Flaws and All

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Authors: Shana Burton

BOOK: Flaws and All
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Flaws and all
Shana Burton
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Dedication
 
This book is dedicated to my brother, Matthew
Watkins. I'm so proud to have you as my brother.
It's also dedicated to Deirdre Neeley, my “ride or
die chick” who accepts me—flaws and all.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, all praises go to God. Lord, you are my everything. I would've lost my mind a long time ago if I couldn't feel your presence. Through you, I'm blessed, I have peace, and I'm whole. Your love, grace, and mercy are always sufficient.
I would like to thank my family for keeping me covered with your prayers and your love. To Shelman: Through our marriage, I have learned that true love “bears all things” and how to love unconditionally. Having you in my life has made me a better person, and you will always be in my heart.
I thank my kids, Shannon and Trey, for adding so much joy and fulfillment in my life. You give me a reason to wake up every morning. I love you to pieces!
To my mother, Myrtice C. Johnson, who never stops fighting for me: I love you more than I could ever say. You're my bestest friend (smile).
To my father, James L. Johnson, Sr.: Thank you for challenging me in ways no one else dares to. Your intelligence and wisdom never cease to amaze me.
To my sister, Myrja Fuller: I admire you so much. Your strength and unwavering faith help me to be stronger. I know that you and Eric have never stopped praying for my family or for me, and I thank you.
To my little brothers, Jay and Matthew: Thank you for letting me be silly. You're both wonderful examples for your sons and nephews to follow.
I am so thankful that the Lord has surrounded me with so many wonderful people outside of family. The bonds between us transcend mere friendship.
To Demetrius Hollis: Since our GSU days at the Union Station, you have been my friend, brother, and the one person who will always tell me like it is with no sugar and no chasers. I consider you family.
To my two best friends, Deirdre Neeley and Theresa Tarver: You have taught me what it means to be a true friend. Thank you for always having my back.
To “Nottie Scottie”: Thank you so much for all you do to support me and keep my books on the shelves in Louisiana.
To Andra Klyvert and Annie Stokes: I don't know what I did to ever deserve so much support and encouragement from the two of you, but I'm very grateful to have you in my life.
To Jimmy: thank you for being a real friend and a silver lining on those dark-cloud days.
To Millard: Who knew that a chance meeting in high school would lead to a whole book? Thanks for letting me take our story and run with it.
To my little sisters: Ashlei Cason, Brandy Whis-by, Telea Thomas, Tashea Bryant and Cymphony Dawkins: You're not full-blown fabulous yet, but you're getting there! Keep pursuing your dreams and your writing. You make me so proud, and you inspire me as much as I've inspired you.
To my good friend Brian Harmon: Thank you for “getting” me and why I'm so passionate about my craft. I'm still impatiently waiting for
The Adventures of Blackman
to be introduced to the world.
To Aaliyah James: Thank you for making me laugh even when I don't want to. You're exactly what I need to stay sane when everything and everybody else is going crazy.
To my Urban Christian family: Thank you so much for all of the encouraging words, tips, and fellowship. I couldn't ask to be in better company. Joy and Kendra, I know I gave you more than one headache revising this book, but I appreciate your patience and your honest criticism. I know whatever you tell me is only to make me a stronger writer.
To my publicist, Dee Stewart: Thank you for taking a chance on me and using your gifts and connections to bless me.
To Christa Rumph: Thank you for always coming through for me no matter how last minute I am. You have been a great business contact and an even better friend.
Thank you to my radio show co-host, Rod English, for making me feel comfortable enough to tell all my business on the air, and to Lady T for giving me the opportunity.
To Dwarka: There are so many words to describe what you mean to me, but I'll start with thanks for being a part of my life. Much love!
To my readers: I couldn't do this without you. I feel so honored to have your support. Publishing my work was enough for me, but having people respond so well to my books has been a blessing I never expected. Thank you to all of the reviewers and book clubs that have supported me since
Suddenly Single
. I know that it's loyal readers like you who enable me to do what I love and make a living from it. A special thanks goes to the following book clubs: Sisterhood, Mahogany Yells, Positive Minds, Ladies of Legacy, Words of Inspiration, Virtuous Woman, OOSA, Sista Talk, Readers With Attitude, and Women of Character. Much love to all of my Facebook friends as well (Hi, Chiquita, Donyella, and Tashia!)
To whoever reads this book: I pray that it makes you laugh, cry, and ministers to some part of your life.
Feel free to contact me at [email protected], and let me know your thoughts. Be blessed and be a blessing to someone else.
 
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
It's My Party . . .
 
Reginell Kerry sauntered into her sister's dining room and declared for all to hear, “Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not crazy and I'm not a slut!” The cocoa-skinned beauty inserted a cigarette between her lips with one hand and dug into her patent leather tote bag for a lighter with the other. The three other pairs of eyes in the room looked up at her. Clearly, Reginell had overheard them tossing out phrases like “must've lost her mind” and “belongs on a street corner” to describe the barely-there zebra-print mini-skirt and black halter top covering her svelte frame.
“I said the outfit was cute. It's just that the skirt is a little short for my liking,” explained Reginell's soft-spoken cousin, Kina Battle. “Then again, what would I look like trying to stuff these size twenty hips and thighs into something like that?”
“Kina, you used to wear 'em just as short back in the day,” recalled Reginell. “Anyway, you hags are just jealous because you're too old and religious to get away with wearing this.”
“Is that so?” asked Reginell's older sister, Lawson. “All this time, I thought that it was because we were too classy and sophisticated to show our privates in public. Besides, the Bible says that women should ‘adorn themselves in modest apparel, ' and
modesty
is the last word that comes to mind when I see you prancing around in zebra stripes and—” She squinted her eyes. “Are those my open-toed Mary Janes strapped around your ashy feet?”
Reginell rolled her eyes. Having found a lighter, she stared into the leaping flame for a few seconds. “When you were little, walking around in your mother's pearls and high heels, did you think your life would turn out like this?” She lit her cigarette, took a pull, and blew out a cloud of smoke. “God knows I didn't.”
“Let me see . . .” Spoiled housewife Sullivan Webb gazed at her butter-pecan reflection in her compact. “I'm richer than any of you will ever be, my husband is one of the most powerful preachers in Savannah, and on a good day, I can still squeeze into my high school majorette uniform. So, yes, my life is exactly how I imagined it would be!” She snapped the makeup case shut. “You, on the other hand, Reggie, chose to drop out of college, run to New York and after your imaginary music career, so you shouldn't be at all surprised that your life has turned into the mess we all know it as today.”
Reginell puffed smoke in Sullivan's direction to show indifference. She pointed at Angel King's four-inch stilettos as Angel scuttled by carrying a thickly-frosted birthday cake. “Those things are going to kill you, you know.”
Angel, the resident nurse and health nut, set Reginell's birthday cake down on the dining room table and fanned Reginell's smoke away from her face. “And
those
things are going to kill you!”
“Or us, for inhaling them,” added Sullivan and snatched the cigarette out of Reginell's mouth.
“What are you doing?” cried Reginell.
Sullivan crushed the cigarette into an ashtray. “You may think that these cancer sticks make you look all grown and sexy, but don't suffocate the rest of us with your secondhand smoke.”
“You mean I can smoke and suffocate you at the same time?” Reginell gave Sullivan two thumbs up. “Finally, a plan we can all agree on.”
“Ladies, there will be none of that today,” sang Lawson as she punctured the cake with dainty white candlesticks. “And, Sully, cut the girl some slack, it's her birthday.”
Reginell lit up another cigarette. “Thank you.”
This time, Lawson swiped it. “Girl, are you crazy? You know I don't allow smoking in my house.”
“I believe this is
Mama's
house,” Reginell snidely informed her sister.
Lawson raised an eyebrow. “Well, she left it to me when she died, didn't she?”
“Yeah, 'cause you and Namon didn't have nowhere else to go when your rich baby's daddy kicked you to the curb,” grumbled Reginell, setting her lighter on the table.
“
Reggie!
” scolded Kina in a harsh whisper.
Lawson flung her wrist, dismissing Reginell's remark. “It's all right, Kina. There ain't a soul in this room who doesn't know Mark was a one-night stand who left me barefoot and pregnant when I was sixteen, so I don't know who she thinks she's hurting by bringing it up now.”
“Yes, but just because we all
know
about it doesn't mean we all want to be
reminded
of it,” noted Sullivan as she swept her lips with a coat of lip gloss. Her eyes zoomed in on Kina's chubby fingers stealthily removing one of the candles from the cake. She licked the residual frosting and eased the candle back in place. “Kina, that is disgusting! Take that thing out!”
Kina seemed to crawl inside herself as all eyes shifted to her, caught in the act. Her olive skin turned beet red, and her hazel eyes fell downcast. “I was hungry,” she whimpered. “I'm sorry, Reggie.”
Sullivan exhaled. “Kina, if you're not going to stick to your diet, why keep going through the trouble of working with Angel? That's time she could be spending on patients who are actually serious about losing weight.”
Angel smiled and gave Kina a tight squeeze. “Sullivan, chill out. It's just a little frosting. Pressuring and insulting her isn't going to make the weight come off any faster. And, Kina, while I know it's tempting to cheat, you've got to stick to that diet regimen I gave you. Kenny needs his mother healthy. We can't lose you over something as preventable as being overweight, got it? Nurse's orders!”
“The nurse needs to order her to get that germ-infested candle out of the cake,” interjected Sullivan.
Reginell sat down in the designated birthday seat. “Dang, Sullivan, why do you have to be such a witch all the time? It's my party and my cake. Kina can lick every last candle for all I care.”
“While it's no secret that you're not too particular about who or what goes in and out of your mouth,” Sullivan spitefully retorted, in reference to Reginell's serial dating, “some of us tend to be a little more selective.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Reginell balked.
Sullivan gave her the once-over. “Do you honestly believe that there's anybody in this house—anybody in this state—who doesn't know you sleep around?”
Reginell narrowed her eyes. “And is there anybody in this city who doesn't know that you'll sell it to the highest bidder? We all know that's how you landed Charles and the church's hefty bank account.”
Lawson clapped her hand over her sister's mouth. “Hey, watch out now. I can't have you two fighting in here. You know I just had these floors stripped.”
Reginell slung Lawson's hand away. “I get so sick of her always coming in here trying to start something. You've got one more time to say something disrespecting me, Sully, and it's on!” threatened Reginell.
Sullivan spread a cloth napkin out over her lap. “You do an excellent job of disrespecting yourself without any help from me.”
Reginell pounded her left fist into her right hand and backed away from the table. “That's it!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” barked Angel, holding Reginell back. “I'm not about to be mopping up blood from the two of you on my one day off. Go back to your corners!”
“Sully, why do you have to say things like that?” whined Kina, cradling Reginell in her pudgy arms. “You know she's sensitive.”
“Kina, Reggie is a big girl. In fact, that's what we're here to celebrate, right?” asked Lawson, lighting the candles. She smiled. “Wow, my baby sister is twenty-one years old today.”
“Okay, who's going to sing?” asked Kina, hoping to be nominated.
“Let's just skip the song and go right to the birthday wish,” said Reginell.
Lawson clasped her hands together. “All right, baby girl, make your wish!”
Reginell closed her eyes. She couldn't endure another year like the one she'd just gone through. Good things were bound to happen for her this year. She crossed her fingers underneath the table and blew out all twenty-one candles, praying that this time, this year, would be different. The ladies all applauded and cheered.
“So, what did you wish for?” probed Kina, already carving out a huge chunk of cake. She cut her eyes toward Angel, whose gaze was convicting enough to make Kina put half of it back.
“The same thing I've been wishing for since I was old enough to talk,” Reginell replied. “I wanna sing.”
“You can do that in the shower,” said Sullivan. “Isn't it about time you started wishing for a real career?”
“I
wish
you'd get off my back. How about doing that?” uttered Reginell.
“And I wish you'd
stay
off yours!” returned Sullivan. “Try doing that.”
“Lawson, can't you stop them for going on like this?” asked Angel in an exasperated plea.
Lawson helped herself to a slice of cake. “Girl, I can't control what's been almost two decades in the making. They've been like this ever since Sullivan stepped on Reggie's Easter basket when she was three and crushed all her eggs.”
“I remember that,” recalled Kina with a laugh. “Reggie cried all weekend.”
Reginell drove a fork through her slice of birthday cake. “Crushing eggs, crushing dreams . . . it's all the same to you, isn't it, Sully?”
“Pipe dreams, like eggs, are made to be broken.”
“It's not a pipe dream!” countered Reginell and sucked her teeth. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”
Sullivan concurred, “My sentiments exactly.”
“Can you stop fussing long enough for us to open the presents?” asked Lawson.
“Oh, you better get used to all this bickering now that you're going to be dealing with it on a daily basis, Miss Teacher,” piped in Angel.
“
Please!
It's either teach or go back to bagging pregnancy tests and toilet paper at Pick-n-Pay. Besides, I expect high school students to be emotional and high strung.” Lawson pointed at Sullivan and Reginell. “Only God knows what
their
excuse is.”
Reginell sulked. “See? Nobody ever criticizes Lawson for following her dream of being a teacher, so why do you all have to crap all over my dream of becoming a singer?”
Angel touched Reginell's hand. “There's nothing wrong with wanting a career in music, but the reality is that very few people actually become platinum-selling artists. Pursue something that's within reach. Dream big, but dream feasibly.”
Kina nodded, cosigning on Angel's statement. “Look at me. The only dream I ever had was to be E'Bell's wife and Kenny's mother. I knew that was something I could do, and I did it.”
Sullivan was baffled. “Are you bragging or complaining?”
“Sully, Kina's a wonderful wife and mother, and that's enough for her,” said Lawson.
“Well, even E'Bell's a step up from the felons that Reggie has dragged in over the past few years,” replied Sullivan.
“Please, not again!” pleaded Angel. “Break out the prayer cloths . . . or the liquor!”
Lawson pulled out a bottle of Merlot from the buffet. “Here. Maybe if they're tipsy enough they'll stop arguing.”
“At the very least, if
we're
tipsy enough, we won't care.” Angel popped off the cap and filled her glass. “Drink up, Reggie. You can do it legally now.”
Reginell passed her flute to Sullivan. “Sully, will you do me the honors? I want my first drink to be poured by someone who's no stranger to emptying a bottle of wine.”
Lawson issued an ominous glare. “Reggie . . .”
Reginell smiled wickedly at Sullivan. “What? We all know that Sullivan has never met a drink she didn't like.”
“The Bible says that a little wine is good for the belly,” rationalized Sullivan. “There's nothing wrong with having a social drink every now and then.”
“Yeah, it's when you drink every day like you do that it's classified as a problem,” contended Reginell.
Angel groaned. “I can see where this is going. Was I the only one paying attention to Charles's sermon last week when he reminded everybody that the Lord instructed us to live peaceably with one another?”
“Amen,” said Kina. “Try to get along for the next couple of hours, at least. This is supposed to be a party, remember?”
Lawson wiped her mouth. “And we can't celebrate this joyous occasion without giving thanks and praise where it's due.”
“To God be the glory!” acclaimed Angel.
Lawson stood up. “Come here, li'l sister. Let us pray over you.” The ladies all circled around Reginell and pointed their hands toward her with bowed heads. “Lord, we praise and uplift your name, and we come today thanking you for your many blessings and for everyone in this room.

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