“She’s not going to be jacked up,” Tahiry said. “She’s gonna be dead.”
“You’re gonna die, Mommy?” Marcus asked in horror.
“Of course not, son.”
“If she doesn’t stop smoking, she will.” Tahiry shrugged nonchalantly. Did I mention I couldn’t stand my daughter?
“My dad quit smoking and got run over by a Mack truck,” I said, grabbing my pack of Virginia Slims and making my way out onto our back deck.
“Why are you telling your kids that?” Felise said on the phone. “You know your dad died in a regular car accident.”
I plopped down on a patio chair. “Regardless, he’d stopped smoking and he died anyway.”
I didn’t start smoking until I had kids. I knew it was a nasty habit, and my husband, Steven, hated it. But I needed something to take the edge off, and since I wasn’t much of a drinker, I medicate with cigarettes.
“What’s up? What are you doing?” Felise said. “I was hoping I could come scoop you up and we could go have a drink or something.” She sounded distressed, but as much as I would’ve loved to have spent the evening catching up with her over drinks, that was no longer my reality.
“Girl, please. Steven is gone. As usual. So I’m stuck at home with the kids. Their behinds need to be in the bed, but I just don’t have the strength to fight with them. I hate summers.” I lit my cigarette and took a long inhale. The smoke immediately began relaxing my nerves.
“Isn’t your mom there?”
I blew out a puff of smoke. “Yeah, but she’s about to go play bingo. Besides, I wouldn’t be good company. I’m in a foul mood.”
“Which is exactly why you need to get out. I’m in a foul mood, too, and I need to vent.”
“About what?” I didn’t give her time to answer before adding, “Why are you going to have a drink anyway? Isn’t today your anniversary?”
“That’s what I need to talk about.”
Suddenly, the patio door opened, and Tahiry stepped out. “Mom, you might want to get in here. The boys are having a water gun fight in your living room.”
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” I screamed. “Felise, I’m sorry, you’ll have to tell me what’s going on later. I have yet another catastrophe to go deal with. Call you later.”
I hung up the phone. I couldn’t even hold a freakin’ conversation with my best friend. That’s how messed up my life was.
I took a quick last puff of my cigarette, tossed it down, and hurried back inside. I immediately told myself to follow my therapist’s advice and use my “calm” voice.
“Stevie, Marcus, and Mason,” I began, “please don’t jump on the sofa and shoot water guns in my house.” They looked at me for barely a moment, and then Mason sprayed Marcus as they took off running.
See? I don’t know what kind of school my therapist went to or what kind of kids she was used to dealing with, but that calm mess didn’t work on my kids. I wanted to whip their behinds—like my mom used to do me—but Steven didn’t believe in spankings. To me, that was part of the reason our kids were out of control.
“If y’all don’t stop it right now!” I screamed. That got the reaction I had been looking for, and everyone came to a halt. “Go to bed! Don’t play with any toys, just put on your pajamas and get in the bed!”
They sulked as they walked off. Tahiry, who was still texting away on her phone, didn’t bother looking up as she said, “You should have stopped having kids at me.”
I wanted to tell her I should’ve never started with her. But since that’s not something I’d ever verbalize to my children, I kept quiet.
Things had so not turned out like I planned. By college I’d shed those domestic dreams of childhood. I was going to be a big-time actress. I’d even dropped out of Howard University my junior year to pursue my dream. But after a couple of commercials, that dream had died really quick, and before I knew it, I was working in retail. I still got bit parts here and there, but nothing to consider a real acting career. Then, Felise, who had been my best friend since ninth grade, had introduced me to Steven when he’d moved to DC to go to Georgetown Law. Before I knew it, we were in deep. Tahiry was conceived two months after we started dating. Steven did the honorable thing and married me, and the course of my life was rewritten.
While I wouldn’t say Steven had pressured me into marriage, it’s not something I just had to do. But heaven forbid the esteemed son of Texas judge Walter Wright have a child out of wedlock. Not to mention the pressure from my family. Everyone made me feel so guilty that I felt that I had no choice but to get married. And although I’d learned to love my life, I now felt trapped. And resentful. On top of that, Steven worked so much. He was one of the most sought-after criminal defense attorneys in Texas. I was a stay-at-home mom, and I didn’t want to be. My passion was the theater. Just last month I’d been offered a role in a local stage play by an old director I used to work with. But they were planning to go on tour, and I couldn’t very well abandon my kids and go traipsing around the country with some play.