Authors: Amanda Bolton
Cameron sat up in the bed and said,
“My mom died when I was like nine, my step dad was a real piece of work and I hated being there after she was gone. And even after all of these years, I still feel upset and confused by the whole thing.”
“Okay, now I’m confused too. Why have you not told me anything about this, at all? Why am I just now hearing this news and I don't understand why I was not involved any sooner,” she said.
It’s not a part of my life that I’m proud of. I need for you to listen to me, right now. When I met you, my whole life changed in an instant. It was you, even before I knew you, it was always you.
I can’t rewrite history and change the ugly parts. Sometimes we let the missing pieces be free. I don’t really know how else to explain this to you in a way that you will understand. I’m fresh out of ideas here.
I’m not like you dear. I don’t have anyone else to turn to. I’m not seeking anyone’s approval for myself or for you.
I understand that their opinion matters to you, but it doesn’t determine our fate, nor should it either. It’s me and you, remember?
Chapter VI – He’s The Baby Daddy
They finished out the time there by going with them to church and bible study and anything that kept the attention away from reality was a welcome distraction.
The ride home was quiet, awkwardly so. They were sitting side by side, but not one word was spoken out loud. The weekend seemed like an utter failure, despite the good intensions for better.
Back at the apartment she started cleaning because that was what she did when she was angry. She started with the kitchen, that was always the most difficult to get really clean. She washed the dishes and set them out to dry on the counter. She mopped the ceramic tile floors and made them shine and she stayed off of them until they were dry.
She vacuumed her carpet floors before moving on to the bedrooms and bathrooms. For whatever reason, cleaning seemed to clear her mind from whatever it was that was bothering her. Meanwhile, Cameron had flopped down on the love seat with his hairy hand down the front of his athletic shorts.
The football game had stolen his attention and she was none too happy about it. But when she was making the bed, she noticed that his side was completely pulled out from the bottom and she got pissed off.
She yanked that top sheet off of the bed and stomped into the living room. She stood their towering over him shaking her head with tightly pursed lips. It was obvious that she was not happy.
She threw it in his face and started yelling at him,
You ungrateful, self - involved, self - serving, crappy ass man! I don’t know what I ever saw in your lazy fucking ass! You treat me like shit and then what? I am just supposed to take it and live with it?
Yeah, well that shit ain’t going to fly with a black woman like me! You need to get your lazy ass up off of this god damn couch and get busy … Do something …. Fucking anything at this point.
You don’t do shit around here! You just say that you will get to it, you will get to it … But, guess what, that day never comes.
I don’t get it. I don’t get it. I don’t get you, at all. This is bullshit, man. Fucking bullshit!
Her face was turning bright red, the madder that she got. She was stomping and ranting and raving with every bit of energy that she had inside of her.
Things had changed so suddenly once they had gotten back home. The more that it didn’t seem to faze Cameron, the more that it infuriated her to no end.
He tapped his forefinger on his bottom lip as he tried to bite down somewhat. He wasn’t sure what to make of her abrupt outburst. He knew her to be an even keel girl that became annoyed by his occasional immaturity.
But even then she never had made a big deal about it anyway. She never seemed to let much of anything bother her. She made no bones about it as she threw all of the dirty laundry into the laundry basket so carelessly.
As she walked passed with it all in tow she raised her hand as if to say, don’t even try it. She left home and went down a few blocks to a little mom and pop shop called, Rub a Dub. It was a local favorite. You could wash and dry clothes while you went next door and ate, drank, played pool and were thoroughly entertained.
It made doing laundry seem fun, even though it wasn’t. She put her quarters in the old juke box and let the music play on. There was something about how those vintage plastic records playing all crackly that made her feel the soulfulness.
She played a little Ray Lamontagne. Even though she had heard the song, Jolene, before she wanted to hear it again. It was all part of being a writer and connecting to the target audience it helped with her work in marketing and advertising.
They were not really all that different. She was trying to touch a nerve or nurture a recollection of a feeling or a smell form childhood that offered a sense of nostalgia and so was he.
She closed her eyes as he started to sing. There was something wildly sexy about the texture in his voice that came out when he was singing. He didn’t really sound like anyone else that she had ever listened too before. Her ears were snobbish, just like her English literature background.
If she had any pet peeves, at all, it was the improper use of the American Psychological Association style of writing rules. Maybe it was a little bit too structured or staunch. But to her it all made perfect sense and it provided a rule by which to measure all others from.
That mattered greatly to her. And the music played and she sang right along,
Cocaine flame in my bloodstream
Sold my coat when I hit Spokane
Bought myself a hard pack of cigarettes in the early morning rain
Lately my hands they don't feel like mine
My eyes been stung with dust, I'm blind
Held you in my arms one time
Lost you just the same
Jolene
I ain't about to go straight
When she thought about his life and work it inspired her. Anyone that had the steel balls to express themselves so freely was a superhero to her. She felt like she needed that so badly. Then the next verse played,
It's too late
I found myself face down in the ditch
Booze on my hair
Blood on my lips
A picture of you, holding a picture of me
In the pocket of my blue jeans
Still don't know what love means
She couldn’t be sure, but it did seem like Jolene had long since been his muse for creativity and inspiration. He was a truly gifted man with insight beyond his years and she appreciated that about him. Not many men thought that sincerely with their emotions. It just didn’t happen like that.
She could barely keep up with her excitement when the next verse started to play. It took over her mind as she ran her fingers through her hair, completely absorbed by his presence in the moment that felt timeless. That expression of how love …. Angst …. Fear …. And wonder looked on a person in love.
It wasn’t always pretty, but the feeling was universal and she knew that all too well. There were times in her life when she had been lucky in love yet there were times where love reared its ugly head and bitch slapped her right across her pretty face.
She had equal amounts of fear and respect for that little thing called love. She had been on both sides of that fence. Some part of her even wondered if the feeling of heartfelt love was worth the potential heartbeat that could happen.
Only an optimist would forwardly say so. Anyone else would be wary of the like. Any person that had been burned by someone, tended to raise their guard up nice and high because fear had crept in and had caused hesitation for them. And then the music played on,
Been so long since I seen your face
Or felt a part of this human race
I've been living out of this here suitcase for way too long
A man needs something he can hold onto
A nine pound hammer or a woman like you
Either one of them things will do
Jolene
I ain't about to go straight
It's too late
I found myself face down in the ditch
Booze in my hair
Blood on my lips
A picture of you, holding a picture of me
In the pocket of my blue jeans
Still don't know what love means
Just then she wondered if all females were as wily as she was. She was not sure about all that much in her life, but the one thing that she was sure about was the fact that she could make her presence known when she wanted to.
She was a smart, beautiful, svelte black woman that had everything in the world going for her. It was just then and there that she promised herself that she would never ever settle for anything less than what she felt like she deserved. Things didn’t go very well when she went home, which made her question if Cameron was to be her lifelong partner.
Somewhere in the darkest depths of her heart she knew the contrast between his skin color and hers would always pose a problem for them. They weren’t living in a world that had conquered their differences.