Distractions (D. SWING)

43

DeGrate

Nine years ago.

I was twenty-three and I had a pixie-cut. I wore bowler brims every single day. I had just really began to receive any kind of curve that I would get, I'm a late bloomer for everything. I lived in Chicago, Illinois and my boyfriend lived in Minneapolis, Minnesota... I eventually moved to Chanhassen. I thought it was cool because Prince lived up the street, Janet was only twenty minutes away, everybody was near me. That fall, I went to a medium-sized home in Minneapolis. I've never seen so many Puerto Ricans in my entire life. They were loud, they were rambunctious, and yet, extremely welcoming. On the short end of the stick, in most their eyes, I was a star. The attention didn't feel like I was Omar's girlfriend. The attention felt like I was Omar's amazingly beautiful, rich, and famous girlfriend– I was barely rich, by the way. I was just beginning to make any real money by then.

That was the last time I had to meet my boyfriend's parents for the first time. Anybody after that, I was already acquainted with. I was a completely different person back then and still, the meaning behind the attention will always bother me.

Meeting Ms. Mary is a different kind of nervous on top of meeting the rest of DeVante's family that I haven't met. I've spoken to her on the phone plenty of times. I never once lied about my profession, ever! However, when you fail to mention your stage name, people kind of brush you off as some wannabe. Well, I don't wannabe Lyric when I talk to my boyfriend's mom. Lyric isn't a façade or a fake persona. She is 100% authentic but, she's only 50% of who I am. It's not fair to critique a movie when you're only half way into it, right?

And what about Reverend Don?

He's a reverend! I'd hope that he likes me. There's two ways he may imagine me. One would be as America's Sweetheart, a princess, a sweet little girl. You know, the way a lot of people see me. I don't mind at all but, at the end of the day, I am a grown woman. Or maybe, he'll think I'm a fraud because I'm a grown woman. There's no way someone can be these sweet and that famous, I've heard that before too. This whole thing is a fucking toss up and I don't know what I'm getting.

As we get out of the car, I'm looking dowj at my feet when I hear Jared's voice. "Y'all ready to see some ugly ass pictures of Dalvin?"

Dalvin.

You know what, I'm not even going to go there. I have enough on my mind right now.

My thoughts come to an expected halt by an gentle lifting of my hand. It is swallow by my boyfriend's palm as he brings me to the door with that same pride and joy that was on display when Katrina lost her mind. I chew my gum with an intense speed. I had Adrienne slide me a piece after one of Jared's jokes about me meeting the DeGrates with McDonald's breath being something I may never live down.

DeVante and Jared simply open the door. No knocking, no doorbells, not a single sign of warning. They knew the door would be unlocked. In fact, he and Dalvin always do joke about that. The way his mother is such a firm believer in Jesus Christ that she is assured that the feet of evil will never dare step foot on her porch. I think that kind of faith is beautiful.

"Mama," DeVante warningly calls out. His fingertips graze a bible on the hallway table that holds a phone. "Mom..." It's the second I've seen since arriving. There is one on the table outside by a set of chairs that occupy the patio deck. "You can just sit right there, baby." He softly steers me forward a couch in the living-room. "My mother don't like too many people in her kitchen," he adds. "Trina, stay with Drie and Nel." DeVante nudges DeVante as they disappear from my sight.

Adrienne and I take a seat on the longest couch in the room. She's a lot more relaxed than I. My folded hands sit in my lap, my knees are tied together, as well as my ankles.