Brody looks in the mirror of the changing room and nods. “I do look good. You’re right about this shirt.”
“You always look pretty,” I say, standing behind him and putting my arms around him. “But those check shirts …”
He laughs, turns around and grabs a handful of my ass. “Take off your top,” he says in a husky voice.
I shake my head.
“C’mon, I want you to try one of these shirts on so I can see what it looks like, that’s all.”
“You just wanna see my tits,” I say and try to squirm out of his grasp.
“Yeah, for sure,” he says, slipping his hand under my shirt and running his hands all over me.
I like his touch. Very much, so I allow him to feel me up as we kiss.
Must say, it’s very tempting to give in to Brody – we love each other, we care about each other, and we both are committed to each other. But still…
“Let’s pay for these,” I say, pulling down my top and pushing him away. “You look so good in them; who knows I may just give in when I see you all dolled up.”
“Mff!” He pouts. “Like you will. Anyway, I don’t really care about how I look, but if you think I look ‘prettier’ in this shirt, then let’s take it. Take them all. I just want to get out of here ’cause I hate shopping for clothes.”
Excited, I rush the four smart T-shirts to the cashier. No more check shirts! Whoo! Hoo!
“So when are you changing your Facebook profile,” I ask as we walk hand in hand out of the mall.
“Soon,” Brody mumbles and looks away. “Been busy with stuff. You coming to lunch on Sunday?”
“Brody, I … I …you sure?” I’m confused–his mother clearly didn’t like me, so why is she inviting me to lunch?
“Yeah, Kate’s gonna be there as well.”
“Mmm.” As if Kate will make me feel comfortable in any way.
“I’ll show you my bedroom,” he whispers in my ear.
I grin. “I’m sure you will.”
“Now, let’s go for a run. I’m gonna teach you the correct way to run.”
God, I hate exercising. As for running …
Anyway, I want to impress him so I say. “I’m ready when you are. But don’t cry like a bitch when I kick your ass in a race.”
“Talking about ass …” He pinches mine.
“I just want to learn how to win at the Olympics next year,” I say, smacking his hand away.
He laughs and for the next hour, he gives me pointers. “Stay focused, keep your hands loose, don’t look back …”
He’s such a pro and he’s such a good teacher. How the hell does a guy like him fall for a girl like me? I’m so lucky.
****
When Brody picks me up for lunch at his parent’s, he hands me a box of chocolates. “For my mom,” he says.
I squint at him.
“You’re supposed to take something so …”
“Ah. Me and my uncouth ways,” I say with a smile.
His smile tells me it’s okay not to know these things.
Clutching the chocolates and feeling uncomfortable as hell, I go to lunch at Brody’s. His house is like a home out of a Homes for the Elite magazine. At the entrance to the long driveway stand heavy wrought-iron gates which swings open to let us in. As we drive along, we pass manicured lawns with red and yellow roses on one side and pink and blue hydrangeas on the other side. Beautiful.
As we approach his house, my nervousness peaks. “Gee, Brody,” I say, “I’m so nervous about meeting your family, again.”
“Why?” He takes my hand in his and leads me inside. “They’re gonna love you when they get to know you.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say as my stomach churns.
“Mom, Dad!” he calls as we enter. His parents appear almost immediately. “You’ve met Burn,” Brody says.
“Ah yes,” Dawn McGraw says and nods at me, her lips pressed tightly together, a saccharine smile on her lips. Dawn’s wearing white pants, white strappy top, a tan jacket and a bronze belt. Her jewelry is simple and classy. Her hair is streaked and flicks away around her shoulders. She looks like she’s stepped out of a women’s magazine.
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. McGraw,” I say politely, as I hand her the box of chocolates.
“Chocolate? How … nice.” Her tone of voice tells me it’s not nice.
“Hello, Burn,” Robert McGraw says in a polite but distant voice. He gestures for us to enter the living room.
The living room is furnished with white, designer couches, mahogany, ornate furniture, huge paintings and expensive looking drapes. It’s stylish, plush and immaculate. I cringe inside when I think of what Brody must have thought when he saw my house for the first time. He’s such a darling that I don’t think he’s even noticed.
We sit in the living room. Just as Brody leaves to get us drinks, Kate Spelling and Nick breeze in.
Dawn jumps up from her seat and opens her arms to Kate, who rushes into them. They hug like mother and long-lost daughter.
“How lovely to see you again, Kate!” Dawn says. “You look as pretty as ever.”
“And you,” Kate gushes, “Your hair is fabulous, Dawn.” She’s not calling her Mrs. McGraw I notice.
“Ah, thank you.” Dawn leans towards Kate and drops her voice “It’s the Parlor shampoo honey – fabulous stuff. I can’t live without it. Even when I go to my hairdressers, I make sure I take my shampoo and conditioner with.”
“It works, I can see that. And the color – it’s great!”
“Nutmeg highlights, hon – very flattering.” She winks at Kate.
“For sure,” Kate gushes. “You look amazing! I wish my mom would do this to her hair. She could learn so much from you.”
“Oh, now don’t let your mama hear you say that,” Dawn says, a pleased smirk on her face.
Then it’s Dawn’s turn to compliment Kate on the way she looks. Kate does look nice – she’s wearing skinny blue jeans, a bright blue T-shirt and a white jacket. She wears heels and her hair is as shiny as Dawn’s.
I took great pains with my looks today, yet I feel shabby, unattractive and …poor. Slowly, I tuck my white scuffed heels, with my worn-out heel tips out of sight. My hand goes to touch my hair – wish it was straight and blonde like theirs. Maybe I should have worn a skirt instead of black jeans. Compared to Kate, I look fat and frumpy.
They chat away about people they know and places they’ve been to, while I sit alone at the far end of the room and am excluded from their private conversation.
Finally, Kate looks at me. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Burn. What a lovely surprise.” Every word of hers seems well chosen.
“Yeah,” I mumble, then shrug.
“Oh, you two know each other?” Dawn says.
Well, if we didn’t know each other, Dawn should have introduced us. It would have been the polite thing to do. But she didn’t plan to, it seems.
“Hey, how’s your mom these days?” Dawn asks, steering the conversation back to the two of them and excluding me once again.
“Oh, but you have to come too,” I hear Dawn saying to Kate. “You don’t need an invitation – you’re like family now.”
Guess I will never hear those words from her.
Dawn really adores Kate – imagine her face if I had to tell her that Kate Spelling was pregnant with another guy’s baby? Her nephew’s child? Not that I would.
Brody arrives with the drinks looking so happy, that I try to be happy for his sake. “All my favorite people under one roof,” he whispers in my ear, then kisses my cheek and takes my hand in his. From the corner of my eye I see Dawn’s eyes narrow. I move my face away and smile at him. I feel bad, because he’s such an affectionate person, that touching, hugging and kissing comes naturally to him.
We sit down to lunch. I cling to Brody’s hand, as I am so intimidated by the fanciness of everything – the plate settings, the heavy crystal glasses, the gilded soup bowls, the different forks …
I’m so nervous about using the wrong fork that I wait to see which one Kate uses, before I pick up mine.
Man, I could do with a drink. An alcoholic one. A few alcoholic ones.
As we lunch, Dawn continues chatting to Kate. Now and then, for Brody’s sake I assume, she throws a question at me. But other than that, she basically ignores me.
I’m too nervous to focus on thoughts or reading anyone’s mind right now.
After lunch, Brody shows me around. I’m so relieved to be out of Dawn’s company that I hurry after him.
His house is truly lovely, better than my dreams will ever be. Dawn’s bedroom has been professionally decorated and her bathroom is almost the size of her bedroom.
“What is that lovely smell?” I ask.
“Oh, that’s my mom’s Parlor Shampoo,” Brody say. “It’s her favorite. She can’t live without it. I pinch it sometimes.”
“Really Gaylord?” I say.
“Yes, I’m a pussy,” he chuckles.
As we walk towards his room, he points to a window in the passage. “See this window?” He drops his voice, “It’s what Nick and I use to sneak in and out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you jimmy it and it opens up.” He winks and leads me to his bedroom. His messy bedroom with his unmade bed.
When we enter his room, he turns and locks the door. With a grin, he pushes me onto his bed and makes out with me. It’s great lying in a bed in Brody’s arms and it’s really easy to give in to temptation and go all the way.
I mean, I love Brody and he loves me and it’s almost right.
I try to get out from under him, but he holds me down and pushes up my skirt. “Say ‘yes’,” he whispers in a husky voice.
“No, Brody, get off me!”
“Say yes!” he whispers as he nudges my thighs apart with his knee and positions himself between them.
“Brody!” Dawn calls, saving us from another argument about the same thing.
He hops away from me and darts to open the door for his mother. I scramble to sit up then dive to the window as if I’m looking outside.
I notice Dawn’s eyes flit between me and the bed. She surprises me by taking my arm and leading me to the patio. “Let Burn and I get acquainted, Brody,” she says as she steers me away from him.
“No, Brody, don’t leave me alone with her!” I want to shout.
“Sure thing mom,” Brody says.
My gut twists at the thought of being alone with her.
We sit across each other on the patio and sip on our drinks. I should have brought one of those hip-flasks, I’m thinking. Mental note to myself: invest in a hip-flask or pinch Carlene’s.
After some more small talk, she dangles a gaudy bracelet in front of me. “Isn’t this precious?”
“Yes, it’s really pretty.”
“Alicia bought it for me.”
“Alicia?”
“Alicia Cooper, Brody’s girlfriend.” She twirls the bracelet as she talks. “She’s got such great taste.”
I’m Brody’s girlfriend, so what the fuck?
As if she too has the gift, she reads my mind and smiles. “You’re a friend, right? You can’t be his girlfriend because Alicia, she’s his girlfriend.”
“I … I think Alicia and Brody broke up months ago.”
“Oh really? Wonder …” She looks at the sky and drums on the glass table with her acrylics. “Mm, wonder why she was here for dinner last week, then?”
“What?” I almost choke on my drink. “Last week? That’s … that’s not possible.”
“Alicia was here last week, you’re here this week – Brody sure is busy.” She gives a merry laugh.
I stare at her, gobsmacked.
She whirls to look directly at me. “You know, my husband plans to become president one day.”
I nod, still confused and disturbed about Alicia having dinner with them last week.
“It’s a big responsibility our family carries. Our boys, they have to toe the line and ensure they … you know, do as he says, do the right thing …” She examines her nails and frowns. “Alicia’s father and Robert are really good friends.”
Alicia again. I silently fume.
“Been friends for years. Brody knows how much we like her and how both families love the idea of them both carving a future together. I mean, don’t they look great together?”
She can’t be serious. I put my fingers to my temple, feeling intimidated and even passively bullied.
“You know, Robert believes that Brody has what it takes to become President of the United States of America one day. Follow in his father’s footstep. Alicia will make a great First Lady, don’t you think?”
I stare at her, unsure what to say, my lips pressed tightly together. I mean, she’s fortyish, I’m seventeen – how is that even? How could this ever be a fair fight?
“She’s blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful skin … just perfect.” Everything you’re not.
For the first time in my life, I feel colored.
I feel inadequate, poor, less.
I slowly get to my feet and look at her. I may be seventeen but I have feelings and I don’t want to sit here and be put-down.
“Sit down!” she snaps. Her eyes are dark and hard, her voice equally hard. Intimidated, I slowly sink into my chair.
“Brody knows his place – both my sons do.” Her lips press together as she glares at me.
“Brody loves me,” I whisper.
She nods. “Maybe. But he knows where he’s going long-term, honey. Think about it – where does he take you every time you go out? To some far-out place, right? Somewhere nobody knows you both.”
“Wha …?” What the hell she’s talking about? I look at the floor, my mind racing. Yes, for the last six weeks, we’ve been to way out places. She’s right! Hurt bands around my heart. Why would Brody do that to me?
“His father has discussed it with him and explained that we … our family, we’re very traditional and even conservative and we believe, Burn, that everyone in life has a place. Step out of that place and you upset the status quo. We’re decent, God-fearing folk, Burn. We go to church, and 2 Corinthians 6:13 …know what it says, Burn?”
I shake my head.
“It says that you should never become unevenly yoked. That means white should marry white and black should marry black or you will run into all kinds of unnecessary problems, Burn. You don’t want that now, do you?”
I stare at the floor. I don’t know the Bible and I don’t even know what ‘yoked’ is.
“Do you?”
“Well, no, I guess. But Obama, he’s like me,” I argue. “He’s president. And my mother is white too. Was.” I put my fingers to my temple. “It shouldn’t make …”
“Maybe, but all Robert’s supporters, Burn, they will dump him like a hot potato the moment they find out that Robert’s son is a … is seeing someone who is other than white, Burn. Know what I mean?”
“But …but that’s just horrible of them to do that.”
“I know, I know. But what can we do? It is what it is.”
I cover my face with my hands as Dawn’s words and threats wash over me, as I try to understand Brody’s two-faced actions, as I try to make sense of all that I’ve just heard.
“Brody has no choice but to end things with you. Soon. He knows it. Do you get it?”
“I … he…he brought me to lunch, to … to meet his parents. That means …” I swallow hard, trying my best not to bawl. “That means he cares about …”
“Yet, Alicia was here last week.”
I want to throw up. I hang my head as disappointment floods my soul.
She puts her hand on mine and it’s like touching marble – smooth but cold. “I’m thinking, let’s make it easy for him and just end things right now, Burn. Spare you and him and everyone around him the pain and discomfort of …”
I snatch my hand away and glare at her, nostrils flaring, hot tears pricking the back of my eyes. “No! I care about Brody and he…”
“So you … don’t mind that he’s seeing Alicia and you at the same time?”
“I do mind!” I spit. “I mind very much.”
She gives me a there-you-have-it look.
“Well, there has to be an explanation. I’ll look into it, see what the problem is and make Brody sort it …”
She grabs my arm and puts her face in mine. “You listen here!” she says in a harsh whisper. “I have a beautiful home, a beautiful husband who dotes on me, two beautiful boys who are my life, and I have worked my butt off to get all of this.”
I try to jerk my arm away, but she hangs onto it.
“I am the envy of every woman I meet and I like it. A lot. Don’t you dare ruin my family by embedding yourself in Brody’s life, you hear? It will be a cold day in hell before I let you taint my bloodline with that hair. You hear me?”
My hand flies to my hair.
“I’ve seen the bill he’s racked up on my credit card. A gold chain, expensive dinners? Grocery shopping? And I have to pay for it? Groceries? Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I …I didn’t ask him. He just wanted to.”
“Brody is my pride and joy. When he was a baby, he was so beautiful, people used to stop me in the street just to talk to him. Robert and I have plans for him. Big plans and they don’t include you. Alicia has been handpicked for him when they were just babies. He knows that. He understands, and in the end, he will do the right …”
Robert steps into the patio and Dawn quickly straightens up, links her hands on her lap and smiles.
“Hey, Bobby!” Dawn says in a lyrical voice. “Just briefing Burn here …” She cocks her head at me. “Is Burn your real name? Short for Bur … na … dette, by any chance?” Her smile grows wider.
She’d make a great executioner. I mean, I’m gutted and she smiles like we’re discussing Real Housewives of Atlanta or something. Just how does she do it? I shake my head for Robert’s sake, trying hard to swallow the bubble of disappointment in my throat.
“Ah.” She looks at Robert. “Bobby, honey, I was just telling Burn about our dinner last week with Alicia and her family and how much fun we had.”
He nods and something in his eyes tells me that he is aware of our “special talk”.
Then Brody, Nick and Kate join us, laughing and chatting. Brody sits next to me and takes my hand in his. Even though I feel like I’ve swallowed glass, I manage to grimace a smile. But, I don’t join in the conversation. I would like to drag Brody away and slap him senseless for doing what he did, but I’m in a state of shock. My hair … I can’t believe she said that.
Brody is obviously clueless – laughs and jokes with everyone and that irritates me a bit. I mean, surely he should know me by now to know that something is amiss?
“I should be going,” I finally whisper to Brody. “Angel …”
“Oh, okay.” He hops to his feet and slides his arm around my waist.
“Thank you for having me,” I mumble to Dawn without making eye contact with her.
“Burn, it’s been really great meeting you,” Dawn says. “Now Brody, you drive carefully with Burn, you hear?”
“Sure, Mom!”
“And hurry home, son. I need your help with some things.”
“Yeah, Mom, okay,” dutiful Brody says.
As we drive, Brody looks at me and frowns. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just …” I give a small smile. “Bit of a headache.” I long to ask him about Alicia and all the things Dawn told me, but I’m so afraid of his answer, that I swallow my questions. Instead, I withdraw and fall silent.
When we stop at a red light, he leans over and kisses my hair. “I’ll kiss it better.”
I grimace a smile, but say nothing.
After he leaves, I lie on my bed and post-mortem my conversation with Dawn. I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. As everyone knows, not only do I suck at math, but I never get the answers to any of those lateral-thinking jokes. I seldom do crossword puzzles and if you give me a Rubik cube, you’d better give me a hammer with it. So, I’m struggling to make sense with all that Dawn told me, to work out the logic of it all. I just know that I feel a dull but consistent pain in my chest and the urge to bawl hovers like a black cloud.
It’s true, Brody has been taking me to some way out places recently. I put it down to him being adventurous and just wanting to try different places, but now, after Dawn’s remarks, I feel betrayed by him and the dull pain intensifies. I now question everything he did, everything he said, every promise he made.
What if I looked like Alicia? Would all that change? What if I didn’t have “that hair”? Would I be more acceptable?
I jump out of bed and rush into the bathroom, where I peer at myself in the mirror. Yuck! I look downright ugly. Suddenly, I hate my mother for putting me in this situation, for marrying a black man and giving birth to me – a less than perfect person. Why couldn’t she think before she had children with him? Stupid, unthinking bitch!
Then I rush to my bag, take out my purse, empty all my money on the bed and count it.
Erro appears in my line of vision.
“What do you want?” I hiss.
“Nothing,” she says. “Just wondering what you’re up to?”
“Can’t you see? I’m counting my money so I can go to the store, buy some hair color and color this …this mess I call hair!” I slap my head several times.
“Hair color?”
“Blonde hair dye, if you must know. And I have enough for it here.”
“I see,” she says in a voice that tells me she doesn’t see, which irritates me right now.
Ignoring her, I grab my purse and race towards the mall. She follows silently. “You don’t have to follow me,” I say. “I’m okay on my own, you know.”
She shrugs.
With Scandinavian Blonde hair color firmly in my grasp, I hurry home.
Erro is not eating – she just looks at me with concern. “What?” I ask. “Why you looking at me like that, Erro?” My voice is crackly and I still have that pricking sensation behind my eyes.
“You need to stop and think about what you’re doing, Burn,” Erro says in a kind voice.
“Listen, Erro, you don’t understand – if I’m blonde and blue-eyed, then Dawn, she will love me. Don’t you get it?”
“But you can’t be that, Burn. You can only be you.”
“Yes, I can. Tina, she’s got blue contacts and she’s bringing them over. I can wear them, then I will look beautiful like Alicia and Kate. So please, keep out of it. It’s all about looks. I know what I’m doing. I got it covered. Relax.”
Turning my back on her, I apply the hair color and impatiently watch the clock. After I rinse out the hair color, I spend hours blow-drying and hot ironing my hair till it’s poker straight. Then I slip on, with great difficulty, the blue contacts Tina dropped off. I look in the mirror and nod even though my eyes burn like hell.
“See? My hair is blonde, straight, I have the bluest eyes and I look great.”
“But you don’t look like Burn anymore,” Erro points out.
“So? I don’t want to look like Burn. She’s …ugly and …” I shiver with disgust at the thought of what I looked like before my hair color and before my contacts.
“People change their looks all the time. It’s not a biggie. Pink changed her hair color from whateva to pink. Lady Gaga wears wigs, seldom her real hair. Even Oprah wears a wig so she can look like anyone other than Oprah.”
Her nod is reluctant. “They change it for themselves, Burn, not because they’re trying to get into Dawn’s club.”
I roll my eyes. She just doesn’t get it. How could she – she’s white?
“Burn, what if one day, Angel tells you that she hates the way she looks and wants to change her hair, her eye color, her…?”
“That’s crazy. Angel is blonde and blue-eyed – she’ll neeeever have a problem.”
“You mean like Kate Spelling? The one who got knocked up?”
I look at her and blink rapidly.
“She doesn’t look very happy to me, you know. Even with her blonde hair and cornflower-blue eyes.”
“I … I …” As I think of Kate and Bud and Brittany, confusion reigns over me. I mean the thought of Angel feeling anything like I’m feeling now, is a shock to my system. She’s so lovely and she shouldn’t let anyone tell her otherwise, because they’d be lying. Suddenly I’m drained, exhausted. Slowly, I sink into a chair.
Could Erro be right? Maybe I need to re-think this. Tomorrow. I’m too tired to think right now.
But, I’m not too tired to hate Dawn McGraw. She doesn’t know me, doesn’t know of my flaws, my likes, my dislikes ...so what makes her dislike me so much?
My looks. My color.
Anger wells up inside of me. How could she make me feel this way? How dare she?
As tears flow down my cheeks, I make a silent vow – one day I will get back at Dawn McGraw. Somehow, I will.
I go to bed fantasizing about it – I will be in a position of power and she will come to me and beg me for …for something. I will be dressed in a beautiful, floor-length designer gown. I will look at her and shake my head. “Sorry Dawn, but we just aren’t able to accommodate you. So sorry.” She will look crushed, broken and her eyes will fill with tears like mine did earlier on today.
Yes.