Chevon
A.
Taylor
–
Chevon
A.
Taylor TAYLOR, CHEVON, A., of West Palm Springs, FL on Friday, April 26, 2005. Loving daughter of
the
late
Thomas
Lanigan
and
Elise
(Brickman), Dear wife of the late Bryce L. Taylor. Dear sister of Jada Witterson, survived
by niece Chole Witterson, nephews, Zachary and Christopher Witterson, and numerous cousins. Relatives & friends are invited to attend the funeral from McLAUGHLIN FUNERAL HOME, 198 Dumont Ave., West Palm Springs, FL on Wednesday April 30, 2005 at 9:30 am. Funeral services will be held at: St. Joseph's Church at 10:30 am. Interment, Holy Cross Cemetery. Visitation Tuesday 2-4 & 7-9 PM. Parking opposite funeral home.
Chapter One
“I never realized how important it was to write in a journal.
I would
always see my grandmother writing in this beautiful book that felt like peach fuzz. I remember trying to sneak up on her to read what she jotted down but each time I got close, she would just move away or tell me to take my behind somewhere and sit down. I remember seeing my mother with the same intense look on her face, writing in a journal that had a textured feel, and was gorgeous and full of her deepest untold secrets I’m sure. Here I am today, writing in my journal I like to call my diary. It’s sad though that I started at a time when my life is at a turning point. I wished I would have started earlier for it would have included so many great times, it would have made a princess envy me. I would like to start my story with today. I went to my favorite spa and got the massage of my life. I say that every week. Jenny is the best at what she does. So tender where she needs to be and rough where I need it. Wednesday afternoons, I just love Wednesday afternoons at Chi Chi’s salon, my absolute favorite in the world. Next, lunch with Marcia, by then Carmen should be finished with cleaning my four bedroom, three bathroom two Jacuzzi fenced in paradise me and my husband Bryce calls home. He is a successful Senior Vice President at Aaron Brothers, the most
prestigious financial company in the United States. Me, oh beautiful me, skin, light, soft 35 years young, hair straight, long silky and all mine. Legs for days, eyes hazel, lips, perfect of course. Me, my profession, is to stay at home, keep myself beautiful, fit and finally to keep my man looking good for his company, his boys, and yes for me. Don’t get confused, I work very hard, please take a minute to review my weekly schedule before we go any further. Monday- 1-hour yoga session, 2 hours with Jason, my personal trainer, and then I have to choose what Carmen will cook for dinner. Tuesday – Lunch with my great husband Bryce, this usually requires me to get out of bed an entire 1 hour earlier.
Traffic could be rough in
Florida. 2 hours with Jason and then choosing what Carmen will cook for dinner. Wednesday - 2 hours at the spa, 1 ½ lunch with Marcia, 2 hours training with Jason, and then off to choose the dinner that Carmen will prepare. Thursday – Shopping at Vigels department store, Thursdays are “Private Sale” day. This usually consumes most of the day, then I must rush home to choose dinner for my husband and I specially prepared by Carmen. Friday – hair, manicure, and pedicure time, the weekend is approaching must look right. This is also the day I have the task of taking inventory of the food we need for the following weeks’ dinner. Saturday & Sundays is Showtime! Bryce usually wants or needs his friends over for one reason or another.
He is a very good man; However my mother and sister sometimes misunderstand him. They think of him as somewhat of a flirt, I think of him as just a smart businessman. He was so smart in college; he didn’t even have to apply for his job.
His college professors highly
recommended him. This resulted in a guaranteed job upon graduation.
Chapter Two Bryce
moved up the corporate ladder fast, never stumbling, never
missing a beat. I am so lucky to have him. He is sexy, a chocolate man, proud to be black and bald with a clean and shiny head. Broad shoulders and hung like a stallion. My man, that’s him, good, bad for better or worse. We’ve been together for a total of 20 years, he is my first love. We met while I was a freshman in high school. One look at him and I was hooked. I knew my mission in life was to become his wife, to support him, and to love and honor him. We used to sneak and date until my parents found out. When they did, my father sat him down for “the talk”.
You know the one, the one to find out his intentions. He was
seventeen, a senior, and on his way to college. My father, the ultimate man wanted to make sure his baby wasn’t going to be nobody’s fool. Bryce assured him that he would take care of me, that I was his sweetheart. He promised my father he would always love and protect me.
As soon as I graduated from high school, Bryce and I married in a beautiful small wedding on the beach. He convinced me not to attend college. He told me of his plans to become a big time executive, and that
type of man needed a strong and dedicated woman standing by his side. With all the studying I helped this man with I should have had a degree. Plenty of times we would stay up until it were time for his first class. Yes indeed, I stood by my darling through under graduate and graduate school. Through junior training, and then finally Senior Vice President, his success, was my success.
It is a rarity at his company for a young man to be sitting in his spot, especially a black one. He is sitting on top of the world, and me? I’m sitting right next to him, side by side, loving my man, supporting him, like I always wanted to do.
Chapter Three Although my mother and older sister say time and time again that the man I love with my heart and soul is a flirting machine, I truly adore him. I know he does what he does to keep us living in the manner we have grown accustomed to. I understand him. That is my job.
Last month, I had to explain that to my dear mother and sister Jada. They seemed somewhat disturbed that Bryce had one of his co-workers over. She looked alright, nothing compared to me of course. They seemed to think he paid too much attention to her, I didn’t mind.
I
helped him cater to her. She wanted steak, I got it. It was a bit too pink for her; I brought it back to the cook to correct it, and made sure her glass was never empty. I couldn’t have her going back to work talking about us, could I? He did charm his way through life, and that was fine with me. He did what he did best. My husband stood by her side for most of the party, and he made sure she didn’t get lonely even though we had at least 50 other guests. He sat at the pool with her, and brushed back her hair. At times rubbing her face as he told her jokes evidently she thought was funny. I could hear her giggle halfway across the court. I was so proud of the way he took care of his co-worker, and friend. He
made sure he made an impression she would be sure to remember and share. As for my mother and Jada, they stood in amazement how supportive I was of my husbands’ actions. I understand him, and I love that man, sweet and brown in all his glory. When the party was over, she stayed a little later to help clean, but I insisted she and Bryce relax awhile. I had hired help for such tasks. I retired to my bedroom for a pleasant nights rest. I was satisfied that all had a great time, and the party will be talked about for weeks. “What did my mother know?” I thought to myself. She and my father had a similar love story. She stood by him through college and law school, gave up her singing career to birth and raised two beautiful girls.
My parents had been married for forty years, until my dad suffered a heart attack 5 years ago. His death wasn’t a surprise to anyone. My father worked day and night, 365 days a year, 24 hours a day. When he was home, he hid in his office, sneaking business calls. My father was as dedicated to his profession as I am to mine. My mother still hasn’t gotten used to him not being there. Although she rarely saw him, she always knew he would eventually come home. Jada, my older sister, by only 1 year, one would think we were years apart. She has been married
eighteen years, mother of three and loving it. She is more than happy to be the director of a youth crisis center, and the wife of a postal supervisor. Oh my gosh! We are worlds apart.
Bryce and me, had a bunch of fun trying to have children, but for reasons beyond my control, it never happened. I always imagined what our children would look like. I know they would be simply beautiful, and all would just eat them up.
Where me and sisters lifestyles were different, we were extremely close growing up. I loved her to pieces. She was my best friend. I know at times she misunderstands my baby, but she would never bad mouth him. She listens to my concerns without saying one single mean word. Most of them are just how to love him more. Bryce treats me like a Queen. He sends me to our home in the Bahamas for three weeks every summer, he gives me free range of our home and encourages me to decorate in any manner I wish. I just adore him, and he adores me. How could he not?
Chapter Four Yesterday my sweetie made a move I wasn’t so sure of. Usually he and I are on the same page. This time though, I was stumped. I went to his office. I wanted to surprise him. I stopped by his assistants’ desk and asked her to let him know that I was outside. I would never just walk in, I know he is a busy man.
Most of the time he doesn’t mind me stopping in, but yesterday he told her to tell me he was in a meeting and he would see me at home. I stood there, lunch in hand and confused, I smiled and walked away leaving the lunch just in case he got hungry. I did this making sure to thank her. I would not want her to tell him I was rude.
When he came home I was tired, but thought I would ask whom he was meeting with. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss it, so I didn’t push. I knew he had a long day at work and didn’t want to stress him about something so unimportant. Taking care of us was hard work. I knew the best thing for that man at that time was rest.
I woke up to the sound of him yelling on the phone and jumped out of bed.
If I wasn’t going to bother him, neither was someone else, I
thought. He was surprised to see me; I could tell by the way he waved his hand, signaling me to go back upstairs. “My poor baby”, I said. He looked so engulfed in his conversation.
I turned around and went
upstairs and closed the door. I didn’t want to hear him being upset; besides he needed his privacy.
The next morning he was up and out of the house before I woke up. My mission that day was to bring him something extra special to work. I started by sending him a dozen of roses. Yes, men appreciate roses too. I even made the phone call to order them myself. I had Carmen pack his favorite goodies in a picnic basket and by 1:30pm, I was on my way to his office. I hummed to the music blaring from my brand new Jaguar S type. I was good to go. Lisa, Bryce’s assistant had a look of surprise on her face. Damn, I know I look good, but didn’t her mother ever tell her that staring was rude? “Hi, Mrs. Taylor” I heard her whisper. “Everything alright?” she asked. “Sure” I responded. “Why do you ask?” Now I’m curious. Didn’t I look fine? I thought.
“You’re here.” “Mr. Taylor is not in today.” “He called and said that he would be working from home today.” “Oh, I must have forgotten.” What else could I say? I didn’t have any knowledge of that, but I wouldn’t reveal that to her. I was so shocked, I can’t even remember walking out of the office building, but I know I did. I was now in my house, sitting on my couch and, calling my husbands’ cell phone. It was now 3pm, where could he be? I must have called him at least a hundred times.
Finally, at 5 o’clock I heard the side door open, it was Bryce. I couldn’t help but leap off the couch, in his face, and hug him. I couldn’t help how worried I was. I knew there was some reasonable explanation as to why he wasn’t at work, why Lisa told me he was working from home, and why he wasn’t answering his cell phone.
He wasn’t in the explaining mood though. The shower was his sanctuary at that time, and the bed came in second place. I would have to wait for the details of his day, and patiently I would wait. When he awoke from his nap, I laid down next to him, and cuddled with my man, happy to have him home for the rest of the evening.
Denise E. Miller
New Jersey Denise E. Miller, 32, of 132 Pine Ave., died Wednesday, June 7, 2005. The funeral will be at 11 a.m. Friday at St. Johns Baptist Church. Visitation will be 7-9 p.m. today at the funeral home. Smith & Sons Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements. She is survived by no one.
Chapter One I can’t believe I’m writing in this book.
I feel like a little girl writing
secrets in her diary. I make jokes, but sometimes it feels good to say how I feel on paper and then be able to put the book down. When you tell your girlfriends your secrets they either throw it back in your face or talk about you behind your back. I know when I have something to say; I could just write in this book and be done with it. Sometimes, I go back and read the things I wrote and say, damn, I was feeling like that and laugh. Now I sit and record everything in my “diary”.
Chapter Two “Ma, Aaron is in my room!” “Get out stinky!” Kisha yelled as she pushed my 4-year-old son out of her room. She is a typical teenaged girl who needs every bit of her privacy, even demanding it at times. I am a 31 year old mother of five, making it happen in a three bedroom apartment at the Joe Lewis housing complex, short and to the point, the projects. So what! My kids have a roof over their heads, and my house was clean as a whistle. I didn’t play that roach business. My son Kevin Jr., thirteen, who is as cute as they come, with big dark circles he uses as eyes. One look into them and those long eyelashes will hypnotize you. He is sure to break some hearts with those things. I guess that is how his daddy convinced me to have another baby with his sorry ass. Just nine months after the first. Well, I have to say I learned my lesson and moved on to loser number two. Our gifts were Devon who is eleven, and into anything that is related to science. He already says he is going to find a cure for cancer when he grows up. I wish him well on his journey, hell at times; I have a hard time understanding his 7th grade science books. Then there is Tonisha, my star, she’s ten years old, singing and dancing better than Ashanti, Janet Jackson and Beyoncé, all put together. That girl got it going on.
She enters every talent show in our area and wins prizes from a Burger King gift certificate to one time $100 in cash! We all had a party with that money. She treated us all to the movies, and pizza. I’ll tell you, me and Tonisha and Devon’s father was like water and oil, but we made some smart and talented kids. He loved his drugs and street life too much for my liking so I had to let him go.
My education only went up to the 10th grade. I plan to go back and finish one day. One day that I don’t have to work two jobs and don’t have to keep running to the welfare office in order to keep the $98 worth of food stamps coming in every month. Now Mr. Man, Aaron, my baby boy is just that. He is pure sugar; his daddy is my prince charming, Craig. We’ve been together for five years, now that’s my boo! My girlfriend Angie introduced us when he was doing a bid with her man at Bayou State Prison. He was there on a simple assault and drug charge.
I was convinced he had learned his lesson, did his time, and was a changed man. Who was I to judge? I allowed him to be paroled to my place, and all was good in the hood. Craig got a job with his uncle at a linen factory, and I worked in the Laundromat on the corner Monday through Friday, plus watched old man George on the weekends. He was
a man that I grew up with who got shot in the head years ago. People said if they removed the bullet he would have died. He needed someone to care for him, and I jumped on the job, hell; it paid $80 for the whole weekend. Me and Craig did a good job taking care of the kids, he had three of his own by two women, one of them I knew, Krystal, she was no problem at all. She let his daughter Samia come to my house anytime we asked. The other girl was somebody on the other side of town, she didn’t bother us, and we didn’t call her.
Chapter Three
That morning Kisha was extra fussy with Aaron, it was picture day at school, and we had been up all night trying to get her hair just right. I guess when she woke up, she still wasn’t feeling it, and was trying to do something with it. “Oh Boy” I said as I stretched, got out of bed, and headed for the girls room. “Good thing it’s my day off” I said as I stood behind her, curling her hair. We looked in the mirror together until we got a style that made her smile. “Thanks Ma” she said and patted her new do. “You’re welcome Kisha” I mumbled as I headed back to my bedroom. Craig was already gone for work. I had the bed to myself, so I thought. Aaron had jumped in it while I was attending to Kisha. At first I pretended not see him, whispering his name as if I were looking for him. Suddenly he peeped through my comforter. I still continued to call his name. “Mommy…I’m right here” I heard his small voice say.
I called him once more. This time, he jumped in my face, and kissed me on the cheek. “Oh there you are!” I told him, as I tickled his side. While I played with my youngest son, my middleman came in reminding me to sign last night’s homework. I pinched his cheek, and he was off for school. I grabbed Aaron, and reminded him that it was my day off, not his and he would still be going to school. He whined, but went along with the program and allowed me to dress him.
“Yes” I sighed as I planted myself back in the bed after seeing everyone off to school. My days off were a good thing. Even though I pretended that the kids got on my nerves, I loved spending that little bit of morning time with them.
My children were my life. I lost my mother two years ago. I have one sister, but she was so out there, strung out on drugs, I couldn’t reach her if I wanted to. I know I have a brother somewhere on my fathers’ side, but finding him was almost impossible since, my fathers’ whereabouts were unknown. Having a family at an early age was hard as I don’t know what, but they made it all worth it.
Working at the Laundromat meant I had to be out of the house by 4:30am to clean and open it by 6:00. Craig played Mr. Mom in the mornings while I made it to work on time. He needed to be at the factory at 7:00 so it all worked out. “Where is the remote?” I said to myself. Going back to sleep just wasn’t going to happen. I might as well see what is up with junk TV. “Oh please!” I said as I flipped through the channels, same shit different day. “Let me call Angie” I said. I knew she was awake. What else did she have to do? I thought as I dialed her number. “Hello” she said. “What’s up?” I asked. “Nothing” she said as she smacked on her breakfast.
Angie had three kids and lived alone with them on the 13th floor in the apartment directly under mine. She was as wild as they came, but I loved her to death. Angie asked what I was doing and suggested that I come downstairs to talk. She hated talking on the phone. She was too cheap, no too broke to have a two-way. She was always waiting for her boyfriend “Black” to call from the Penn. I told her I would be down there, and hung up. I took a shower and headed on my way. Low and behold, I made the mistake of running into Lenore.
She was the
buildings gossip queen, who just had to live next door to me. She made me so damn sick sometimes. I couldn’t go nowhere or come in without her asking me at least a thousand questions. The only reason I answered them was because she was so nosey that if somebody ever tried to break in my house, she would tell it. “Hey Lenore!” I said to her as I slowed down to get the third degree. “Hey Girl!” she said waving. “Where you going so early?” She asked. “Downstairs to Angie’s”, I told her as I took one step forward, really not trying to go nowhere. “Oh, Girl, you know Miss Jeanette’s lights got cut off again?” she said trying to whisper. “What!” I said acting surprised. I already knew, I’m saying, who didn’t? You could see the extension cord going from Miss Jeanette’s apartment to Benji’s who lived next door to her. “Girl!” she continued “She’d better get it together” I told her, as I took another step forward. “Oh well, let me get downstairs” I told her and walked away. “O.k.” Lenore shouted. For some reason that I will never know, Angie always kept her door opened, but I still knocked. When I walked in, she was in her favorite
spot in front of the TV, with something to eat in her face. Her baby Mercedes was running around dressed in only a pamper. Angie was so lazy, just getting her baby dressed was a chore. I knew this, but still she was funny as hell, and good to her children to a certain degree. She always tried to get me to go clubbing with her, but with five kids and a good man, that wasn’t going to happen. I’d rather live through her. Her stories were so detailed, I always felt as if I were there anyway. I sat downstairs with her most of the day until she got the phone call she was waiting for. I could tell it was Black by the big smile that came on her face, and started my trip back upstairs. As usual the elevator was broke so I had to make the stink walk up the one flight to my apartment. On my way up the second set of stairs, I saw Craig talking to his friend Owen. I was shocked as hell, because he shouldn’t be home for another three hours. As I walked toward the two, I could tell that whatever they were talking about must have been important, they were all in each others faces and their heads and hands was flying all over the place. I wanted to stand there and try to listen, but the fact that he was even home struck a nerve in me, I had to interrupt. “What’s up?” I said to Craig, as I walked to the corner where they stood. “Hey Ma!” he said loudly.
He too was now surprised. Owen stood nearby, simply and quietly saying “Hey” “What’s up, what you doing home?”
I asked, half upset thinking
something was wrong, half thinking he was up to no good. “Richie sent me home!” he yelled. “Me and him got into an argument because I came back five minutes late from my break!” he said yelling louder. Craig and his boss were always arguing. If it wasn’t for his uncle, my boo would have been fired a long time ago. I continued to stand there as he ranted and raved about this guy, I knew he hated. The story was always the same so I started walking again. “Whatcha’ cooking?” he yelled behind me. “Chicken and rice” I told him as he and Owen’s voices faded behind me. I looked at the clock; it was 3:15. “Shit” I said to myself. It was time for the kids to start coming home, and I had done nothing all day. I quickly grabbed the chicken out of the refrigerator, pulled out my giant frying pan, and a pot for my rice. I had to get this food at least started by time my precious babies came barging in like savage animals. Kisha was always the first to appear with Aaron. Even though they fought like crazy, she was like a second mother to him.
Then there were three, Devon, Tonisha, and Kevin Jr., debating about what was going on at their school. I spent the rest of the night listening to why my kids’ friends thought I was their sister, frying what seemed like a hundred pieces of chicken and breaking up at least twenty fights every fifteen minutes.
I guess Craig lost his way home because it was 8:00pm before I saw him again. I figured he was stressing about facing Richie the next day. I let him take his shower and go to bed in peace. Craig was a good man that just made bad choices. I wanted to be there for him, to give him that second chance he deserved. I decided to take it down for the night, while I kept reminding my kids to stop playing and to go to bed.
The next morning was business as usual for me. Thank God I always laid out clothes for my younger kids the night before. I can’t trust Craig or Kisha to even put a matching pair of socks on Aaron.
I never had dirty clothes; I always bought them to work with me, and washed them while I watched our customers pay to wash theirs. On my way up the street I saw Owen standing outside. I wasn’t exactly a morning person, and mumbled, “Hey Owen” I wondered for a minute
where he was heading, but of course didn’t ask. Owen was Craig’s best friend. Why? I wasn’t sure. There was a rumor some time back that he was an undercover queen, shit he looked all man to me and for my man to be hanging around him, that rumor must be just that, a rumor.
I did my regular sweeping and shining the windows of the dryers and washing machines. I’m glad that Rhonda works on my day off. She is just as clean as I am, so when I get back to work I don’t have much cleaning to do. I started putting the clothes in the machine and did my search for paper clips, chewing gum, lose change, maybe even a $50 bill, a bill that I knew I would never find. I searched through all the kids’ pockets, all clear. Ok, now for that $50 bill in Craig’s pocket. I felt paper rumbling, ok maybe a dollar bill. No, it was a balled up piece of paper. I looked at the paper but didn’t think to flatten it out. I just put in my apron, finished loading the machine and opened the Laundromat. Miss Addy always came in on Thursdays, coffee in one hand, and her two load bag in the shopping cart. She was always trying to get me to go to church with her. I promised that I would go, but never did. Sunday would come, and the gospel music channel on the radio followed. That was the most church I got for the week.
Even though I had been
promising to go with her for five years, she never ever mentioned the lack of me fulfilling it.
She was a sweet old lady that had two grown children who never visited her. I think because they thought they were too good to come on this side of town. Her daughter was a secretary for a lawyer, and her son was some big wig downtown at a bank. Anyway, what they had didn’t matter, they surely wasn’t sharing it with their mother. I always saw her doing her own shopping, walking up and down the street, pushing her cart. I started sending Kevin Jr. and Devon over to her apartment at least three times a week to check on her. Her hearing and vision was starting to fail her, and I wanted to make sure she was doing fine. She was the neighborhood Grand-mother figure, and we all loved her. I sat with Miss Addy and listened to her stories, they were always the same, but I pretended to be hearing them for the first time. She got a kick out of my boys, and always referred to them as baby number one and baby number two, I could never tell which one she was talking about, but still I listened.
While she talked I made sure to put her clothes in the dryer and slipped her quarters back in her bag when I thought she wasn’t looking. I didn’t
worry about my clothes while Miss Addy was there, I would be there for another nine hours with nothing to do but watch my talk shows on the fuzzy TV that was smack dead in the middle of the Laundromat.
After Miss Addy left, I took my clothes out of the washer and started to sing as I placed the clothes in the dryer. I remembered that crumbled piece of paper in my apron. I now couldn’t wait to sit down and read it. It was 10 am. I should not have seen Owen and Craig walking by, but I did. I rushed to the door, but when I got there, they were further up the street.
I stuck my head out the door and called out to Craig, but he
didn’t hear me. I was trying not to get mad, without knowing for sure why his ass was not at work. I wanted to believe he was going in late, but I knew that was not the case. “I’ll deal with him tonight” I said to myself, and sat down to read what was on the paper. It read:
Dear Craig, I miss you baby, shit is not the same without you. Ke Ke said she saw you yesterday and you were looking good as hell. You better not be giving my sweets away. I know you have to do what you have to do, but you know what’s up when I get back. Thanks for sending me that money.
All these bitches are cold hating on me, cause they know you still loving me. That’s what’s up! I love you Baby. Love EE…. “Oh hell no!” I yelled. “Oh No!” “Who the hell is EE?” I rushed over to the payphone, and tried calling my house, no answer of course. For the next few hours, my heart beat so hard I thought it would jump right out of my chest. I paced the floor of the Laundromat, and tried to think of every person name I knew that started with an E. I read the letter over and over looking for clues. “Who was this person he was sending my money to?” That check of his that came in every week belongs in my house! What nerve this man had sending it to some chick. Who the hell is Ke Ke? Oh do I have words for him! Since I couldn’t get in touch with my man, I had to call Angie. I knew she would be home. As soon as she answered the phone, I gave into my rage. “Girl!” I screamed into the phone.
“This man of mine messed up, Angie he really did it this time.” I told her. “What?” she said calmly. I could tell by her tone she thought this was an average fight. “Angie, I found a letter in Craig’s pants pocket, a letter from some trick” I continued. “What?” she said as she now got into the story. I noticed she had even turned her TV down to hear me better. “What did it say Niece?” she questioned. “Some girl, talking about she loves him, and he sends her money.” “Angie this asshole is sending some girl money!” I told her, still screaming in the phone. “No he didn’t” she said. This was the first time I had gone through this with Craig, he never gave me any reason to worry that he was cheating. “Angie do you know anybody named Ke Ke?” I asked. Me and Angie knew everybody in our building, including everybody in our neighborhood, or so I thought. “No, I don’t know no Ke Ke” she said “Who she be with Niece?” she asked. “Girl, I don’t know!” I said to her as I felt myself getting mad again.
“This bitch said Ke Ke is giving her updates on Craig!” “I don’t know no Ke Ke” she told me again. “But I saw Craig earlier” she started. “Him and Owen was standing downstairs in front of Cooley’s” she told me. “Why he ain’t at work?” she asked. “I don’t know” I told her. “But I will find out.
If he got fired, he’d
better find some place to go, cause’ I ain’t taking care of no grown ass man” I told her. “Cause I could do bad all by myself.” While I was on the telephone, in walks Craig.
I saw Owen standing
outside. I quickly told Angie I would call her later and hung up. “What you doing here?” I asked him with a look that told him I was in no mood for no bull. He walked over to me, and started explaining that when he went to work, Richie told him to punch out, and fired him. I stood there, quiet, and then started patting my foot. My blood was beginning to boil, Craig had been through job after job, and he knew in order to stay out on parole he needed to keep a job. “Baby, I’m sorry” he started to plead. “I promise I will find another job. I just came from the unemployment office, and I’m going to call my parole officer tomorrow and see what
they have for me. This will give me a chance to cook for you.” he said as he moved closer to me, reaching around my waist, and kissing me on the lips. I stood there looking at him, mouth turned up, not kissing him back. I just held up the letter, and looked at him waiting for an explanation. At first he looked confused and moved his head back, to get a better look. “What’s that?” he said his mouth now turned up “You tell me” I said, handing the paper to him. “Where did you get this?” he asked as he read it. “Where was it?” I asked him “Craig come on, who the hell is EE, who is she?” I asked him. “This is an old letter Niece” he said, balling it up again. “Did you see the date?” he asked. “No Craig, I didn’t” I told him. “Let me see?” I said as I held out my hand to get the letter, he wouldn’t give it back. I stepped over to him, he moved away. “I don’t believe you going through my things” he said. “After all this time Niece, you think I would cheat on you?” “I love you girl, my kids, our kids. Now, you know you are my heart,” he said kissing me again.
“I know that’s right I told him,” kissing him back. “Alright, I’m out, I’m cooking din din tonight” he said, walking towards the door. I spotted Owen still standing outside now smoking a cigarette. “Tell Owen he didn’t have to come in” I yelled. He didn’t respond he and Owen just walked up the street.
When I got home, as promised he had dinner waiting, nothing fancy just some barbeque chicken, corn and rice that was so sticky I thought it was paste. I couldn’t complain, it was one less thing that I had to do, and the kids seemed to enjoy it. The night seemed fine, no mention of Richie or any plans for employment. I figured I’d wait until tomorrow. Tonight was too peaceful to ruin.
The next morning I got up as usual, kissed my kids good-bye, gave last minute chore instructions and headed out the door. “Damn” I said to myself, I forgot Craig was still in bed. I hurried back to my room, kissed him, trying not to wake him, but did. He grabbed my ass, gripping it tightly in his huge hands, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear for me to get back in bed with him. and finally left for work.
I told him no, laughed, fixed my clothes
The next few weeks were nice, meals done, kids doing their homework, house neat. I was ok with the arrangement until I realized Craig was too. He didn’t mention not once about calling his parole officer or finding a job. He did remind me though that I had an appointment at the welfare office for my food stamps. That got on my nerves, I asked him about his job situation, and he told me he was waiting to hear back from some places. I left the subject alone, and prepared for my appointment.
I hated going up there. No matter what time I got there, it was always crowded. The people that took your information looked like they were just pulled off the streets and needed food stamps, cash and Medicaid themselves. I hated going up there, but I was there, waiting to plead my case, why I needed their help to feed my kids. I would always say to myself I wasn’t going to let them piss me off, but it never failed. They always did. It was a miracle that my wait was only three hours. I usually had to wait five hours including their break for lunch. They only wanted more information on my baby daddies and to tell me that I was getting a $15 a month raise in benefits. That was worth the wait, but not the day off.
I could have gone downtown to go window shopping, but I didn’t feel like dreaming, so I caught the bus home. I couldn’t wait to get there; I had planned to lay down for a minute before the kids got home and all the madness started. Those plans changed though when I opened my front door.
Dana McNaire
Dana McNaire, 37, on September 12, 2005. The funeral will be at 10 a.m. Friday at New Choice Baptist Church with burial in Roseville Hill Cemetery. The Rev. J. Harder will officiate. A native of Albany, Ms. McNaire was employed by Nutel Technologies. She was educated in the Dougherty County School System and attended ABAC College. Survivors include her parents, James Leroy and Sarah Jane Jordan of Albany, a daughter, Ashley Marie McNaire of Albany, and a son, Ashland, a brother, Stephan Jordan of Albany and a sister Graceland Tina Roon, dear aunt of Jocelyn Renee Jordan. Visitation will be from 7 - 9 p.m. today at Smith & Sons Funeral Home.
Chapter One I am so glad my sister convinced me to start writing in a journal.
It feels
so good to be able to release my feelings and have not a single person know how I feel. Me and my sister have now been documenting every aspect of our life since the 8th grade. We both have books lined up in our basements full of our feelings whether good or bad. Thank God my parents respected our privacy; otherwise they would know things about us that they don’t need to. Unlike those journals, I hope one day somebody will take the time to read this one. This one is full of details of my tormented last year on earth.
What beautiful sailboats, my God the sand feels so good on my feet. Although the temperature is well over 90 degrees, it feels wonderful. Speaking of the sun, it feels like a blessing beaming on my chocolate brown skin. My hair in these sexy corn rows, my bikini, bright with Caribbean colors. Damn, I look good for a 36 year old with two children. My my look at these brothers of all shapes and sizes cruising the beach, checking me out as I welcome the attention and throwing it right back at them. They know a hot thang when they see one. “What a lovely day to be laid up on the white sandy beach of Jamaica.” I said to myself. “May I have another jelly juice?” I asked the waiter, as I’m awakened from my dream by the sobs of my mother who was standing at my hospital bed. “Oh Dana, can you hear me?” she said in the saddest voice. I struggled to open my eyes. They felt so heavy that I thought they were glued shut at some point. As light and images came into focus, I started to catch glimpses of people around me. I heard my sister whispering something like. “I think she’s waking up. I saw my brother standing close to my parents. “What’s going on?” “Where am I?” I thought.
From the way things sounded, I figured I was in a hospital room, but why? I knew I was laying flat on my back with a headache I could not explain. Finally the struggle to open my eyes was over. They were wide open looking around. I saw my parents, my brother and sister. My cousin sat in a chair in the corner of the room. “What?” I said in a voice that was hoarse from a throat that was the sorest I could remember. “What happened to me?” I wanted to ask but I could not speak. “Dana” I heard my mother cry as she held onto my hand. My father kissed me on the other that housed my IV. My sister Grace called for the nurse, me still looking wildly trying to remember the last time I was standing tall. Oh yes, I remember something. I remember standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes after cooking for my eight year old twins, Ashley and Ashland. We were having a good time. They were showing me the latest dances. I was showing them how we did our thing back in the day. They could not believe their mother could get down like that. Then my husband came in. “Hey my darling” I yelled to him with his fine self. He has the smoothest, most clear golden bronze complexion I have ever seen. He has an ever sparkling goatee that I loved to play with. “What are you doing? Don’t you think you’re too old to be dancing like that?” he said rudely.
“No” I said in a joking tone, I don’t know what bug crawled up his behind, but he will not ruin my family time with his nonsense. He slowly walked over to me, placed his mouth close to my ear, and yelled. “Stop!” so loud, the next sound I heard was a dull ring. I stood briefly, almost in shock, trying not to lunge at him. Once I was able to compose myself, I told my children who now also were frozen with disbelief by Anthony’s actions, to get ready for bed. We could not believe his behavior; after all he was supposed to be “Officer Friendly”, a police officer for six years now. I know he was under pressure at work lately. He was trying to make detective and that was the only reason I excused him. After that very intense moment I suggested to Anthony that he too try and get some rest, but only got the look of death, and his back to continue my conversation with. Once I made sure the children were upstairs, I joined my stressed out husband who was sitting on the couch. I sat on his lap, but was quickly thrown off. “Anthony, what’s the problem?” I asked him, now sitting on the floor waiting for an explanation. I couldn’t believe I didn’t scratch his eyes out the way he threw me to the floor. “Hello?” I said looking up in his face. “Anthony, what’s the problem?” I asked again, now placing my hand on his knee. “Dana, I’m tired,” he said rubbing his face. I’m tired of trying to prove myself to Chief Abbott”. I’m sick and tired of busting my ass for six
years” he said, his voice getting louder, his facial features, changing right in front of my eyes. “Anthony, what happened?” I said beginning to now climb onto the couch, since he was starting to stand. “What happened? You want to know? You know that bitch Kia made detective! She has been on the force for three years, not even, only 2 ½ years! That bitch has been there only 2 ½ years, and they gave it to her! They just passed me up!” he continued to yell. I suddenly felt an object hit my face, and then darkness, then object, more darkness, and then silence. Oh my God, I said to myself. I wouldn’t dare attempt to try to speak aloud again. It was too painful. Anthony beat me up, he put me in the hospital and my entire family knew it. Oh my God! I thought again as I felt tears flowing down the sides of my face. Where were my children? Did they know what happened? Did they see him attacking me? Was he arrested for this? He can’t go to jail, I thought.
Chapter Two My sister walked over with the nurse and doctor.
I heard him softly ask
my family to leave the room. Grace being Grace refused. She was the baby sister that used her aggressive side every chance she got. She usually demanded her way, and nine times out of ten got it. I saw her standing on one side of the bed, while the doctor and nurse stood on the other. “Uh huh” the old pale white doctor said, as he pointed a mini flashlight in my very sore eyes. “Good, looking good, Dana can you hear me?” he asked, I nodded yes. Nothing was wrong with my hearing. My throat on the other hand was another deal. ”Dana, do you know where you are?” he asked again, and again, I nodded my head yes. I was now fully aware I was lying in the very same hospital I had given birth to my children. I felt his soft hands press against my neck, and my reflexes made me reach for his hands in an attempt to push him away. “It’s ok Dana, it’s going to be fine” he said, but it wasn’t ok; my throat was sore as hell. “Don’t worry Dana; we’re going to bury his ass.” Grace said with her bossy self. I knew right away she was talking about Anthony. She hated him, always did. I had to beg my own sister to be my Maid of Honor due to that hatred. She thought Anthony was too controlling, but I loved the way he took charge of things. She was just mad because her
husband didn’t make a move without first asking her. What a meek individual, I thought. But to each it’s own. Oh look, I thought to myself as I counted the beautiful roses that rested on the night stand, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, and 24. Two-dozen roses, long stem burgundy roses for me. Who else could they be for? I was the sick one here. Who were they from? I motioned to Grace to hand me the card. She did, but first had to suck her teeth. “I should have thrown them in the garbage” she said as she snatched the small envelope out of the bush of roses and tossed it next to my hand. I struggled to open the envelope that was partly opened, but was assisted by Grace. She again snatched the small card out of the envelope and held it up to my face. I immediately recognized Anthony’s’ handwriting, it read BABY GIRL, I LOVE YOU YOU’RE MY BREATH I’M SORRY, LOVE ALWAYS PAPA. Again I felt tears roll from the sides of my face. How could he do this to me? We had had fights in the past, but never before did I need to have to stay in the hospital because of it. This has to be some kind of mistake, maybe we were fighting and then I fell. Yes, that was it. I fell while were fighting. Anthony would never do this to me. Put me in the hospital, in front of my entire family? No, he wouldn’t do me like this, this was a mistake. But it was true. The mistake was his. He went too far this time. I now realize that the reason
my throat was so sore was because he had choked me until I passed out. He had beaten me so violently in my face that he had burst multiple blood vessels in both my eyes. I had a concussion due to my dear husband slamming my head on the floor. All this was done so quickly and quietly that my children who slept upstairs never heard a thing. I will forever be grateful that Anthony at least called 911 when he found that he couldn’t wake me from the beating I endured at his hands. As soon as the doctor left, my parents rushed back into the room. My mother, although still appeared worried, had a slight smile on her face. My father, as always stood nearby, holding her, supporting the family like he was known to do. Even though I now knew that it would hurt to speak, I attempted to tell them I loved them. I wanted them to stop worrying, and know that I was fine, or I would be eventually. In the back of my mind, I still wondered where Anthony was, but I dare not ask. I knew my family was heated, and did not want to even hear his name. “Ashley… Ashland” I mumbled, through a frog sounding voice. “Jasmine has them, they are fine Dana” Grace said. Jasmine was my niece, Grace’s daughter. She was seventeen years old and a great person who helped me with my children ever since they were born. Still no one mentioned Anthony and neither did I. A week and a half later, I was being discharged. I dreaded going home; I missed the kids like crazy. I
had only called them on the phone. I didn’t want them to have the memory of seeing their mother lying in a hospital bed with bruises that were as colorful as a rainbow. My brother Stephan was there early in the morning, wearing a giant smile, and holding an even bigger teddy bear in both his hands. “For my big sister” he said, kissing me on my still swollen cheek.
My brother is what I call a model man. He has a degree in finance, and runs his own accounting firm. I have to say he does well for himself. He married his wife Renee just two years ago, and they are having their first child in just a few months. He worships her, and isn’t afraid to let the world know. Not even he mentioned Anthony. He usually was the peacemaker in the family so I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t lose his mind when he looked at my battered face. He must be the calmest person I know. Even I nearly fainted when I was finally given a mirror and looked at my face. I knew he would talk about my situation later. Stephan didn’t like to get involved in me and Grace’s relationships. He just went with the flow and we appreciated him for being that way. After the doctor gave me one last check up, he gave me a prescription for pain medication, wished me well and sent me on my way. My sweet brother
wheeled me out with the nurse’s approval and started a conversation I knew he didn’t want to have. “Sis you know I love you” he started. “Yes brother” I said teasing him “And I would never do or say anything to hurt you” he said, taking his time, choosing his words carefully “I know Stephan” “What’s up?” “Uh Sis, Anthony will not be at your house when you get there” “What?” I said, signally him to stop pushing the chair. “I told him if he didn’t leave that I will call his lieutenant and tell him how he attacked you.” “I helped him pack his things and loaded them on a U HAUL truck.” He continued. “He left just like that Stephan?” I said in a low disappointed tone. “He left his family?” “He walked out on us that easily?” I asked as he started pushing me again. “He tried to argue with me.” “He told me it was his house and all that bullshit, but I told him if he didn’t get his ass away, and keep his ass away I would call his lieutenant
and he wouldn’t have a job when he woke up the next morning! Dana I’m sorry, I wouldn’t feel safe with him being around you and the kids.” “I don’t want to hurt the man, or do something stupid to mess up my life. I just want him away from you.” Stephan said now helping me out of the chair and into his Mercedes 320. Nothing was wrong with my legs, but yet my brother held me up as if it were. He was such a gentleman I could not imagine him arguing with Anthony who was as loud as a bullhorn. Again, I repeated, “I can’t believe he just left us like that”. “Yes he did, and be glad Sis, you don’t need him. I’m here if you need anything” he told me, patting my hand and again smiling. I smiled back even though the thought of going home and not seeing my husband of twelve years made me want to cry.
My emotions were torn between anger, pain and then confusion. I was pissed that Anthony would go here with this fighting. I was hurt that he didn’t make one personal appearance at the hospital and confused for two reasons. Why did he feel he had to do this to me? Why did he leave without incident? I know my husband, and he never did anything that he didn’t want to do. He took the cliché his “own man” literally. I believe his job suited him to the tee. Being in power was his thing, and being New York’s Top cop provided him with lots of it. Most of the
cops’ wives worried about their husbands coming home. I can’t say I joined them in their worries. It was the gangsters and other street trash that should be scared when Anthony McNair was working. I was not worried about him at all. He could hold his own. In the background of my thoughts I could hear Stephan talking about him and Renee and their plans for their baby. I was aware that every relationship had their problems, but they always seemed so happy together. Grace and me used to make jokes that behind the scenes, once in their house, he and Renee put on boxing gloves and boxed until the sun came up. I am sure they really were as happy as the appeared, but still the thought always gave us a good laugh. My father was also a gentle sweet man that still pulled out the chair for my mother, opened the door for her and kissed her spontaneously in public. I admired my parents’ relationship, and noticed that Stephan did as well. I’m sure that is who he is trying to mirror, an attempt that he is doing a great job living out. Good for him, good for the both of them, I thought. I loved my father and brother dearly, but desire the kind of man that was able to take control. I was relieved to be pulling into a parking space two houses down from mine. I couldn’t stand to hear anymore of the perfect family stories, especially at a time like this. I wanted to see my children, take two aspirin, and rest my aching head. I’m not sure what was making it hurt more. Could it be
the pain from the beating? The anticipated looks from my children, or the pain from Anthony’s departure from his family. My mind raced as Stephan put the car in park, and headed for the trunk to get my suitcase. I gathered the balloons that were in the back seat as I took a quick look around my neighborhood. I wondered if my very conservative neighbors knew about the problems me and husband was having. I hoped they didn’t. Anthony was a well-known respectable man, and although he had made this awful mistake, I wouldn’t want him to forever pay for it with the label of “wife beater”. He wasn’t that at all. We both had hand problems in the past, but always seemed to be able to get past those crazy fights. “You ready?” I heard my brothers’ voice ring out, sighing as if he was irritated, but yet he smiled. “As ready as I’m going to be” I told him now standing one house from mine with a dozen of get-well balloons, and this giant teddy bear in my arms. If the neighbors didn’t know I had been ill, they will surely know now. “Oh well” I thought to myself and walked as fast as I could. I wished I could simply snap my fingers and be in my house. But the reality was I couldn’t so I continued the 15 feet journey to my house as quietly as possible. I hesitated when I reached the top of my stairs. I thought again about my children’s faces. How will they react when they saw mine? No one discussed what was told to my children. They knew I was in the hospital, and had bruises and cuts
in my face, but no one said what was told to the children as to how those they got there. “Alright, here we go” I said as I rang the bell. God only knows where my keys were. I could hear the kids laughing and screaming as they approached the door. “Hi Auntie” Jasmine said, trying to hold back two very eager children who wanted to see their mother. “Hey Jasmine” I said to her, hugging her neck. “Mommy!” Ashley and Ashland yelled out, grabbing me around my waist. “Hey guys!” I said to them; as I bent down to kiss them on their faces. Together we walked further into the living room, I struggled to walk with a child on each side, while carrying the balloons and Ashland dragging the oversized teddy bear. I was greeted by my parents and Grace who had placed a Welcome Home banner in the middle of the dining room wall. “Awe” I said feeling choked up enough to cry. “Mommy, I made this for you” Ashland said, grabbing a red piece of paper from the dining room table. It read, “To my mother, I hope you feel better soon.” “Mommy look at this!” Ashley yelled nearly pushing Ashland out from in front of me. She had a necklace made from macaroni. “Awe thank you sweetie” I told her, placing it around my neck. “Mommy next time you get in a car, wear it for good luck, ok?” Ashland said. “Yea, so that you won’t get in another car accident” Ashley chimed in, now holding me around my neck while I rested on the couch. I looked into Grace’s eyes and gave
her a smile of approval. She returned the smile with one that was mixed with a disgusted grin and it was left at that. I was glad they didn’t tell my kids the truth. They admired Anthony and despite what happened between the two of us, I didn’t want to involve them.