My Crowning Glory, page 3
Unable to justify lying in the bed any longer I dressed in my best slacks and button down blouse. My mother picked both out for me after she saw the sienna business suit and plum blouse I picked up at a local consignment boutique. “You need something subtle too, sweetie. You want to make a good impression, not stand out.”
The sigh I’d held then escaped as I looked at myself in the mirror. She made standing out sound like something dangerous. It reminded me of how sheltered my friends considered my childhood. My reflection in the mirror smiled. Every hair in place, shirt perched on top of my slacks at the right spot with just a hint of my true style in my four-inch platform honey brown loafers. A girl had to be herself somewhere in her wardrobe.
***
Ms. Collins looked the same as last time if not a little more frazzled. Something about her countenance seemed harried, no overwhelmed.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Links. Don’t you look efficient?” Ms. Collins extended her hand.
Cold hands warm heart. Warm hands sharp mind. Damp hands meant what? “My mom picked it out.”
“Yes, Practical Phyllis.” Ms. Collins chuckled at an inside joke between her and my absent mother. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be a stellar sequel to your mother, the blockbuster. No one knew this because we didn’t get the okay until the interviews but the fellowship has been funded for two more years beyond the initial time discussed.”
The air in the room felt electric. A job after graduation making full salary would be a weight off my parent's mind. Master’s degrees weren’t cheap and while my parents covered my living expenses, I was anxious to get off their “payroll” and support myself. Without my scholarships and part time job at the church, my graduate studies wouldn’t have happened. “That is awesome.”
Ms. Collins nodded with the energy of a toy dog. “My expectations are very high of you not just because you're a legacy but because you expressed succinct ambitions and goals for your career in community health advocacy. I’m looking forward to starting our work together.”
Gulp. Could she hear how loud I gulped? I hoped not because it sounded like a sonic boom in my head. Practical Phyllis wasn’t thinking about chopping all her hair off in six to twelve months. Ms. Collins seemed happy to believe I followed my predictable mother’s footsteps. “Well, I inherited my father’s love of helping people help themselves.”
“Very good, Anisa, very good. You start two Mondays after graduation. Your parents invited, Phyllis rather, invited me to your party. I haven’t responded yet, I hope that's okay with you.”
Hell, no! Heck naw! Arrgh. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on that middle-aged woman. Practical or not I wanted to pinch my mother for half a second. No sane college graduate wanted to do the stanky leg with her future boss around. A late nightclub hop with the girls had to be scheduled after the second graduation party my mother hijacked. “Of course, the more the better!”
“Your mother tells me you didn’t pledge undergraduate or graduate chapter but when I called you legacy you didn’t flinch. What can I say to convince you to don the pumpkin and teal?”
I spent the next ten minutes forcing my eyes not to cross or roll into the back of my head. This woman could not believe she’d convince me in one sitting to join the illustrious ranks of the Sis Phi Sis sisterhood when my mother failed after twenty-four years. Persistence is necessary to be a successful community health advocate. Check. Lesson learned, next find a way to end this conversation and get on with the rest of my day.
# # #
No need to look at a burger in a wax paper wrapper when you have filet mignon at home. Snuggled in Wilson’s chest, wrapped in his arms, felt like the best place for me on a Saturday evening. The smile on my lips faded as he fingered the ends of my hair. His chin rested on the top my head after he sniffed my hair.
My grip on his arms tightened and relaxed as I took a deep breath. Honey we need to talk ... Too melodramatic. Any time I used those words before it was to break up or something else negative. You know I’ve been thinking about ... That would be a lie. Thinking about going natural, stopped after the workshop in Atlanta, no I’d decided to let my new growth keep growing without chemical alteration. Too clinical ...
“Hey babe, did you hear me?” Wilson gave me a little squeeze.
“No what?” Uh oh. My heart beat like a bass drum in my chest.
“Never mind. You got a lot on your mind with graduation coming, huh?” Wilson kissed the top of my head. “Nothing to worry about.”
Graduation felt like a cakewalk compared to the anxiety attached to telling my boyfriend and parents about a decision about my hair. A new commercial for Marshall’s with a model rockin' a cute windblown curly fro felt like the perfect segway into my hair discussion. “That model is too cute. The one in the yellow pants hair is really cute.”
Wilson’s chest tensed. “Um, I guess. You know me I’m a slacks and polo shirt guy. I leave the fashion to you, babe.”
“Don’t you love her hair, though? I mean it looks cute and I bet she can do a lot of hot styles with it too. Straight, curly, wet, twisted. What do you think?” I tried to get comfortable against his chest but his body remained rigid.
“I’m sure she does, she is a very pretty lady. Nowhere near as fine as you, of course.” Wilson allowed his shoulders to relax.
“I’m sure I could pull that look off, the women at the Hair Show in Atlanta were rocking some fiyah styles. Think I’ll lay off the relaxers for a while and see what happens.” I could only imagine the panic stitched into his brow.
He cleared his throat almost four times. “That sounds good. You know I think you're beautiful no matter how you wear your hair, Nisa.”
I sat up and turned around to make look him in the eye. “I hope you mean that but even if you don’t, I’m going natural. Porsche and I have hair appointments and I’m going to let Peaches know how I want her to style it. Its gonna be the bomb, you’ll see.”
Wilson started to sweat as if I held a gun on him. “Great idea. Peaches is the perfect person to talk to about doing that to your hair. She is a professional after all.”
Beads of sweat popped up on his brow after he wiped his brow dry with a handkerchief. He pulled me back into his arms. It felt stiff and forced. His mouth said all the right words but if he sweated any harder, I’d have to get a bath towel. One Neanderthal down and two to go. If Wilson could live through it my parents would have to deal with it, too.
“When you going to talk to Peaches?” He adjusted his body to find a comfortable spot again.
“Not sure, it’ll be soon, though.” By the look in his eye, I think he hoped she would change my mind.
# # #
Babies used to be a weakness. Not because I want one, because they are so freaking snuggly. Don’t bother me with they don’t cost snuggly. Their sweet smelling necks and toothless grins captured my heart. No need to point out the obvious responsibility they brought with them. I’m young, not dumb. Ebonee is to be blamed for this problem. My goddaughter is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Despite my bias.
“So you’re really not going to get your roots touched up, anymore? Who's going with me on two for one Thursdays? C’mon Anisa. You did this same thing, junior year of high school when you decided to wear purple everyday of the year because you were royalty.” Ebonee’s eyes and neck rolled.
“Don’t give me grief. Help me find a stylist who does transitions and natural hair in Macon instead of bumping your gums about saving fifteen dollars. As much as you save on everything else you can afford it.” The urge to suck my teeth gnawed at my tongue so hard I almost bit it to stop myself.
“Gone with that, godmommie. Breyonna is not cheap. You’ve seen the bills I have to pay. Her daddy helps but that little child support doesn't even put a dent into her expenses. Things keep going like this and I’m gonna start a hood couponer blog so I can get some of that online money. These broads making money tablet over laptop.” Ebonee fingered her scarlet bangs.
“You know every hairstylist and they brotha in town. Help me find someone to transition my hair.” I rode Ebonee’s daughter on my knees like a horse.
“Wilson is gone hate me even more for taking money out of his cousin mouth, more money. She already don’t half like you, leaving her is gonna delay all those grand marriage plans floating through your mind.” Ebonee shook her head.
“Please she doesn’t like you because you only come to see her for two for one Thursday. Two for one only customers ain't keeping her in business. She is talking about ending the program anyway.” My shrug felt heavier than I liked. Wilson’s cousin is cool but my hair won’t come between us if we’re as cool as she made it seem. “Last time someone came in asking her about it, she talked the girl into getting a ‘texturizer’ which is nothing but a relaxer you rinse out early.”
“Don’t knock my hustle. You had better hope Peaches is kind, cause if not you could be doing the big chop involuntarily. Hairstylist revenge is a mofo for ya.” Ebonee laughed as she walked into Breyonna’s room.
“I’m not scared of Peaches. My parents moved to the suburbs that ain’t where they from. We countretto and I still know how to check a chick when I gotta. Humph.” The funny face I made at my god baby betrayed the around the way thug girl persona I attempted to convince Ebonee resided under my magna cum laude brain.
“This from the chick who graduated in the top five percent of her Master's program. Girl please you aren't go hard. The only thing you go hard on is some research.” Her cackle smacked me in the back of my head. “You just better hope I find someone and it doesn’t get back to her before I do, or you and Wilson may have a problem on your hands.”
“Please, I can handle Wilson.” A smell assaulted my knows akin to something I found in the biology refrigerator. “Did you make a stinky, NiNi’s princess? Ebonee why this little girl poot like a grown woman?”
“You changed her diapers. That smell wasn’t gonna get any better.” Ebonee sauntered back into the room and motioned for her daughter to go to the bathroom. “You had better start handling Wilson like a grown woman, if you want to keep him with all the changes you about to put him through. Chastity is only cute at our age as a name.”
Back to her favorite target, my sex life or abstinent life to be accurate. “My bedroom business is just fine. You just help me find someone to do my hair in the event, Peaches is still stuck in the last decade and not willing to help me transition to natural.”
“Alright, I’ll look around but no one is going to believe I’m going natural so you better go see her soon. My weave collection is envied in three counties. Can’t let you ruin my rep.” Ebonee stuck her tongue out at me.
“Plenty of natural girls wear wigs and weaves.” My tongue flashed back at her. “You need to do like that chick on the Braxton’s said and ‘get your life.”
“This is how I know you ain’t authentic countretto. You don’t even say it right. Lemme go check on this girl and make sure she hasn’t stuffed the commode with toilet tissue, again. Ride me over to her Daddy house then I’m all in for the weekend.” Ebonee shook her head as she left the room.
My street cred may have diminished, or never existed but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going through with my plan to transition my hair to natural. You’d think I was about to declare civil war or join a cult. Nothing excited me about my current hair options, so I changed them. No big deal. Right?
Chapter 4
Wilson had the sexiest hands I’d ever seen. That may be an exaggeration but I don’t care. His fingernails were always clean. They didn't sweat, weren't super cold or extra hot. When he took my hand tonight, our fingers synced. He had the sexiest hands. One day I hoped to discover how it feels when they “Do you see that girls hair!”
He dropped my hand.
My feet carried me to the side of a woman with shoulder blade length thick natural hair. The pattern of the waves in her hair looked like a twist out. I put my hands in my pocket before I touched it. “Oh my goodness ... your hair is so beautiful. Where do you get it done?”
She laughed. “Bella X’press by Danay Helena she is in Duluth.”
“Duluth?” Blank. My mind went blank. “Is that on the south side?”
She laughed again. “No, it is on the north east side of Atlanta. That is where I’m from, I’m here visiting a friend.”
Questions flooded my mind so fast my lips froze. Nervous laughter bubbled up in my chest. “I have so many questions. Your hair is so pretty.”
Thirty minutes later, my mouth went cotton dry.
“She needs to let somebody do something to that nest of mess on her head.” Wilson cussed in a low voice.
I cut my eyes at Wilson and hoped she didn’t hear him. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t come to Macon to be grilled about your hair. Please forgive me. I’ll look up the information for your stylist maybe she has some YouTube videos or a blog or something. That sounds too far for me to drive to on a regular.”
“No problem, I’m used to it.” The girl proceeded down the hair care aisle.
“Someone needs to make a natural relaxer to put those naps out of misery.” Wilson shook his head.
“You want to say that louder Wilson Jackson Greene. I don’t think she heard you but I did.” Fire touched the tips of my ears. Anger rose within me as I replayed his fake support the night I told him my decision. “So this is the stuff you’re gonna say about me when you think I’m not around or did you think I couldn’t hear you either.”
Wilson’s lips moved to respond but words refused to come out of his mouth.
“I didn’t think you were feeling it when I told you before but now I know you don’t want me to go anywhere near a natural hairstyle. Why didn’t you just tell me that?” I searched his eyes.
“You and she ... it’s not like ...” He licked his lips.
“Good thing you didn’t go into law because you’re a terrible liar.” My arms crossed. “She is breathtaking, her hair is so healthy it looked good under these horrible fluorescent lights and you have the nerve to make wisecracks. You attack a random girl because I decided to change my hair. Real mature, Wilson.”
“Wait a minute. Attack is a bit much. I cracked a joke.” Wilson reached for me as I began walking away. “Let’s talk about this decision you made, what is up with that?”
The linoleum floor squeaked as I pivoted around to face my man. Mr. Perfect looked very flawed as I stepped into his personal space. Our biggest fight to this point had been about how long we should wait after my graduation to be engaged, elope or move in together. “Ain’t a damn thing up with it. This is my hair. My everything and what I choose to do with it, despite everyone’s unsolicited advice and opinions, is up to me. You disrespected me when you didn’t tell me how you felt when I told you what I wanted to do, you disrespected that girl with those comments and you disrespected yourself for lying.”
“You’re upset.” He inched toward me. His hands brushed against my arms.
“Don’t touch me. Get whatever you came in here to get then you can take me home.” Air sucked between my teeth.
“You’re over reacting.” Wilson’s voice sounded faint as I made my way to his car.
“That is my business and choice to do, too. Don’t think I’ll stand outside waiting for you too long, Mr. Greene. My Daddy or someone else will be glad to come and take me home.” The automatic doors opened as I stormed out of the store.
Footsteps slowed behind me. Labored breaths caused me to look over my shoulder. Mr. Almost Perfect had enough sense to leave the store. He knew the day my dad picked me up would be the day we stopped speaking, to hell with the last four years. The flame on top of my ears spread to my neck.
“Nini, wait. Anisa!” He touched the top of my shoulder. “Please.”
My feet didn’t stop until I leaned on his late model Honda Accord. “Take me home, Mr. Greene.”
The ground must’ve been fascinating, Wilson stared at it and his feet for what felt like twenty minutes but were probably thirty seconds.
“I’m sorry.” Wilson whispered. He cleared his throat and smiled. “Forgive me for being a Neanderthal and loving to rub my hands through my ladies hair.”
“You must have me confused with someone else, you’ve never ran your hair through these strands. Maybe I do need to call my Daddy to pick me up.”
“You have every right to be upset. Just try to see this from my point of view. I like women with long hair. It isn’t something I’ve keep secret. Now you’ve decided to cut your hair off, without discussing it with me but I bet your squawking crew knew you were talking about going Macy Gray. They probably talked you into it.” Disgust etched across his brow and settled around the corners of the lips that held sweet kisses for me in the past.
“Calling my friends chicken heads is not winning you any points. I’ve known them since elementary school. Stop being so thirsty. Desperate and insecure looks bad on chicks it is downright gross on a dude.”
“Speaking of which, who nowadays is friends with the same people since elementary school after college. You’ve outgrown them. Move on.” Wilson took a step toward me.
“This is the kind of relationship you want me to sign up for til death do us part. Change my friends, keep burning my scalp and do whatever you want me to do. What next, stop working and waste the last six years of my life to be a stay at home mom when you decide to knock me up.” The crisp air filled my lungs. I savored the sting. “I’ll pass. Let me call my Daddy.”
“You’re a brilliant, beautiful woman, Anisa. You’re going to be like the Oprah of community health and like Stedman, I’m not afraid to watch you rise and succeed. Do you think Stedman just lets Oprah do whatever she wants to do? I believe he tells her the truth to help steer her toward more success.”
