LITMIR.BIZ

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on my worn-out cell. The last thing I want to do is have a long conversation with him, which usually ends in an argument. I’m going to make this as brief as possible.

      “Hello there, youngin’,” my dad says, sounding as country as ever. The sound of his voice alone gives me shivers.

      “Hey Daddy. I’m just checking in. How are you?” I ask. The bus is down the street and approaching my stop, giving me the perfect reason to cut short our conversation if need be.

      “I’m fine, girl. How are you?” He usually sounds happy to hear from me but he feels the same way about chatting with me as I do: less is definitely more.

      “I’m fine. Waiting at the bus stop. How’s the family?” His side is more like a clan that I’m not a part of, but I’m trying to be sweet like Mama taught me.

      “Your stepmama and brother and sister are fine, but you’d know that if you came by more often,” he says. What am I supposed to do—fly to his house? He knows I’m dependent on others for a ride and my mom damn sure ain’t taking me over there. When she left him before I was born, she swore she’d never step foot in that house again and she hasn’t broken her word yet.

      “I would come over more often if I had a way there,” I say, but we both know that’s a lie. I could think of a million other places to go before stopping in his hood. It’s enough that I have to attend his family functions. But voluntarily spending time with him isn’t an option.

      “Well, you never did get back to me about your driving lessons. I already told you I’d pay for them,” he says. I can tell from his tone he’s salty about me stalling. I’d rather earn the money and pay for them myself than take the offer from him, which will inevitably have a price of its own.

      “Right,” I say as the bus pulls up. “I’ve been pretty busy and I’m looking for a new job,” I say without telling him I no longer have my job at Simply Wholesome. I don’t want to hear his mouth about that one. “But anytime you set it up should be good.”

      “A new job? What’s wrong with the one you have?” he asks, fishing for more information. I’ve been working since I was ten years old because of his refusal to pay child support properly—he doesn’t have the right to question me about my money.

      “I need more money.” And a better schedule and independence, but he doesn’t need to know all that.

      “Well, I can respect that,” he says. People are lining up to get on the bus and I hate to talk on the phone while I’m riding. “I’ll give them a call and let you know when it starts. Should they pick you up from school or your grandmother’s house?”

      “School would be better for me. My bus is here so I’ve got to go,” I say, rising from my seat and joining the long line of passengers. Some dude is putting a bike on the front of the bus, and that always takes a long time.

      “All right then, Jayd. I’ll talk to you later. Before you know it, you’ll be driving and you won’t have to wait at the bus stop anymore.” From his lips to God’s ears.

      “Does that mean you’re going to help me buy a car?” I ask, sounding hopeful even though I should know better. My daddy offering to help is a miracle all by itself. I really shouldn’t push it.

      “I’ll pay for the lessons. You and your mother will have to work out the rest,” he says, deflating my bubble before it gets full. Why do I even bother?

      “What’s the point of having a license if I have nothing to drive? And, how is my mom supposed to help me when she barely makes enough for us to live on?” Or did he forget he left her with nothing and pays no alimony?

      “I’m sure some of her men will help out,” he says. My dad is always salty about my mom’s independence. Honestly, I can’t see how they ever got together. They’re so different and he’s a control freak to the max. But rather then sass him, I hold my tongue and rush him off the phone.

      “Dad, I’m losing my signal,” I say, walking up the steps to show the driver my pass. She glances at it and shakes her head at me for being on the phone, pointing to the multiple signs that say “No cell use.” She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

      “Be safe and I’ll talk to you later,” he says before hanging up the phone. I wonder if he treats my sister the same way he treats me. I also wonder how his new wife tolerates his behavior. Maybe she doesn’t mind and, I admit, he does have his good points, but he rarely lets me see them.

      When I get home, I’ll start on my homework for the week and do a little studying in the spirit book if I have time. I never did find the tea my mother listed in her notebook to stop Esmeralda nor did I make the gris-gris for Rah to keep the broads away from him. I want to ask her about the tea this weekend when I see her and talk to her and Mama about my dad paying for my driving lessons. If anything gets both of their heads hot, it’s the subject of my father. I’ll wait until I’m at Netta’s shop tomorrow to break the news to Mama. At least there I’ll have some backup, in case Mama explodes.

      Ever since yesterday’s scene with Mickey’s man, I’ve been avoiding Mickey like the plague, which also meant avoiding kicking it with Jeremy and the rest of the crew all day long. All I wanted to do was to be by myself and study. And it doesn’t help that I have to see Reid and Laura at lunch rehearsals and in class every day. I must admit, Reid is good at his role as Macbeth but that still doesn’t change the fact that he’s an ass. I haven’t missed being in a room with him, but he seems to be enjoying our unplanned reunion. He always goaded me into arguments last year when we were on the debate team together. But I’ve had enough of Reid for one lifetime.

      I’ve been anxious about talking to Netta all day. I know she prefers to work alone, but I hope she lets me be her apprentice. Netta’s hair skills are tight and she could also use the company. Before I have a chance to talk to her about it, she and Mama attack me as I walk in the door, and they’ve been grilling me the entire afternoon since. I knew I shouldn’t have told my mom about my dad’s offer last night when she probed my mind. She can’t keep a secret for nothing.

      “Jayd, you really should think twice about letting your daddy pay for your lessons. Girl, you know how manipulative he can be,” Netta says, clamping the hot curlers fresh out of the miniature oven sitting at her station. “Tell her, Lynn Mae. Tell that girl how manipulative her daddy can be.”

      “Calm down, Netta, before you burn my ears,” Mama says, folding down her right ear so Netta can curl her hair. I’m always amazed at how quickly Mama’s hair grows. “Jayd knows who she’s dealing with.”

      “But it’s like making a deal with the devil, Lynn Mae. Tell her.” I think Netta’s more passionate about hating my daddy than Mama is.

      “Okay, to be fair I think he’s just trying to help in his own way,” I say. Usually I wouldn’t dare defend my daddy, especially not to them. But they’re missing the bigger picture, which is to my advantage ultimately: I get to learn how to drive and that’s more important than their vendetta.

      “Help, my ass, Jayd,” Mama says, spinning herself around to face me. “I know you know better than that. You just want the same thing your mother wanted: a car. And like your mama, you’ll settle to get it.” Damn, it’s like that? If I let my daddy help me, I’m settling? I just want something that normal teenagers have.

      “Mark your grandmother’s words, Jayd,” Netta says, tilting Mama’s head forward to put the final touches on her crown. “That man don’t mean you no good. I hate to talk to you like that about your daddy, but it’s the truth or this ain’t Netta’s Never Nappy Beauty Shop,” she says, waving the hot curlers toward the neon sign on the front window.

      “She’s right, Jayd. Your daddy has a history of hurting your mother through you. Don’t give him another chance.” I know Mama’s right. His little comment about my mother’s men wasn’t a slipup. He knows he’s got something I want and will find a way to use it to his advantage. Mama sure knows how to make me feel like a traitor, but I don’t

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