Confessions. Sasha Campbell

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СКАЧАТЬ else. That was just the way of life for us.

      Mama struggled to raise my sister, Tamara, and me, and did everything she could working part-time as a cashier at the local drug store. Money was tight, but one thing about my mama, she knew how to make the dollar work. Clothes we got from the Salvation Army, but you’d be amazed at what she could find.

      I had always been good at school and knew I wanted to be a nurse or in some other field helping people. I had big plans to have a better life, and so did Donovan.

      Donovan and I didn’t start dating until junior high. He was a cutie then. Redbone, five ten, with a medium build, and the sexiest smile. Donovan grew up with an alcoholic father who kicked his ass on a regular basis. Whenever his father put him out, Donovan would come over and I would sneak him in through my bedroom window. We’d spend the night holding each other and planning a better life. I didn’t give him my virginity until our sophomore year, and I never regretted it. As soon as we graduated high school, we got married with my family’s blessing. Both of us attended college locally—he on a track scholarship, and me with the help of financial aid. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment that was no better than the projects, but neither of us complained. We had each other, and that’s all that truly mattered. I worked as a manager at Walgreens during the day and an intern at the radio station at night while Donovan opened a barbershop. When I found out I was pregnant, neither of us thought life could get any better. We were so happy. We saved everything we had and bought our first home one month before Mimi, short for Tamika, was born. It was hard juggling work and motherhood, but Donovan didn’t want someone else raising our daughter, so we arranged our schedule to make sure Mimi was always with one of us.

      A sob rose to my throat and tears spilled and dampened my mail. I remember being so tired, so very tired. If only I hadn’t been so willing to please my husband and had insisted on a babysitter for help, maybe she…maybe things would have turned out differently.

      I stared down at the tear-stained letter. According to its contents, it was time for me to say good-bye not to one but to two of the most important people to ever become a part of my life. Part of me still wasn’t ready to let go, even though deep in my heart I knew I had lost them both years ago.

      6

      Trinette

      I arrived at my lovely two-bedroom condo. My maid, Consuela, had come through for her weekly cleaning, and the house smelled fabulous as usual.

      I stepped through the house on my beautiful mahogany wood floor. Last year Leon had a fit when I told him I planned to pull up all the carpet and replace it with wood flooring, but in the end I got my way and haven’t regretted my decision yet. One of Consuela’s responsibilities was cleaning the floor with Murphy Oil Soap once a month, and her hard work rang true.

      I headed to my room and slipped out of my clothes and moved into the shower. It was important for me to smell fresh and look fabulous when Leon arrived. I needed a new house, and it was going to take a little extra loving to convince him. In the end I would get my way. I always did.

      As I lathered my body I thought about my life with Leon. He was an excellent provider and a good man. I didn’t know if I would have been where I was if it wasn’t for him. I don’t give him all the credit, but some just the same.

      Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, but at that point in my life it had to be about me. I’d traveled around being the dutiful and supportive wife for five years while he had been transferred all over the place as a result of one bank merger after another. Every time we had to move, I smiled; said goodbye to my job, my friends, and neighbors; packed up our stuff and prepared for the next location. Five years without objections or questioning, what about me? But at thirty, I decided it was finally my time to shine. It was time for me to finally start living life for me. That’s why I went back to school, and after years of starting and stopping, I finally got a degree in social work and was lucky when I landed a job at the Division of Children and Family Services. For the first time in my life it wasn’t about simply earning a paycheck. I finally had my first job that held real meaning. I was able to finally do for me. I was no longer just Leon Montgomery’s wife. Or the little bucktoothed girl from Englewood Park. I was finally Trinette Meyers-Montgomery. With my job as a caseworker, I had a real purpose, a career with promotion potential. And no one, not even my husband, was going to take that away from me.

      Speaking of promotion, you better believe I had every intention of getting Yolanda’s job when she left. I had busted my ass for two years, staying late, making sure all my case files were in order. I was better than half those lazy heffas who worked in my office. I worked hard to get where I was and I’d be damned before I let anyone take that from me. You see, people are quick to judge, but they have no idea who I am or where I came from.

      I was dogged most of my life. A girl from the projects with a mother who turned tricks to supplement her welfare. Darlene wasn’t even good at what she did, because all she seemed to bring home was more babies. Four brothers one after the other whom I was left to raise while dear old Mommy chased after a pipe dream. Watching her wearing her cheap perfume, coming home smelling like sex, I knew I would never allow a man to use me up the way she had. Only I got it worse. My uncle Sonny victimized me for years. Mama turned a blind eye because Sonny gave her money. He robbed me of my virginity and my dignity at twelve and kept having his way with me until I was fifteen, when I finally tried to bite his dick off. He never touched me again, yet that didn’t stop him from staring, watching and wanting me. I started dating, trying to erase the shame, looking for love in all the wrong places and getting my heart broken one time too many from broke-ass niggas promising the world. Instead, all I got was a sore coochie and a wet ass. By my junior year, I started to believe I was no better than my trick-ass mama. By the time I graduated, I had come to the conclusion men weren’t shit and I wasn’t about to risk my heart to another. No more being used and abused. It was time for me to be on top. Determined to have more than I came from, I went to college and used every mothafucka who came up in my face trying to run game. As a result, I was the baddest female on campus. You wanted some head, it cost you. You wanted to play with my titties, it cost you. You wanted some ass, you better believe I charged the hell out of all them tired brothas. My rationale was that a female is going to give a man some anyway, so why not get paid for your time? My roommate thought I was crazy, but she was singing a different tune when she got her heart broken by one jock after another and had nothing to show for it but the baby growing in her belly. Fuck that! I kept a stash of condoms, because when I walked away, I didn’t want to have to remember his name. Trust and believe, I had brothas falling all over me, but I was only interested in the size of their wallets. No one had a chance of stealing my heart. That is, until I met Leon.

      He was a senior who was going places. He loved me, and I loved everything he did for me. With a degree in finance and a job offer from the largest bank in the states, I knew he could provide me the life I was intended to live. So when he asked me to marry him, I gladly dropped out of school and followed him around. With his six-figure salary, he introduced me to fine dining and vacations in the Caribbean. He bought my first house and a fancy car, and it wasn’t long before I grew accustomed to my new lifestyle and I never once looked back. I came a long way from that little lost ghetto girl. After all that I went through, I deserved everything life had to offer me plus some. I never saw my mama and rarely contacted my brothers. I couldn’t. They were all painful reminders of a life I no longer wanted to remember. I was now Trinette Meyers-Montgomery. Married to a CFO. Who would have ever guessed it? I was willing to do whatever it took to take my life to the next level. By any means necessary. Call me a whore. A user. Whatever. Ms. Netta considers herself a survivor.

      I climbed out the shower, reached for a plush cream bath towel and wrapped it around my body, then moved into the master suite and took a seat on the bed while I rubbed my body down with mango-scented lotion. Leon said I always smell good enough to eat. I giggled at the thought. That night, СКАЧАТЬ