I Gave Him My Heart (6 page)

I crept my way up to Nina’s room. I almost had a heart attack at the sight of my cousin, sitting up in her bed, with an inch of curly hair on her head, staring outside of her bedroom window.

“Boo?” I called out to her, walking into her room, closing the door behind me.

              Nina turned her head, looking at me. Her eyes lit up, and she sat all the way up in the bed. “Kourtney!” She cried out as I made my way over to her.

I threw my arms around my cousin, running my fingers through her curls. I kissed the top of her head, looking down at her short hair. She had always had so much hair on her head. Damn near three-feet of hair when her curls were straightened. But at that point, she sat there looking like a chocolate Betty Boop. I wanted to punch the shit out of our parents for what they were doing to her.

“They took my baby!” Nina cried out.

I just looked at her, lips trembling, not even sure what to say to my cousin. I assumed by that statement that my mother was telling the truth, that Nina really knew that Aunt Rayna had given London to her willingly. It wasn’t until I was fuckin’ thirty-one that I found out that Nina had no idea where her daughter was.

***

“Ummm, Nina, how long has Aunt Toni been putting comet in the fridge?” I asked, watching Aunt Toni taking a tube of Comet out of the refrigerator and sprinkling the shit on top of her plate of spaghetti like it was parmesan cheese or some shit.

Nina glanced at Aunt Toni and then looked back at me, trying her best not to laugh at her aunt. “Girl, don’t pay her any mind.” Nina leaned forward, whispering, “She’s been doing this shit for three got-damn years. I had to empty out every tube of Comet in the house and actually put parmesan cheese in them, so she won’t kill herself!”

I shook my head.

When Nina moved to North Carolina, I went to visit my boo every year for three years. When I graduated high school in 2002, I moved to North Carolina to help her take care of Aunt Toni. I was there a year before I saw any signs of Toni’s mental illness. They had just switched her medication, and that was probably what got her going that day. Or maybe she sensed something crazy was about to happen.

Uncle Timothy Mack was staying with them then. That bastard hated the fuck out of me. He said I was too sassy and had too much mouth. He hated the way I dressed. Hated the way I went out every night. Hated the fact that, as soon as I stepped on Goldsboro’s scene, I jumped straight into the dating scene. He said I was a bad influence on Nina. Said she’d been doing good those three years that I wasn’t around. I ran out of fucks to give about that nigga’s opinion after a few months. And long as Aunt Toni loved me, I could give a fuck about her husband. She knew her niece needed me around.

“Okay, Aunt Toni,” I sighed, getting up from the table, going over to where Aunt Toni stood at the counter top, eating her spaghetti. “I have some fried chicken in the refrigerator. Do you want me to warm it up for you?”

Aunt Toni grinned. “Sure, baby.”

I looked down at her mismatched house slippers and then back up into that pretty face of hers. She walked back over to the table where Nina was sitting and sat down across from her, flipping through the newspaper. She needed help, but Uncle Timothy’s punk ass refused to admit that his wife had a problem.

Both Nina and I were enrolled at East Carolina University, both majoring in Business Administration. Nina had a concentration in Entrepreneurship, and I minored in Marketing. We planned on opening our own tattoo shop and were saving up to do so upon graduation. Nina was a year ahead of me in college; ya know, since she graduated high school a year before I did. I had to take classes during the summer just to catch up with my boo. She was doing the damn thing, dealing with her own mental issues, as well as her aunt’s, and maintaining straight-A’s in school. To celebrate Nina passing her Finance midterm, I surprised her with dinner that night. I went all out; I’d made barbequed chicken, fried chicken, spaghetti, meatballs, deviled eggs, garlic bread, house salad, strawberry lemonade pound cake, and sock-it-to-me cinnamon streusel cake. Yeah, a bitch could cook. And no, I didn’t learn it from Mama. I learned it from practicing with Nina. When you’re a young girl left home at night while your mama is out dating, you have to teach yourself to take care of yourself.

My cell phone rang on my hip. I unclipped it from my shorts and looked at the display. It was Niq’s ass. I rolled my eyes, silencing my phone, clipping the phone back to my shorts. “This muthafucka.” I mumbled to myself.

Nina laughed a little, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Niq’ calling again?”

“Yes, and it’s the fifth got-damn time today!” I exclaimed. “The nigga needs to get a life and leave me the fuck alone.”

Nina shook her head. “Remember, it was you who left him and not the other way around?”

I looked up at her, taking the plate of chicken out of the refrigerator.

Niq’ was everything to everyone in those days, I’m serious. He was playing basketball and got accepted to all five schools that he applied to. I mean, there were so many colleges outside of those that were begging him to attend their school. He was a poor nigga from the hood whose athletic skills were like no other those schools had ever seen. At the time, Nina was really going through it. One of the schools that wanted Niq’ was Duke University. I was so hyped because, since I was already contemplating going to live with my boo, Duke was the perfect choice. My man and I could get a place near the university and still go see Nina whenever we chose. But Niq’ didn’t see my vision. At his last game, scouts from all over the country came to see Niq’ play. And guess who else showed up to see Niq’ play? Peanut’s ass. She showed up to the game with his twins. So you already know which school Niq’ decided to roll with. He ended up deciding to go to UCLA. He said he wanted to be closer to his kids. I didn’t even give the nigga the chance to mention that long-distance relationship bullshit. I broke up with his ass from the moment he said he wasn’t leaving California. I knew he had a commitment to his kids, but I missed my cousin.

“He’s probably dating Peanut again.” I smacked my lips, unwrapping the foil from the plate of chicken. “Have you seen Peanut’s cousin’s website for her new clothing line called Religious? She’s got pictures of that nigga all over that muthafucka.” I shook my head.

Nina scoffed, watching me toss the plate of chicken into the microwave. “Well, duh, shit, he’s a got-damn basketball player, Kourtney! Having him as a model will most definitely get their product line noticed. Kourtney, you’re trippin’.”

I looked at her as I put the microwave timer on three minutes. I never told the girl that I left the boy because he was putting his needs before mine. He knew I missed Nina. There were plenty of nights that I called him up, crying because I missed her. There were plenty of nights that I held London in my arms, crying, just looking at her because she reminded me of the fun I had that summer with Nina and Ricque’s crew. I knew Niq’ wanted to be around his kids, but he was pissing me off because he was letting Peanut use his kids as leverage. Whenever she called him, asking him to do anything, he always would. Why? Because if he didn’t, the bitch would tell him she was going to take his ass to court. She knew that nigga was going to be rich one day. Child support was something he didn’t want to get stuck with, so whatever the bitch needed, he gave it to her, whether it involved the kids or not. He swore up and down that he wasn’t having sex with her, but it was only a matter of time. I was tired of playing second to her. At first, I didn’t mind Niq’ stopping by the bitch’s house from time to time to see the kids. He really loved those little girls. And Peanut knew it, too. Peanut didn’t know anything about my relationship with her baby daddy, and after a while, I started to feel like the side chick. The bitch would call the nigga over at all times of the night, claiming that one of the twins couldn’t sleep if he didn’t sing her to sleep. So, when Niq’ said he wanted to stay in California, I chucked up the deuces on the nigga.

Aunt Toni held the newspaper up to her face. “Ricque Cole is going to be Charlotte in two weeks!” she exclaimed, winking at me. She lowered the paper to see the “really, Aunt Toni?” expression on Nina’s face.

I laughed out loud. “We rollin’ or what, Nina?”

Nina looked at me like she wanted to smack my head from my body. “Y’all are both trippin’.”

I looked at her, laughter subsiding a little. I knew the reason why she avoided Ricque. That girl wanted that boy more than anything. We were nineteen-years-old. She hadn’t seen or heard from that boy in four years. He stayed away to protect her from his ruthless family, but she stayed away from him to protect her secret. She didn’t want him to know she’d had an abortion, unknowingly pregnant with twins, killing one, leaving the other disabled. Don’t think that girl wouldn’t walk all the way to Charlotte to see that boy if that was what it took. When that boy left her, he took a piece of her with him. He’d awakened something in that girl from the first time she saw his face in person. I felt bad for my cousin, and I even felt bad for Ricque. Just about every song that he wrote had something to do with his encounter with Nina. And he was still showing off that tattoo he got back in 1998 that had her signature underneath it. He still loved her. The nigga had released three albums in those four years, and he dedicated every last album to his “Little Nina.”

“It’s not your fault what happened to those babies, honey.” Aunt Toni sat the newspaper down on the dinner table.

Nina just looked at her aunt. “How is it not my fault, Aunt Toni?”

Aunt Toni shook her head at her niece, eying her niece’s short, curly tresses. She remembered Nina’s long, intense mane just like I did. Five years had gone by, and Nina’s hair had grown to meet her chin. It was super cute, but it still wasn’t what it was back in San Diego.

“Your bitch-ass mama is the one who made you have that abortion, Nina.” Aunt Toni watched Nina shake her head. “She made you give up that baby! She was your mother; you had no choice than to do what she said! This woman has abused you all of your life! Do you know how long I’ve been asking your parents for you? I’ve been asking for you ever since you were three-years-old, and I went to visit you for Christmas. You had a black and blue handprint wrapped around your arm, Nina! I damn near tried to snatch your mama’s head from her shoulders that day! Every holiday that I came to visit, you had a new bruise. Your father got tired of his own issues that he had going on with your mama, and he left you in that bullshit. I couldn’t take it! When I saw you sitting there in that hospital in England, looking like your soul had left your body, I knew enough was enough.” Toni grabbed her niece’s hand, holding it in hers.

Nina cried out loud. “Aunt Toni, I shouldn’t have had that abortion. I should have stood up to her.”

“Baby, we all make mistakes.” Aunt Toni tried telling her.

Nina slipped her hand from Aunt Toni’s. “Yeah? Well, my mistake left one dead, one disabled, and one not knowing what the hell I did to his babies!” Nina got up from the table.

“Baby, you didn’t finish your food!” Aunt Toni called out to Nina’s back as Nina left out of the kitchen.

“I lost my appetite, Aunt Toni.” Nina snapped at the one adult in our life who gave a fuck about us.

I sighed as the timer on the microwave sounded. “That girl is never going to forgive herself; is she?” I opened the door to the microwave, taking the plate out of it.

“I don’t think so. And therapy doesn’t seem to be helping.” Aunt Toni sighed.

I looked at her as she sprinkled more of that damn parmesan cheese from that Comet can onto her food. I brought the plate of chicken over to the table and sat it down in front of her.

Aunt Toni looked at me as I sat down in the seat next to her. “So, how is Nina’s daughter doing? She’ll be four in a few months. I bet she’s getting big; huh?”

I just looked at Aunt Toni, figuring that Nina had mentioned it to her or that Aunt Toni was there at the hospital the day that Nina gave her baby up to my mother. I nodded. “Yeah, she’s doing good. Every now and then, the nanny lets her call me on the phone. She’s so smart and so beautiful. She looks just like Ricque and Nina put together.”

Aunt Toni’s eyes glistened. “All this sadness just because two people fell in love.”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

I stayed up late that night, cleaning up the mess I’d made cooking in Aunt Toni’s kitchen. This dude, Keon, that I was seeing was texting me nonstop that night, asking me when we were going to hook up. Tired of the nigga texting me, I told him that after I cleaned my aunt’s kitchen, I’d call him to swing by and scoop me up. It had to be about 12:30 that night. I had already changed into my sexy, tight, grey sweater dress and grey, suede, knee-high boots. I’d shaved every piece of hair from my body that night, so when it was time for Keon to lick my kitty kat, there would be no issues. And no, I wasn’t wearing any underwear. There was no point in wearing any when they were about to come off in about an hour anyway.

I stood, cleaning Aunt Toni’s smooth, porcelain stovetop that night when Uncle Timothy stumbled through the back door, which was the entrance to the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes at his drunk ass and then turned back around to face the stove as he slammed the door behind him. Uncle Timothy was thirty-four years old. If he didn’t have such a fucked-up personality, the nigga would have been fine as fuck. He was built like a statue. He was muscular, perfect mustache, trimmed goatee. He was dark-skinned, looking something like Morris Chestnut. You know, a real lady-killer. And I hated him. Whenever he looked at me, he had that same twinge in his eyes that Bobbie had that night he raped me in that shower. I should have known by Uncle Timothy’s overly obsessive conversations with his wife about me that he’d attempt to try me when he got me alone. And there I was, in the kitchen, bent over the stove, in my short ass dress, with no panties on.