Changing Stiles Read online

  Vince slaps his leg. “Damn. D is a nice girl, though,” he snickers.

  My mom flags her hand at Mariah as she tries to collect the baby. “Let me hold her now. You been holding her the last nine months.” No one states the obvious fact that it was inside her body. “Now, Sister Sadie from Mt. Vernon has a beautiful daughter. Think she said she's a anesthesiologist ova dere at University of Penn.”

  In the background, behind my momma, Vince and Mariah are both shaking their heads no. “Stop that,” she says to them. “She is such a lovely girl,” she adds.

  Coughing because she got caught, Mariah picks up the cordless house phone. “Just in time,” she said into the phone. “Cart is here and guess who he saw… Hold on I’ma put it on speaker.”

  I hear Autumn’s laughter on the other end. My sister did always like Alieas and was furious when I cut her off. In the aftermath of our breakup, Autumn tried to be a voice for her but ultimately, I demanded her loyalty . Told her that she had to pick a side. I was under the impression that had been it.

  Or so I had thought. “When was the last time you saw her?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.

  “Book signing for her last book. She asked about you but said not to mention it to you. I kind of got the feeling that she still loves you.”

  The eye-rolling and frown on mom’s face is hilarious, but I ignore her.

  Then Riah speaks up. “Maybe it wasn't the right time. She was really young, and if it wasn’t for what happened between you, both your lives could’ve been different.”

  I am a firm believer in God’s timing. It’s perfection, even when we doubt the fallout. “She was young and some issues.”

  “Take me and your brother. He is such an a-hole, but I loved him. It took us like six years to get it right.”

  I glance over at Vince, and he's just waiting so he can jump in on her story.

  “I didn’t know if we were ever going to get down the aisle without tripping over this girl and that girl, so I let go. I let go, went on with my life, and he came back around, ready. He needed time to grow into who he is today so he could be the man that me and Skye needed him to be.” Riah went over and sat across his lap. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed his head.

  “She was messing with some lawyer dude. I felt it getting serious, and there was no way some otha man was gonna end up with my woman,” Vince recalls, kissing her full on the lips.

  “Ain’t Mommy in the room?” Autumn’s voice came through the speakerphone. Her hearing was on point.

  “Ain’t nothing that I haven’t seen or done,” my mom laughs.

  “Eww. Get your mom. I gotta go, though. Miles is ready for...”

  I can imagine her making faces and pumping the air as she laughs and hangs up. I’m glad she didn’t finish her sentence. She and her husband were trying to conceive a baby of their own, and sex is the only thing on her mind. Now, it’s stuck in mine.

  As a matter of fact, my mind time travels back to a time when me and Lieas was fucking every chance we got. Any and everywhere. I haven’t had that spontaneity of anything goes… well, almost anything goes since her.

  My mom teased that she has me open. Yup. Open WIDE and soon, Alieas will be too.

  Twenty-Five

  Alieas

  I contemplate seeing my father for the first time in a really long time. And I can’t even go in. Physically, there feels like a magnetic force is keeping me glued to my seat. But I know that it is more mental than anything, I suspect.

  “Just go in. He’s waiting for you,” Gray urges.

  I listen to his voice as I eye the South Philly brownstone. “Maybe, I’ll just call him instead,” I offer.

  “Alieas, get out of the car and go in and see Dad.”

  They’d made up years ago. But their relationship has always been a contentious one. Gray is now so far from the wild man of the streets he’d been ten years ago. It still surprises the fuck out of me that my brother is a law-abiding, taxpaying, hardworking citizen.

  Well, I guess being almost forty, having a wife and an ever-growing family has something to do with it. That and Allah commanding that he stay on the straight path and that he treat his parents and family well.

  “Don’t call him. Go inside, baby girl. I’m not sure what Mommy or Ty has told you, but it’s not good, Lieas,” he says solemnly.

  Silence ensues. A vision of the huge floating clock comes to mind, seconds of life always ticking away. Precious time. How much did we have left?

  What would I say? That my mom got me in the divorce even though I was an adult woman capable of making my own decisions? But I had made my own decision to cut him from my life. Maybe that was too drastic, given the circumstances. But here I am, afraid for the first time that I was wrong. That I’d wasted time. Years of missing hugs, kisses, stern looks, advice, love. That once I reach him, the ground is going to be ripped from beneath my feet and there will be no gravity to keep me from falling and he won’t be there to catch me.

  “How bad is it?” I ask. No one had prepared me for this.

  “He refuses to have any treatment.”

  “What it is? Cancer?”

  “Nawl. Diabetes, congestive heart failure, possible renal failure, and some other stuff, but he won’t go on dialysis. He doesn’t want to stop working, but he can’t work like this anyway.”

  I let go of the breath I was holding. Diabetes? They had me thinking this negro was about to kick the bucket. “Okay, I’ll call you after I’m done.”

  “A’rd, sis.”

  With a tap to my screen, I disconnect the call and I grab my bag and collect my courage before exiting my vehicle. Taking a deep breath, I run over to his house. I knock nervously, waiting to set my eyes on his handsome face to put to rest the building anxiety.

  “Good evening,” a pretty woman in purple scrubs answers the door. I place her in her forties. A nurse? Maybe a home health aide? Knowing my father, it could be his girlfriend or something.

  “I’m Alieas. Is my father home?”

  She smiles. At the mention of my name, her face brightens. This must be the girlfriend.

  “He’s gonna be very happy to see you. Happy Belated Birthday,” she says, pulling me into the foyer. “I’m Shelia,” she introduces herself. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you,” she continues.

  Definitely the girlfriend.

  I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it, so I simply nod. “Thank you very much, Shelia,” I respond respectfully as she takes my coat.

  She takes my hands in her so quickly that I don’t even have time to react. I just stand, looking down at her. I see the sparkle of tears in her eyes. “Darien really misses you, and you have no idea what this means to him.”

  I remain quiet but I nod.

  “I’ll show you to the den. Your brother is here with him.”

  Ummm. Gray is here and ain’t even say shit. Coaching me to come in. I follow her through the lower level of the house until we reach the den.

  Tyree, not Gray, is standing beside my father, who is kneeling in a high back chair and leaning over the top of it. “Look who’s here,” Shelia announces, causing Tyree to look up.

  My father turns his head. His eyes brighten when he focuses on my face. The smile widens and then he winces in pain as he attempts to get off the chair and turn around.

  “Be careful,” Tyree hisses as he steps back to assist him. When he turns around, I can see that his stomach is extended. “Hey, Lieas,” Tyree steps over and kisses my cheek.

  “Daddy,” I whisper placing my hand over my mouth to stifle my cry.

  “Moo. My Moo,” he wheezes out in a struggled breath. “Come over here and let me look at you.”

  The man before me is not the man I remember. He is but a mere shadow of the tall, dashing, charismatic man who hand-charmed and won my mother’s heart. In sickness, he was small and feeble, a former shell of himself. His back and once broad shoulders were hunched in defeat as if h
e’d surrendered his life force to whatever was staking its claim. “How? Gray said you had diabetes.”

  My father gathers enough strength to take hold of me, and I break as his arms surround me. The raging waters break the dam and I am a mess of tears. His weak arms grasp me tighter in a final show of strength. “I’m sorry, Moo. I’m sorry that I lost you,” he chokes out.

  I stand there, holding him, realizing that I never should have let go. “I’m here now, Dad.”

  “I’m so happy. Your mom told me you were going to come. Happy Birthday, baby.” He kisses my forehead.

  I need a moment to get myself together and back out of the room. Tyree follows me. Angrily, I push at his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t y’all tell me?” I ask. I wipe my face and push him again.

  “He asked me not to. He’s wanted to see you for a while now. I did tell you that.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this?!” I demand again.

  Tyree wraps his arms around me and holds me while I rock out my anger, frustration, and despair.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I ask, breaking from his embrace.

  Tyree drags his hands over his head and then leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “His body isn’t naturally getting rid of the waste or fluids. From what Ms. Shelia saying, he’s looking at renal failure. He won’t go to the hospital. We’ve all tried to talk him into it. He needs a kidney. I was gonna get tested to see if I was a match, but he refuses.”

  Men are so damn hardheaded. And for some reason, black men are the worse when it comes to regular doctor visits and taking care of themselves.

  He can barely move. How did they allow him to get like this? My mind starts racing. Mentally, I’m all over Google and MSN looking shit up. “I’m not leaving until he agrees to go,” I tell him. “And Ms. Shelia; is she his girlfriend? His caretaker?”

  “Both.”

  “Moo. Alieas?” I hear my father’s voice call out from the den.

  I shake my head in disgust as I make my way back into the den. “Hey, Dad. You gotta go to the hospital,” I tell him point blank.

  He’s sitting in the same chair, this time facing front and on his bottom. “Come sit with me.”

  I comply and take a seat on the couch next to his chair. “My daughter. I told you she was beautiful, didn’t I, Shelia?”

  “Daddy, you have to go to the hospital. This isn’t right.”

  “Tired of being sick, baby.”

  Denial sets in quickly; shaking my head is my way of denouncing his thoughts. “You’re only sick because you aren’t getting treated. What is your doctor saying?”

  “That I should go on dialysis. That I shouldn’t put my loved ones through this. Until, I got sick, I didn’t have any loved ones,” he coughs.

  The pain ripples on his face. “Well, you do have loved ones. Ms. Shelia, Gray and Tyree, and me.”

  “Baby, a man reaches a point in his life where he wishes that he’d done things differently. If I’d been different, this would’ve ended differently. I fucked up on so many fronts,” he shakes his head, quickly glancing at Ty and adding, “I prayed that I lived long enough to make them right. Whatever I was to your mama, I loved you. I only wanted the best for you.”

  Tears flowed freely; the feeling I get is that he's resigned to his fate. Liked, he can tell he’s dying. And the more troubling issue is that he seems patiently ready for death.

  Perhaps, he was ready for death but what if death wasn’t ready for him? What if I wasn’t ready to let him go in such a permanent, forever type of way? What if God wasn’t through with him.

  Ready? No, not when I wanted to make amends. Ready to make up for lost time.

  A kidney. He needs a kidney.

  I have one. Well, we all have two... He can have one.

  Just like Mama said; everyone deserves a second chance.

  And for the third time in three days, I prayed that God was feeling generous enough to hand out more second chances.

  Twenty-Six

  Sunday

  Alieas

  So, miracles do happen. My father was admitted to the Jefferson University Hospital and received an emergency dialysis treatment this morning. The triage nurse had looked at us with disgust as she questioned the exact words I’d asked: “How’d you let him get this way?”

  I gave Tyree a weary look. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Doctors rushing in, checking this level and that level. They’d given him some Bumex to help release the fluids, and then they’d given him the dialysis treatment.

  I cried and cried. I can’t remember the last time I cried so much. I haven’t lost anyone since my grandmom on my father’s side, and she had died when I was like ten. All I remember is the fear of seeing her in her casket. I look down at my wrist watch, and it read fifteen minutes after noon.

  Exhausted, I flop down onto my hotel bed. All I can think is that the bed is so comfy as I melt into the mattress. I replay the last eighteen hours and find myself grateful to have been strong enough to endure them.

  I need to have tests run to confirm if I am a kidney match. Tyree and Gray are also going to get tested to see if they are compatible, just in case.

  I can't think straight and probably won’t until I get some sleep. I wish I was one of those people who could turn their brains off and rest. Even with my impulsiveness, I still overanalyze and have what I like to call “afterward anxiety”. I close my eyes and just hope that everything is alright.

  ******

  Three hours of sleep would have to do because I’m up and that’s all I'm functioning on. I was able to stop past my mom’s and talk to her about my dad and discuss the testing I would have to go through. The process can take several months. You have to do psychological testing along with multiple blood tests, genetic markers, speak to social workers, and whatever else it takes.

  “Whatever else” it takes, I’m ready for it. My mom told me to slow down and that I had been running on all cylinders since I arrived home. She sent me packing back to my hotel to get some rest.

  I usually play my playlist from iTunes but occasionally, I listen to top forty radio to find a couple of new tunes. I’m pleasantly surprised at the joy I get from rapping this.

  It’s a guarantee… They say I think I’m the shit— well apparently.

  I laugh at the fact that this is playing on the damn radio. I haven’t heard it in years. But even with all my female empowerment mottos, I still fall short. And am subject to be ratchet and hood and freaky ass shit all at once.

  I get head in the strangest places…

  …taste it savory it...,

  vanilla ice cream…

  oooh, my favorite...”

  The phone rings and I answer automatically while Lil Wayne wraps up his verse on Suck it or Not. “Hello?” I hum with ‘Lil Wayne.

  “So, you’re not into backtracking brothas, huh?” a mocking tone flows through the cellular waves, causing me to laugh. And before I could answer, he adds, “What are you listening to?”

  Perversely amused, I turn it up so he can hear it and rap along with it.

  A nigga wanna know, baby girl, you gonna suck it or not?

  I can't believe this shit is on the radio. “You don't allow Mira to listen to this type of music, do you?” I was wilding out by the age of fourteen. My favorite “outrageous” song back then was Akinyele’s Put It In Your Mouth.

  “No, and you ask me that even as you hum the tunes. Interesting. Were you gonna call me or not?”

  “I was.” With everything going on with my father, I haven’t even had an opportunity to think of anything else.

  Carter clears his throat. “I’m going to be forward. If you’re not interested, you can let me know. I won’t hold it against you.”

  “It’s not that. I saw my father yesterday, and I wasn’t aware that he was seriously ill. I was tied up at the hospital all night, and I only got three hours of sleep.”

  I hear him sigh. “I knew he was sick. Is ever
ything alright with him?”

  “Right this moment? Yes. It may not stay that way.”

  “Why didn’t you know your father was sick?”

  “We haven't been close since that shit that went down in the Bahamas.”

  “Damn. That’s fucked up. That was more than a decade ago, though.” His voice sounded doubtful.

  I shrug. “What can I say? I hold grudges. That’s something we can both understand,” I flip out.

  He chuckles. “Grudges? That’s what you call it? Where are you now?”

  “Driving.”

  “Driving where? We need to talk. Today.” Carter was so good at giving orders that he didn’t question anyone’s abilities to follow them.

  “I was on my way back to my hotel. You want to grab dinner to have this talk?”

  “I’m wrapping a project up in Ardmore. I can meet you at your hotel’s restaurant in like forty-five minutes if that’s good for you?”

  “I don’t think you’re giving me a choice,” I muse.

  “It’s simple. Are you interested or not?”

  Simple. Cut. And dry. It seems. “We can talk. I'm staying at the Hilton behind Target. I'll see you in forty-five.”

  I check my watch when I hang up with him. There’s just enough time to get primed and pampered. Or maybe I should just stay low key…

  I text Nesha and Tiff. Meeting Carter in my hotel for dinner. He wants to talk.

  Inside the restaurant, right? Nesha responds quickly.

  I roll my eyes and text back. Yes! Inside the restaurant. I wasn’t saying my room.

  Well, I say go for it, Tiff texts back.