Never Worked

Chapter 3

October 16, 2000

"He said he was gonna come see her this year, says that every year, I should of known better. He hasn't seen the kids in three years." My mom said sighing.

I was coming into the middle of the conversation hiding just beyond the corner in the hallway while mom talked to my grandmother. My mom was standing at the kitchen counter talking to my grandmother on the other side of the counter who was holding a big white box. Today is my birthday. I'm officially eight today, and judging by mom's tone, something was wrong.

"Well what are you going to do? She's going to be expecting him." My grandmother replied. I wanted to be nosey just a little while longer, you tended to get more out of adults when they thought none of us kids could hear them.

"I guess I'm just going to have to tell her, she'll be so disappointed." she sighed. "He should be here."

"Well there is a lot of things he should be doing. I can't believe him. What was his excuse this time?" my grandmother asked with an attitude. Yep, something was wrong.

"I don't know, something about the car wasn't acting right and he didn't think it would make the trip. Like he didn't know her birthday was coming and he couldn't have gotten it fixed. Please, her birthday's the same time every year." So, the problem was about me? Hmm what was wrong and who wasn't coming. It couldn't be Daddy, he had sworn he was going to be here, and even though he's only been to one of my birthdays that I could remember, I believed him. I decided I had hidden in the shadows enough. I walked out into the kitchen.

"Hey! Here's the birthday girl!" my mom said sounding as if she hadn't just been upset a few moments ago. "How's my little Pookey doing?" she asked hugging me. I turned to my grandmother "Hey chick-a-dee!" she said grabbing my hand affectionately. My family's nick names for me were never ending I swear.

"Hey Grandma, did you bring the cake?!" I asked excitedly looking at the box she was holding.

"Oh, so I don't get a hello just because I don't have cake in my hand?" my mom asked with mock aggression, hands on her hips. Didn't she know cake was above all, especially chocolate cake! She can't be serious. I just looked at her with a blank stare, waiting for her to realize this.

"Oh, ok, I guess I can take your gifts back then?" she said folding her arms with even more indignation. She looked off to her left. Ok, now she wasn't playing fair, she KNOWS my love for chocolate is serious.

I gasped "Mommy no!" I said shaking my head. She wouldn't really take my presents back, would she?

"Well then I betta get some love... and a kiss." She said pointing to her cheek. I breathed a sigh of relief. "OK." I rushed her legs and gave her a big hug and a kiss right where she had pointed. She laughed and fixed the pink plastic barrettes on my head. "That's better!" She said with a giant smile, then something in her expression changed. "Des, I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Your daddy called me and said his car broke down, baby. He won't be able to make it." She seemed hesitant, as if she was waiting for me to break down and cry right here.

"But mommy, he said he was coming. He promised." I said, sufficiently disappointed. I frowned, my shoulders sank, and I looked down at my pink jelly sandals. He broke a promise again, do all daddies do this? My friends at school said daddies always come through when they promise. Maybe it's just me. Why doesn't he ever want to come see me on my birthday?

"I know, pookey. I'm sure he really wanted to be here, he told me to tell you he loved you and 'happy birthday'." She said with a watery saddened smile. Her eyes got real shiny and reminded me of marbles. She hugged me really hard and then separated to look me in the eye. "Don't you worry baby, we're still gonna have a great birthday party, ok? Your cousins and aunties are gonna meet us at Chuckie Cheese. Let's get ready to go big girl."

My "cousins" were really the kids of her best girlfriends, which were of course my "aunties". My mother only had two brothers. Because of our mothers, my "cousins" and I spent our childhoods together and they were essentially my family. Friends were never easily gained for me. I didn't seem to have a lot in common with kids my own age. At least not the girls. Boys were always funny to hang around with. I loved to watch them play the dozens, it was hilarious as long as they weren't talking about me.

I didn't "like" like any of the boys in my grade though. Oh my gosh! If I liked a boy in my class and they found out, they'd be horrified. I was not pretty. Nobody ever called me pretty and I always thought I looked funny. Awkward afro puffs and thick glasses I just got this year. Nope, I was better off just being in the background watching them throw "Yo' mama" jokes at each other. I was trying to stop liking Mitchell for the same reason. He'd feel really awkward if he found out, but not liking him wasn't as easy as it sounded.

I solemnly nodded and went to my room to finish getting ready. As I was walking out of the kitchen I heard my mom snap in a whisper I'm sure I wasn't supposed to hear, "I swear, imma' kill that negro the next time I see him! It's bad enough he's not paying child support. He's hurting my baby girl now and I can't cover for him forever."

I didn't know who or what the "negro" was, but I was pretty sure it wasn't a comment meant for me so I just disregarded it. I was never allowed to get involved in "grown folks' business" anyway.

I had fun. I laughed 'til I cried and ate WAY too much cake that day. I wasn't going to let daddy's broken promise get in the way of my fun. Today was my day. So I ate pizza, watched the giant creepy smiling animals dance off beat, and did my own little groove to the music that was playing every once in a while. You couldn't tell me I wasn't the next Janet Jackson. DeAndre was even nice to me today.

Maybe my daddy didn't do what he promised but I'm sure he would have been here if his car had worked. I know he loves me, he doesn't have to show up. This is probably just normal anyways. An hour drive is a lot to do just for me. I guess I'll just have to get used to it. Maybe he'll come next year. It's only been a few years since I last saw him, and at least he called me this year.