“The sweetest thing I’ve ever knooown/ Was like a kiss on the, collarbone/ the soft caress of hap-pi-ness/ the way you walk, your/ style of dress…”
Imagine that the guy you’ve had a crush on for a while confesses to you that he feels the same way. Imagine that with you, he’s the perfect gentleman and a complete contradiction to everything you thought he was, or perhaps, to what everyone else said he was. Imagine that he treats you like a queen. Literally. That he flies you down to his hometown – and first class, at that – to meet his parents and spend the weekend with him. People say that when something is too good to be true, it usually is. As I’m riding in the passenger seat of this car, my eyes taking in all of the downtown area of Dallas, Texas, in its full glory as Lauryn Hill’s song “The Sweetest Thing” plays in the background, it seems like for me, the dream is really real.
It’s Saturday morning, the first real day of Spring Break for Georgia State University students. Some students have headed home for family time and home cooking. Others are off on Spring Break trips with their friends. But all of us are more than thankful to be done with midterms and to have reached the halfway point of the semester. And I, of course, am spending the next couple of days with my baby and his family… perhaps because I know I can’t go home to my own family.
Koral was angry with me. She had expected me to hold true to my word and come back to Houston for Spring Break. I’d told her after my last final on Thursday about my alternative plans.
“Noooo! Kandyce, that’s not fair!” she’d whined.
“I know, I know,” I’d tried to sympathize. “And I’m sorry, little sister. I would have come, but some friends planned out this last minute road trip to Dallas.”
“To Dallas?! ‘Ratchet City’ Dallas?” I’d chuckled a bit at Koral’s phrase.
“I mean, I’m hoping we’ll avoid the ratchet parts. But I guess we’ll see.”
“But, Kandyceee! What about me? What about Dad wanting to see you?”
“Dad doesn’t want to see me,” I had said, as much to her as to myself.
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”
“Koral, you don’t understand.”
“But I do, Kandyce!” she tried to reassure me. “I do know why you don’t want to come back, but that’s not important right now, okay? You don’t want to come home because of Mom. I know Mom can be downright evil to you sometimes, Kandle, but that shouldn’t stop from coming to see me and Dad.” To an extent, Koral had had a point. Being able to see the two of them would easily offset any negativity Iris might throw my way. But I was still scarred from last summer, and neither my pride nor my heart would let me move past that.
“I’m sorry, Koral,” I’d told her. “I want to, but right now, I just can’t. I’ll come visit soon, though, I promise.” Koral had mumbled, “You always say that,” and I could hear the disappointment in her voice. It broke my heart a little bit just recalling our conversation. Koral couldn’t understand. She’d never gone through what I’d gone through. Iris would never have done to her what she did to me…
“I get mad when you walk away/ So I tell you leave/ when I mean stay…”
Lauryn Hill’s painfully joyful wail brought me back to reality before I could spiral back into the depression of that moment last summer at the dinner table. I blinked back a tear that threatened to fall from my left eye.
“K?” I looked over at Graham in the driver’s seat, took in the concerned look in his eyes and the way his lips twisted in the way they always were when something was bothering him. “You alright over there, babe?” I couldn’t help smiling at him.
“I’m good,” I told him. “Really, I am. Just thinking.”
“About?” he asked, his eyebrows raised as if to confirm he’d been asking a question, although now he’d returned his attention to the road.
“A few things.”
“Like?” he prodded. He’s really not going to let me make it, I thought to myself. In my mind, I grappled for a topic that might be distracting enough. I drew nothing. Damn you, brain! You chose the perfect time to quit on me…
“Back home,” tumbled out from between my lips. I cursed myself in my mind, but Graham merely looked over at me and nodded before returning his attention to the road.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked after a minute. I shook my head silently. If I started talking about home, then I’d go on forever. And then I’d eventually my rambling would run into last summer, and then I’d be forced to tell Graham the truth about the Creamy Peaches… which I still hadn’t done. Besides, I didn’t want to ruin the mood or put a damper on all he’d done for me. When my plane had touched down at in Atlanta just over forty minutes ago, he’d been waiting there to pick me up in this beautiful dark grey Range Rover that I was riding in now. I didn’t want to ruin that. We sat there in quietly for a few moments, Graham driving and me observing the rest of the city as Lauryn continued to pour out of the Range’s speakers.
“… Speaking on my mo-ther’s phone/ The touch that makes me/ Think I’m grown (You ain’t grown)/ Sweet prince of the ghetto/ Your kisses taste like amaretto…”
“I feel you on the home situation, though,” Graham suddenly interrupted the silence again. “Sometimes your family annoys the hell out of you. You love them and all, but they do crazy shit that pushes you away.”
“That’s about right,” I replied softly.
“But honestly, Kandyce,” Graham continued, “you can’t run away from home forever. We all have something in our past that we’d like to hide, that we don’t want anyone to know about and that we don’t particularly care to share. Sooner or later, you have to confront that, though. You don’t have to like it, but it made you who you are. You can sit there forever thinking about what happened and what you could have done differently, but that’s not going to change anything. Why spend time being defined and ruled by what you can’t change, right?”
G-Dot was right. There was nothing I could now that would take back what had happened between Iris and I, between my father and I, last summer. Only Stokely knew the whole story. I hadn’t even told Clarity about it because it was so personal. But maybe it was time to let that burden go. Graham had made it so easy to just talk to him and let my guard and my worries down around him, I thought. Could I open up to him about this one, too?
“We’re here.” I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized the car had stopped. I blinked a few times to come back to reality. As Graham got out of the car and walked around to my side, I sighed deeply. Well, I guess I have more time.
My eyes took in the fountain that was directly in front of where Graham had parked the Range Rover in the circular gravel driveway. They traveled past the fountain to a towering, Georgian-style brick house with marble columns on a long front porch. It had all the makings of one of those “estates” one might see on TV. The sight was absolutely breathtaking. Graham opened my door and extended a hand to help me out of the car.
“Eh, it’s alright,” Graham said, as if he’d caught sight of the awed expression on my face. “The inside looks a lot better, though. Shall we?” I placed my hand in his, stepped out of the Range Rover, and let him lead me up to the front doors.
***
I looked back through my basket again, trying to make sure I had everything I needed before I proceeded up to the checkout lines. Tilapia? Check. Wine? Check. Strawberries and peaches? Check. Vegetables? Vegetables? I moved around the items in the basket, even lifting out the box of Lucky Charms, trying to find the canned goods that apparently weren’t there at all. Damn. No vegetables. Begrudgingly, I headed back towards the grocery section of the store. I had already been in Wal-Mart long enough; I had come in here for groceries and somehow the Spike Lee movie Inside Man and a nice satin robe and found their way into my basket. Now that I was going back into the shopping area, I just KNEW something else was going to catch my eye that didn’t really need, but that I would easily talk myself into buying because it was “a steal” or “it’ll never be this cheap again.” It never failed in Wal-Mart.
Keeping my eyes on the basket and only glancing up to catch the names on the signs above each section, I hastily turned onto the canned goods aisle and navigated between the other shoppers on the aisle to get to the vegetables. I pulled down a can of sweet peas and a can of beets. My eye fell on the canned fruits further down the aisle. A six-pack of applesauce for $1.29?! Wait, wait. Stay focused, Clare, I told myself. Stay focused! In an effort to avoid further distractions, I decided to just get fresh carrots from the produce section. From there, I made a beeline straight to the registers.
“Ah, shit!” I had actually intended for that to be said IN my head, but what I saw at the registers caused me to say it aloud. It was just my usual luck that the registers, even the self-checkout ones, were all pretty much packed, even though it was the Monday of Spring Break. Not to mention, two people had baskets full of stuff on the damn express lines. That annoyed the hell out of me. You have like a month’s worth of groceries in your basket on the express lane. Did it just not click or did you just blatantly ignore the sign above the register that said “Ten items or less?” The incredulous expression on one of the cashier girls’ faces when she finished one order and turned back to see all those items on her belt – not to mention that the customer was STILL loading stuff onto it – said it all. Selfish bastards, I thought to myself as I sighed deeply and proceeded to one of the regular checkout lines.
“Clarity?!” The voice that had called out behind me had that tone in it of uncertain familiarity, of someone who was guessing but hoping the other person was who they thought they were. I turned my head slightly to the side. I was trying to see who was trying to get my attention out of the corner of my eye, just to ensure the person wasn’t someone whose attention I didn’t want, but it didn’t work. Please, Lord, I pleaded in my head. Please don’t let it be somebody I don’t like. Today is not the day. I turned around and almost jumped when I saw who it was.
“Wow!” the chocolate-complexioned girl exclaimed. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She made a motion like she wanted to hug me, but then backed away as though she’d changed her mind. That was probably a good idea on her part, since the last time I’d seen her, we hadn’t exactly parted on amicable terms. She did extend a hand out to me, though, and I shook it.
“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” I admitted. “How’ve you been, Josephine?”
“Oh, please, call me Joey. You already know the drill, Clarity.” Josephine Gordon – “Joey” to those who knew her and as I once knew her – was this beautiful girl who had established quite a legacy on campus during her time at Georgia State University. Back during my freshman year, Joey had been Student Government vice-president, the first Black girl to be elected to that position since 1991. She’d fought hard to get more administrative budget money allocated to underrepresented student programs and departments, like OAASS&P and the Intercultural Relations Program. Joey had also been selected as an “Inceptor,” one of the people who work with New Student Orientation for incoming freshmen over the summer. But perhaps most importantly, Joey had been President of-
“What are you still doing around here, anyway?” Joey asked, interrupting my train of thought. “Didn’t you graduate?”
“This May,” I corrected her.
“Really? Wow, that’s awesome! I’m proud of you.” A wide smile spread across Joey’s face. “You’ve come a really long way. The only reason I asked was because I remember, back in the day, you were on track to graduate a year early.” She was right: back in my first two years, I had plowed through things academically. Before the drama popped off, I might well have finished and gotten my degree last May.
“What are you still doing here?” I asked. “You did graduate, right?”
“Yep, yep!” she piped up. “I finished up last May. I’m up at Georgia doing graduate school.”
“In what?”
“Student affairs. Couldn’t leave the game alone.”
“That makes sense,” I admitted. “You did put a lot into student life at GSU. I could see you being an administrator or some sort.”
“Thanks,” Joey replied, the smile stretching even further across her face. “Hey, listen, umm… the reason I asked about your graduation was because…” She trailed off for a minute. I could tell she was trying to find the right words to say. I knew it, I thought. I knew it was just a matter of time before she’d be compelled to bring it up.
“It’s fine,” I told her, getting a little anxious now and looking back at the register. Still one more big order before mine. Damn it.
“No, it’s not,” Joey started. “I’ve felt really, really guilty about what happened back then. I want you to know that I DID fight for you, and it wasn’t just me. But the majority of my sisters were more concerned with perception at the time.”
“Yes, because perception is everything, isn’t it?”
“I deserve that,” Joey replied, nodding solemnly as the wide smile on her face faded away. “We deserve that. At the time, we did what we felt was right, Clarity. You have to understand, we had a reputation and a standard to uphold. That standard would have been threatened if we had-“
“No, it would not have,” I cut her off. “That’s the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard. Josephine, you KNEW me. I looked up to you. Yes, I made poor choices. Who doesn’t? Everybody in your organization has done something they’re not proud of. But you knew in your mind and heart that I wasn’t some ho. You say you fought for me. Apparently, you didn’t fight hard enough.” Before I knew it, tears had welled up in my eyes. I thought I had forgotten about this, I told myself. I thought I had locked this away. I blinked back my years, but was unable to contain a sniffle. Joey put a consoling hand on my shoulder.
“Look,” she began. “In retrospect, what we should have done, what I should have done, was looked into things more. You’re right. I knew you were better than that. Organizations come and go, and so do the people in them. But I’ve always felt you got screwed over. I, umm… I work with the graduate and alumni chapter of Zeta Phi Beta at Georgia. After May, if you want to talk, give me a call.” Joey opened up her purse, pulled out a business card, and handed it to me. “Even if you don’t want to talk, give me a call anyway. I’d want to be there for your graduation.”
I stared at the business card for a moment before looking back up at Joey. She smiled at me again, then walked away. By that time, it was my turn at the register. I watched the cashier ring up my items, saw his lips moving to ask if I found everything okay; but I didn’t hear anything. I saw myself swipe my credit card, carry my bags out of Wal-Mart to the car, but it was like it wasn’t me doing it. It was like I was outside of myself watching everything happen in front of me like a movie, like I was both the actor and the audience.
When I got inside my car, I was myself again. I pulled out Josephine’s business card and looked at it once more. I thought I had locked this away, I thought again. But just talking about it with Joey made me realize that even though I had locked the memory away, the emotions behind it were still very fresh and very raw. You can tell yourself you’ve forgotten about something and it works for so long. But when you’re standing face to face with it, there’s no telling how you’ll react. I was crying. Crying in the got damn car about something I thought I’d long left behind. Crying because of some stupid sorority that hadn’t given a fuck about me back when I was looking for support. No. Scratch that. I was crying because I was remembering the events that led up to that, that cost me everything I had worked so hard for back then. I needed someone to talk to. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I thought I had forgotten.
“Hello?” A deep male voice answered on the third ring.
“Good afternoon,” I greeted, clearing my throat. “Is… is Ms. Pickens there?”
