Hand-me-down Heartache by Tajuana Butler

Author:Tajuana Butler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781588361073
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2001-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Thirteen

I was thrilled to get the job at KATL. I would be a location reporter, going to sports bars and speaking with the locals about major games and other sports-related issues. The pay wasn’t great, but I knew that with time and persistence I would prove myself and work my way up to sports anchor.

I immediately sent a thank-you note to Cindy. I knew she would be happy for me, and I used her own advice: “The best way to show gratitude is in writing.” I couldn’t wait to share the news with my parents, especially my father. But I kept it a secret until I went to their house for Sunday dinner.

I used my key to let myself in and walked through the living room. From the back door I saw an unusual sight: my mom and dad sitting together and talking outside on the deck. I could smell the smoke coming off the grill, and my mouth began to water. Mom had told me earlier over the phone that they would be grilling steaks, ribs, and salmon. I couldn’t wait to chow down. And my parents’ cookouts weren’t complete without potato salad, coleslaw, green beans, baked beans, seven-layer salad, and freshly squeezed lemonade.

My mom jumped up when I tapped on the back door. “Nina, come on out,” she said.

I joined them outside, and noticed that my dad’s face was pale and blank.

“Hey, baby, how are you doing?” Mom said, and we hugged.

“Hey, Daddy,” I said.

“Hi, Nina,” he replied weakly. He looked like he was in a trance.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine, just fine,” he replied. “So, how’s Maurice? I caught the game last night, and he’s definitely earning his pay.”

“Daddy, we broke up!” I said irritably. Mom had said she’d told him about our breakup, and I couldn’t believe how insensitive he was to even bring up Maurice’s name.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he said, the glazed look still in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t mind your daddy,” Mom interjected. “You know he’s got a lot on his mind. Nina, come and taste the seven-layer salad, and wait till you see what I made for dessert.”

She put her arm around my shoulder and led me toward the door. “Smitty, everything’s going to be just fine,” she said, and walked in behind me.

“What’s going on, Momma?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing really. Your daddy and I were just having a talk.”

“About what?”

“Well, Nina, it’s personal stuff between us, nothing you need to worry about,” she said, then added, “Trust me, everything is fine.”

She was putting on her usual “pretend that our family has no problems” act. As much as I loved my mom, I envied Janelle’s relationship with her mother—there was nothing they didn’t talk about. My mom didn’t even prepare me for the start of my menstrual cycle. I had to find out the hard way—coming home from school one day and finding blood in my underwear. Frightened that I was going to bleed to death, I laid several towels over my sheets, crawled into bed, and cried myself to sleep that night.

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