Chapter 16 #2
Popping her head up, searching my son’s face, Germoney asked, “Are you going to run down the stairs with me?”
“No.”
Frowning, she asked, “Why not?”
“Because you aren’t a kid. My kid,” he said as all the little feet had a ball laughing and clapping while traveling down the stairs.
Seriously, she said, “But I’m your friend, and your friend would like to laugh like the toddlers. I think I can use head bobs to bring the good things to the forefront of my mind. I’m tired of seeing the bad.”
“A’ight, but um Germoney, don’t get attached to me like on a boyfriend, girlfriend thing. I’m not on that type of time,” he said softly as Azaria hollered ‘Dada’ in laughter.
Frowning, Germoney said, “August Junior, please, don’t flatter yourself like that. You aren’t my type.”
All eyes were surely on them. My son growled so nastily that it sounded possessive. When he dropped the cutie onto her feet, I knew he spoke some shit just so he could focus on his real goal of being in college.
“Whoa! Whoa! What was that, August Junior?” Germoney giggled as my son walked toward the door propped open by a tan, wood wedge.
He ignored her, and we ladies and George junior were deeply invested in their show.
“So, you are going to ignore me like that? Wow, friend,” Germoney held out, taunting my son.
Stopping at the door’s opening, August Junior said, “If I’m not your type, there’s no need for me to have you on me while I run down the stairs.”
Confused as fuck, Germoney said, “But you—”
Facing us, my son was a confused mess as he looked at the even more confused young lady. Strongly, he bellowed, “I know what I said, Germoney. It shouldn’t have left my mouth. I was supposed to have thought that. I like you, and I just met you. That’s a problem for me.”
Sighing deeply and interlocking her fingers, she said, “I understand. I wasn’t going to be clingy with you, August Junior. I … I … I … never mind. Enjoy your time with your family. I’ll take care of my siblings and me. I’ll see you around.”
Turning on her heels, she looked at her siblings and smiled. “Let’s go.”
“Germoney,” August Junior called out as George Junior and Grishla waved at us.
As she walked backward, smiling brightly with disappointed eyes, she said, “You aren’t my type because my body isn’t built enough for you.
My face isn’t pretty enough to be next to yours in pictures with a caption of ‘my girl’.
Like I said, I had no intentions of pursuing you for anything other than being your friend. I’ll see you around, August Junior.”
Spinning on her heels, Grishla hissed, “You are pretty, sister. Your petite body is fine. You saw the other beautifully dark-skinned woman who is petite. She’s married. Stop thinking you have to be thick for a boy to like you.”
Go after her, August Junior. She has low self-esteem. Help her build it, I thought, watching my son’s mouth move as he took baby steps behind the young lady who would be perfect as his friend, possibly girlfriend if she kicked the low self-esteem shit.
“Gotdamn it, Grishla!” Germoney spat, frustrated, as she walked down the hallway and looked at her sister.
“He’s too damn fine to like someone like me!
That’s not me downing myself! That’s me being realistic!
Fine ass boys don’t date the nerdy girl; they come to them when their grades are low!
They don’t ask us acne-faced girls to be their girlfriend!
We are just their friends at school! You, on the other hand, are beautiful!
Boys like August Junior will instantly put you in the dateable category, more so than the friend zone!
You have no facial flaws! Can you please change the subject because this one is adding onto all the shit I’ve been holding in? ”
As tears pooled in my eyes, many cell phones rang, including mine. The loving tune pushing from my phone was assigned to my husband. I couldn’t answer him because Germoney’s pain reflected Laysha’s pain. I related to Grishla a lot because I was the one trying my damnedest to undo my mother’s words.
Stepping forward, I blurted, “Germoney, you are beautiful, as you are. My Momma used to tell my sister, who isn’t on society’s scale of beauty, that she was ugly. Listen to Grishla. Join a support group for verbal abuse. Love yourself. If you don’t, you’ll fall for anything.”
Looking at me over her shoulder, she faintly smiled. “It’s always easy for the gorgeous women to shine light on someone who doesn’t see beauty in the mirror. I’m sorry I can’t tell you thank you, but I’ll think about joining a support group for verbal abuse. Have a lovely day, Mrs. Abbott.”
“Everyone doesn’t deserve to have kids,” I said sadly as a tear slid down my face.
I watched the Henry children walk away with sagging shoulders and much uncertainty, just as I had to watch my siblings walk away, leaving me to become the mastermind of survival.
?????????
With a tray of warmed oils, lit scented candles, and a cup half filled with bourbon, I walked onto the balcony.
After taking a solo hot shower, my husband wasn’t himself.
He was in quiet mode. The Henry parents’ situation, their children not present for our lunch and fun date, his past, and my past had overwhelmed him.
Thiago didn’t do a good job at making anyone happy.
He couldn’t be silly. I learned he was in kill mode because his Chief had them on standby.
As the thick cigar smoke wafted into my presence, causing my stomach to feel as if it was turning over, Basic Black’s “Special Kind of Fool” cruised from our Bluetooth speaker.
Seeing my husband rock along with the beat and singing, I softly said, “I don’t want to disturb your peace, but I need to.
Can you please put out that cigar? The twins don’t like it. ”
“Anything fo’ you,” he answered, looking at me. “I love you an’ our family.”
“I know. Why are you telling me every thirty or so minutes?” I asked, stepping onto the patio as he stubbed out the cigar.
“I feel as if I don’t say it enough,” he replied, pushing the ashtray toward the other side of the circular table. “Come here.”
Nodding, I walked to the man with a heavy head and heart. I wasn’t sure if my quietness and nakedness under the short black robe would aid him in sleeping peacefully. Yet, it was worth a try.
Placing the tray on the table, I asked, “May I massage your head, neck, and shoulders?”
Patting his lap, he longingly looked up at me and nodded. “Please do that.”
Saddling into his lap as if he were a horse, I exhaled. “Close your eyes.”
Upon not seeing them, I dipped my right hand into the warm, massaging oil and said, “Ease your mind. Don’t think about anything. Just breathe in before breathing out. Focus on my fingers. Understood?”
“Understood,” he uttered, sliding his hands up my thighs.
Sliding my palms together, I analyzed my husband’s breathing. It was unsteady, choppy-ish; his mind was still heavy. His head was the first thing that had to be massaged, so I rubbed my thumbs on his temples.
Resting my lips on his, I soothingly said, “You are the head of our household. You are the king I worship morning, noon, and night. When your head is so heavy that it’s about to tumble off your neck, you need to seek me to step in and regulate shit.
How do you do that? You tell me it’s a quiet night for us.
I’ll set up our room with candles and soft music.
Then, I’ll massage your body. I’ll breathe life into you.
I’ll give you my strength so you can continue to lead us. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” He nodded slowly, slouching in the chair and massaging my hips.
“The energy has changed for everyone, August. You are more of an insider with X than I am. I’m very sure much shit was said when you and the fellas were in huddle time.
What do I need to know to ensure you can continue to do your job of securing and receiving happiness?
” I asked, sliding my fingers further onto his head.
“The mother dead. The father’s life hangin’ in the balance ‘cause of me. I’m cool wit’ that, but what George Junior said ‘bout his dad … the reality of them eatin’ as if they was starvin’ suggest George Junior lied to save the less mean parent.
It ain’t like the dad tried to ensure his children had a safe environment.
Their situation brought me to yours. X gon’ call me in twenty minutes an’ ask me what I want to happen to George Senior.
I ain’t understandin’ why she askin’ fo’ my input.
She a boss bitch. I ain’t affiliated wit’ her.
I can’t pinpoint her action of puttin’ me in that part of her business.
I ain’t ever been in it,” he spoke coolly as a figure appeared to my right, startling me.
“What’s wrong?” August asked as I stared at X and her goons.
“The Savage Clique is staring at us.” I breathed uneasily as August sat upright and turned his head to the left.
“Sorry for disturbing y’all’s peace. I need to speak with you, August. I heard what you said.
The reason I put you in that situation is that I saw him as a good father.
You saw something different and brought it to my attention.
I would love you to work with me as an observer.
I’m not making a demand. I’m asking. You won’t get any dope from me because I heard loud and clear from Thiago that’s not the way you want to roll.
You only need just enough to take care of your family.
Will you become an observer for The Savage Clique?
Yes, you will be on payroll. You won’t be involved in the front lines of anything.
You’ll be in the center of my guys and me.
You will have a supped-up truck in formation at the end,” she offered smoothly.