Jasmine
Hey, Miss. Can't make it tonight, sorry.
I frown. Well, that's disappointing. I was looking forward to that. Three good orgasm, a nice cuddle. Well, I guess I should ask if he's okay.
Everything alright?
I watch him start typing. I wait. And wait. How long does yes or no take, what the fuck?
He finally stops typing.
I'm not sure. Guess I'll let you, Miss. Thanks for asking.
I smirk. He really is cute. Maybe I should get him something. Like a ball gag.
My phone rings. I pick it up.
"So I was thinking a nice ball gag, pretty color like red." I smirk.
"Excuse me?"
I blink. "Mother. I'm sorry, that was...a joke. Is father dead?"
"No."
I frown. "Brother then?"
"No."
"Are you dead, calling me from the other side?"
"Another one of your jokes I take it?" She said with disdain.
I look at my nails. I need to get them redone. "You know someone told me today, that my hair is fine the way it is. Not straighten, relaxed gelled in a bun. It's fine."
"Mh. Let me guess, some white person, who's recently become an activist?"
I roll my eyes. "He's not wrong. My hair is just my hair. It doesn't have an adjective. It's not unprofessional. It's just my hair."
"And why are you bothering to tell me that?"
"Because you always said that my hair was unprofessional. And it's not."
"Then wear it out."
"I will."
She laughed. "Stupid girl. All those buzz words on TV, those empowering statements...they mean thing. Because at the end of the day, you are black. You are a black woman, and if you didn't straighten your hair, no matter what they say to your face, you'd be a negro, who doesn't belong."
I swallow my words. The worst part about it all...is that she's right. I know that. It's just...I wish of all the people I'd heard it from, it wasn't her.
"You never told me who died?"
"No one died, stupid girl."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, Mother. Then what's the occasion."
"I was watching the television, and I saw you had an article printed about you."
"Let me guess. My dress was too short or the wrong color or my edges were frayed."
"I wanted to say...I found some fruit at a local fruit stand. I'll send it to you."
She hangs up. Oh. Fruit. That's her way of saying sorry or congratulations.
I sigh. Talking with her is draining. I call someone who's less draining.
