Chapter 4-Kenya
“Hello, Mother,” I said when she opened the front door for me, which was odd. Normally, something as trivial as opening the door was beneath her, but I decided not to address it.
Every Sunday since before I could remember, we had brunch as a family at noon sharp. The brunch included my parents, my sister, her family, and me. It was tradition, and as much as I hated it, I dared not miss it.
“Hello, Kenya. You look well, daughter. Coral is a lovely color on you.” She eyed me from head to toe, only mimicking approval. Just like everything else, this was done on her terms.
Her complimenting the dress I was wearing was no surprise for the simple fact that it was something she urged me to buy.
My mother, Mrs. Olivia Monroe, was what many would describe as bourgeois , and she made no apologies about being who she was.
She was a woman from an established family with means, and she managed to marry up a class to a man from an even wealthier family.
She thought that because I was thirty-five, unmarried, and childless that I had to be a lesbian or deranged. Neither was the case.
She married my father when she was twenty, and Kendra followed the pattern, marrying Ivan right after her twentieth birthday.
A part of me wanted to fall into line for no other reason than to appease her.
The other part of me recognized that regardless of what I did, I’d never be good enough for her. Yet, that didn’t stop me from trying.
“Thank you, Mother. You look beautiful as well, as always.”
“Thank you. Maybe if you wore that color more, you wouldn’t still be single. Speaking of your lack of interested suitors, I met Mia, Ahmad’s wife, last week. His mother introduced us when we met up to have breakfast. She is a lovely girl. I see why he made the choice he did.”
“Excuse me, Mother?” I said, waiting for her to clarify her declaration. All of her statements caught me off guard, but in reality, I shouldn’t have been surprised by any of it.
It took her less than five minutes to remind me why I only visited her and my father once a week.
“She’s a lovely young lady.” Her annunciated words were spoken slowly, as if she were the most educated person between the two of us and needed to speak slowly so that I could keep up with the conversation. “Such a beautiful person and—”
“Ladies, let’s not bicker,” my father, the voice of reason, said as he entered the foyer, coming into view behind his wife.
I’m sure he knew that he was interrupting yet another disagreement between my mother and me. She always managed to get under my skin, but anything that she had to say about Ahmad’s wife was below the belt, and she knew it.
“How is my lovely and stunning daughter doing today?”
“I’m fine, Father,” I said with my eyes still on my mother, who was sucking her teeth at the exchange between my father and me.
The smirk she wore moments earlier was gone. I had no desire to emulate her. What kind of woman smiled at her daughter being hurt?
“Good. Great!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, his light brown eyes bouncing between the two of us. “Come on in. Francesca is almost done with the food, and Kendra, Ivan, and the kids are in here as well.”
He grabbed my hand, leading me to step around and bypass my mother in order for us to walk into the formal dining room.
The house smelled divine. A mixture of both savory and sweet, but considering Francesca was in the kitchen, I wasn’t surprised.
Although my mother was a stay-at-home wife, she said that she felt the need to hire an extra set of hands once she had me, and in came Francesca, our housekeeper.
Because of the tension between the two of them, I always felt like there was more to the story, but I knew that even if there was more, my mother would never tell me.
To my sister and me, Fancy, which was what we called her, was much more than a housekeeper. She was a maternal figure and a belonging part of our family, especially for me. She gave us a mother’s love when our mother was too busy keeping up with appearances.
Though Olivia was more maternal to Kendra, there were times when she wasn’t mentally and physically available for both of us.
“Good afternoon, y’all,” I said as I walked in and greeted my family before taking my assigned seat.
Per usual, Kendra had her entire family color coordinated. Their color choice was mint, with the girls wearing matching Ralph Lauren dresses, Ivan Jr. wearing a mint button down to match his father, and Kendra wearing a mint blouse with an over-the-top bow.
“ Y’all? You are too educated for that slang,” my mother declared as she walked into the room. “I know for a fact I raised you better than that.”
Here I was, just feeling like I could sit through this brunch, and here she comes, ruining it with her prude and judgmental nature. “Ahem,” I cleared my throat, feeling my anger boil over. “I’m sorry, y’all . I don’t think that I can do this today.”
My Birkin bag hadn’t been on the floor thirty seconds before I was picking it up to make my exit. Standing up, I was more than ready to leave. Tradition be damned, I wasn’t in the mood to be her proverbial punching bag.
“There’s my girl,” Fancy said as she wheeled in a cart full of food. Her smile and knowing, kind eyes were enough to shift my mood. She stopped and stared at me with her hands on her hips.
“Fancy.” I cheered as I walked towards her. She extended her arms and wrapped me in a hug.
There was something about Fancy’s hugs that always calmed me.
She pulled away from our embrace and rubbed my cheeks, just like she did every time she hugged me.
Fancy was in her late sixties and wore it well.
She had flawless milk chocolate skin, dark eyes, a button nose, full pouty lips and long, gorgeous tresses she wore in a top-knot bun, and a killer physique that I could only pray for once I was her age.
“Where are you rushing off to, my dear? I made your favorite, stuffed French toast, and I will not stand you rushing off before you enjoy a plate. Now have a seat,” she said in a stern, loving tone.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said and took my seat next to Kirsten. Leave it to her to put me in my place and get me to stay.
For the entire brunch, I chose to ignore all of my mother’s negative remarks that were directed at me, especially her comment that I should focus less on my career and put more energy into starting a family like Kendra.
When everyone finished eating, I escaped the table and joined Fancy in the kitchen. It always bothered me that my mother wouldn’t let her eat with the family at the table. Without a doubt, I would have enjoyed brunch much more if Fancy could sit beside me.
When I walked into the kitchen, she was washing dishes. As always, I grabbed a towel so that I could dry them and then put them away.
“Young lady, don’t I tell you every week that I don’t need your help in this kitchen?”
“Yes, ma’am, you do. And don’t I tell you every week that this is the most enjoyable part of my Sunday?”
“Are you sassing me?” she joked, putting her hand on her hip, giving me a slick side eye.
“No, ma’am, I would never.” I did my best to conceal the laughter in my voice as she stared me down.
“That’s what I thought. Now that that’s settled, are you going to see my stubborn son after this? He mentioned the two of you meeting up.” She continued to wash dishes, one after the other, passing them to me when it was my turn to dry them.
Tobias, Fancy’s son, was my best male friend.
He used to come to work with her when we were younger and basically grew up with Kendra and me, but he and I were always closer.
Tobias had a checkered past that included several run-ins with the law, but he had a heart of gold, just like his mama.
He was almost like a brother. I could go to him for anything, and vice versa.
“Yes, ma’am. You know that his house is always my next stop after enduring my mother’s hate during brunch.”
“Sweetie, Olivia means well. You have to understand that in our day a woman’s worth amounted to her family.
She just has a hard time grasping that you have chosen your career to define you.
There is nothing wrong with that. Shoot, girl, I am proud of you.
A young, black, educated woman. Now that is something to be proud of, sister girl,” she cheered, more than likely knowing that I needed it.
“I’m glad that someone understands ... It just seems like I can’t make her happy.”
“That’s where you are messing up, sweetie.
Your life isn’t meant to make her happy.
It’s meant to make you happy. I heard what Olivia was saying at the table, and I don’t agree with any of it.
She highlighted how happy Kendra is in her marriage and with her family, but she left out that the girl barely graduated high school.
You have a degree for every child that she’s birthed.
Stop comparing yourself to your sister and stop letting it get under your skin when Olivia does it. You’re better than that, young lady.”
“Fancy, why couldn’t my mother be more like you?”
“Oh, honey, there is only one Ms. Fancy,” she teased, and I joined in her laughter. If I had a dollar for every time I fantasized about Fancy being my mother, I could retire both her and me.
I helped her finish the dishes, put away the food and, like always, she gave me a plate to take to Tobias, then I told everyone except for my mother goodbye and snuck out.
During the drive to Tobias’s house, I listened to Nina Simone. It was necessary so that I could mellow out and clear my mind. I pulled up, parked behind his Escalade, grabbed his plate, and headed inside, making use of my key.
“Tobias!” I yelled as I took off my shoes and set down my purse by the front door.
“Kenny, give me a minute! I just got out the shower. I’ll be down in a few!” he yelled from over the balcony, calling me by the name he gave me when we were kids.
I was his Kenny , and he was my Tobi .