My Crowning Glory, page 9
“No, I shouldn’t because, I’m a grown woman and it wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t treat me worse than any of her other clients. Peaches is a great hairstylist just not the best people person. We don’t coddle each other in my family, we expect people to take responsibility for their actions and learn from their mistakes.”
“This is what I was talking about before, you’re so different since you started trying to go natural. You never talked to me like this before. Nothing I say matters to you anymore. You want everything your way and never mind what anyone else says.” Wilson turned his body so he faced me.
“I care what you think, Wilson I just am not going to change my mind about something as personal as my hair because it isn’t what you want. I’m supposed to live my life based on your preferences. That doesn’t make any sense.” My body mirrored his. “For the record, I’m not trying to go natural, it’s done. I’ve been without a relaxer for months and soon as I decide when, all this relaxer is being cut off. Not if, when, Wilson.”
“So you don’t care Peaches has lost two clients and our relationship is shaky because you want to see what you’ll look like with ... you don’t even know how your hair looks when you cut it off.” He grabbed my hands and leaned forward. “Don’t you care how this is affecting anyone else, Anisa? Your father doesn’t even want you to do this, which has to mean something to you.”
“No, he doesn’t want me to do it. But he isn’t threatening to stop being my father. Dad isn’t accusing me of being selfish or whatever it is you’re trying to call me. You’re upset because I changed my mind about wearing my hair the way it has been since the third grade. Do you know how crazy that sounds? I’m okay with changing my hair. You’re so freaked out you can’t accept, that I’ve done it.”
“Well, I’m not going to apologize for feeling this way, I won’t know what is going to happen next until you cut it off and I see it. I can’t help how I feel.”
Wilson waited for me to answer him but I couldn’t. He didn’t know what was going to happen in our future until he knew if he would like how I looked with my natural hair. The word to describe how that made me feel floated around in my heart, trapped between it and my brain. I loved this man, more than I knew I could love someone because of the way he respected my chastity but the respect seemed to stop at my bedroom door. The thought he stuck around and talked about marriage so much was because he wanted to be my first bounced around my brain a few times but seemed to stick around and linger more since I told him about my decision to cut off my hair. “Fake apologies have never been your style, Wilson. No need to start using them now.”
***
There is supposed to be a “spidey sense” like feeling you get in the pit of the stomach when you're about to be ambushed. If I had that feeling, it would have been activated when my parents invited me for dinner Sunday after Wilson and I fought, again, about my hair. But it didn’t happen. They lured me into their trap. They promised to invite a special guest I’d love to see. No one understood how much I loved surprises more than my mother did, so of course I said yes. My spidey tinglies would have kicked in if they worked. I’m going to be checked because I know people who have this feeling. They aren't ambushed over sweet potatoes.
My mother opened the door before I rang the bell. She only beat me to the doorbell when she watched the street from the panoramic picture window in the kitchen. This meant the guest was going to be someone super special. “Hi, mother.”
“Don’t hi mother, me. You arrived early on purpose to discover who the special dinner guest is going to be, you never were a patient child.” Her arms embraced me. Felt good to hug someone who wanted me to be happy, even if they didn’t like my decision.
“You’re right. I came early but it didn’t work. He isn’t even here.” My eyebrow rose. I held my breath.
“Nice try. Go to the den, your father is watching television, have a sweet visit.” Her hands pushed harder than her tone.
He perked up when I walked into the room. His recliner popped up and I folded into the warmest hug on this side of heaven. Warm lips pressed to my forehead and for a few moments, all was well in the world. “Hey, Doughnut.”
“What you watching, Daddy?” I sat on the end of the couch closest to his recliner. It smelled like Old Spice and sandalwood.
“History channel.” He turned his attention back to the television. A commercial interrupted the program and he turned his attention back to me. “What’s happening with your hair? Looks like you went back to your old stylist.”
“No, just had Tanya press it for the meeting next week. Wanted to give the transitional styles a break.”
"Humph."
Uh oh. I knew that grunt. He wanted to talk about something and the hair talk was a stall tactic. The doorbell rang.
“Anisa, your guest is here.” My mother’s voice pulled me from the start of a conversation I was sure I didn’t want to endure. “Mitchell, c’mon dinner is ready in the dining room.”
“Mom!” My feet made their way to my godmother so fast I almost tripped over them. “I would have never guessed it was you. Yay!”
“Maya, you look good.” My Dad gave her a quick squeeze. “Dinner looks good, Phyllis.”
We held hands and my Dad blessed the food.
“So how is your job going?” My godmother sipped her water.
These sneaks didn’t play fair, called in their ringer to convince me not to go natural.
“Good, just finished the preliminary research for a campaign we’re going to launch in the fall. Had an interesting talk with one of the other fellows about my hair, but I’m sure you already know that is why Momma and Daddy called you here.” I piled my plate high with food.
“Now what makes you say that?” My godmother winked at me.
“Don’t you guys think I’m a too old for this? My goodness, you’d think I was trying to move to Istanbul to marry a prince I met on an internet site for marrying royalty or something crazy, instead of changing my hair.”
Both of my mother's laughed at a joke, they shared, but no one said aloud.
“Your parents told me what happened and I talked with Janie about the pressure she is under to perform and produce a fellow who doesn’t leave her short like the last two. She is under an extreme amount of pressure. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life or wear your hair. I will say I want you to think about the long term impact of all your decisions.” My godmother picked up a drumstick.
“I think what Maya is saying is you should give wearing your hair straight more time. At least until you are offered a permanent position with the FHF after you complete your fellowship. We don’t think it should matter. You can change your hair anytime. This is your livelihood. Your impression and reputation today will follow you the rest of your life. Think about that while you're trying to decide what to do about your hair.” My father took a sip from his cup of tea.
“Maya, isn’t saying that at all, Mitchell.” My godmother sat her drumstick back on her plate.
“You know how Mitchell is Maya. Look, Anisa, I understand your desire to change your look but this is so drastic. It seems more a political statement than a style preference. People might not take the time to understand why you're doing it and judge you unfairly. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. Think about what a drastic change could cost you.” My mother patted my hand. “Just think about it. You have my support either way but I think you should wait.”
“If everyone is done putting words in my mouth, I’ll say what I should have said before.” My godmother turned my head, took my chin in her hands and lifted my face so we were at eye level. “You’re a brilliant, beautiful strong woman, Anisa. You’ve grown into someone more amazing than I ever imagined. I say do whatever you want to do with your hair because life is too short to live it for others, including these beautiful people giving both of us the side eye.”
We giggled as she let go of my face. “You think so, Mom.”
She touched my hand. “I know so. I’m sorry Mitchell and Phyllis but she isn’t a little girl anymore. She makes good decisions because we taught her. You know I’ve always told her to follow her heart.”
“That is fine for you, Maya but you know that it isn’t that easy in the real world. You face the same double standards and stringent biases Janie and now Anisa deal with at the FHF. Janie’s career advancement is on the line and I don’t want Anisa to have to work five times as hard as everyone else to have access to the same opportunities.” My mother touched my other hand. “Can’t you see we just want what is best for you?”
“But mom, I’m gonna work my best and hardest like I’ve always done. I want to be happy doing it because I’ve been true to myself and right now, that means going natural. Please respect that. I’ve made up my mind. I’d hate to start avoiding coming home because I think you’re going to keep trying to change my mind.” My mother nodded and looked down at her plate, my father returned my gaze. “Daddy, you too."
“Humph.” He picked up a chicken breast.
“You have always been stubborn, like your father.” My mother said.
“She has his stubbornness and your work ethic. I think she’ll be fine, Phyllis. I’ll call Janie and talk to her, our line needs to get together for anniversary soon.” Maya said.
My mother nodded and closed her eyes.
‘Thank you’ I mouthed to my godmother.
She winked.
No one knew how to smooth things over in the Links household like my godmother. My parents appeared to have accepted my decision to go natural. Everything my godmother said was true. The only thing standing between me and a pair of clippers was the right moment and my conflicted heart.
Chapter 10
Nothing calmed me, after I heard them talk about Janie. Until I had the realization nothing I did with my hair changed their desire to keep her from her promotion. My hair could be dyed blonde and they would still want to block her progress. I saw no point in both of us being miserable about people’s attempts to keep her from what she wanted. No need for me to walk around with a burnt scalp and flat limp hair because it might help her.
Porsche’s face lit up my phone. I pressed accept. “Hey, Porsche. On the way home to change now. I’ve had a day so be ready to sweat through your clothes.”
“Uh oh, trouble in paradise. You had another heart to heart with your boss?” The soft thump of bass played in the background.
“No, I think my godmother got to her and my parents. They’ve laid off me about changing my mind on going natural. I’m glad. The need to defend my right to decide what to do with my hair to them, every other week was becoming irritating. The only person still in denial is Wilson and he'll get over it soon. I think.” I eased off the gas to let a car into the space in front of me.
“That is the Anisa I know, thought I was going to have to do a hairvention to get you back on track. We’re too old for this Anisa. What were they saying about Janie that has you so riled up?”
“Apparently they are reluctant to let the good ol' boy system die and are hell bent on getting her to make some major screw up happen. One of them alluded to getting into the heads of her last two fellows but they weren’t sure how to get to me. They said the fact I don’t look like the others and am content not to become part of the office social infrastructure made me easier to crack.” My laugh sounded demented, even to me.
“You’re freaking me out a little, Anisa.”
“I’m freaking myself out. It makes no sense whatsoever for them to be plotting against someone trying to do the exact thing they’re supposed to be doing, which is help the public. They shouldn't be trying to get someone to fail on purpose. What way does that impact public health? So these last two disappointing fellows that have Janie questioning her decision to help more African American’s or minorities come into the agency were tampered with because they followed all that network and get to know your co-workers spiel they give us in our professional classes.” A man in a silver Benz tried to get my attention in the lane next to me.
“So what are you going to do? FHF is part of your plan. You’re the only person I know who actually did what they wanted to do when they were in school. Don’t let those people change your mind.” Porsche mumbled the lines to rap song playing in the background.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere except anger management if I don’t calm down and be happy going natural. All this time I’ve been spending trying to please everyone and change something about myself that is no one else's business. These crazy old people are just shifting their issues around in some nonexistent competition for some job they aren’t even eligible to apply for until they move two more pay grades. It’s crazy.” My foot let off the brake so I could inch forward out of the field of vision of the creepy old guy in the Benz.
“Now you really sound like my girl, don’t let those people upset you. Just focus on what you have wanted to do since the eighth grade, help people get healthy, without touching body fluids. I’m sure it will all work itself out, including when you're going to change your hair.” Porsche’s horn sounded. “These Atlanta people need to stay out of Macon until they learn how to drive. I hate when I see any tag from Dekalb, Cobb or Fulton County. Ugh!”
“You crazy. Well I’m almost home. I’m going to change. I’ll be there to pick you up first. You hear from Zoe and Ebonee?”
“Yes, Zoe is over Ebbs but we have to drop little bit over her Daddy house because they’re arguing again, and he hate Zoe so you or I have to take her in the house.” Porsche huffed. “You ever think about leaving Macon, I mean you could be part of the FHF anywhere ... doesn’t this all get old sometimes?”
“Yeah, it does, but I’m not leaving until I have a reason and somewhere better to go. I mean, Macon isn’t perfect but its home, ya know?” Thoughts of moving out west or up East danced around my imagination more times than I admitted to most people, even Porsche. The longest I’d been away from my parents was two weeks for an honors students event with more rules and lock down tighter than my father implemented the moment my breast appeared.
“Right, I know, but I still think about it.” Porsche cleared her throat. “Text me when you’re outside, I’m going to finish my look. I have to roll out looking extra fly. We don’t all have a good man on sideline. Bye.”
“Bye.”
***
Beyonce’s “If I Were a Boy” bumped in the background as Zoe and Ebonee laughed in the backseat. Breyonna bobbed her head to the beat in the rear passenger seat. We shared a wink as I pulled up into the driveway outside her Dad’s house. Porsche unbuckled her seatbelt with a sigh.
“You breathing alright?” Zoe clucked her tongue.
“Don’t start tonight, Zoe, it has been a long day. Some of us have taxing jobs and aren’t in the mood for drama after hours.” I leaned my head back.
“So dropping your goddaughter off is drama, now?” Ebonee crossed her arms.
“No, listening to Zoe pop off out of the side of her neck is drama, and I’m not in the mood for it tonight. I want to go to the club, dance, and sweat, stuff my face full of crap at the nearest diner afterwards go home and pass out. Anyone who stands in my way is gonna get checked. Hard.” My goddaughter giggled as I stuck my tongue out at her.
Porsche unfastened Breyonna’s seatbelt and removed her booster seat.
The car was so quiet I thought I could hear two crickets arguing in the grass.
Two girls from a house up the street where it is rumored Ebonee and Raheem’s relationship died, walked by the car. One wore a cute Baby Phat outfit and hair weave down to her butt. The other girl rocked a tight a curly afro braided into the cutest mohawk I’d seen outside the hair show.
“You see that crap. First time I’ve ever seen someone try to look like a rapper and a rock star in the same hairstyle. Who does that? I mean the color is whack and her braids look like a fourth grader did them. Raheem must be blind and stupid.” Zoe smacked her lips.
“That isn’t the girl. He slept with the other one with the Aphrodite weave. But I agree her friend’s hair looks confused. I mean who does she think she is? Normal people don’t wear afrohawks.” Ebonee chuckled.
All my patience for people and their opinions about natural hairstyles must have built up to that moment because I don’t remember the first half of what I said but I’m sure I used more profanity in those few minutes than I’d used my entire life. They were mortified by the time I took my first breath.
“Ain't no need for you to talk to us like that. We’re entitled to our opinions. We know you're all into this whole back to nature or whatever thing but you don’t have to attack us for disagreeing. You're tripping.” Ebonee crossed her arms.
“I’m not saying you have to agree but how would you feel if I had enough time to crack on every horrible hair weave you or anyone else I see wears. My gosh, I’d never have time to get anything else done and Zoe nothing nor anyone has been able to get half a nice word from you since that jerk broke your heart in high school. I’m over it with both of you. Either you learn some respect or I’m going to cut our foursome down to two. It’s enough already, we’re too old for this crap.” My heart pounded in my chest and a ton of bricks dropped from my shoulders.
“You feel better?” Zoe said just above a whisper.
“No, well, yes but I don’t know why. Her hair was cute, I’m not saying I’ll be wearing styles like that but I can see someone with something that looks good and say something nice or nothing. Maybe y’all talked about people like this before I decided to go natural and I’m just noticing, I don’t know but I do know I’m tired of it.” A door slam caught our attention.
Porsche shook her head from the door until she sat next to me. “This cannot be life. I mean, what the hell you said to him, Ebonee he is four alarm fires hot.”
“Nothing, someone told him, me and Michael were about to move in together and he’s been acting like a jackhole since he asked me. I refused to tell him anything because it isn’t his business who I live with, long as he sends me that check every month, we good.” Ebonee sucked her teeth.
