This Can't be Life (19 page)

“Hello, hello. Glad you guys made it,” she said in a chipper voice, giving us all pecks on both cheeks. You would have thought that she would have at least hugged her daughter.

“So, Stacey, when are you going to fit me into that hectic schedule of yours so I can get my hair cut by the best stylist in town?” Marie said, intending a compliment. I looked at Simone who blatantly rolled her eyes at her mother.

“I’m sure Simone would get you into her salon anytime you want an appointment, ‘cause you would definitely want to have Monie cut your hair. She’s the best with the short cuts. She’s cuttin’ all the Hollywood girls right now and they have the hottest short cuts, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Stacey replied, very sweetly. He was the best at saying things that were wicked, but sugar coating them enough so you didn’t realize that you should probably be pissed off.

“I’m glad you made it on time, Simone,” Marie said, obviously changing the subject.

“Why wouldn’t I be on time?” Simone asked, incredulously.

“Well, you know you would be late for your own funeral. Follow me inside the banquet room,” she ordered as she pivoted in her plum, Manolo Blahnik pumps. She motioned for us to follow behind her as she briskly walked down the hall. Stacey and I both looked at Simone as she again rolled her eyes deep into the crevices of her eye sockets.

As we walked inside of the banquet hall, classical music sifted out of speaker vents in the ceiling. There were about 150 bourgeois black folks mingling and sipping champagne and wine.

“Come see your grandparents, Simone. They can’t wait to see you.” Marie walked toward a handsome couple. They looked to be in their early 70s. They were talking to a young man and woman who were holding hands and smiling broadly at the seniors.

“Excuse me, Mother, Father,” Marie interjected. “Simone is here.”

Simone walked up to her grandparents and gave them both hugs that lacked warmth. The hug between her and her grandmother was damned near cold.

“Grandpa, Grandma. I’d like you to meet my friends. This is Talise Miles and Stacey Flenoy.” I extended my hand to both and Stacey followed suit.

“Hello. Nice to meet you both, but I wish Simone had let someone know that she was going to be bringing guests of her own. We would have put it in the seating arrangements,” Simone’s grandmother said, in a very snooty tone with her nose stuck in the air.

“Oh, it’s no big deal, Caroline. I’ll tell the workers to bring in more chairs if we need them,” Simone’s grandfather stated, matter-of-factly.

“Well, Bradley, I’m just saying, when you plan for a certain amount of guests…” she began, looking at her husband as if she could have slapped him for speaking when not spoken to.

“If it’s a problem, we can leave. I just really wanted to come and say hi to everyone.” Simone spewed out in her grandmother’s direction, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Over my dead body.” Simone’s grandfather grabbed her hand and led us away.

“Now I see where Mom gets her personality from,” Simone said, to no one in particular.

“The leaf doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” Simone’s grandfather whispered into her ear, not knowing it was loud enough for Stacey and me to hear as well.

“I don’t know why they act like that with me. They pretend to be sweet as pie to everyone else. But me? Oh, no. They have to always put me down for no reason at all.” I could tell Simone was pissed off. If it were possible, you would probably have seen steam coming out of her ears.

“Don’t pay them any mind. You know misery loves company. Your uncle should be here any minute. He’s driving in from San Diego with his wife. They’ll be staying at the house for a few days.” He stopped a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne flutes then handed each of us a glass.

“That’s a shame. I don’t even remember my own uncle.”

“The last time you saw him I think you were about nine or ten or something like that. He stayed with you and your mom for a couple of months during his leave from the Air Force. After he left here, he was stationed in Hawaii. That was until close to a year ago. So, it has been a while. You should come to the house tomorrow for Sunday dinner and get reacquainted. We’re about to get started, go ahead and grab some seats, you three. If you need anything, baby, just let me know.” He kissed Simone on the forehead and walked off.

“These people are un-fucking believable. I’m sorry I brought you guys here.”

“Don’t even trip. I wouldn’t want you to be here alone with these crazy ass folks anyway,” Stacey replied.

“Let’s grab a table at the back of the room,” I suggested. We took our seats and shortly after, everyone else did as well. Simone’s grandmother stepped up to the podium and tapped the microphone with her right index finger.

“First, I’d like to thank everyone for coming out for the Merchant and Dubois family reunion.” Everyone began clapping. “We’re going to start with our appetizers and main entrées and during tea and coffee, some family members are going to come up and say a few words. Please enjoy.” She stepped down and took her seat between Simone’s mother and grandfather.

“This is going to be a long day,” I whispered to Simone and Stacey. As usual, Stace and I started chuckling and acting silly, trying to bring a little life to the stiff party. Simone was distracted and uncharacteristically not joining us in our silly antics. She had her eyes fixed on a couple that had just walked through the door. Her face was cocked to the side and her eyes were angrily squinted. She muttered, “that sick son of a bitch,” under her breath before rising out of her seat and practically running out the door of the banquet hall. Stacey and I immediately ran out after her, but when we cleared the door she was nowhere in sight. The bathroom was the closest door so we figured that she must’ve went inside the ladies room.

I pushed open the bathroom door and called out Simone’s name. I heard sobs coming from the handicap bathroom stall.

“I’ll be right back, Stacey. I’m going in to see what’s wrong with her.”

“Oh, hell naw. I’m goin’, too! Ain’t no woman up in there that I want to see. Shit, they
should
keep me out the men’s restrooms,” Stacey replied, pushing past me and heading straight for the sobbing stall.

“Monie, what’s the matter?” I tapped on the door lightly.

“Open the door, honey.” Stacey spoke to Simone in a worried, soothing voice, but Simone just cried louder. I had never in my life heard her cry like this. I was afraid and didn’t know what to think. Stacey got down on the floor, slid under the door, and unlocked it from the inside. When he opened it for me to come in, I saw Simone sitting on the floor with her back against a marble wall. Her knees were pulled to her chest and her head was buried within the circle of her arms that were clasped tightly around her knees. I started crying and noticed that Stacey was crying as well.

“Simone, talk to us. You’re scaring me. Tell us what’s wrong. We’ll fix it. Just tell us!” I repeated to her over and over, but she wouldn’t say a word. We sat in that bathroom stall for close to 15 minutes with Simone’s sobs getting harder and harder.

Stacey stood and picked Simone up in one swoop and motioned with his head for me to follow him. Both of our faces were tear-stained and our eyes were blood-shot red. Stacey headed out of the bathroom with Simone in his arms and we ran smack dab into Simone’s mother.

“What in the hell is going on? Simone, are you on drugs or something?” Marie spewed in a whisper. It would be an understatement to say that her reaction was alarming. Marie wasn’t the least bit concerned about her daughter crying so hard that she was heaving, so hard that she had to be carried to the car.

“What? You know what? …never mind. Let’s get her home, Stacey,” I said, as we continued right past her, heading for the car. Simone never once looked up or acknowledged her mother. I wanted to curse her out so badly, but I decided against it. I just wanted to get Simone into a comfortable environment that would hopefully calm her down.

I opened the door for Stacey to sit Simone in the backseat. Then I went to the other side and hopped in the back with her. She laid her head on my lap as we drove toward her house. By this time, her sobs turned to whimpers and shivers. Tears fell down my cheeks as I rocked her back and forth all the while, wondering what in the world could be wrong with my best friend.

When we finally pulled up to Simone’s loft and parked in her garage, she got out of the car and began walking toward the elevator. We followed closely behind her, both of us scared to break the silence as Stacey put the key into the 15th floor key hole. The elevator slowly rose past the floors that housed two units and arrived at Simone’s floor, which housed only her large unit. We got off of the elevator and Stacey unlocked the front door.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go wash my face and change,” Simone said, walking toward her bedroom. She sounded so empty. She held her head down like she was ashamed, like if she looked into our eyes we would be able to see all the things she’d hidden from us. I put the tea kettle on a burner, thinking that some hot tea would make us all feel better, but Stacey went to the wine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Pinot Noir and began uncorking it.

Simone joined us in the kitchen, wearing a pair of pink, Juicy sweat pants and a wife beater. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her face and eyes were puffy from crying. She grabbed a wine glass and held it out for Stacey to fill it up.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as she walked onto the patio and took a seat, pulling her feet onto the chair and hugging her knees to her chest. Stacey poured us both a glass of wine as I extinguished the fire under the kettle. We joined Simone on the terrace, taking seats across from her at the patio table. As the sun started to descend, we slowly sipped our wine and waited until she was ready to talk. No one spoke a word for a good 30 minutes. We sat in complete silence, listening to the sounds of nature and sipping Pinot. As the sun disappeared, she began telling us about the dreams that she’d been having and the psychiatrist she was seeing. We listened in utter disbelief. She had never told us about being disturbed almost nightly by this sick nightmare. I didn’t understand how the dreams had anything to do with what happened today until she said, tearfully, that the man that she’d been seeing in her dreams was her uncle, and that the little girl was her. By that time, the sun had long gone and we were on our second bottle of wine.

“When I saw him, you guys, it was like a flood of memories came back to me. That was why I was just sitting there staring at him because, at that moment, I remembered it all. I remember hiding from him. I remember begging my mother to go with her because I didn’t want to be left there with him. I remember him telling me he would kill me if I ever told and that no one would believe me. I remember it all. Even the pain and I don’t want to! I don’t know if I can handle this,” Simone cried. I didn’t know what to say to help her. I was at a loss for words. Tears filled my eyes and burned my throat. There was absolutely nothing I could do to ease my friend’s pain, and that hurt me more than anything.

“You can handle it, Simone. You’re stronger than you think,” I stated.

“I just feel like this bastard was probably out there molesting kids all this time and I didn’t do shit! I didn’t even fucking remember and he’s probably fucked up someone else’s life.”

“How could you have said something, Simone, if you didn’t remember? You were a child and you were scared. You didn’t have anyone that you could trust. There was nothing that you could’ve done, Simone,” I said, not wanting her to feel guilty for the sick things that this man had done to her.

“Well, there’s somethin’ you can do now! Fuck that, you guys! I’m tired of these sick muthafuckas gettin’ away with messin’ with kids! Simone, you need to confront that man. If you won’t, I will. I swear to God, I will! Let those bitches know what happened to you. Shit, we need to do somethin’!” Stacey said, angrily, finally breaking his silence.

“What can I do, Stacey? Those people won’t believe me and I’ll look like a fool.” We were all good and tipsy by now. I was on the side of Stacey. Something needed to be done.

“Who cares if they believe you are not? He knows what he did to you. If you’re too scared to confront him, I’m tellin’ you, as God as my witness, I will! I don’t give a fuck. This shit has to stop!” Stacey said, suddenly releasing a torrential stream of tears.