Shameless Hoodwives: A Bentley Manor Tale by Meesha Mink; De'nesha Diamond

Author:Meesha Mink; De'nesha Diamond
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: African American Novel And Short Story, American Light Romantic Fiction, Atlanta (Ga.), Modern fiction, USA, Romance: Modern, Fiction - Romance, Contemporary, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), General, Romance, American - African American, American, Literary Criticism, African American women, English, General & Literary Fiction, Romance - Contemporary, African American, Inner cities, Fiction
ISBN: 9781416537540
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2008-08-05T05:00:00+00:00

Takiah

“I almost killed my baby.”

The horrible words tumble from my lips and spill onto my lap just like my tears of remorse. I try to remember all the details of that day, but I can’t. The only things that remain in my mind are how badly I needed a hit and how wonderful that first puff felt hitting my bloodstream.

Fuck. I’m a junkie and I’m not sure I want to quit…not even for my little girl.

Life at Grandma Cleo’s has yet to be the same. I’m no longer allowed to be home alone when Grandma has to run out for errands, and she throws one hell of fight to leave me alone with my own baby. Maybe I need to pack my shit and go somewhere else.

But where?

“How does that make you feel?” Pastor Meyer asks from behind his big expensive desk.

“How the fuck do you think it makes me feel?”

Pastor Meyer’s eyebrows shoot up so fast, it’s comical.

“Sorry,” I say, but I’m not really. If you ask a stupid question then you should be prepared for anything. But this behavior isn’t going to get me anywhere. The only way Grandma Cleo allows me to stay at her place now is because I agreed to have counseling sessions with Pastor Meyer.

Ain’t I lucky?

“Tell me about your husband?” he asks.

I laugh for a while, and when I realize he’s serious, I say, “Ain’t much to tell.”

“Where is he right now?”

“Where do you think he’s at?”

“Jail?”

“Not bad. One guess and you got it right. Too bad I don’t have a prize to give you.”

“Is this how you hide your pain—behind a wall of sarcasm?”

“Is this how you make your money—stating the obvious?”

He actually laughs.

“Look, Takiah. I’m not trying to waste your time and I’ll appreciate it if you don’t waste mine.” His pointed gaze sears mine. I shift uncomfortably on his expensive leather couch. Jesus apparently pays pretty damn good.

“Look.” I struggle for the right words. “Kameron is where he belongs.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he fucked up my life,” I shout, and then lower my voice. “Because he turned me into a junkie and a ho. I hope he rots there.”

The silence in Pastor Meyer’s office lasts so long I feel like we’re playing some kind of game. When I can’t stand it anymore, I continue. “Look, I’d done good. I lived eighteen years in Bentley Manor without ever developing a drug habit.”

His eyebrows did their little seesaw thing, but I pretty much ignore them.

“Sure, I pulled a few childish pranks. Stole a few candy bars or what have you. But I made it out, goddammit, and now I’m right back where I started from.” A sob tangles up on the last few words and I feel the threat of tears. “You don’t know what it’s like to take one step forward just to be dragged two steps back. Now I have to spend my life fightin’ against somethin’ I’m not strong enough to win.”

“Have you talked to God?”

My laugh is immediate.

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