Chapter 22-Kenya
“Girl, I wish you would have called me,” Sydney said in response to the situation with Dreux’s mother.
I invited her to my house for a girls’ night in.
As always, I prepared a nice set-up, and we were indulging in a cheeseboard, chocolate-covered strawberries, pineapples, bananas, apples, and our favorite wine.
She asked me about how the celebration for Cross went, and I filled her in on the events of the night, not sparing a single detail.
“It was too late in the evening to call you, and I handled it,” I said with a smirk, as I thought back to when she hit the ground.
Women, well, females , amazed me.
Not many people realized that there was a difference between a woman and a female . A woman was a woman because of her mentality, how she handled herself, and how she navigated through life.
However, a female was a female because of her gender.
A prime example of what a female was, was Keesha and the group she arrived at the club with.
They all lacked common sense, class, and maturity.
The simple fact that they arrived at a memorial for Cross, uninvited, and caused a scene was my validation that they were nowhere close to being women, nor to having the mentality thereof.
“Listen, I would have paid big money to have seen you pull out your stun gun and taser that skank,” Sydney said and burst into laughter.
“I simply protected myself. You should have seen them, though. They were all in crop-tops that none of them should have worn out of the house, bottoms that they couldn’t button, and over-worn heels that needed to be thrown in the garbage.
Oh, and please don’t let me forget that Devon’s ex had on white and was on her cycle. ”
“Tell me you’re lying.”
“Unfortunately, I’m telling the truth.” I acknowledged, shaking my head while biting into a strawberry.
“I wonder why she even thought that it was a good idea to show up. Hoes will be hoes, though,” she said and took a sip of wine as I nodded in agreement.
“Do you know the status of their relationship? Like what is their history? In my experience, the only reason a baby mama shows out like that is because she either can’t get over him, or they’re not really over. ”
I knew that she was referring to the situation that occurred between her and the mother of her husband’s daughter.
When Sydney and Curtis met, he had a daughter, Angel, from a previous relationship, and for the first year of their relationship, his daughter’s mother put her through hell.
It seemed like she was doing everything in her power to destroy the relationship that they were building, including threatening to keep their daughter away from him if he didn’t end things with Sydney.
What Sydney endured with his child’s mother turned me against dating a man with children.
At the time, I thought that it was better to be single than to deal with the drama that Sydney had to, and a part of me still felt that way. I didn’t know if I could tolerate the constant chaos of a bitter baby mama, yet here I was, possibly in the same situation.
“To my knowledge, he has primary custody of their child. When I asked, he said that they were never in a relationship. They were just friends with benefits.”
“Oh, he got his buddy knocked up. Females like that stay trying to get a man with a bag instead of trying to secure their own income. I can never understand that mentality, but I guess you have to get it how you live.”
“Get it how you live?” I questioned.
As soulful as Sydney was, and as much as she tried to keep me hip, I could admit that I was out of touch on a vast array of urban slang. Being with Devon exposed me to a lot, but I was still pretty square.
“Lord Jesus, please help my friend. Amen,” she said dramatically, which caused me to burst into laughter.
“Am I that far removed?” I asked as I laughed so intensely that tears were flowing down my face.
“You have to ask though? Yes. Yes, Kenya, you are that far removed. If it weren’t for me, you would probably be over here eating cucumber sandwiches, without the crust, and drinking unsweetened tea.”
“Wait a minute, I can’t be that bad.”
“You are though. But at least you’re authentically bourgeois. I can appreciate that. You’re not a hood chick trying to be something you aren’t. This is really you.”
“Seriously though, what changed with you? I love you, just as you are, but you used to be my bourgeois buddy , then you blossomed,” I said, putting her change in personality mildly.
“I went to an HBCU. That’s what happened to me.
Being around so many people that looked like me, brought out my true self.
My parents hated that I didn’t follow you to Columbia University, but I needed to get from under their thumb.
I’m glad that I made my own way. Because out of my siblings, I’m the one that went against the grain, and I’m the only one truly happy.
My sister and brother are rich and miserable, yet I’m the paid, booked, busy, and happy outcast,” she sassed, snapping her fingers.
“That’s how I feel with my family, except the opposite.
I became an attorney in an attempt to please my mother, yet I’m still the outcast, while my under-accomplished sister is the golden child.
I love what I do, and I’m damn proud of my accomplishments.
However, I failed miserably at making my mother happy. ”
“After what she pulled with Devon, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if she approved of my life or not.
She has done a lot to you over the years, but that debacle of a brunch was out of line and uncalled for.
I probably would have told her to meet me outside, but that’s just me,” she said as she held up her hands in a mock surrender.
“I can’t get into a physical altercation with my mother.”
“And why not?” Sydney asked me seriously.
“Because she is my mother.”
“Kenya, being a mother is more than just pushing out a child. As far as I’m concerned, Ms. Fancy has been more of a mother to you than Mrs. Monroe has ever been. You may be an attorney, but you can’t debate or deny that truth.”
Sydney was right, leaving me no room to fight her on her statement.
I couldn’t recall a time, not even when I was a child, when my mother ever had or attempted to have a positive relationship with me.
She was good at giving me criticism about what I was and wasn’t doing with my life, but she never gave me the love or attention that she gave to Kendra.
“You’re right,” I said, pouring more of the wine into my glass.
“Kenya, you don’t have anything to be down on yourself about.
You may not be exactly where you want to be in life, but baby, you have done damn good for yourself.
You are a bomb-ass divorce attorney. Hell!
You’re not just a divorce attorney. After settling the Smith divorce, you are the divorce attorney.
I know that she’s your mother, or whatever, but if that isn’t good enough for her, then you need to give her your ass to kiss.
I’m proud just to be your best friend, so I know I’d be too damn proud if you were my child. ”
“Thank you. To hear you say that, means so much.”
“Girl, anytime you need me to hype you up, just let me know. That is what I’m here for. I know that you would do the same for me.”
“In a heartbeat,” I said as I raised my glass. “Cheers to good friends, wine, and living life.”
“Cheers,” she said with intoxicated eyes, “and cheers to you finding you a little hood love, tasering hoes, and finally living your best life!”
“Must you say it like that? You make me sound like a bad person.”
“I would never refer to you as a bad person, but now I can say that my best friend is about that life. Ugh, I wish that I could have been there. I have not had a good brawl since I was in college.”
“ Brawl ? And you call me reserved, who says brawl anymore?”
“ I do, and I’m going to make the word stylish again …
Oh, speaking of stylish, Ahmad’s wife, Mia, came into the boutique.
I tried to ignore her, but she was going on and on about her divorce from her husband, the attorney.
She had been running her mouth for a good thirty minutes before I put two and two together to realize who she was. ”
“Did you tell her that you knew Ahmad?”
“No, but I did tell Madison to put her out,” she said proudly.
Madison was Sydney’s cousin and, coincidentally, the owner of the boutique Sydney loved to shop at. Aside from her naturally stylish nature, Sydney had her hand in fashion because of Madison.
In fact, Sydney worked there part time, although she didn’t need to. She had a great career, but she also possessed a passion for fashion that always worked in my favor.
“Why would you do that?” I asked, humoredly.
“Anybody who plays a part in hurting my best friend doesn’t deserve to walk around looking stylish.
Not on my watch. But between the two of us, he had to be putting her through it for her to be looking as raggedy, thin, and stressed out as she did.
It’s obvious he stole her youth and sanity to where she’s unrecognizable. ”
“How you get them is how you will lose them.”
“Exactly.”