True To The Game III

Mommie Dearest

Quadir strolled through the back door of his home, nearly scaring his mother to death.

“Quadir!” She rushed to him and embraced him tightly. “What are you doing here? You know you shouldn’t be here! If someone sees you…”

“It’s okay, Mama.” Quadir nodded. “I just wanted to drop by and see you.”

“Quadir, if you needed to see me, you could have just left the code, and I would have met you at the meeting place.”

“I know. I just wanted to see you right now. I didn’t feel like waiting.”

Mrs. Richards exhaled. “Qua, boy, what’s the matter?”

Quadir shook his head.

“This better not be about that damn money.”

“Not really.”

“Not really?” She placed her hands on her hips. “What does that mean?”

“It’s about Gena.”

Mrs. Richards turned back to her dirty dishes. “What about Gena?”

“She woke up.”

Mrs. Richards froze. “And?”

“She knows it was me who rescued her.”

She turned toward her son. “She knows you’re alive?”

Quadir nodded.

“And so, what’s next?”

Quadir shrugged. “That’s the problem. I can’t answer that question.”

“Well, you know I can’t answer it for you. So if it’s those kinds of answers you’re looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place. There’s a mirror behind you. Turn around, and ask away, because that’s the only person who can give you the answers you’re looking for.”

Quadir smiled. She was as blunt as always. And just as truthful. But like all of her truths, this one was also filled with many other truths. He had come here to find an answer, and he knew that she had the key to unlock the code that was keeping him from finding peace.

“Amelia says hi,” Quadir said.

“Nice girl.” Mrs. Richards faced her son. “I really like her. Nice, polite, honest, straightforward, smart. And a doctor, making her own money. What’s not to like?” She turned back to her dishes and continued washing them.

Quadir nodded. “She does have everything going for her.”

“Nice girl.”

“You said that already.”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

“Hmm.”

“Another hmm.”

“Are you two getting serious?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Are you sure you don’t know?” Viola asked with a knowing smile.

“A lot of loose ends to wrap up, I guess. I want to make sure one door is closed before I open up a new one.”

“Wise to always do.”

Quadir seated himself at the table and lowered his head to his arms.

“Sometimes doors are hard to close, son,” she told him. “Sometimes, there’s so much behind those doors that our heart won’t let us close them.”

“What if it has to be closed?”

“It’s hard to say good-bye to the ones we love.”

Quadir remained silent.

“You do love her, don’t you?”

Quadir lifted his head and turned toward her.

“I mean, it takes a lot for someone, especially my son, to hang up his playboy hat, and actually settle down. She must have really been something special for you to have done that. I used to wonder what was so special about Gena that could make you do that.”

Quadir remained silent.

“Do you remember, son?”

“Remember what?”

“What was so special about her that made you want to settle down and be with her?”

Quadir lowered his head. His mother had just sucker-punched him in his heart. He did remember. He remembered her smile, her innocence, that killer body. She was his G, and he was her Qua. She was from the projects. He was trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. He was balling, trying to shine so that they could have things that they never dreamed of having. He remembered the day he promised himself that he would always take care of her. He remembered when they went to the Bahamas and stayed over at the Valiant Hotel. He remembered the first time they made love on the beach. It was as if the drink was named just for them. He remembered everything about her. Why did she have to fuck with Jerrell. Why? Things would be so much easier if she hadn’t fucked with him.

“Ah, so you do remember,” Viola said. His silence and daydreaming had answered her question.

“She met somebody else.”

Mrs. Richards nodded. “She’s young, the man she loved was murdered, and in her mind you were never coming back. I’m sure enough time passed by. I’m sure she mourned her loss and then moved on. Come on, what do you expect? You were dead, and you were never coming back.” She turned to him. “I remember being met by those doctors in the hospital and being told that you were dead. I broke down right there and fell into that doctor’s arms. The first thing I thought was, my poor baby. And then I thought about how I was never going to see you alive again, how I was never going to get to see that smile of yours, how I was never going to get to hold any grandchildren from you. My Quadir was dead, and he was never coming back. I was preparing for a funeral in my head, and preparing for a life without my baby. Right up until Amelia called and had me meet her in that damn parking garage across from the hospital. She snuck me into the intensive care unit late that night and allowed me to peek into your room. I got down on my knees and prayed so hard to God that night, thanking Him for giving me my baby back, that I couldn’t walk for two days. I had the privilege of knowing that you were alive. I had the ability to sneak in and see you whenever I wanted. She didn’t have those things. Your death to her was as sure as the sun sets in the evening time. She had to move on; she had to live.”

“You don’t understand, she was fucking with Jerrell, Mom. And he’s the one who tried to kill me.”

Viola finished her last dish and turned to her son. “It hurts like hell, and you feel betrayed by that. Quadir, I put that girl on the streets, so that I could hide the fact you were alive, and look for that damn money. Put her on the streets! That was the worst thing I have ever done in my entire life. She had nothing, and nowhere to go when I did that. We can’t blame her for moving forward with life. She’s strong, Quadir. She wasn’t just going to curl up in a ball and die. I raised you to be a man. To stand up and be a man. No one is at fault here. You got shot, we had to protect you to keep you alive, she thought that you were dead, and life happened. It’s life’s fault. So, now you have a choice. You can go on and always wonder what if, or you can put those questions to rest.”

“How?”

“Do you love her?”

Quadir went silent.

“Do you still love her?” Viola asked more forcefully.

“I love her.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“And Amelia?”

“What about her?”

“I love her too.”

“You love her for everything that she did for you? Or are you in love with her?”

Quadir shook his head. “That’s just it; I don’t know. She means everything to me. She’s everything that I’ve never had in a woman. She’s independent, she’s smart, she’s fun to be around, she’s strong. She puts my ass in check when I need it. I’ve never met anybody like her.”

“Well, that’s because she’s independent and not no project chickenhead, like you’re used to.”

Quadir laughed. “Mom!”

“You dating these hoochies looking for some tennis shoes and something to eat, and maybe get an outfit and their hair and nails done. Let’s keep it real.” She kissed Quadir on top of his head. “And for the first time in my baby’s life, he’s met a real black woman. A strong sister, who tells him to keep his money in his pocket; she’s got this. She doesn’t need anything from you, Quadir. She just wants your love.”

“And I want to give it to her. She deserves it.”

“Don’t give it to her because you think you owe it to her, baby. One thing about women like Amelia, they always land on their feet. No matter what decision you make, even if your decision is to make none at all, she’s going to be all right.”

Quadir exhaled. “You got a quarter?”

“A quarter? What for?”

“Hell, for the coin toss. I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do.”

Viola threw her head back in laughter. Quadir joined in.

“Follow your heart, Quadir.”

“My heart is pulling me in two different directions.”

She shook solemnly. “No it’s not. It’s pulling you in one direction, but your pride and sense of duty are pulling you in another. You don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe Amelia anything for saving your life. She’s a doctor; it’s her job. You don’t owe those niggas on the street no explanation. You don’t owe Gena and who cares what she did in the midst of your absence? Listen, son, you make your decisions in life based on what will make you happy. You were given a second chance to live. Take it. Don’t let nothing stop you from living your life to the fullest and being happy.”

Quadir nodded. “I thought you liked Amelia better.”

“I do. What mother wouldn’t want their child to marry a doctor? But hell, I’m from the hood so I’ll always root for the underdog. Listen, it’s not that I don’t like Gena or that I like Amelia better; you’re the one that gots to lay up with the broad. Shoot, not me. I just want you to make whatever decision will make you happy. I’m your mother; I love you-that’s what mothers do.”