Homecoming Weekend (19 page)

“Don't get upset,” Carter said. “Don't get offended. What do you expect me to think? You haven't told me shit. All—”

“Don't curse at me, Carter,” she interjected. “I don't care how mad you get, don't get disrespectful. You know I don't like that.”

“I'm not trying to disrespect you,” he said. “I'm just making a point. Please don't play the victim role, like you're being attacked. You've told—”

“So you're not going to apologize?”

“I'm sorry, Barbara. I wasn't trying to disrespect you,” he said. “What I'm saying is all you have told me is that you're moving to New York and that being with me was a part of the reason. What am I supposed to get out of that? That you did it for the kids?
Please
.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “So you do think I'm selfish. I detest
selfishness in people and no one has ever said or even intimated that I am selfish. But—”

“Oh, wait a minute, Barbara,” Carter said, interrupting her. “Now, listen, I don't want to insult you. But no one could call you selfish because you probably haven't told anyone about what you've been doing with me for the last five years. If a married woman coming to homecoming once a year to have sex with her old boyfriend isn't selfish, then what is? You surely weren't doing it for your kids? Who, exactly, were you doing it for if it wasn't for you?”

Barbara was seething, so much so that tears rolled down her face. She was embarrassed and insulted—plain hurt.

“I did it for my sanity,” she said calmly, wiping her face. “I married a good man, but a man who was not for me, a man who did not give me any joy. I know that life is short and we must find the joy in it. To be in a joyless situation was empty and awful. And I needed some small amount of joy to feel better about myself, so I could be the mother to my children that I needed to be and, believe it or not, a better wife.

“I found that joy over two days with you. It was enough to sustain me, to bring me back to a place where I could function with some clarity and feeling something good in my heart. I know that's a conflict because I was so disappointed in myself every time; I knew I was doing wrong based on my marital commitment. There is no way around that. But I was not just out here being a whore. There were times when I really felt depressed and on the edge of insanity, and in those times, I was not what I needed to be to my kids.

“This probably doesn't make sense to you or wouldn't to anyone else. You'd have to go through what I have to understand. So, I'm mad that you think I'm selfish, but I see how you could see
that. I don't see it that way. I see me as someone trying to get through life. And here's the important part: I never slept with anyone else. Only with you, once a year during homecoming weekend. I swear.

“And I'm not saying you should be honored or anything. I'm just saying that I chose you for two reasons: I love you and you love me. We were young when we started, but what we had was real. And I know it was real because it has stayed with me all these years. But anyway . . . ”

Carter was not sure what to do or say. Their initial plan, before she dropped the news on him, was for them to go to the all-black party, enjoy seeing old classmates and then spend the night together, as always. But neither of them was feeling particularly romantic after such a heavy conversation.

“So, what's the plan for the rest of the night?” he asked.

“I don't think I'm up to the party,” she said. “I think I'll call Donna and we'll get something to eat. Or maybe I'll order room service and watch a movie. I'm kinda drained right now.”

“I'm sorry, Barbara,” Carter said. “I really am. I definitely don't want to cause you any drama. But I knew you wanted me to be honest with you. And I needed to be honest with you and myself.”

“Okay,” was all she said to that, a clear indication to Carter that she wasn't feeling him.

“Okay,” Carter said. “Well, I'll let you go. Wait, weren't we supposed to go to the parade in the morning?”

“Well, we were supposed to go to the party tonight, too, Carter,” she said. “In my mind, we were supposed to be happy and enjoying each other and talking about how wonderful things will be in New York for both of us. But I guess I can't get everything I want, right? I'll just settle for a nice dinner right now. I can manage that without anyone spoiling it.”

Carter was troubled by Barbara's state. He had never heard her in distress about him. They always existed in harmony, even as young students on a campus of soap opera drama.

But he did not—or was not willing—to do or say anything to help her feel better.

“Okay, well, have a great dinner,” he said.

Barbara did not respond. She pushed a button to end the phone call.

Venita, Jesse and Don

v
enita tossed around the idea of seeing her ex-boyfriend, Charles, for dinner and drinks. She
wanted
to see him, to see how he looked, how he was doing, how life had been for him.
It could do no harm
, she thought. She would not go to bed with him, even though her body might say something entirely different.

But Venita was unlike most people. She was honest with herself. She knew that if she spent any amount of time with Charles and the chemistry they had resurfaced, she would be weak against his advances.

She also knew Charles had been divorced a few years and was among the biggest flirts she had ever experienced. It was the reason they did not make it in college. He was sensational in bed, but he liked to be in as many beds of as many women as possible. For a while, being young and whipped was fine. As long as she did not know of Charles' escapades, she was content. The physical feeling he gave her was so good that she abandoned all logic.

As a mature woman of the world, she knew she needed more in a mate. And she knew herself. Given the right time and place, she was subject to have one more go-round with Charles, not out of love, but out of that need for vigorous, intense sex that her husband, a fine man, was not providing.

When she thought of her husband back at home, though, she let go the idea of putting herself in a vulnerable position with Charles. She was not naïve; she knew her being away meant her husband had time to do his thing, if he so chose.

But she decided she should conduct herself as she would rather her husband would when she was away. And so, although heavily tempted, she called her niece, Diamond, instead. And although only twenty, she gave her aunt some mature advice when Venita told her of what she had considered.

“Don't do it, auntie,” she said.

And that was that. Diamond and Venita went to California Pizza Kitchen at MacArthur Mall downtown. They ate at the counter, catching up on family news, which always was interesting.

After nearly an hour of talking about Uncle Derwin's death; cousin Paul's third wife in four years, who is a closet alcoholic; and how Aunt Macy had bought a stolen car from her brother, Venita decided to move on.

“So, how are you, really, Diamond?” she asked her niece. “You look great. But I know this is a different experience for you. How do you like it?”

Diamond was the daughter of Venita's brother, Raheem, who had one year left on an eight-year sentence for armed robbery. Raheem was not always a criminal. He, in fact, was once a hard-working mechanic who doted on his little girl. He named her Diamond, he said, “because I like the phrase ‘Diamond in the rough.' There will be some rough times, I'm pretty sure. But my baby will always shine.”

He was right. He had lost his job behind an insatiable desire for vodka, developed when he couldn't handle learning that his love, wife Saundra, had been diagnosed with the debilitating multiple sclerosis. Diamond was almost thirteen, with a father in
prison and her mom becoming less and less able to get around as the disease took over.

At that vulnerable age, the family worried Diamond would crack. And for a minute, she did. She was distraught watching her mother's health deteriorate and dismayed that her “Papa” was incarcerated—he had held up a suburban Washington, D.C., liquor store in an attempt to get money for Diamond to enroll in a summer camp in Maine.

Her attitude changed; she became petulant, which was opposite her sunny nature. She skipped school and sought the attention of boys who walked like ducks because their pants hug below their hips—another dramatic change.

It was not until she finally visited her father in prison that she returned to the Diamond that was the shining light of the family.

Her dad's words were piercing. “Diamond,” he said, sitting across the table from her, “do you know why I named you what your name is? Because a diamond sparkles. It can get covered in mud, but when you brush it off, it shines again. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. I couldn't handle your mom getting sick and it got me here. I'm sorry for one reason: I can't be out there with you and your mother. You two are all that matter to me. But since I'm in here, I can't be what I need your mom needs me to be. So, baby, it's up to you. You have to shine now. You have to be the beautiful Diamond we know you are.”

Tears rolled down her face as her father spoke. And his, too. They hugged a long hug and all the nonsense that enveloped her life for several months was discarded. With Venita and other family members helping, Diamond went on to graduate from Crossland High in Suitland, Maryland with honors and attended William & Mary.

After a year at the Williamsburg, Virginia college, she decided
to transfer to Norfolk State after a friend at rival Hampton University took her to NSU for a basketball game.

“I'm doing great, auntie,” she said to Venita. “William and Mary had its place for me. It served a purpose for me—it let me know I needed to be somewhere else.”

They laughed. “Don't get me wrong,” she added. “I enjoyed the people and the campus is beautiful. But it didn't feel like home. I was away, my daddy was away, and my mom was far away from who she was.

“So I needed to be somewhere where I could feel some love. You know how it is over here; we aren't as organized as we should be. But the administration cares. It's not about getting the money or you go home. It's about figuring out how to keep you in school to get that degree. So, it's been a great change.”

“I'm so happy to hear that,” Venita said. “It's definitely a shame that there are still long lines at registration and the financial aid office and even housing. I guess we'll never get that right. But the plusses outweigh the minuses because, above all, you feel like a family. Everyone might not get along—like in a traditional family—but there's a feeling of love and caring that you cannot get at a non-HBCU school.”

“Having been to a non-HBCU, as you put it, I know clearly the differences,” Diamond said. “It works for some people. But it wasn't for me overall.”

“Yeah, well, you listed all your reasons for loving Norfolk State,” Venita said, “but I ain't heard you say nothing about boys and parties. I know that's a big part of why you're so happy.”

Diamond smiled a smile that revealed something. Venita wanted to know what.

“Well,” her niece said, “I have been dating this guy. He's great, wonderful, treats me well. I want you to meet him.”

“Yeah, well, I want to meet him, too, so we have to make sure that happens,” Venita said, sounding like an overprotective parent.

“Auntie, I'm twenty, I'll be twenty-one pretty soon,” she said. “You don't have to treat me like some sheltered little girl. Those days are over.”

Venita looked over her young niece, who was gorgeous. Diamond was five-foot-seven with curves like a street in San Francisco and flowing mid-length hair, sparkly eyes and a toothy smile. In the vernacular of her peers, she was a “dime piece.” But there was so much more to her. The fact that she bypassed the step show and homecoming parties to dine with her aunt said a lot about her.

“I worry about you because you are so cute and innocent,” Venita said. “And if you're not ready, college can grow you up in a hurry.”

“I know, Aunt Venita,” Diamond said. “I'm dealing with . . . well, something pretty crazy right now myself.”

“Really?” Venita asked. “What is it?”

“I don't know if I should say,” Diamond said.

“Girl, you better tell your auntie what's going on,” Venita demanded as delicately as possible.

“Auntie,” she said, her voice low. The expression on her face changed, alarming Venita.

She reached over and grabbed her niece's hands. “It's okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay,” Venita said.

Diamond lowered her head and shook it side-to-side. “Well, I'm dealing with a pregnancy issue,” she said.

“What?” Venita said loudly, pulling her hands away from Diamond's.

“Diamond, we should have been talking about this all along,” Venita added. “Girl, you are just twenty years old with your whole future in front on you. I wasn't naïve enough to think you're a
virgin. But how in the world could you get pregnant in this day and age?”

Diamond quickly raised her head.

“Auntie,” she said. “I'm not pregnant. How did you get that?”

“How did I get that? You said you have a ‘pregnancy issue,'” Venita said. “That sure as hell sounds like you're pregnant to me.”

“No, my roommate, Janea, is pregnant,” Diamond said. “Pregnant? Me? No way.”

“Oh, don't act like it can't happen. It definitely can,” Venita said.

“Well, one day I would like to have children. Maybe. But I can't think about that now,” Diamond said. “Not for a long time.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Venita said. “I thought my heart was about to jump out of my chest.”