Chapter Aaliyah
AALIYAH
I was struggling to get out of the house.
With a car seat weighed down with Junior, who had seemingly gained five pounds since he’d been home, a baby bag, and my purse, I struggled to get out of the back door without slipping on the ice-covered pavement– all while fighting whipping arctic December winds, mind you.
The sight before me relaxed me for many reasons.
I was glad to see Fabe because I desperately needed the two extra hands.
Yet, he looked so good in a hoodie, fitted cap, jeans, and Timberlands that I hesitated and took in the view for a second, despite the wind causing my eyes to water.
He was picture perfection of a bad boy image.
“Thank you,” I told him as he jogged towards me and took the baby seat from me.
As we walked towards the garage, he asked, “Where you on your way to?”
“To see my mama.”
Then there was the awkward silence that always surfaced when the topic of my mother came up in conversation.
My mother suffered from Huntington’s disease, which is a form of dementia.
The symptoms began in her thirties. The mood swings, depression, and anger eventually became so bad that she was ordered to live in a home.
I was sixteen at the time. When she was caught stealing from a convenience store, she was so out of it that she never told the authorities that she had a child at home.
I was at home alone for days, wondering where she had wandered off to.
My Aunt Sheree then called saying that my mother had contacted her from jail.
Since my mother didn’t know who my father was, I was then forced to raise myself. I stayed in our apartment alone on the South Side for years, until Rah and I rented our home in Beverly. I visited my mother often. However, since having Junior, I hadn’t been able to.
When my mother was herself, she was a breath of fresh air. She was a beautiful woman, now in her fifties, and was always very smart and schooled me on men. Yet, her bipolar mood swings and severe depression was a motherfucker.
I knew that part of the depression resulted from being locked away from her family. Without around the clock care, however, she was a danger to herself and others. It was my wish to one day be able to afford homecare for her so that she could get out of that place and be with her family.
“You want some company? I came by to see Rah, but I see he isn’t here. He isn’t answering the phone either.”
“Moses had an emergency.”
We stood there awkwardly. He was waiting on permission to come along. I was trying to figure out if it was a good idea.
The way he longingly looked at me told me that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea. When I asked Rah to come with me, as usual, he claimed to be so busy. He never found much interest in going to the home with me to visit mama.
Because of that, I appreciated the concern in Fabe’s eyes and told him, “You should come with me.”
Yet, to keep the distance between us, I talked to my Aunt Sheree on the phone during the twenty-minute ride to the home. As usual, she spent the entire time convincing me to relocate to Houston.
“I miss my niece. Now I have a great–nephew. You guys would love it down here. The weather is beautiful. I know you’re sick of that snow. It’s a great place to raise the baby. Not like that God awful city.”
My Aunt Sheree was two years older than mom, but she was cool with me like a big sister.
Therefore, I shared a lot of things with her.
She relocated to Houston five years ago, when she lost her job at Chicago State and lucked up on a big HR position at the University of Houston.
Before I met Rah and enrolled into cosmetology school, she thought I was lost and needed a fresh start.
She kept promising me that she could easily hook me up with a job at the university.
“I’m doing okay here, Auntie,” I promised her as we arrived at the home. “I’m on maternity leave right now, but I will start school again soon. Plus, I wouldn’t want to be away from mom or to take Junior away from his daddy.”
She sighed, saying, “You’re right. Well, wishful thinking.”
“I’m here at the home now, Auntie. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. Tell my sister that I love her and that I will be to see her as soon as the weather breaks up there.”
“Will do. Love you. Bye.”
Fabe was already out of the car and getting Junior out of his car seat. For a second, I sat in the driver’s seat and marinated in the smell that he left behind.
“Ooo shit,” I muttered to myself quietly with a deep sigh as my insides quivered. Then, I forced myself to shake off the lustful feeling and climb out of the car. Luckily, it was too cold outside to pay attention to the oddly comfortable feeling of having Fabe with me.
Once inside, the receptionist was happy to see me. “Your mom told me that you had the baby! Let me see!”
Fabe sat the car seat on the counter as the receptionist and a few nurses glanced at Junior.
“Ah, he’s so cute.”
“Look at those ears. He is going to be a chocolate lil’ thing.”
As they coo’d over him, I noticed my mother’s nurse, Brenda, approaching me.
“Hey, Brenda,” I said as we hugged. “Is she herself today?”
Peering over at Junior with a smile, she told me, “She’s doing okay today. I’m glad you brought him by. This will make her happy.”
Reluctantly, the nurses dispersed so that I could take Junior in to see mama. When Fabe and I appeared in the doorway, as usual, it took her a minute to recognize me. Dementia caused that from time to time.
“Hey, mama.” Yet, when she heard my voice, she smiled at the realization that it was me.
She was an older version of myself. She was fair skinned with light brown eyes, full lips, a small waist, and hips and butt for days.
I caught many old men in the home looking at my mother with longing eyes.
Old age didn’t stop anything in these homes.
The nurses had told me so many stories about catching these old freaks getting it on.
“Hey, baby,” she said with a smile as she attempted to stand from the chair she was lounging in by the window. When Fabe rushed to help her, she smiled bashfully like she was sixteen. “Thank you, baby,” she told him while giving me curious, googly eyes. She asked me with a smile, “Who is this?”
“This is Rah’s brother, Fabe.”
“Well, Fabe is fine. Look at you. All tall and chocolate. I like dark meat.”
Fabe giggled bashfully.
“Mama, stop that!” I warned her.
“Hey, I ain’t afraid of no dick. I just don’t like small dicks. That’s how you got here.”
Fabe’s mouth dropped open as I gasped. “Mama!”
She giggled. “I’m just playing. Let me see this, baby. I’m going to go wash my hands first. I’ll be back.”
As she left the room, I hid my embarrassment in my hands. “I’m sorry, Fabe. I would blame it on the dementia, but she has always had a foul mouth.”
Fabe stood with an amused smile on his face. He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets staring at me as I unwrapped Solae. His swag was so cool that I could barely pay attention to what I was doing. His eyes were burning a hole into the top of my head.
I forced myself to avoid them until I heard him say, “I like you.”
I finally met his piercing gaze. Our eyes locked. Once again, my body trembled. “Like me?”
“Yeah. I like you.”
Telling him that I liked him too would have only caused trouble. So, instead, I ignored the urge to do so and asked, “Why?”
“I knew from the moment that I met you that you were different.” I could no longer look at him as he spoke.
I focused on Junior as he lay in my arms sleeping.
I picked at invisible lint on his onesie just to give myself something to focus on, except Fabe.
“You’re more than your looks. You want so much out of life.
You’re ambitious. You’re strong. You’re loyal.
You deserve a good man, even if it’s not me. ”
I allowed my eyes to meet his again. My eyes asked him why he didn’t think his brother was a good man. He was loyal enough to his brother not to answer that. It was much like a mother saying the same about her son, though, which meant I should listen.