My Sister's Ex (8 page)

“Don’t you talk to my mother like that, you idiot.” I yell at her so loud everyone grows quiet. Jeff runs up to me and grabs my arm, and I reluctantly push him off me.

“Leave me alone. You have nothing to do with this. You need to run after
her
, since she’s the one who brought you to this party.”

“Rachel, please. We should talk. Even though you’re mad, I hate seeing you and Marlene act like this. You shouldn’t be hitting your sister. Apologize.”

“Nooo,” Marlene butts in. “Let her dumb butt stay dumb. I’m fine. Thanks for being concerned, since no one else is.”

Face red, my mama forcefully takes me by the hand and leads me to the family room. Alita follows behind us asking, “You need anything, sis? Need a glass of ice water or trash can punch?”

“She doesn’t need that. She needs to watch who she’s hitting, though, I know that much,” says Marlene, hollering after us and following us into the family room.

Aunt Perry, who is right behind me, Mama, and Alita, says, “You gotta watch your temper, Rachel. You may be pissed, hell, I’m pissed for you, but you don’t need things to escalate where you catch yourself a case.”

“Yep, I’m gonna file assault charges on you, Rachel, you hear me?” Marlene screams. I look toward the kitchen, but she’s standing several feet behind me, apparently listening in.

“Girl, get your fat ass out this room. Nobody’s talking to you, and nobody’s going to sue anybody,” screams my mama. “Dare you to make me mad.” And, like a wise woman, Marlene twirls her big butt around, clamps her mouth shut, and disappears.

“Dang,” Mama complains. “She is one of the nosiest people, I swear.”

“It’s cool, Mama,” I say. “I didn’t mean to go off on her, but she’s crossing a line when she says things about you in front of your face. I won’t stand for it.”

“Well, thanks for defending me. That girl needs to watch herself.”

“She’ll be all right. She just wants an apology. But don’t worry about her, okay?”

“Oh, she’s not the one I’m worried about.”

“You worried about me, Mama?”

“I don’t want you to go through the shit I went through, Lord knows. It’s like some doggone déjà vu.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” says Aunt Perry. “I remember like it was yesterday. Shame.”

“It’s getting crazy,” I say. “None of this makes any sense. How did we get like this? I know I shouldn’t be swinging at her—.”

“You did more than swing,” Alita murmurs.

“I know, it wasn’t cool,” I admit. “But she started this. I’m really shocked that she brought my ex to this party. That was pretty bold. Is Marlene that much like her mother?”

My mama’s eyes are blazing from ancient traumatizing memories. She looks how I feel. Sad. Frustrated. And I know even though things have calmed down a notch, it’s gonna be later rather than sooner before this mess blows over.

The more I think about myself and my mama and the hurt we’ve been through, the more I know the battle has just begun. I head back to the kitchen to finish the fight that Marlene (and Loretta before her) was stupid enough to start.

— 5 —
M
ARLENE

The Best Woman Will Always Win

One memory I have
that’ll never be erased is the time I got jumped by five girls. We all attended the same elementary school. I was in fifth grade, the new and different, yet intriguing, chick. At first this close-knit group of girls would gather around me, eager to befriend the new kid on the block—they’d chat me up, scoot their desks close to mine so we could giggle and talk in class; they’d save a special seat for me in the lunchroom; and I’d get dragged by the arm so we all could hang together on the playground. It felt great to be accepted, to be “in” for a change. I am not sure why they took to me. All I knew was I loved having lots of friends, girls who laughed and high-fived me when I cracked a good joke, and girls who hated the same teachers I came to hate.

But then the good times changed. About four weeks after I began attending the new school, a stuffy nose, harsh cough, and watery eyes kept me from going to classes three days in a row. School policy was if you’re sick stay your sick butt at home and don’t come back till you’re well. When my health improved my mother sent me back to school, which ended up being the very next Monday. My excitement about returning grew into puzzlement the minute my friends pretended like they didn’t see me when I waved hello. They wrinkled
their noses and moved their desks far away from mine when I sat down. Instead of laughing with me, they laughed at me. Threw back their heads and giggled and slapped their knees at the girl with the flabby arms and thick waist. I stared straight ahead when I realized the girls that I learned to like plain ole didn’t like me anymore. I ate lunch by myself at a long, dirty lunch table, and during recess, when we congregated on the playground, the playing turned ugly.

“You think you something, don’t you, Marlene?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you an uppity girl—you think you better than us.”

“That’s not true. No, I don’t.”

“Stop lying. You think you the shit but you ain’t all that. You’re too stupid to know that no one likes you for real.”

“Why are you talking to me like this? I thought you were my friend!”

“No one gave you permission to talk.”

“But I just—.”

“Shut up, bitch.” Whop! One girl repeatedly smacked me in the face with her open hand. Another jumped and twisted my arm behind my back, yelling “Get her!” Another kicked me in the stomach like my belly was a soccer ball. She laughed hysterically the second I started wheezing. Then a slew of hands all came at my face, fists balled up, socking me in the jaw. I felt like a piñata. I closed my eyes, yanked my arm, and swung my fists, trying my best to defend myself. I wanted to swing hard enough so I could make contact with a nose, a jaw, an eye. I wanted so bad to inflict pain on those girls. And I also wanted to win the fight. I intended to show them they couldn’t love me one day and hate me the next and think I’d go along with their games. Even though it was one against five and the odds were against me, I still had to win. I desperately
yearned to come out on top even though my future looked dismal.

Later I learned that what the girls did to me they did to every new girl who came to our school. Stupid, silly immature mind games. Girls bullying girls. Kind of like the Lindsay Lohan movie
Mean Girls
, except in my case, the meanness started at an earlier age.

Fast forward to now: the new kind of playground fight.

It’s several minutes after Rachel delivered a blow to my head.

After Rachel and her mama leave the kitchen, Jeff carefully examines my wound. I wince when he brushes his finger across the swelling. He opens the freezer door and shakes some ice cubes out of the tray. He grabs a napkin off the counter and wraps it around the ice, and applies it to my forehead.

“I can’t believe Rachel. She was wrong, so wrong,” he says.

“Yes, she was.” I blink and can feel hot water spring in my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Jeff softly says. “I know it hurts, but it won’t hurt forever,” he reassures me.

“I hope not.”

“I
know
not. Physical wounds heal quicker than any other wounds.”

Right then Rachel, Alita, Aunt Perry, and Brooke bounce back into the kitchen like they’re boxers in a ring. We’re clustered by the refrigerator.

Rachel plants her hands on her hips. “And another thing,” she says as if we were in the midst of a conversation. “I am tired of your mama talking shit about me to Blinky.”

“Rachel, hush,” I say with a dismissive wave of the hand, like her words are stupid. “Leave my mama out of it. You’re frustrated and using her to start messing with me, and she isn’t the issue.”

“Then what is, bitch? School me.”

“I am not about to go there with you, girl.”

“But what if I want you to?”

“Rachel, grow up and stop acting stupid.”

“You’re the stupid one.”

That does it.

“Oh, so I’m the stupid one? A woman who gives up a perfectly good man and gets mad when he moves on is about as dumb as George W. Bush—.”

And that’s when she shoves me so hard I nearly lose my balance. I have to rest my hand against the fridge to keep from hitting the floor. Suddenly all eyes are on me. I morph into a scared little girl surrounded by her former so-called friends. I feel insecure, like I don’t know if I should defend myself, or make excuses, or play the innocent role. But in spite of being uncertain, I know I have to raise my fist and swing hard. Raise back my fist and swing again. So what if my sister says idiot things like “Christians don’t fight.” During moments like this, I let Rachel antagonize me all she wants. Just because you believe in God doesn’t mean you have to be somebody’s fool. Like you don’t hurt, don’t have feelings, or don’t feel like defending yourself sometimes because you’re too impatient to wait on the Lord to defend you.

So when meddlesome Perry throws in her two cents by calling me a “pathetic hypocrite,” whop, I make sure my sister’s favorite aunt gets smacked, too. And Alita being in the room is another potential fist that’s going to come after me sooner or later, so let me get this girl before she gets me. And Rachel, well, she’s the ringleader, the girl-fight instigator who has power and influence over all the other girls. And it’s weird because it shouldn’t be this way; the bigger sister should gang up on the younger one. But these strange kinds of things have happened between me and Rachel ever since we were young.
And I see our conflicts won’t end just because we’re getting older.

“Who the hell you think you are trying to take a swing at me?” Aunt Perry says. “Girl, don’t you know I’ll whoop your ass? You ain’t too big for me to take an extension cord to you.”

“Marlene, have you lost your mind?” Alita joins in, looking amazed.

“Hey, everybody, time out. This is wrong and it’s nuts.” Jeff speaks up. He physically separates me and Rachel and gives us all incredulous looks. All these women pushing and shoving and for what? I can’t even remember how things got started. But that’s how it is sometimes when raw emotions simmer underneath the surface.

It’s just like a volcano. You hear it bubbling, you see clouds of smoke billowing, and you know something dangerous and explosive is about to happen. I can only guess that the volcano erupting between my sister and me is going to expose some things that have been buried and hidden for far too long.

“Rachel,” Jeff says angrily, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but not a single word comes out.

“All of you need to chill out before something else happens that you regret,” he continues scolding. The other ladies are breathing hard and their reddened faces glimmer with shame.

“Marlene, will you come with me?” Jeff pleads with me, and I instantly follow him. We walk through Blinky’s kitchen, dining room, then through the foyer and out the front door.

Blinky lives in the hood, and the hood never sleeps. There’re always people around watching to see who’s coming and going. Normally, when I am outside the house, I
wave and talk to the teenage guys who are always loafing around and sitting on the curb of the house next door, but today I pretend like they’re invisible because I hope they aren’t staring at my forehead.

Jeff scrambles down the front walk until he’s standing next to Ella and opens the passenger door. I quickly slide in and look straight ahead until he bounds around to the other side of the car and settles in on the driver’s side.

“I love a woman with fire, but damn, Little Mama, do you gotta get into it with your entire family all at once?”

“Jeff, you saw how instigating they can be. They all hate me, team up on me. Nothing I do is ever right. They always side with Rachel. You see how they let her hit me? I have to fight, or else they’ll run over me even more.”

“Slow your roll, Little Mama. It’s cool. We just gotta chill. Y’all can’t be wilding out at your own daddy’s birthday party. That’s not righteous.”

I flinch when he says “righteous.” What if he thinks I’m a hypocrite? Where is the sisterly love I’m supposed to be showing? I barely want to think about the fact that Rachel and I are related, let alone act like I deeply love the girl.

“Jeff, you’re right. I’m sorry. Things went way too far. But she’s an expert at pushing my buttons and getting me all twisted up inside.”

“Don’t let her. You’re older. Be the example.”

“I know. I should. But I can’t. I won’t. She always gets what she wants. I’ve always had to struggle.”

“Marlene, you know it’s not true. I think you’re being paranoid.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, what about the fact that one time she was chosen to be in a back-to-school fashion show that was sponsored by the mall? I am the one who thought of applying first and suggested that we try out together. But instead
of picking me, the judges picked her hands down. Can you believe that?” I ask, blinking back tears.

“First of all, you sound like you’re in elementary school, like a little kid that’s mad because someone stole her favorite toy.”

“I’m not a kid—.”

“And secondly, you know good and well Rachel doesn’t get everything she wants. If she got to be in that fashion show, it’s only because she got lucky.”

“What are you saying?”

“No doubt, Rachel is a pretty woman … but so are you.”

“You’re just saying that.” I sniff and eye him suspiciously. Jeff knows just what to say to make me feel so good inside.

“Anyone can see that you believe you’re attractive. You wear pretty clothes, your hair looks good, and you strut around like you’re on a darned catwalk sometimes. Like you’re the runner-up of a beauty contest.”

“That’s the problem. I’m always the runner-up, and Rachel is usually the winner.”

“Again, you’re exaggerating, Marlene. And nine times out of ten, when folks exaggerate—”

“No, Jeff, really. I could tell you some things. But it hurts too much to think about. All I know is for once in my life, I aim to get exactly what I want. I want to win.” I eye him seriously and pray he can see my determination and sense my deep-rooted desire.