Joyful Storm (Urban)

Meet the Parents

Storm

            After talking it over with Joyful this morning, we decided that I would explain our situation to Reagan once I get back to Chicago. I don’t want Reagan to rush Joyful into the whole mommy thing. I want her to take on the role when she feels comfortable with it.

            Speaking of being comfortable, I’m uncomfortable with the thought of meeting Joy’s parents tonight. I’ve been keeping it in these past couple of days but, the privileged lifestyle that Joy leads is kind of intimidating. I’m not entirely sure that I can keep up with the lifestyle. It’s simple; I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I struggle each and every day to provide for Reagan and myself. Struggling is not something that I wanna do but it’s what I’m gonna do until the doors open up for me. I just hope Joy and her parents can understand.

            Pulling up to the Banks household, I saw Joy’s white 2015 M6 convertible BMW in the driveway. That car alone cost over $130,000.  I also saw Noriah’s 2015 Dodge Challenger parked in front. He gave me the low on Reagan and Faith’s parents so, I was semi-prepared.

            I exited my rental car and walked up to the mini-mansion. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. I was relieved that my baby opened the door.

“Hey, boo!” Joyful greeted me, with a smile.

“Wassup, ma.” I greeted, pulling her into a long hug. It had only been a couple of hours but I missed Joy whenever she wasn’t around. She pulled back and placed a kiss right on my lips.

“Just be yourself.” She told me, before taking my hand and leading me inside.

“Hey Storm.” Faith greeted with a hug when we reached the living room where everybody was sitting.

“Wassup, Storm?” Noriah greeted as he dapped me up from where he was sitting.

After introducing me to her grandparents, aunts and cousins she finally led me away to meet her mother in the kitchen.

“Mother, this is my boyfriend, Storm. Storm, this is my mother Vanessa.” She introduced us.

“Well does he have a last name?” she said, raising her eyebrow at me.

“It’s Jackson ma’am. Storm Jackson. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Banks.” I said in response. I could tell already that this woman didn’t like me….well let’s just say approve of me.

“Hmph…Your father is in his office. Tell him that dinner is ready to be served.” She said to Joy without acknowledging me in the slightest manner.

Joy stared at her in disbelief for a second and then sighed, leading the way to her father’s office. Before she knocked on the door, I kissed her on the forehead. It was an attempt to assure her that everything was going to be fine. I halfway believed my own thoughts.

“Come in!” her dad yelled, through the door once she knocked.

“Hey baby girl.” He greeted Joy with a smile when he looked up from the paperwork on his desk.

“Hey daddy.” She said, cheesing. She reminded me of Reagan. She was a daddy’s girl for sure.

“Daddy, this is my boyfriend Storm Jackson. Storm, this is my father Karl.” She introduced us, placing emphasis on my last name.

“Hello, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s an honor to be in a relationship with your daughter.” I expressed to him, putting my hand out for a handshake. He didn’t acknowledge my hand. I quickly snatched it back and grabbed Joy’s hand. This whole situation was causing my anger to rise.

“Is your mother finished with dinner?” he asked dryly.

“Yes. She told me to come and get you.” Joyful informed him.

When we exited his office Joy turned and looked up at me with sorrow in her eyes.

“Its ok, babe. They’ll love me by the end of the night.” I said before pulling her into a long kiss.

“Uhhmmmmmm!” her dad cleared his throat, interrupting our kiss. He threw the meanest mug my way. What did I do to this man?

When we entered into the dining room, everyone was seated around the grand dining table. Karl and Vanessa sat at each head of the table. Joyful and I took our seats right beside Faith and Noriah. After the blessing of the food, platters were passed around and within minutes everybody was served and eating. The dinner was going fine until Joyful’s father spoke up.

“So Mr. Jackson, how old are you?” her father questioned me.

“I’ll be 25 in two weeks, sir.” I replied.

“Where are you from?” her mother asked.

“I’m from the Southside of Chicago.” I informed her.

“Oh the ghetto.” Vanessa commented, making Joy choke on her water and Faith dropped her fork against her plate.  I patted Joys back and made sure she was ok.

“It’s not the safest place but I’m still alive at 25. That speaks for itself.” I said confidently.

“Are your parents around?” he father asked me next.

“I currently live with my father. My mom passed away five years ago.” I replied.

“So you don’t have your own home? Are you employed?” he continued.

“I don’t have my own home sir. I’m in between jobs at the moment.” I explained.

“Are you educated?” he asked.

“I’m working on it. I’m set to graduate in the fall.” I said.

“Do you have any children?” her mother asked.

“Yes ma’am. I have a daughter that-..” I started before Karl cut me off.

“A daughter?! Oh no. What did you think? Did you think you was going to walk in here and make my daughter the mother of your bastard child?! I don’t think so! I refuse to let some, ghetto, low-life Negro corrupt my daughter!!! I won’t have it!!” he yelled.

“Daddy!!!” Joyful yelled, on the verge of tears.

“Don’t daddy me Joyful! You know that he’s no good for you. He just isn’t good enough for this family. Why couldn’t you just find an upstanding guy like your sister?!” he continued yelling.

“With all due respect sir, I have no intentions on making a mother out your daughter. I’d also appreciate it if you wouldn’t disrespect my daughter. And for you to be so educated, I would expect you to know that ghetto refers to a place, not a person. To be honest “ghetto” is a state of mind. I would like for you to know that I treat your daughter with the utmost of respect. The same way in which I would want someone to respect my daughter. I respect your opinion of me, everyone is entitled to their own. You all have a good night. I appreciated the meal, Mrs. Banks.” I stated confidently before standing up from my seated position.

“Don’t cry, Joyful.” I said, wiping away her tears and kissing her on the lips.

I walked out of that house and didn’t look back. I refused to be where I wasn’t wanted. Maybe Reagan would see her daddy sooner than she thought.

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