about to open my mouth and chastise him about not locking the door when the figure turned around and I was face-to-face with the man from the diner!
“Oh! Oh!” I squealed, bringing my hands up and over my eyes and then taking them down again because I was sure that I was seeing wrong. I mean, why would the Mos Def to my Alicia Keys be taking a piss in my bathroom?
When I peeked at him again, I could see recognition quickly blending with the embarrassment on his face.
I threw my hands back over my eyes and cried, “I’m sorry!
I’m sorry!” as I backed carefully out of the bathroom, bumping into the sink and then bouncing off the wall before losing my balance completely and falling backward onto my behind.
“Ma!” Eric shrieked from behind me as he fitted his hands beneath my armpits, trying desperately to hoist me up.
“This is your mother?” Deeka was astonished, and I could tell by the tone in his voice that he’d recognized me as quickly as I had him.
“Yeah. Now help me.” Eric’s voice was etched with fear.
Deeka started to lean over, but I threw one hand up and said, “No, no, I can get up by myself.” I had dreamed about him touching me a million times, but in those dreams I wasn’t sprawled out on the floor in a dingy T-shirt, my head wasn’t wrapped in a washed-out head scarf, and I certainly didn’t have dimpled thighs!
Oh, the shame!
“You sure?” Eric’s voice was filled with concern.
“Yes,” I whispered. I was so embarrassed, I couldn’t find it in me to look at either one of them. “Just go away,” I breathed.
“I-I’m sorry, Ms.—” Deeka started, but I interrupted his apology by shaking my hand at him and sputtering, “Just go!”
“C’mon, man,” Eric said, and his hands eased from beneath my arms. I turned my body a bit so that Deeka could slip by.
They walked toward the door, and Eric said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yo, man, I’m really sorry,” Deeka murmured.
“Don’t worry about it, man.”
When the door closed, Eric was at my side again. “What happened?” he asked as he knelt down beside me.
“Just help me up,” I choked out behind hot tears of embarrassment.