“What is it that you want most out of life right now?” Ms. Pickens asked. I looked in her eyes and saw myself flailing in the waters of her inquisitive stare. I took a sip of my Caramel Macchiato before responding.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean… what are you asking me? Like my feelings or something? What my goals are?”
“I’m asking exactly what I said,” Ms. Pickens posited. “What is it that you want most out of your life right now? Do you want to be happy? Do you want some closure with something? Do you want your degree?”
“I want to be able to laugh again. To laugh with someone or smile at something and not feel suspicious or guarded in doing so.”
“Why do you think you feel guarded?” Ms. Pickens prodded me. I looked away for a minute, let my eyes travel over the other people seated around us on the Starbucks Coffee shop patio. The weather’s nice for a late Tuesday morning, not too hot and not too cold. I ran a hand through the tied back curls of my hair. After my semi-breakdown in the Wal-Mart parking lot yesterday, I’d called Ms. Pickens on the house phone number she’d given me back when I used to go see her for counseling. We’d arranged to meet up today so I could basically talk to her to clear my head and get an idea of where I needed to go mentally.
“Because I’ve come to learn and accept that if I don’t protect me, no one else will,” I said after another moment had passed. “It used to be so easy for me to trust people. That was back when I thought everybody had my back. When I didn’t understand that there was a difference between ‘friends’ and ‘associates.’”
“So you don’t trust people anymore?” she asked. I shook my head “no.”
“Trusting people is overrated. I can keep my secrets knowing that no one else would know them unless I wanted them to. You give people a piece of your heart and they always let you down. It never fails.”
“That’s a rough way to go through life, Clarity,” Ms. Pickens remarked, taking a sip of her coffee at the same time as I did my Macchiato. “Yes, people do let you down. But not being able to trust anyone?”
“Because no one’s proven themselves trustworthy to me.”
“Clarity… I feel like you’re letting what happened to you once affect everybody you come into contact with.”
“Of course I am,” I told her, looking down at the ground now. “That’s what you do – you see your mistakes and you take action to make sure those same mistakes won’t be repeated in the future.”
“That may be, but you aren’t God. There’s no way for ANY of us to be able to predict the future. We can take all kinds of precautions and make all kinds of plans, but at the end of the day, if something is supposed to happen, it’s going to happen.”
“But there’s nothing wrong being prepared.”
“Clarity, there is a fine line between being prepared and being scarred.” Something about the way Ms. Pickens had said that made me look up at her. “I was a young girl once, too, you know. I’ve been there. Definitely had a few occasions where something happened and the people I thought would be there for me were completely AWOL when I needed them. I didn’t change myself, though. I changed my friends. That’s how you’re supposed to respond to something like that. You started doing that, I remember you telling me the last time we talked.”
Ms. Pickens was right. Although it had been almost a year since I’d actually sat down and talked to her like this, I did remember describing to her in one of our last talks how my “recovery process” over the summer after my second year involved cutting certain people out. People like Racquel and Robynne, whom I’d affectionately referred to as “Rock N’Robin” (like the song). That was when they were only just starting to build their “Buckhead clique” legacy. At the time, people like Je’Nah, who had been just as wild as I was our freshman year, and Graham, who had done me so wrong that I still had trouble getting over it.
“I did,” I admitted. “I did take some people out of my equation. Like Racquel and Robynne… at that time, back then, I didn’t realize that you really did get judged by the company you kept. But I’ve tried to be more forgiving even though I’m still selective of the people I call ‘friends.’ Like in terms of Graham- what?”
“What?” Ms. Pickens repeated back to me . I don’t know if she thought I was stupid or if she was trying to play me for a fool… but when I had said Graham’s name, something about her facial expression had changed. Either something flickered in her eyes, or she’d frowned slightly. It had only happened for a brief moment but I was certain my eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on me. You weren’t imagining it, Clare, I told myself. That really happened!… I think.
“Nothing, never mind. Anyway,” I continued, “like I have to work together with Graham since we’ve started this campaign to get advocacy together for the Office of African-American Student Services and Programs. And you know my history with Graham. It’s difficult, especially since he seems to be half-assing it sometimes. I worry that he puts his fraternity ahead of the work we need to do. But really, just because Graham lies at the center of all this.”
“How so?” Ms. Pickens asked. “I remember you telling me some of this story awhile back, but it’s been almost a year since I last saw you. Would you mind refreshing my memory?” I looked down at my Macchiato, took a sip of it. Lifting my eyes, but not my head, I once again scanned our surroundings outside of that Starbucks, making sure no one I recognized was around. She didn’t need to know the whole story, I reminded myself in my head. Just enough of it. Just enough for her to understand where Graham fits in all of this…
“Well, if I’m really honest with myself, Graham isn’t… maybe Graham isn’t as much to blame… as I’d like him to be.” It hurt to admit that. “Don’t get me wrong, he plays a role in why I feel the way I do now. But if in anything, it began with another Kappa. I know, I know, but let me finish. It began with a guy named Lloyd.”
***
We sat there next to each other in the waiting area of Gate 17, where Southwest Airlines flight 210 from Dallas to Atlanta would be taking off. Neither of us said a word to the other person. It was 1 PM on Tuesday afternoon. Kandyce’s flight was heading out at 1:30 PM and I had been determined not to let her leave me on a sour note, especially after last night.
In retrospect, I felt like I had overreacted. Last night, I had been both frustrated and horny as hell. I had wanted to get it out and had felt Kandyce needed to get her own frustration out, too. Sex would have been the easiest way for us to do that. When she had pushed me off of her… I don’t know. That just made me angrier. Usually, once I started getting her hot with the foreplay, K wouldn’t stop me and we’d go wild together.
I was angry at her and angry at my Pops and angry at Harley for even coming through. So in the middle of the night, I hit the road in the Range Rover to clear my head. Drove out to West End, the club district of downtown Dallas, and parked in one of the parking lots. Climbed onto the hood, leaned back and stared up at the moon and the stars. Searched for what seemed like hours for peace in that night sky. Didn’t find it, so at 4 in the morning, drove back to my parents’ place and crashed on the couch in the den. Woke up at one point with my hip feeling heavy and sore. Looked down and saw Kandyce’s head laying on top of it. Smiled and went back to sleep.
My mom and pops were both at work when Kandyce and I finally got up around 11. When I came out of the shower, I watched her pack up her suitcase, watched her fold every shirt and pair of pants, watched her ball up the outfit she’d worn to the club when we’d gone out Saturday night and set it apart from the rest of the clothes in there. All she said to me was, “Morning.” I returned the sentiment, and walked over to kiss her, but she turned her face away from me. That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day.
I opted to take Kandyce out to a quick lunch at the South Dallas Café before bringing her to the airport. I devoured my Chicken and Dumplings and watched Kandyce go in on some Short Ribs, and then we’d shared together some of the Café’s world-famous Peach Cobbler; yet during the whole lunch, Kandyce never talked to me. Then we’d gotten to the airport, and I briefly left Kandyce behind at the Gate 17 waiting area to go to the gift shop. At first, I was going to try to get her a bouquet of flowers, but I cancelled that thought out upon remembering she’d be on a plane for a minute. Instead, I bought her a box of her favorite candy – Milk Duds; and when I brought those back to her, she didn’t even respond. She just took them and nodded.
Now, as we sat there waiting for her flight to board, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like my Pops at dinner had set things up in a bad way and my actions last night put the nail in the coffin. I looked over at Kandyce, tried to read something, anything, in her blank expression. Damn, man, I thought. This can’t be it. Does this mean when we get back to GSU, Kandyce and I… NO. Don’t think like that, dawg. Don’t think like that.
And it was right when I was thinking that, that Kandyce put a hand on mine. Her lips parted like she had something to say. I waited patiently.
“Last sum-” She stopped abruptly to clear her throat, then continued. “Last summer, I went home for the break. Up until that point, I had been living on campus. I already told you before about my issues with my stepmother, Iris. Well, last summer, I told my parents that I’d be living off-campus and getting an apartment.” She started sniffling. “This is kind of hard.”
“Look, K,” I started, “You don’t have to do this.”
“No,” she said, looking me right in the eyes. “But I want to. And I need to. Where was I?… last summer, right?
“Well, I didn’t really join the family at like ‘family dinner’ at the table since about my sophomore year of high school. Just didn’t want to be in a position where drama or something might pop off between Iris and myself. But that particular day in May, I was really trying to be the bigger person and approach my dad and Iris, just to let them know I still respected them enough to hear their opinion on the matter. So I told them I was going to be getting an apartment, the one I have now, with Je’Nah and Clarity.
“I was on scholarship, but that alone was barely enough to make the monthly rent. In all honesty, I went to my dad and stepmom not only to get their blessing, but to basically say, ‘I’d like y’all’s help with this.’ At first, my dad seemed okay with it. He was like, ‘My little girl’s growing up, this is an excellent time for you to get that real living experience.’ Iris used my dad’s words against me, though.”
***
“This apartment seems to be Kandyce’s idea of ‘growing up,’ like you said, of being independent.” Iris had set her fork down on her plate and smiled at me sweetly. It amazed me to this day how much venom could be hidden in the kindest of faces.
“Well, if she wants to be independent, we should let her be,” Iris had stated simply. She looked at my father then. “I personally think, however, that in order for Kandyce to TRULY get to know what it’s like to be independent, you should cut her off.”
I’m sorry?! I remember thinking. “What?!” is what I actually said aloud. My eyes, as well as Koral’s, darted towards my father.
“Iris, babe, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he’d told her.
“I don’t see why not. Kalvin, you know as well as I do that money is very tight right now for us.”
“Ha, you wonder why,” I mumbled under my breath, and Iris shot daggers at me.
“What was that, Kandyce?” she’d asked.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“I thought so. Anyway… Kalvin, trying to help Kandyce pay for an apartment, MONTHLY, when we have our own bills and house note to pay for, my car note…” Iris tried to draw out damn near everything to make her case. “Think about it. We can’t afford that.” Then she turned to me. “Kandyce, it’s not fair of you to place that extra burden on your father and I. You get a scholarship, don’t you?”
“Yes, but-”
“Not to mention, Kalvin,” Iris had cut me off. “The young lady JUST spent money pledging that sorority earlier this spring. Clearly, she doesn’t care about how she’s spending and she won’t care as long as she feels like someone is there to help bail her out. Well, Kandyce, I say If you’re going to live in an apartment, then you need to find a way to keep things under your scholarship funds and such. If in anything, this will provide an excellent opportunity to teach you money management skills.”
“But, y’all!” I remember pleading. “Man… y’all, I have to buy books for classes, though! I intend on getting some kind of new clothes. And if I’m staying off campus, I’ll have to make groceries and stuff. My scholarship won’t pay for all of that!”
“You should have thought about that before you signed that lease for that apartment,” Iris had chastised me. “Looks to me like you’re going to need to find a job.”
“I- I agree.” I remember the words cutting through like a dagger in my back. In my heart, even. Many, many times, my father had taken Iris’s side over mine. Of all those times, this was probably the one that hurt the most.
“Kandy Cane, Iris is right. I really wish I could be able to help you, but the way our money is now, there’s no room for us to stand to give you anything.”
“Don’t say ‘us’ like that, Daddy! Not when you know damn well Iris doesn’t even work! She doesn’t contribute anything!”
“Kandyce Jasmyne White! You will not use that kind of language in my house, and you will definitely not talk to your stepmother like that!”
I remember my anger. I remember that being one of the few times I let my emotions get the best of me. For a long time after that – in fact, because of that – any time I got angry at something, I simply walked away. Only two times after that, had I actually “gone off” on someone; the most recent time, was when I’d fought with those “Buckhead clique” girls.
“Daddy, it’s true, though! Come on. I never ask y’all for ANYTHING, I’m just asking for y’all’s help this one time.”
“And what happens when the one time becomes a second?” Iris had prodded me. “And the second a third? Whenever there’s a one time, there’s ALWAYS another time. Kalvin, our daughter needs to learn that she can’t rely on us forever.” I remember it taking everything in me not to leap across the table and go after Iris. The only reason I didn’t was because of my dad.
“Kandyce, I’m sorry.” Daddy had said with finality. “I’m proud of you for taking this big step, and I support it in spirit, but I can’t support it financially. I would if I could, sweetheart, I hope you know that. Kandyce? Kandyce!”
“Your father’s talking to you, sweetie…”
I never heard was what said after that because by that time, I had already left the dinner table and was headed back upstairs to my room. I tore it apart since I felt torn apart. Threw my pillows and my bedsheet everywhere, tore down the framed pictures of myself and my friends that I’d had up on my bedroom walls.
***
I ended the story here for Graham’s sake. I was surprised to have gotten through it without crying like I did when I had told him about the childhood incident. Luckily, by that time, the announcement had gone out over the intercom that my flight was boarding.
“Now you know why last night hit so hard for me,” I’d told Graham as we both stood up from our seats in the waiting area. “Even the words y’all used… sounded the same. You wanted me to confront my past. There it is.” I guess Graham didn’t know what to say, so he simply wrapped his arms around me… and that said enough, honestly. I had fallen into his embrace willingly, so happy that the story was no longer mine to keep. He’d kissed me softly and walked me to the boarding ramp; when I’d reached the end of it, I turned back and blew a kiss at him, and he waved back at me. I would certainly miss him until we were reunited next week when school started back up again.
Sitting here on the plane now, though, the part I couldn’t tell Graham replayed itself in my head. I remembered struggling and hunting for a job as soon as school started last fall that would pay enough to support my bills and college expenses. I ran into the job in Ms. Pickens’ office almost immediately when I’d come back to GSU and moved in for summer school, but that was still chump change. I remembered the neon yellow flyer I’d seen on a campus kiosk just last July, the flyer that stood out because of its glaring color but also because of the big words printed on it.
NEED MONEY? WELL, WE NEED YOU! DANCERS NEEDED AT LOCAL NIGHTCLUB. GREAT PAY PLUS TIPS. CALL FOR DETAILS.
Of course, a message as vague as that was bound to have a catch. I wasn’t totally surprised that the number I’d called turned out to be for a strip club on the outskirts of Atlanta called The Creamy Peaches. What had surprised me, was how well I fit into the role. How quickly I learned from my tutor at the time, Willow, how to “work that pole,” how to slide down on it properly and use my body to effectively tease and seduce customers. How quickly the money came, especially counting the tips.. How Fat Joe’s song “Make It Rain” took on a whole new meaning for me personally. How I’d get mad on the slower nights and sometimes wonder if it had less to do with the crowd and more to do with the fact that I just wasn’t attractive.
“Oh, okay, I get it. So basically, the only reason you called me tonight was to get Stokely pity points,” Stokely had told me when I’d called him once last December. “So I could TELL you you’re beautiful since you let that stupid-ass job affect how you feel about yourself.” I’d told him in August, and Clarity later that September, but it was Stokely who I came to with my problems and insecurities about the job. At that point in time, he had still been angry with my decision. “I STILL don’t see why you couldn’t have looked into another job. Everybody’s hiring.”
“Stokely, I’m not working at nobody’s McDonald’s or Burger King, and they’re not going to pay me nearly enough,” I’d told him.
“Man… Kandyce, you could go work in the mall somewhere. Like in a jewelry store or in Hollister or something.”
“Stokely, there is NO way I’d be able to balance school plus three jobs.”
“Exactly. Which is why you quit the stripping one.” I’d laughed that off. “See, that’s what I’m saying. You just see the money right now. Haven’t you ever watched The Player’s Club? You’re going to end up getting caught up and not able to break away from there when you graduate!”
“You’re overreacting. Calm down, nigga.”
“Hey!” I laughed again, knowing I’d pushed his buttons.
Over the course of that semester, last semester, Stokely would get a few more after-work-calls like that from me, just because, yes, I had needed my pride and ego repaired. He would come to understand why I needed the job, although I’m sure to this day, he’d never accepted it. I was sure part of him still judged me for it. But he’d kept my secret. If you’re only as good as the company you keep, and the company you keep is a stripper… well, I wouldn’t go down that road. But there was something to be said about Stokely’s loyalty to me. He may have slept with my best friend, but at least he was always honest and holding me down.
No, I thought, as I reflected on all this while my plane tickled the clouds amidst the bright blue sky. No way Graham would take this as well as Stokely. This part of the story, Graham couldn’t know. In a way, it was funny. I knew my being a stripper, Graham would probably have a hard time getting over. I felt like it was something he’d not only judge me and leave me for, but that he’d also probably have trouble keeping under wraps.
For Stokely, though… I wouldn’t have expected any less. Stokely, I expected to be understanding and remain discreet and still stand by me. I could trust him with things I couldn’t even tell Je’Nah, as my line sister, or even Clarity, as my best girlfriend. My mind detoured.
What are you saying, Kandyce? You’d expect Graham to walk away… but Stokely, you’d expect him to stay?
I know, it doesn’t make sense. I wonder why, though. I wonder why Stokely’s still here. I wasn’t like Naomi, or even Clarity, people I’d consider more “his type.” I was just Kandyce. A stripper with issues.
Maybe a better question to ask, is which would affect you more.
Huh?
If Graham left you, or if Stokely didn’t stay? Which one could you handle? Which one couldn’t you take?
I fell asleep on the plane before I could answer my own question. Maybe that was a good thing.
