Mom told me to get rid of my bitch face.
It was perfectly fine not to smile all the time whether I was unhappy about something or an individual ruined it for me. My day I mean.
Supposedly, it was a typical idiosyncrasy I carried around in public to drive away people most of the time and drew away eyeballing attention. It never meant I did not want to talk to people. Sure, I was friendly, but being overly friendly and kind was sometimes taken as a weakness, something I was constantly dealing with.
Dance and washing dishes was a buzz kill when as keeping up with recent episodes on TV sounded great right about now. Mom called my name twice and wanted to have another conversation with me again. I couldn't help but be annoyed after she pissed me off about not paying for the dance competition.
"You're going to have to pull out your suitcase and began packing soon. You are staying with adults who can take care of you for now...and your cousins."
I clean out one of the ceramic plates, "What do you mean?"
"Well, while I'm on my trip, you'll be living - not necessarily living - but staying at the Dales' house for a couple months over the summer and before. Starting tomorrow."
"I can't stay at Dad's?"
"What?" She fumed, narrowing her slender tedious brown eyes in a thin line. The air in the room felt colder and stale. The atmosphere's warmth was suddenly floating over our heads waiting for comfort and ease to coil back around us.
Mom never liked to bring up Dad and I never understood why. He would occasionally call to inform us on his glorious life without really boasting about it, just his choice of words and past achievements were thrown in his pretentious altercation. It made Mom jealous, of course, as she wanted glory and content, something she craved for over this life she was given.
Her knuckles lightened from the grip on the telephone, but her voice forced prosperity on his achievement through tight lips.
Maybe that's what broken love does to narcissistic or greedy people.
"I," I coughed to clear the raspy tone in my throat, "I'll pack instead. That's what I mean to say anyways."
That was one of the reasons why I hated Mom. Is it possible to hate someone so close to you when hostile just sparks in their direction?
The fact that this news was thrown at me all at once was crazy. No heads up or scheduling time occurred though it wasn't my first time staying at the Dales over the summer by myself. Just been a long time and this time without Mom. Being pessimistic got the best of me, and I simply knew I was not going on the California trip and was staying with my cousins for long months ahead as I summed up the summer break in my head.
It wasn't fair, especially to me, who had to be treated like a little girl, I thought I was old enough to foray my own life and decisions?
I still had to be decisive in quick situations, entitle to my own opinions and encounter significant responsibilities a young lady. Maybe a little part where my parent lends a hand and actually cares about what I have to say?
Where was that side of her, the mother part I could rely on until I was on my own?
Pulling out my black suitcase that collected dust in the closet, my finger zipped it open and grabbing articles of clothing from the dresser, I threw in some cute bras and short cut undergarments that showed a lot of butt cheek.
That should be a start.
_____
Home no longer looked like home. After hefty chores were completed in each room, the room resembled a share of home renovations when the place was in stock. Everything was too perfect, too chaste, and it was like we were either walking out and someone new walked in an orderly place for the first time.
Mom signed out in crooked cursive from the room while speaking to the concierge sweetly. Our luggage filled up two trolley carts with most of mine and a couple of hers at the door, stacked on top like Oreos.
"Did you get your charger?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You brought that thing you were supposed to bring, not the other one?"
It slightly bothered me when she couldn't remember the name of that "thing."
"What other one?"
"The other thing I said not to bring."
"Oh, yeah," I answered.
"Did you put deodorant and perfume on to smell decent?"
"That's already been done." I hummed with irritation at the listed questions she continued to badger about.
"Good. I don't need you stinking up the whole place and their house."
The bulky taxi man, doorman, and I had to stack the luggage in the trunk and the smaller bags in the front passenger's seat with the driver. Mom stood around on that phone of hers that someone should snatch away and take off running with.
I ignored what she said about the smelling. "What am I going to do about school?"
"You really want to go to school? I've never seen you so happy for school before except when you were younger. Remember when you had that bubbly preschool teacher that let kids color all the time and made you learn a new language?"
"No, I didn't really ask if I could go, I asked what am I going to do about it? I still have finals and other tests and exams, graduation is important too."
She shooed me with her hand, "It's all taken care of. I promise, I had long talks with those guidance counselors and school administrators. You'll still be doing work, just online and emailed to you specifically and done over the summer. No big deal."
The deal sounded pretty big, large even if the school was okay with this. The school will probably be the last thing on my mind right now if it weren't for Mom leaving me behind to travel overseas as I got stuck working and finishing school work.
What a great way to kick off the summer.
_____
The time it took to get there would have been a lot longer if we took restroom breaks.
My eyes decided to follow the tall trees as they darted past the corner of my eye. The green and brown mushed together if I stared too long in one perspective but brought out it's separate colors when I stared at each tree one by one along the road. The ordinary trees that never bloomed flowers throughout each season were replaced with palm trees that spread out and became taller more and more. The atmosphere was breathlessly hotter and the sun reflected brighter light off the taxi glass windows.
It felt like we arrived in a new country or state. The environment was live and aesthetic houses were wider, spacey, more vibrant to the keen eye. The rich green lawns were longer, the neighborhoods were safer, the "belonging" in the area felt right to me.
I was mesmerized by the beauty of it all and held bitter envy inside I never usually possessed, the wanting and desiring being real.
It all just felt good to be back again and jealous all at once.
"Ebonee."
My name rung out but was unrecognizable at the moment, and didn't seem to belong to me.
"Mh?" I muffled, half-listening.
"Follow all the regulations or orders they have in their house and don't cause trouble. It's been four years since you've stayed here, they are your cousins, not friends, so be polite and show respect to family please."
"Okay."
"And don't use any items or objects of theirs unless you get permission."
"Got it."Her nagging went on till then like there was no tomorrow. What Mom really wanted to say were along the lines of your cousins are richer than us, so it's a given opportunity I stay with them and don't break or steal their things all in one sentence and most importantly behave. Which happened with one of Aunt Sheilah's friends and Wesley's too. I heard the stories. Acquaintances taking objects that didn't belong to them and sneaking it in their pockets when their backs were turned. But I wouldn't do that to my own family, no matter how many things they possessed in their glorious house, I was never raised to be a materialist. She still wanted me to be that perfect ideal daughter, the one that doesn't make stupid mistakes and has her life together by telling me to obey the rules.
But I wasn't either of the two.
The taxi pulled up to an exquisite elegant house I recognized more vividly as we got closer. Tan bricks surrounded the territory, sharing its elegance with anything only inside and separating what was not. Some palm trees poked over the fence, giving it a bodily organic view newly weds would love to move into after their honeymoon.
Since the black gate locked the outside world and it wasn't automatic, Mom had to get out of the taxi and unlocked it by covering her hand over the code she typed in and back to us.
As my eyes wandered elsewhere and landed on the colossal house which was just how I remembered it would be, but it didn't feel like I would fit the frame. Just another guest that became irrelevant to the Dales' life.
The translucent windows enlarged enough on the exterior portion of the home anyone could see into the kitchen and certain furniture were distinguished. The olive grass made horizontal lines in the fresh cut. There weren't any fancy flowers or radiant trees unless it correlated with the beige and white house.
The residence was quite lovely and plain yet astonishing.
Simone, one of my cousins, stood on the step outside the house, texting away on her phone and not looking up to see who was in the car.
Shades hid her eyes from the rest of the world and her finger twirled around the end of a honey-brown curly hair strand. Her upper thighs never meet and leave a huge chasm in the middle I could see everything behind her.
What do they call it these days? Thigh gaps?
Simone's frame was more lanky and awkward the last time I saw her from her toned legs and slim figure, but she got taller.
It could've been the heels that fooled everyone.
Mom hopped out the car with a giant smile on her face showing too many teeth for a composed greeting. I stopped short to get my luggage from the trunk since greetings weren't my favorite if I had to acknowledge them first.
"Ah, Simone honey, you look stunning," she said in a sing-song voice.
She was more excited to see Simone than me when I got home.
"Yes! I'm so glad you're here. I can't believe you brought a taxi."
I struggled with one of the lugages, the wheel getting stuck in.
"Yes, I did, I couldn't bring my car really."
"Let me get my suitcases and freshen up before we go."
I tugged another time and it barely budged. Where is the taxi driver? Why is he sitting in their anyway? I need help.
"What 'we' Simone?"
"Yeah, aren't you suppose to take me to the airport?"
Pulling for the third time, my back ached and my arms turned numb at all the energy I put to use in the hot sun.
"No..." Mom poised between certainty and doubt in her answer, "Sheilah never told me to do anything."
Her eyes read confusion, but her tilted head hid the letdown on Mom's behalf and clicked on full speed because Simone was fighting it over her over-stretched grin.
"Then why are you here?"
The question could've resulted in a face slap, one rough hand to one delicate cheek. I finally was able to yank out the black suitcase as it cracked to the ground, the gray wheels spinning out of control.
The loud noise centered to their undivided attention in my direction, finally, their eyes glued to something other than technology, and Mom yelled at me even though Simone should have been the one punished.
"Ebonee! That luggage is expensive. Be careful!" She scolded.
I swept a piece of hair that was sticking to my forehead from the mass heat and strolled up the stairs trying to ignore her.
My steps were stomped to be heard when I didn't even want the attention. Mom spoke to Simone like she hasn't seen her in so long, her voice light and airy.
"Ebonee is going to be staying with you guys for a while though, Ebonee? Aren't you going to say something to your cousin?" blurted Mom.
Her eyebrows cocked up and irritation marked how rude I was being.
Mom placed a warm hand on Simone's shoulder and went inside to say hello to the others leaving me with Simone.
Something was awfully different.
I knew people changed over time, especially if it's been more than a few months, or even years, things were not the same.
A friendly hug would've been appropriate and shrieking each other's names was overfriendly like how we use to do when we were younger.
Simone checked her phone for another time, making sure it didn't vanish out of her hands and stared boredly at my shirt.
"What happened to your shirt? Where the hell did you get it from?"
I glanced down at the worn fabric and slightly tugged the hem. "This? I just picked it up from the thrift store."
A similar expression formed on her face the way Dezirae looked at me. A little snort escapes, coming from her nose but she tried to hold it in.
"You know those nasty used clothes may not be clean right?"
"I'm pretty sure it's okay to wear if you wash it, you don't know that for sure." I said.
"No," she argued, "that shit is trifling and disgusting, wearing someone else's clothes. You don't know if they had some disease or washed it but you assume it's wearable."
I frowned, "So you're saying all the clothes in the thrift store, even the ones that still have a price tag on them are filthy? The employees go through and organize the articles of clothing all the time."
"And that makes it suddenly clean?" She snapped.
Stuck in utter shock, I didn't understand what I possibly did to make her go off on me when it has been years since we've seen each other to make up past times.
Our conversation quickly ended when that phone of hers became more important than me. I stood there awkwardly before taking the bags inside.
A huge black frame held an over-sized picture by the entrance portrayed a young adolescent with his arms neatly crossed over his chest and a good gap between his front teeth. "RIP Clyde" were bolded in big letters as well as his birth and early death date.
The last thing anyone would see that came to mind when viewing the picture would be a buoyant kid in his death bed.
No one talked about Clyde the way a teenager would gossip about someone they loathed. Or the scandal the latest celebrity did this time in the news. His name was swept under the rug and never mentioned in conversations unless the family said it first.
Boundaries were drawn and curiosity killed the cat, a common idiom Dad uses when trouble was awake for nosy insensitive people.
I wasn't one of those people though.
Sometimes things were better left unsaid.
"You need some help there?" A deep masculine voice asked. I followed it and couldn't help but grin from ear to ear.
"André!" I screamed and gave him a warm hug. At least one of my cousins were happy to see me.
"Lil' Bo, you're all big and tall now." André said pulling away.
Yeah, not really little anymore." I muffled.
He grabbed the handles and straps of my black suitcases and bags. "I know that's right. Follow me, I'll show you your room." He replied back with a nudge of a head.
I trailed behind him up the wooden wide stairs and asked how he knew I was coming. He answered with his parents mentioned it from time to time before they officially left. The air conditioner wasn't on upstairs so the hallways were humid and stuffy, it was difficult to breathe. André stopped my belongings at the closed door and I worried if I was staying in Clyde's room.
The knob was turned and he pushed the door open as I peeked an eyeball around the chamber.
"You can settle most of your stuff on the bed or closet and chill. I'm getting ready to leave soon."
And that was that. André left me to explore the rest on my own. The bohemian-styled bed centered the place with warm colors, tangerine and nautical. Some of the polished wooden floors creaked underneath my feet, steps that left an unworn sound in them. The windows were wide enough to see the gravel of the roads beyond the gates and the bright soft pink bikes with woven baskets that eased its way near the sidewalk. A brown dresser expanded out on the section of the room with a horizontal glass mirror. Not a lot furniture filled the room, which was good, I could do some dance practice during my spare time. Yet they kept the same concept for the exteriors as well as the interior. Natural but embellished.
Nothing like a guy's room Clyde was staying in, but a settled guest room for those who were invited.
"This is it," I whispered to myself, "The beginning of nowhere but the countdown is here."
_____________________________________________
A/N: I had one question about this book being a sequel. I don't necessarily want to make it a sequel because...well the story doesn't really revolve around the same characters but their children. Old characters may pop in here and there. But it's not a necessity to read "Shawty Like Her" or anything. I'll drop hints on who is related to whom, but it's not that many people. I just wanted to bring them in because ( I don't want to give it away lol) they are "involved" in an important event and it makes sense if they are there. Lol, yall are like wtf does she mean!? it'll make sense later, I'm just so ready to put a chap 5 though because I like it. So yeah! Vote, Comment, Enjoy!