When All Hell Breaks Loose (22 page)

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Authors: Camika Spencer

BOOK: When All Hell Breaks Loose
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“The funny thing about it all,” Louise continues, “was that you would always get confused when counting high, so you were crying because you didn’t know what came after thirteen.” We both laugh. I feel embarrassed that she has such a story to tell about me.

Boy, was I dumb back then
, I think.

I begin wrapping one of the boxes she had taped up. Louise sits sipping her tea and watching me. I’m at a loss for words with her, but I know what needs to be said. “Why did you go to France?” I ask.

She shakes her head dreamily. “I don’t know. I was young and I wanted to sing. That was all I ever wanted to do, Gregory. Singing has always been my life.”

“So leaving your family behind was the thing to do?”

“No,” she responds. “I tried to get your daddy to come with me
and bring you two along—we didn’t have to pay for anything. But Adolphus had settled in. He was comfortable going to work and coming home to a family. I loved my family and being with my children, but I’d never planned on planting my feet in Dallas. I always looked at our situation as temporary and I was ready for us all to go on the road.”

“So what happened?”

“We had been renting the house for a while, and Adolphus wanted to buy. I was doing gigs here and there, off and on, trying to get a record deal. Blue Note Records was on the decline and I was getting desperate. A friend from California called the same week we were supposed to sign the papers to buy the house and told us of an opportunity in France that guaranteed a record deal. There was a guy named Joe Bringham who had a small record label called Swing Time, and they wanted to do a live recording in France. He wanted the Alston Jazz Quartet and me to be the band to record. He offered to pay for all moving expenses, families included. I immediately said yes, and your father immediately said no, which goes to show how much we really knew each other after all those years.”

“What happened after that?”

“I left. I just up and left. I was afraid to tell ’Dolphus that I was going so I decided to tell him once I got overseas. When I called him he cussed me so bad, I shook. But nothing compared to the day I called you on your eighth birthday and you hung the phone up while I sang the birthday song to you. That was the first time I regretted leaving. I wanted to come home, but I had signed a contract by then. A five-year contract that threw my life into a ball of confusion and locked me down in Europe.”

“What about Lester Woodbine?” I asked. “I remember Pops yelling at you that night about Lester the drummer. I thought you two ran off together.”

“Greg, it’s not what you think. Your daddy knew nothing was going on between me and Sticks. That’s what we called Lester. Sticks left with me, that much is true, but he had a woman over there. Her name was Felicia. She was a young, pathetic-looking white girl, too. You should have seen her.” Louise shakes her head and smiles at the
thought. “Anyway, we had to form a whole new band because ’Dolphus, Mootchie Rankin, and Dexter Sanders stayed in the States. Sticks was my drummer, that’s all.”

“He never told us what happened. We never talked about why you left.”

“To be honest, son, I think the whole band was against going over there and letting a white man pay our way until we could get on our feet. They were all proud black men who had been through enough with the whites in the music industry here. But Lester and I had decided that money is green, and the folks over in Europe have a totally different appreciation for music, especially black music and jazz. I think your father was mad that Lester crossed over the line.”

“But why did you quit coming to visit?”

“The last time I came to visit, you were thirteen and Nina was eleven. You both treated me so bad that I decided to quit wasting your time by coming home. That’s when you stopped calling me Mama. Shreese wouldn’t give up her church nights to spend any time with me and your father was barely talking to me back then. I was hurt.”

“You hurt us. What you did was selfish.”

“Greg, I don’t expect you to understand, and I apologize for bringing you and Nina into this. What I did
was
selfish, but I have always loved you. Don’t think anything different.” She takes a long thoughtful pause. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was sing jazz and be good at it.” Louise grabs her mug and sips some more tea. “Europe gives me that chance.”

I still feel compelled to talk. “We used to make wishes for you on our birthdays, at Christmas, when we saw falling stars, and any other time we had opportunities to make you appear from nowhere. I remember wishing for you at one of Bennie Junior’s birthday parties as he made his wish and blew out his candles.” I laugh. “It’s funny how as a child I made you feel unwanted when all the time I wanted you home. I knew I loved you, but I hated what you did more.” I inhale slightly. “I still hate what you did.” I look at her for some form of comfort.

She looks at me and gives a half-smile. “It’s okay. Like I told you
before, I am your mother and sometimes dealing with angry children is part of my job description. But I hope you don’t spend the rest of your life hating what I did, because one day you will have your own children, and they will make decisions based on soul needs and not on the needs of others.” She grabs a box out of one of the sacks and begins taping it closed. She looks up at me one more time and smiles.

“I was young and foolish. Very foolish, Gregory.” Her lips quiver for a second and she starts wrapping another gift.

I continue to wrap the box I have as I think about what she’s said about soul needs.

“You know I don’t hate you, right?” I ask without looking up. I want her to feel better and to know that I forgive her.

Even though something inside me is still angry at her, I think it’s more my resentment towards myself for coming to conclusions without ever giving her a chance to tell her side. I know she’s right, because I can remember the times I wouldn’t talk to her on the phone, or wouldn’t sign my name to her birthday cards. I wanted her to beg for my forgiveness, but what I wasn’t willing to do was forgive. Now, I feel like I can start.

She puts everything down and reaches for my hand. I give it to her.

“Gregory Louis Alston, thank you for being the son I knew you would be. I never wanted anything from you that you weren’t willing to give. There’s no way I could have expected you or your sister to be happy about my leaving. I hoped you two would grow up with passions of your own. Something you loved so much that you would lay down your life for it if you had to. Only then could either of you understand why I left. I just hope that when you settle with the woman you really love, you can make better decisions about the lives of your children than I did.” Her grasp becomes firm and I squeeze back.

We release our hold on each other and continue wrapping gifts.

“What do you mean by ‘the woman I really love’?” I question, not letting the statement slide.

“Oh, I just meant when you settle down with the woman you
love.” She never looks up, but she has an expression on her face that clearly means she’s holding back. It’s the same look she had when Ulan and I had words at the breakfast table, and this time I’m not letting it drop. Louise and I just bonded and opened up to each other and there is no reason I should feel uncomfortable trying to figure Lou—my mother’s statement out.

“Adrian is going to be my wife, so why is it all of a sudden you can’t say her name? I do love her and I think you owe her that much respect when referring to her.”

“Oh Gregory, I wasn’t thinking anything by what I said. If you want me to say Adrian, then there, I’ve said it. Adrian.”

“You’ve treated Adrian strangely since you met her. That day you met her, I saw you look at her funny. I noticed that. And the day you called my apartment and she was here, you didn’t even greet her. She told me you just asked her to put me on the phone. You don’t have to pretend. Why don’t you be up front with me concerning your feelings about Adrian?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, son, she’s a little too quiet for me. I just always thought you’d marry a woman who was more spirited. I’ve met millions of women around this world who Adrian reminds me of, and that just isn’t what I expected. Quiet people have never been my favorite type of people, based on personal experiences, and that’s why I may act standoffish from her, but I don’t mean for it to show. I’m sorry if that offends you and I will try to do better.”

I accept my mother’s apology. Hopefully she’s sincere. “Just give her a chance, because you haven’t been around her long enough. Your experiences can’t define everything, and Adrian really likes you. I think you should at least stop judging her based on others you’ve met who remind you of her.”

“Gregory, let’s not get into how I feel about Adrian. What matters is that you have my blessings, and you do, one hundred percent. You’re right, I haven’t been in your life long enough to know what you like or dislike, and my feelings about Adrian are irrelevant.”

“But your approval means a lot to me right now. Don’t you understand that?”

“And I do approve, son. I approve of how happy I see you when
you’re with her. What matters to me is how she makes you feel, not how she makes me feel.”

“So, do you like her?”

Louise laughs. “I personally think you could do better by finding you a nice young jazz singer, but she’ll do if she can appreciate the music.”

We laugh together and continue wrapping the gifts. This moment feels good to me. I never thought a day like this would happen and I could actually start coming to grips with my anger and my resentment of Louise. One thing I can say without a shadow of a doubt is that I’m glad she’s here.

By the time we finish wrapping the gifts and getting the scraps of paper from the floor, it’s almost seven o’clock. Louise gets up to leave and I walk her out to her car.

“So, are you doing any gigs while you’re in the States?” I ask.

“No, I canceled everything for your wedding.”

“Oh.” I’m disappointed.

“Your father wants me to go down to Sambuca’s club and do a set, but I told him to forget it. For once in my life, singing is not the priority. You and Shreese are.” She smiles. “Besides, seeing the old gang might kill your mama.” She laughs.

“Nah. I think you could handle it.”

“I’m cooking New Year’s dinner at the house and I want you, Adrian, and your friends to come over. We’ll set it out with a great big party with lots of food and drinks.”

I smile and look out over the parking lot. “Okay. Sounds good.” I shut the door and watch her put her seat belt on, start up, and drive away.

She waves as she leaves, and I return the favor. Although I’m skeptical about Louise’s intentions towards Adrian, I think talking with her has made a big difference and now Adrian and I can get our lives back on track. We’ve been distant from each other lately, and I know Louise’s presence has hurt my relationship with my fiancée more than it has helped. Adrian tolerates her because she is my mother, but I’d rather Adrian not deal with Louise at all if she feels uncomfortable around her. Hopefully, my mother is serious about changing her attitude
and Adrian will notice it. She loves my mother, I can tell by the way she has talked about her lately, but at the same time, Adrian and I have spent fewer nights together, our sex life is virtually nonexistent, and the last time I went to visit my parents, Adrian declined to go with me. But now, everything can be put back in motion and we can begin to close the crack we’ve started falling through.

The nip in the air causes a chill to run up my spine as I head back into the warmth of my apartment. I’m smiling big, feeling good that I am no longer one big ball of anger and confusion where my mother is concerned. I’ve got a roof over my head, food in the fridge, love on my mind, and finally … a mother for Christmas!

17

I
t’s New Year’s Eve and everyone is at my parents’ home except for Shreese and Ulan. They are at church with other members, bringing in the new year. Shreese invited the family to attend the service, but I think only Aretha stopped by, and now she’s here with everybody else at my parents’. She even has a date. The brother looks sorry if you ask me, but it’s her world and I ain’t trying to spoil nobody’s night.

Jamal is here with April. I mean, Freedom Heru. She’s good-looking just like he said, thin and elegant. Deep brown skin and long thin braids. I really like the tattoo on the back of her left shoulder. It’s the shape of the ankh symbol, but if you look at it close, it’s a black woman holding a child. The artwork is cool.

Eric brought a woman he met at a Christmas party last week. They both have on the same colors, black pants with red shirts. He introduced her as Darcell McElroy. She’s exotic and very ethnic-looking, the way he likes them. He said she was part Thai and part Indian, but she looks like a Native American with slanted eyes. She’s
not that pretty, though. Her grill is messed up, meaning her teeth are jacked, stacked, and two or three are cracked. But mouth closed, she’s the bomb.

Tim came alone. Last year he had three different dates at three different times. I guess this year, he’s decided to settle down and bring in the new year stag. Since Adrian’s friend Carla is here, I’ll introduce them instead. Who knows? I could be the next great Cupid.

Phil is here with some woman who looks like she could use some sleep. She has huge bags under her eyes and she’s sitting on the couch like a zombie. When I asked her did she want something to drink, she stared at me for several seconds before answering. I started to get right in her face and yell, but she eventually came around and gave a polite “No, thank you.” Phil isn’t even paying her any attention. He’s skinnin’ and grinnin’ with Arnell, the nail tech from Adrian’s salon.

Pops, Uncle Bennie, and three other older men are outside in the garage playing dominoes. Bennie Junior comes in with a new woman. I assume he got Stephanie out of his life. This woman looks a lot older and doesn’t quite fit the description of the one he told me about over a month ago, who was his age. He walks over to me and gives me some dap. “What up cuz!” he says loudly. The alcohol on his breath heats my face.

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