Second Chance Page 2

  “What if I pick you up from work and give you a ride back to your grandmother’s on Sunday?” This must be big. He don’t usually make me offers like that.

  “Why you want me to go so bad? I barely know Uncle Willard, and I don’t know his new wife. I didn’t even know he wasn’t with the first one anymore, to tell you the truth.” My mom’s standing in the bathroom door again, looking at me from the corner of her eye as if to say, “Hurry up and finish in the bathroom so I can get ready for my man.” I better wrap this up without too much protesting. Family is family, as Mama says.

  “Jayd, don’t be difficult. Just come. You may have some fun. You could even invite your little girlfriends, what are their names?” he says, acting as if he really ever knew.

  “You mean Nellie and Mickey?”

  “Yeah, them girls. How’s school going anyway? Didn’t you start back this week?”

  “Yes, Daddy, but I really gotta go finish my hair now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “So, will I see you in a few weeks,” he asks, not letting me off the hook.

  “Yes, I guess so. Now, I need to finish my hair.”

  “Oh, yeah, and wear it pretty, not in them thug braids you always have in your hair. You’re such a pretty girl, Jayd, with good hair too. You need to take advantage of that and stop trying to be so hard all the time.” He doesn’t even realize how badly he just insulted me. My parents are enough to warrant me a couple of episodes on Dr. Phil.

  “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  Now maybe I can finish my hair. I’m too tired to put any braids in it now, that’s for sure. I guess I’ll just go with a simple press and curl and worry about the finishing touches tomorrow.

  2

  The Date

  “Never enough, render your heart to me/All mine you have to be.”

  —PORTISHEAD

  “Welcome to Simply Wholesome. What can I get for you?” I’ve been sweating the clock all day. It’s almost time for me to get off, and all I can think about is my date tonight with Jeremy.

  “May I have the spinach enchiladas, a small green salad hold the sprouts, with a wheat germ and ginger root smoothie?” She’s going to be on the toilet all night long.

  “That will be thirteen eighty-five.” I can’t believe how high the prices are here. Man, if I didn’t work here, I don’t know how I’d be able to eat this food.

  I know it’s some soldiers in here. Where they at? There’s Destiny’s Child again announcing yet another text message from KJ.

  “Jayd, please call me so we can talk about this whole Trecee thing. I want 2 put it behind us and get back to us. R u coming to Byron’s party 2nite? Maybe we can kick it, like old times. Luv, Your Man.”

  If he only knew that I got a new man to kick it with now. I can’t wait to get off work and call Jeremy. I know everyone’s gone trip when we show up at the party together. I’ve been looking forward to it since last night. I couldn’t even sleep, I was so excited. And, I can always get my sleep on, even on my mom’s little couch.

  Should I text message this fool back? Nah. Let him sweat, like he’s been doing since yesterday. For real, though. Last weekend I didn’t have a man at all. KJ broke up with me and I was dreading going back to school. Now I got two dudes on my jock, and the first week of school is over. Life just keeps on going.

  Speaking of which, I look at the clock and see it’s finally time for me to roll. I can call Jeremy while I’m waiting at the bus stop. I would ask my mom to pick me up, but I know she’s still sleep from her late night. She walked in the door as I was leaving for work this morning.

  “Later, y’all. See you in the morning,” I say to no one in particular. Everybody around here is real laid back.

  “All right, Jayd. You take it easy.” Shahid always speaks to me, even if he’s in the middle of taking a customer’s order. He’s the coolest boss ever. He doesn’t even look like the owner; he blends in with everyone else wearing dreads, tattoos, and low-key jeans and T-shirt. You’d never know he was a baller unless you saw him roll up in his black Jaguar. It’s his only indulgence.

  After cashing out my drawer and clocking out, I walk out the side door and down the stairs toward the bus stop across the street. It’s another hot, sunny day in L.A., and the people are out. The cars are gleaming, the sun is shining. But the exhaust from the buses and beat-up cars passing by mixed with the L.A. smog is enough to make me drop dead of lung cancer right here on the street.

  Most of the bus stops in L.A., just like in Compton, don’t have pretty little benches and covered spots like in the South Bay. Instead, they’re raggedy, tattered, and uninviting. So, I just need to find a place to lean so I can call this cat and see what’s crackin’ for tonight. I saved his number in my phone last night and gave him a special ring tone, so I know when it’s him calling.

  “Hello,” says a woman’s voice. It must be his mom. This boy gave me his home phone number? That’s rare nowadays.

  “Hi. Is Jeremy home?” I ask, trying to sound all sweet and innocent, like I ain’t jockin’ her son.

  “Yes. May I tell him who’s calling, please?” Wow. So proper and all. If somebody calls for me at my mom’s or Mama’s, they usually get a rude grunt followed by a loud-ass “Jaaaaaaayd! Pick up the phone.” Thus, the evolution of my cell.

  “Yes. This is Jayd.”

  “Hold on while I get him for you, Jayd,” she says with a deep, Southern drawl. It almost sounds like Mama’s.

  “Justin, tell your brother to pick up the line. He has a call from Jayd,” I hear her say to one of Jeremy’s brothers.

  He picks up immediately. “Hey, Jayd. How was work?” He sounds even yummier than he did last night.

  “Work was cool, thanks for asking.”

  “So, your hair and everything’s all done? No more excuses for not hangin’ out with me?”

  “Oh, you’ve got more jokes, I see. So, what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I was thinking, instead of going to Byron’s party, we could go to the movies and just hang out at the pier afterward,” he suggests.

  “But, my girls are expecting me,” I protest.

  “I know, and if you want to go to the party, we can. I just thought it would be nice to get to know you outside the South Bay High crowd.” He’s got a good point. I don’t want to run into KJ and Misty tonight, and I know they’ll be there with all the other folks. And, I’d much rather hang out with him tonight, if I have to make a choice.

  I wonder how late this boy’s trying to hang. I forget these White folks I go to school with don’t know anything about a curfew. At Mama’s I can’t even really go out. But if I should, I know to be home before 11 P.M. No question. It’s always been like that for the girls. The boys, on the other hand, have no curfew at all. Look at Bryan. He may come home, he may not. Let me try something like that. They’ll be talking about my ass whipping from Mama for years to come.

  “Well, I’m over my mom’s house, so as long as I get home before she does, it’s all good. And, she usually hangs out pretty late.” That’s the understatement of the year.

  “Cool. So, what time do you want me to pick you up? The evening flicks start at around 8 P.M.”

  “It’s 6 P.M. now. By the time I get home, shower, dress, and do something to my hair, it’ll be at least 8 P.M.,” I say. I hope the bus isn’t too crowded. My feet are barking after standing up all day. I have to sit down for the twenty-minute ride back to Inglewood. “Let’s say 8 P.M., then.”

  “All right. You want to give me directions now or call me later?” He’s so polite. Good home training.

  “I’m just chillin’, waiting for the bus to come. So I can give them to you now if you’re ready. Where are you coming from?”

  “I’m in P.V. You said you’re in Inglewood, right?” Damn, he lives in Palos Verdes? His parents must be ballers, for real. That’s where all the hellafied rich folk live. I heard Johnnie Cochran even had a house up there when he was alive.


  “Yeah, Inglewood. You know where the Forum is?” I say, offering up familiar landmarks because I’m sure he doesn’t know his way around Inglewood.

  “Yeah, where the Lakers used to play. Do I have to dial a code at the gate or anything?” He’s so cute. None of these apartments around here have security gates.

  “No. Just come on up and knock on the door. See you at eight. By the way, how should I dress?”

  “I don’t know. However you want to, I guess. I’ve never had a girl ask me that before. Just be yourself.”

  Myself. Well, which self should I be? The little rough-neck Jayd, the dashiki-wearing Jayd, or the laid-back, jeans-and-acute-top-from-Baby-Phat Jayd. That last Jayd seems most appealing. Yeah, that’s the Jayd going out with Jeremy tonight.

  “All right, then. I’ll see you soon, Jeremy.”

  “Bye, Jayd.”

  So, he wants to go to the movies and hang out at the pier. Which pier? I wonder. He must be talking about Redondo. I know it’s gonna get cold no matter where we end up, so I better take my jacket too. And, what about my hair? It’s so flat now. But after ten minutes by the beach I’ll look like a troll doll. I’d better give Nellie a call to let her know there’s been a change in plans.

  “Hi. You’ve reached Nellie’s voice mail. Please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you when I can. Toodles.” No answer. She’s probably getting ready for tonight. I hate to leave a message, but it’s better than not calling at all, I suppose.

  “Hey, girl, it’s Jayd. Sorry, but I won’t be at the party tonight. I made plans with Jeremy. I hope you understand, and tell Mickey to be good and I’ll see y’all at school on Monday. Holla back.” I know she’s going to be pissed, but she’ll get over it.

  When I get home, I decide to touch up my press and just let it lay back in a tight ponytail on the right side of my neck. I’m wearing my cute capri jeans from Lerner’s and my pink and white Baby Phat tank with my Baby Phat flip-flops. I gotta downscale the diva in me a little. I don’t want to overdress for the beach crowd.

  Usually when I would go out with KJ, he would give me explicit instructions on what to wear and how to wear my hair. I was there to accentuate his outfit, basically an accessory. It’s kind of cool just wearing what I feel like and not worrying about anyone saying anything about my toes hanging out at night, although I’m still a little self-conscious. And, I don’t want to be cold. If I don’t cover up my feet, I should wear something over my shoulders.

  As I open the living room closet to get my jacket, I hear a knock at the door.

  “Who is it?” I call out.

  “It’s Jeremy. I’m here to pick up Jayd.”

  Oh, no, this dude is early. This I’m not used to. I still have to put on my perfume, check my nose one more time, and say a little prayer that I don’t embarrass myself in front his fine self.

  “Just a minute, Jeremy. I’ll be right there.” I quickly spray on some Escada Rockin’ Rio and dab a little Egyptian Musk Oil behind my ears. My mom swears it drives Ras Joe out of his mind. My mom’s still in her room, recouping for tonight’s adventures I’m sure. I leave her a note on the fridge telling her where I’ll be and with whom. I check everything else and say a quick prayer before opening the door.

  When I do, I find Jeremy looking hella good. He’s wearing some typical White boy South High gear. Levi’s that are hella worn-out, loose fitting, but not too baggy, a T-shirt, a baseball hat with the rim folded real tight, and some brown, suede Birkenstocks on his feet. This cat is straight out of P.V.

  “Hey, Jeremy. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Hey, Jayd.” He looks at my ponytail, my big gold hoops hanging from my ears, my jeans, and finally, my feet. I’ve always been self-conscious about two things: my breasts and my Flintstone feet. I took care of my overly large breasts last year, but I think I’m stuck with my feet for life.

  “You look cute in sandals. Ready to go?” I don’t know if he’s joking or not, but I ain’t gonna compromise the one and only compliment I’ve ever received on my feet.

  “Thank you. Yeah, I’m ready. Will I fit in with your friends, or is the jacket too much?”

  “Jayd, you never struck me as a fashion queen,” he says as I turn around to lock the door behind us. “Damn, how many locks you got?”

  My mom has four bolts on her door. She’s been robbed a couple of times, so she’s not playin’ anymore. Now she just gotta worry about getting in the door in time if she’s running from somebody.

  “I know. My mom’s a bit paranoid.”

  “Is she here? Does she want to meet the White guy taking her daughter out?” he asks, only half joking in that way of his. He has the most beautiful smile. It’s like his eyes just light up when he smiles. And his teeth are perfect.

  “Did you wear braces?” I ask.

  “Where the hell did that come from?” he says, still smiling. “Yes, I did. Now answer my question. Does your mom want to meet me?” How do I tell him my mom’s tired out from her date last night, and conserving her energy for her date tonight, without making her look bad?

  “She does, but she’s got cramps. She said to tell you to be careful with her baby. So, be careful with me.”

  Jeremy takes my hand and leads me down the narrow stairway to the front where his car’s parked. What a sweet ride. His car is infamous around South Bay High. It’s a powder blue ’65 Mustang convertible with cream-colored leather interior. The original wood paneling is perfect. It’s the nicest car I’ve ever been in.

  “What did you do to get this car?” I say, knowing his dad’s an engineer with eighteen U.S. patents, so far. That’s another detail about Jeremy’s life that’s pretty widely known.

  “Actually, it’s kinda the family first car. My two older brothers both drove this car until they went off to college. Now I get to drive it until I go to college.” He opens the door for me, and I slide onto the leather seat. It smells like leather polish. Everything’s shining like he just got it washed.

  “You mind if the top is down? Or is it too much wind on you?”

  “Nah, I’m cool.” Good thing I wore my hair back.

  “I thought maybe we could skip the movie and just kinda hang out. It’s a nice night and I want to be outside. And, I want to talk to you, and we can’t do that in the movies.”

  I agree with him. The movies are cool, but it’s not conducive for getting to know someone. KJ and I used to go to the movies on the regular, and the only thing he was interested in was making out. This date’s already off to the right start, as far as I’m concerned.

  We end up in Manhattan Beach by the pier. It’s a trendy little spot. There are bookstores, chic clothing stores with shit I could never afford, and coffeehouses. My favorite coffee spot is right on the corner, The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.

  “You mind if we stop here? I want to get a Café Vanilla.”

  “Yeah, I like Coffee Bean too. I usually get the Chocolate Ice Blended,” Jeremy says.

  “Well, aren’t we just the exact opposite of each other,” I say, eyeing the joint to see if there are any other Black people around. Nope, not a one.

  “You wanna sit down in here or on the patio?”

  “On the patio’s good,” I say, claiming a seat with a sidewalk view.

  “I’ll get our drinks.” He’s such a gentleman. If I was with KJ, I’d be paying for my own coffee, since he’s not into the whole coffee shop thing. And we definitely wouldn’t be sitting down and talking up in this place.

  When Jeremy comes back outside with our drinks, we talk until the place closes. I find out he’s a true surfer dude. He wakes up at 4 A.M. to get out and surf every morning. His mother’s from Louisiana and his dad’s from Brooklyn. His mom’s a Baptist, his dad is Jewish, and he and his two brothers don’t know what to believe and don’t really care. He’s the baby of the family. They have a dog, Ganymede, that doesn’t bark.

  “I’ve never heard of a dog that doesn’t bark. Are you sure she’s not
broken or something,” I say, sipping the last of my drink.

  “No, she’s not broken. She’s a basenji.”

  “A what?” I ask. The only dogs in my neighborhood are pit bulls, dobermans and mutts, and they all bark.

  “A basenji. Better known as the African barkless dog,” he says, sounding very proud.

  “Now I know you’re lying. Ain’t nothing in Africa quiet, especially not a dog. What’s the point of having a dog that doesn’t bark?” I ask.

  “Well, I’m not getting into the history of Ganymede’s ancestors, but my mom specifically chose her because she doesn’t bark.” Now, that’s strange. Usually people get dogs to warn them of danger, which they do by barking. So why wouldn’t she want a dog that barks?

  “Okay, Jeremy, whatever. What about the name Ganymede? Where did that come from?”

  “Actually, I named her after one of the moons of Jupiter. It’s my favorite planet.” He pulls up his right sleeve to reveal a tattoo of Jupiter on his arm.

  “I’ve never known anyone to have a favorite planet,” I say, avoiding the secondhand smoke floating our way from the other people sitting outside. We must be the only nonsmokers out here.

  “Well, I don’t much believe in things I can’t see. So, you can kinda say Jupiter’s my concrete evidence in something else out there bigger than us.”

  “So, you don’t believe in God at all?” I ask. I’ve also never known anyone who’s an atheist. This date is just full of first-time adventures for me.

  “No, I don’t. Between my parents’ arguments about their beliefs and my own aversion to anything religious, I just don’t care too much about God and religion and anything like it,” he says, finishing the last of his Ice Blended.

  “Really? So, how do you think Jupiter came to be?” I ask, enjoying the conversation’s new direction.

  “Well, like I said. I believe something made us and the solar system, obviously. But, all the God stuff and spirituality and shit is just made up. I remember talking to Mrs. Bennett about it one day in class, and she almost passed out,” he says, referring to my most hated teacher, aside from Mrs. Peterson.