Blinded by Color

Chapter 19 Nivea

After yesterday's craziness, I decided I couldn't hang on to my newfound information, and I needed to tell Kayla immediately. What she will do with it I don't know, but I have to tell her. I opened my shop early this morning because I was booked solid, and now that I finally finished my last client, I decided to text Kay and give her the heads up we need to talk. I am pacing the floors back and forth in my shop, and not because I am nervous to tell her, but well, yea, I am nervous to tell her. I wasn't raised to be like everyone else. My parents were hippies, and they didn't agree with the life of Lutz. The people here are racist and see one side of every story, the white side. Kayla may be my best friend, but we have vastly different viewpoints. The topic never really comes into view because it's not one either of us brings up. I date a man based on his priorities. I need a man who is hard working like myself and has a business-oriented mindset but knows how to have fun. The color of their skin or their background is not necessarily important to me. There were times we went out in Tampa, and I hooked up with Puerto Rican guys on the dance floor, and Kayla made a scene by excusing my actions and chalking them up to one too many shots. The thing is, I was never drunk; I found them attractive but never felt the need to go there with her. It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't understand, or who doesn't want to understand, for that matter. I grabbed my energy drink and took a sip when I heard my doorbell go off, alerting me someone has walked in. I knew it had to be Kay. I took a deep breath and walked up front.

"Niv, what's this all about? I was completely caught off guard by your text. How did you find out some information about my dad? Who told you and why? What's this got to do with J?" She was bombarding me with questions, and I was like, okay, Niv, you gotta just tell her. Just come out with it. I told her it was best she sits down, and she told me no. I understood her fear and agitation because she was in a vulnerable position.

"Kay, listen, I am sorry to tell you this because I know you are not going to understand it or maybe not even believe it..."

"NIVEA, WHAT IS IT?"

I could tell she was losing patience, so I blurted it out. "Your dad had an affair, and you have an older sister, and she lives in Chicago. And that's not all; she's black." I stood there, afraid for a second that she might hit me. She wasn't saying a word, and then, out of nowhere, she sat down in a salon chair and started cracking up. Now, this was unexpected. I was happy to see her laughing, so I joined in. As I was laughing, I looked over at her and asked what was so funny.

She literally smacked my arm and was like, "I thought something serious happened, Niv. You scared me," and she kept on laughing. Now I am not a detective, but at this point, I am wondering if she is drunk or just losing it.

"Kayla, look at me, I am not joking. I have proof. I found her on Facebook. I can give you all her information. She's a doctor. Your dad cheated on your mom and got this woman named Seven pregnant. She had the baby and named her Tiffany Gray. I found the information while helping Miranda at Mrs. Levitt's house. She apparently saved all the newspaper articles and even kept a journal. Your mom was the one who told her Kay. Your mom knew all this time. I'm really sorry to dump this all on you, but I thought you should know."

Kay just sat there looking at the floor. After about five minutes, she turned to look at me with the most hateful face.

"You know what, Nivea, I don't care what you say or what proof you have. My dad wouldn't sleep with no black bitch. We don't do shit like that in my family, and especially not my father! How dare you or Mrs. Levitt tell lies about my dad after he's gone and can't defend himself. I thought you were my friend, but this crosses all types of lines, Niv. I'm leaving! I have nothing more to say to you."

I stared at my empty shop, wondering how we just went from cracking up to never speaking again. Hmm, that was strange. Not what I expected. Losing my best friend wasn't on my agenda, but I guess it added itself. I am just going to give her some time to marinate on these newfound facts. She will come around, and when she does, I will be waiting.