Page 33 of Mahogany 2
After speaking to and spending a little time with Aubry and Honesty, I made my way down to the office.
“What’s going on, baby?” She asked, as soon as I closed the door to my office. Damn a bitch couldn’t even sit down. “I thought things were great over here.”
“They are,” I lied. “What you mean?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know what she was talking about, as I sat in a chair next to her.
My home office was set up completely different from the one at Couture. At home, I wanted to relax. Didn’t want to be so… business like. It doubled as a little haven. So, although I had a massive glass desk, there weren’t chairs seated in front of it for guests. I had a seating area with a chaise lounge I frequently used, two big high back chairs, a cute dainty coffee table and a twenty-four-inch TV on the wall. The color scheme was fuchsia, taupe, and white. Soft, and feminine like me.
“You know what I’m talking about. The house don’t look like it’s been clean in days, the kids doing whatever they want to do and…” She paused, pursed her lips together, and furrowed her brows like what she was about to say was so horrid. “You left your husband.”
I laughed. Not hysterically, but I giggled because come on now. Why the damn dramatics? My house had been cleaned. I didn’tjustrely on the cleaners. They did deep clean, I picked up here and there, swept, mopped, kept the house decent enough and the kids had chores. Sure, the stove needed a really good scrub down. The tile on the backsplash might’ve had a little spaghetti sauce on them, and yeah… the dishwasher probably did need to be filled but my house wasn’t nearly as bad as she acted like it was.
My kids were my kids, and I raised them the same way I’d been raising them since I had Sparkle. Without shackles on their feet. There was nothing new about the way I took care of them. They were breathing, weren’t they? Fed, with A’s B’s and C’s, and clothes on their backs. I’d say they were doing good enough. Myparents knew that. She was very well aware of how we raised our children. The only thing that had to come as a surprise was me disappearing for a few. Since everybody thought Duke and I had this picture-perfect marriage.
I didn’tleavehis ass though.
“You so dramatic,” I said with a light laugh. “The house is okay. I work a lot of hours?—”
“Hours you don’t have to work. You have little bitty kids and?—”
“Hours Ichooseto work because I love what I do. Little bitty kids that are very well taken care of. They alive, respectful, and do good enough in school. I don’t have to breathe down their necks, ma. And I didn’tleavemy husband. I took a day to myself. I’m good. I don’t need you worrying about me.”
She wasn’treallyworried. If she was, she would have had a little consideration for me just leaving therapy. She would have treaded lightly and treated me like someone who was already emotionally drained. Especially since she knew something was up. There was no compassion in her tone. Just… judgment and I was very uncomfortable. I didn’t like this. All of my mess just… out in the open, on the table for her to pick through. I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself for that though. I broke. Not just mentally, and emotionally. I broke character. The façade deteriorated a little bit. Now, I had to find another one. One that said I go through shit, but I hold it together just fine.
However, it wouldn’t be a façade. It would be the truth and to be honest even though I felt raw and exposed… living in my true identity would be a lot easier than wearing a mask every time I was around family. Well… it should’ve been easier. For someone like me who really wanted that picture perfect life to be reality, it was harder than it should’ve been. People knew now and that… it made me uneasy.
“You don’t look good. You seem stressed. Losin’ too much weight too,” she said, sizing me up. “You know you can tell me anything right?”
Losing too much weight? Damn, she was chewing me up, wasn’t she? I did lose a little but that was alright because I had a lot to give. I wasn’t the biggest, but I did weigh about one-eighty. Damn near two hundred on me at 5’6 was thick, but I could stand to lose about ten, fifteen more.
“Mmhmm,” I mumbled.
No, the fuck I couldn’t tell her everything. Evelyn couldn’t see past a perspective other than her own. I could literally tell her the truth… about everything and she’d come at me with some religious bullshit I didn’t want to hear. Religious bullshit I knew was sitting on the tip of her tongue. You see how she told me to go to God instead of therapy? Yeah… I didn’t want to hear any more of that shit.
I didn’t have anything against religion… no, let me not lie. I did. Religion to me, was control. People used it as a weapon. And while everyone was different, all of my life it had been used as a weapon against me. The church had never been fair, understanding, or good to me. When I was pregnant with Aubry, the church treated me like shit. Pastor, bishops, entire congregation. Momma included. The only member that treated me like they loved me was my daddy.
Every Sunday, for as long as I could, I strolled up in that church wearing dresses that were two sizes too big to hide the ‘blessing’ God gave me. That was what she called it. My momma. When she found out, she fussed at me, called me sneaky, fast and just about everything but a child of God. But she called the baby a blessing regardless of how it came about.
It was a blessing alright. A blessing we kept hidden from the church until I was six months and too big to hide it in a way that didn’t look obvious. You think she hid the baby for me? Hell no.She hid it for herself. Didn’t want the congregation to know she’d raised a ‘heathen’. She didn’t say that, but she didn’t have to. She was ashamed. And although my mother being ashamed of me, broke my heart, I was ashamed of myself too, so I went along with it.
When they found out I was pregnant, I got all kinds of looks, and heard more rumors about myself there, than at school. The preacher seemed to center his sermons around sin and premarital sex and everything. It was a very rough time for me. You think she let me sit out of church on the Sunday’s that followed? Hell no. She made me go anyway, with the looks, whispers, and rumors. The only piece of guidance she had for me then was ‘they talked about Jesus Christ’. As if that was supposed to make me feel better. So nah, me and religion didn’t get along. At all.
“So, what’s goin on NeNe? Talk to me. Tell me why my daughter canceled her birthday party. Tell me why my daughter thought leaving her husband was the right thing to do.”
I squinted. “Like I said, I didn’tleavemy husband.”
“You did leave ‘em. You don’t spend the night out without him. Ain’t nobody know where you were at. You are a mother Mahogany Mills-Morris. You can’t be leavin, disappearing. Doing only God knows what. I pray to the Lord you weren’t out there desecrating your marriage.”
I stared at her with a flat expression. Nobody knew where I was at… my sisters knew! They didn’t tell her. Didn’t tell anybody. Out desecrating my marriage. Mmm.. not that time! I wanted to go off on her so bad but knocking on the door stopped me from doing it.
Knock, knock, knock.
As if he knew the topic of desecrating a marriage had been brought up, Duke opened the door and stuck his head in. I looked at him, with dipped brows, wishing he could save me.I wanted to run to him. He was my safe space when I was up against anything that made me uncomfortable when it wasn’t him.
Walking in, Duke immediately came over to me, leaned down and kiss me on the cheek. “My bad, I just wanted to let you know I was home,” He said, before kissing me on the other. “I already gave the kids they food. I’m about to hop in the shower really quick so we can go and get ours.”
I was grateful for the space we were in. Happy I’d decided to throw in the white flag this morning. Yes, I know… Chanté had just said what she said but still. If there was anything I needed right now it was support, and who better to get that from than my husband?
“Fast food?” said my momma, with a light laugh, butting in on shit that had nothing to do with her, once again. “You ain’t cooking NeNe?”
