Blinded by Color

Chapter 21 Kayla

I pulled up to my house, fuming with rage and frustration. I couldn't believe Nivea. How could she? I was confused about how any of this could be true. First of all, my father would never sleep with another woman, let alone a black woman. That would be crossing major boundaries. That is disgusting. I can't even imagine my father looking in a black woman's direction. He would never disrespect my mom like that. They loved each other. Their marriage was sacred. My father was not a cheater. I stayed in my car, trying to process all of this. I was beyond mad at Niv. How dare she! This was low even for her. I know she loves drama, but to destroy my father's reputation and disrespect him like that was going too far. I felt sick to my stomach. How could she have proof? An old lady's diary is not proof. The frustration turned to fear, and then I couldn't stop crying. I feel like I am living someone else's life right now because this cannot be mine. A sister? A black sister? Omigosh, I can't have a black sister. I can't. I will kill myself before I claim a black girl as my sister. How could this happen? The tears were so warm they started to burn my cheeks. I felt like I couldn't breathe. My whole body felt numb. There is no way! No fucking way! I punched my steering wheel over and over again. My horn was blowing each time, but I didn't even notice. I couldn't even see straight. Knock, knock, knock, I looked over to my driver's side window and saw my mom standing there smoking a cigarette. I opened the door, and she glared at me like she didn't recognize who I was.

"You okay? I heard your horn going off and thought maybe it was for me to come out." I was crying so hard I couldn't even answer her. Slim put her cigarette out and leaned in the car to help me get out. My mom had been sleeping, and this was the time of day she was practically sober so she could think clearly for all of five minutes before she left for her all-nighter at The Basement. Together, we walked to the house and took a seat inside on the couch.

"What is all this fuss about?" I was literally sobbing and trying to catch my breath and swallow all at the same time. I grabbed the box of tissues on the end table and blew my nose and wiped my face. I looked at my mom and saw her differently. I saw a hurt woman who was betrayed and drank away her sorrows. I saw a woman who needed love, and I began to cry even louder. She moved closer to me and wrapped her bony little arms around my body. I cried on her chest while she told me it would all be alright.

When I finally got myself together and had calmed down enough to speak, I got a glass of water and drank the whole thing. I felt a headache coming on and grabbed two Tylenol to numb the pain. My mother was sitting there looking at the TV and smoking her life away. I walked over to where she was sitting and took a seat on the floor.

"Mom, I have to ask you something." She looked at me and waited, "Did Daddy cheat on you?" Her face went blank. She stood up, moving me out of the way, and walked into the kitchen, where she began to pour herself a bourbon on the rocks. "Mom, please tell me the truth. Nivea said I have..."

She cut me off, "NIVEA? How the hell did Nivea come to know this?" I couldn't speak for a second because she didn't deny it. I watched her drink one cup and then pour another and down it like it was water. My mind was racing, and I felt like the walls were closing in on me.

"Mom, what do you mean how did she know this? I accused her of lying! She's lying, right? Daddy would never sleep with nigger, right? Please tell me she's lying." She took a deep breath and sighed a loud, long burst of air from her chest.

"Kayla, your daddy was no saint! He was working up at that bank, and he traveled for work and met all kinds of people. Thought he was a big shot and could do what he wanted because he was bringing home the money. I was taking care of you, kids. Your daddy made mistakes, and that bitch was one of them. Don't go running around town investigating no shit. Keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

I froze in my tracks and watched her grab the whole bottle and walk out the side door. I couldn't process what my ears just heard. My dad? My perfect dad? My hero? He slept with a black woman. I fell to my knees and began crying all over again. This couldn't be true. How could I have not known this my whole life? How could I have been so blind? How did I not know who my father really was? I was sick to my stomach. I was in disbelief. I lay there curled up in a ball, sobbing by myself. Nivea was right. Nivea knew, and I didn't.

****

I woke up on my living room floor and thought maybe it was all a bad dream. I was hoping I was right. I checked my phone to see I missed several calls and text messages. My uncle Rodney had called me three times, and Nivea called me about seven times. I had texts from Niv, Uncle Rodney, and an unknown number. It was 12:22 am, and I was wondering if anyone would be awake right now. I went to get up and felt my stomach turning in knots. As I am running to the bathroom, I start vomiting everywhere. Shit! Sitting by this porcelain throne makes me wonder how many nights my mom spent here. I just want this all to be untrue.

I text Nivea, "Hey, you up?"

Ping! "Yes, are you okay? I am sorry. Let's talk, please."

I am not sure I can drive, so I text her back to come over. Within minutes, Nivea is banging on my front door. I managed to get up and open it for her. Nivea came in like a cannonball, hugging me and saying how sorry she was for dropping this bomb of information on me. I couldn't cry anymore; I had cried so much earlier I had nothing left. We sat down on my front porch, and I explained to her that I was sorry for freaking out on her. I was out of line to act as if it was her fault my dad was a cheater. I told her that my mom confirmed it, and I was still trying to digest the fact that I had a black sister. I couldn't even fix my mouth to say those words. It was awful. It was disgusting. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to throw up again. I crossed my legs and sat back in the huge fluffy chair in the corner with Niv sitting across from me in a similar chair. It was dark, and I could hear bugs fluttering about and dying on the lights hung around neighbors' homes.

Niv broke the silence, "Kayla, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but honestly, I think you should reach out to Tiffany. I found her on Facebook. She's a highly successful woman. She's older than you by a few years, so your mom and dad were newly married and had no kids at the time. She grew up in Chicago and probably never saw or met your dad. Maybe she deserves to know about him or her siblings. She is innocent in all this. It's not like she asked to be born. I really think you should give her a chance."

I couldn't believe my best friend was trying to get me to be friends with my dead father's love child. The pain and anguish I feel right now is unbearable. I have no desire to meet her.

"Niv, I don't think you understand. I don't want anything to do with her. Even if she was innocent in it, she's a nigger!"

Nivea stood up and walked over to me, looking down at my crossed legs, "You know what, Kayla? I hate that word, and I have always hated that your family is racist. What did black people ever do to you? Why do you hate them so much? I hope one day you realize all that hate you have for her is also hate for your precious father because she has his blood, and clearly, he liked her momma!" She walked off and slammed my door so hard I heard a picture fall off the wall. I took a deep breath and rubbed my face as hard as I could with my sweaty hands. I am going to have to figure this out, but right now, I needed to get something in my stomach. I grabbed my keys and my purse and left for Whataburger.