Less Than Perfect Circumstance (3 page)

CHAPTER THREE

MISUNDERSTOOD

Dexter

Message 21:
Sweetheart, this is your mother. I hope you’re feeling better. Call me when you get this message. Your dad sends his love.

I love you weren’t words I heard frequently from my father, and as I
grew older, those three words came fewer and even farther apart than before. It
wasn’t that my
father d
idn’t love me, he just wasn’t a man who wore his heart on his sleeves; at least not when it came to me.  Marvin
wasn’t much of a conversationalist,
and when he spoke to me, it was only
out of
necessity
, and necessity was always carefully avoided.

At times Eleanor
felt th
e need to communicate things my
father had difficulty saying
. This was
her way of
keeping the peace between the men in her life. There were times
I craved for the love my
fat
her once showed effortlessly.
I just wasn’t going to sell my
soul to get it.

Bryus and Trenton had also left messages announcing their going away dinner in two weeks.

   
Note to self: no excuses, must attend
, I
thought.

You know who this is. I haven’t heard from you. I trust that you are doing well. It would be nice to hear you say so yourself. Please, call me. Love you
.

The familiar voice was one I
was trying desperately to forget.

Messages deleted.

My mother
was awake early in the morning and was already in her garden with her cell phone nearby. She has done many things in her
garden

laughed, cried, sang, hummed

but lately, her time in her prized garden was spent weeding and planting. She valued the time
;
however, she welcomed any interruption that talking with her children
or grandchildren
provided.

“Hello Mother,
”
I began.

“Hey, baby,” she
greeted.

I always
thought it was a name especial
ly reserved for
m
euntil I
realized
everyone of her children was her baby at some point.

“What are you doing?”
I asked.

I
knew
exactly how my
mother was going to respond, but for conversa
tion, I figured I
would ask anyway.

“Baby, you know I rise with the sun and the roo
sters, if there were any around.”

I
smi
led at her comment, something I
actually needed
since it seemed I
had forgotten how.

“Do you need some tomatoes? I have more than I know to do with them.”

This was Eleanor’s attempt at a
normal
conversation without brin
ging up the accident or my injuries unless I
did. She could
h
ave thought of another topic.

“Is that all you grew?”

“Of course it isn’t,” Eleanor responded with a smirk in her tone. “
I have basils, and mint,
some peppers, too.
Enough about my precious garden, how are you doing, son?”

“Better,
” I answered
, and then thought,
so much for not bringing up the accident
. “I haven’t been able to do too much around here, and this scar doesn’t seem to be going anywhere,”
I
continued.

“Have you at least gotten out of the house?”

Ele
anor didn’t like the idea of my being a hermit, even if I thought I
had perfectly good reasons.

“Yes, M
other. I went outside this morning. Spoke to Artis…”

“That fin
e young man. How is he doing?” s
he interrupted.

“He’s well.
We had a brief conversation, mainly about nothing.”

In Eleanor’s eyes
Artis and I
were made for each other. However
,
Artis
just wasn’t my
type. After the sexual tension
between us
finally faded, Artis accepted that only a nonphysical friends
hip could exist
; even that was hard work. Artis was attractive, had been since high school
, but we
were better off as friends.

“Good. I worry about you sitting around the house, being depressed.”

“I know,
M
other.”

“You have to get out. Throwing on a baseball cap to cover
that….,”
she paused, thought for a moment and then continued. “Why don’t you call Belinda, see if she wants to do something. Just make sure you get out.”

“I will,
M
other. Hey, is dad around?”

“No,” she responded quickly.

I was reli
eved.
I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say to hi
m, and I was sure anything said
would eventually lead to an argument. Definitely not the way I wanted to start my day
.

Conversations with
Marvin
DeGregory required a lot of mental preparation. There was no telling what would
come out of my
father’s mouth, and when
he said the wrong thing, I
was re
ady to set him straight with my
quick tongue.
I
was never dis
respectful, but I needed my
father to know
I
was no longer the little boy whose life he thought he could dictate without any objection.

“Your father
went to the golf course early this morning with your Uncle Vernon,
and your cousin Julius,” Eleanor continued, almost sounding apologetic. “
They probably stopped so
mewhere for a quick bite;
you know how those three love their stomach. There’s no
telling when they get together.”

There were times I envied the relationship my u
ncle and cousin had, but then I
was reminded just how different they were
from me and the man I called dad
.

“Has he calmed any?”
I
asked, almost afraid of her response.

“Honestly, no. He asks how you’re doing from time to time but still wil
l not talk about what happened…
at least not to me. I just don’t think he’s ready.”

Two
months had
passed and Mr. DeGregory still refused
to confront me
.
I
didn’t understand the difficulty in that, but
I respected my
father’s decision.
I
certainly wasn’t
going to force him, and the longer this process
took,
the longer we would avoid arguing. As far as I was concerned, I
had more to deal with than
my
father did.
Whatever it was that bothered him, I
didn’t have the time or the energy to try and figure it out. 

I knew it was something when he wouldn’t even talk his wife. He wasn’t that damn secretive.
My mother
was always an easy person to talk to
;
the family confidant. People went to her about any and everything. It wa
s no-holds-
bar
red
with her. They found it easy to share their deepest secrets and their shames, usually because she held her judgments to herself, unless it was solicited. Everyo
ne, including y brothers
and
many of her students, sought my mother’s
advice; well, everyone except Deidre.

Deidre
didn’t have
anything to hide,
and even if she did, it would be quite difficult. Being
the only girl in the
family
had its rewards. The DeGregory boys, young and old alike
,
were very protective of our sister, and on the first night she introduced Marcel to us, we gave him a taste of just how overprotective we were. Things Deidre thought she kept to herself and her GOD
,
or her diary
,
were found out with ease, and as a young girl, she wondered how. She never questioned it, just accepted our behaviors as part of being her brothers. 

Since everyone confided in Mrs. Eleanor DeGregory, she, at times, became overwhelmed.  She had to share some of the burden of keeping all those secrets
with someone. Usually she would confide in me.
It
had to do with the fact that I
kept
secrets just as good as she. I
kept
almost nothing
hidden from my
mother. Things that I
didn’t want her to know
,
or things
I
thought would be to
o overwhelming to keep to my
self,
Itold
to Deidre. 

Since Deidre
and I
were close in age and she hadn’t paid much attention to the prejudices and stereotypes around her, talking to h
er was easy
.
What I loved most about her
was her nonjudgmental and impartial attitude.

The trust
that developed between
me
and Deidre
began one afternoo
n after a long day at school. I had co
me home
, hurried past
my
bedroom and knocked anxiously on Deidre’s
bedroom door. When I
entered the room, she was lying across her bed with her face buried in a science text
book, studying

something she’s always done even if there wasn’t a test to study for.

“Hey
,
sis, can I bother you for a minute?”
I asked.

My heart
was pumping fast from thinking too hard.

“Sure, come in. What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Is mom busy?” Deidre
asked jokingly.

When she looked up and saw
the seriousness in my
face, she closed her book, and s
at up.

“What’s wrong?
” she continued.

“No, mom isn’t busy. I can’t talk to her
about this.” I
walked over and stood with both thumb inside t
he straps of my
bag and leaned against the post of Deidre’s canopy bed.

On my way home from school, I
had rehearsed
exactly what I
was going to
say over and over in my head. I had it all prepared. I was going to deliver my
lines and escape before
Deidre
had a chance to ask any q
uestions, but when I opened my mouth, I was speechless. The words I
had
stored in my mind were no
where to be found.
I
took a deep breath, swallowed, and then started again.

“I think I like boys
,
” I
said almost in a whisper.

Deidre sat quietly for a few moments
, and then before I
could blink, she had her arms wrappe
d around me
.

“
Please, don’t scare me like that again. I thought someone died.”

“
D
id you hear what I said?” I asked with my
mouth buried in Deidre’s neck.

“Yes, I heard you.”

“Well?” I
asked looking into her e
yes for any sign of disapproval
.;
t
here weren’t any.
My sexuality was no longer my
secret.

Thinking about the conversation with my sister had given me the distraction I needed from thoughts about my
father. I
must have been silent for too long.

“Hello, are you there
?”  Eleanor
interrupted
, bringing me back to the present and ending my
trip down memory lane.