Chapter 8
Dionne Henry
Follow My Lead
I’d just pulled up to my grandma’s house, and I was prepared to get scolded.
This was my dad’s mom that I was coming to see, and I already knew that she was going to lay into me the second I walked in her house.
I haven’t been making it my duty to come by and check on her.
My dad didn’t ask me for much, but every time that him, and I would talk over the phone, or when I visited him at prison, he would always tell me to go and visit my grandma because she was always asking about me.
Going to see anyone on my dad’s side was always a struggle for me, and always something that I had to build up the courage to do.
It was just a lot of negativity on that side, and a lot of folks that weren’t where they wanted to be in life, so when I came over, of course, I was always talked about.
It was always comments from them, saying that I thought that I was better than everyone, and a bunch of other bullshit.
That environment isn’t where I wanted my daddy to go when he was released from prison.
I didn’t want my dad around all that negativity.
I didn’t want him at a space where it was going to be crowded, either.
My auntie Paula, who was my dad’s younger sister, was still living there with her children.
Mind you, my auntie Paula had three grown children.
One was my age, and the other two were just a few years younger than me.
She was living there with her oldest son, Mark, her middle son Jalen, and Jaz, who was her youngest daughter.
Jaz was the only one that I was somewhat cordial with.
I was coming over today because my dad had his parole hearing in two more days, so I just wanted to come over, talk with the family, so that they could be up to date on what was going on, and what time they needed to be at the hearing.
I had an hour long conversation this morning with Sevyn, and he walked me through step by step on what was set to take place at the hearing, and one of the things that he told me was that my dad was going to need all of the support that he could, and that’s why I called Jaz, asking her if she could get all the family to my grandma’s house today.
My dad had my auntie Paula, his big brother Darnell, and his little brother Keon. All their children would be in attendance as well. You had to know how scary and intimidating this was for me, but I was doing this for my dad.
Everyone’s cars were pulled into the driveway, so I had to park on the side of the house.
I grabbed my black Saint Laurent purse that was casually resting in the passenger seat.
I took one last look in the mirror, making sure that everything was in place.
It was a little chilly, so I opted on wearing a soft, powder blue turtleneck sweater.
It had that oversized look because I didn’t want a baby bump to come out and play in front of anyone, even though I wasn’t showing yet.
I chose to pair the turtleneck with black leather trousers, and they looked great on me because I had them tailored.
The black, pointed toe Saint Laurent boots went perfect with the look.
My long hair was pulled back into a low bun, and I only wore a little bit of make-up.
I only dressed up the way that I did because when I left here, I was meeting with a mid- wife about a possible home water birth.
It was the option that I wanted. See, back then, when I would psych myself, and say that I didn’t want children, I would always say that if by some chance that I did have one, I wanted it to be a home, water birth.
I wanted that intimate moment with my man.
I wanted something where I felt like I was in control.
I knew that I was drama filled, and I knew that labor, and delivery would be hard for me, so with that, I didn’t want to be at a hospital, filled with strangers, where I’m forced to keep my screams down.
I felt like being home, where I could control having a calm setting, would be the best route for me.
There are so many other reasons why I felt like the water birth was more fitting.
I had to put together a whole Canva presentation for my man last night and convince him why this option was better.
Tank wasn’t feeling the water birth option.
Even though he wasn’t, he was still hearing me, and being optimistic, and supporting coming with me today to meet the midwife.
When I asked him why he wasn’t feeling the idea, he truthfully told me that he was scared, and that he didn’t want anything to happen to me, or our baby.
He said that he felt more of a sense of security, knowing that I would deliver at the hospital.
That’s why we were meeting with the midwife though, so that she could rid him of all those fears.
I stepped out of the car, and I locked the doors behind me. I walked up the driveway, took the two steps up, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door.
I knocked. It took about two minutes, and then the doorknob turned, and it was my cousin, Mark standing there, and right in front of him was a baby that didn’t look any older than one years old, and he had the same face on him as Mark.
The baby was standing there in just his diaper, and when he saw me, he smiled.
My eyes left the baby, and they glanced up, looking at Mark.
Mark was a 38-year-old man, and where he was standing is where he lived.
No idea why he thought it was okay to still be living with his grandmother at his age, but hey, I guess that wasn’t any of my business.
“What? Mark, you had another baby? I didn’t know you had another son,” I released, my eyes not on my cousin anymore because they were too busy on the cute little boy that was in front of me.
Like he knew me, he was giggling, and he walked over to me, hugging at my leg. I bent down, so that I could pick him up, and hold him in my arms. This had to have been Mark’s 4th child, I want to say. Honestly, I’d lost count.
“Of course, you don’t know that I had another son. We don’t fit your aesthetic, so you don’t come around these parts,” he spat, with no sign of what he just said being a joke.
I groaned and rolled my eyes because I was barely in the house, and the shit was already starting.
“Here we go. Please don’t start that shit with me today,” I snapped at him.
“Shit, I’m just calling it like it is. I’m lying?” he asked, walking close on me, and I reached my hand out, that wasn’t holding onto the baby, so that I could push his ass back.
I just thanked God that when Tank asked me earlier if I needed him to come with me, that I told him I was a big girl, and could handle it on my own. If Mark would have gotten in my face like this while Tank was here, I know for a fact that Tank would have beat his ass for it.
I left Mark right there, while I stepped inside, and he closed the door behind me.
I followed where the noise and the smell of food being cooked was coming from, which was the kitchen.
The kitchen connected with the family room area, so when I walked in, that’s where everyone was.
I was still holding onto Mark’s son, and he was still clinging onto me like we were long lost friends.
When I walked in, all eyes turned to look at me, and I just wanted to blend in with the damn wall because I felt so intimated. I didn’t want all of them to gang up on me and do me the same way that Mark had just done me at the front door.
“That’s my grandbaby that just walked in here? Girllll, you know I got a bone to pick with you!” my grandma sassed me, just like I knew she would.
She had been standing in front of the stove, and she was frying something, but the second she saw me, she stopped what she was doing, so that she could walk over to me.
My grandmother was beautiful. She’s where my father inherited his rich, chocolate skin.
My dad looked just like her. Height is something that she’d passed down to him as well because my dad was tall, and I was tall as well.
She’s always been on the slimmer side, and even with all the soul food that I know she loves to cook, she still has been able to hold onto her slim frame over the years.
The long, fine hair that my dad had before prison was something else that he’d taken from his mom.
My grandma had long gorgeous hair, and right now, as she was in the kitchen, frying food, she had it styled in two pigtail braids, making her look Ethiopian.
It’s no wonder why my daddy was so handsome, and my features were so unique, and beautifully made because look what him, and I were a product of.
“Hey ma,” I cooed, calling her by the name that I’ve always called her since I was a little girl. Ma is what my daddy would always refer to her as, so it had stuck with me since a kid, and I would call her the same thing.
She had her arms out for me, so that I could hug her, and I did just that.
She rocked us as she hugged me, and no lie, I felt bad.
I missed out on coming to her 75th birthday party because my need to protect my peace and not wanting to be around my dad’s side of the family had me skipping out on it.
I was just waiting on the moment when she threw that up in my face too because I knew that it was coming.
“Look at you! Looking like a top model. I don’t know what Antoinette was thinking by not putting you in modeling, girl!
You get prettier every time that I see you.
You know I only get the pleasure of seeing your face maybe once a year.
Look at you, Dionne, and what’s this?” she asked, putting her hand on my stomach.
Mind you, you couldn’t even tell that I was pregnant. I looked at myself plenty of times in the mirror before I left the house today, and I asked Tank a few times if I looked pregnant, and he assured me that I didn’t.