one shots

shorty swing my way [27]

october 1999
sunday
6:34 pm

I filled the bowl with candy while my mother finished up the dinner that I started. She was starting to make our plates as I finished putting a variety of candy in a bowl for trick-or-treaters.

It was Halloween, and I couldn't wait to see the neighborhood kids all dressed up. I loved Halloween just for that sole reason. All the kids are so cute and enthusiastic about it because just for a night, they get to become their favorite superhero or princess or whatever.

"You done fillin' the bowl?" my mother inquired.
"Yes, ma'am," I answered while throwing away the plastic that the various wrapped candies came in.
"Alright. Well, come and eat," she said.

I made my way into the kitchen and sat across from her, at the dinner table.

"How are you feeling?" my mother asked as soon as I put some food into my mouth.
"Better," I muttered softly.

"Are you taking those vitamins that Dr. Fulton gave you?" she questioned.
"Yes, ma'am," I nodded.

"Alright. . . How are your art classes and stuff going? How's yoga?" she asked.
"It's great, Mama. I actually sold my last painting. I'm starting to think that I can actually do something with this art thing. . . And, yoga's a lot better. It gets a little harder every week, but it's worth it," I explained.
"That's great, baby. Who bought your painting?" she asked.
"Ashley— the girl I told you about. Remember?" I nodded.
"Oh yeah! I remember. She seems like a sweetheart. That girl is exactly the kind of motivation you need to get back to yourself. She's independent, career-driven, and is very no-nonsense, from what you tell me. You know, you used to be all of those things," my mother nodded.

"Yeah, well, she probably ain't met the devil yet," I muttered, growing tired of her always comparing me to who I used to be.

It grew quiet as forks clinked against plates.

"I'm glad you left, Renée. . . I'm really proud of you," my mother said after a moment of silence.
I simply nodded, not really knowing what else to say or do but eat.

I thought about DeAndré every day. I missed him. I would never admit it out loud, but I missed him. . . but I missed the old me even more. I also missed working and talking to different people everyday. . . Now, that I was free from DeAndré. . . I didn't even know what to do. It was like I had to learn how to communicate with people again. I had to learn what I liked and didn't like. It was like I finally had two feet to stand on but that's all I knew how to do anymore— just stand there.

It'd only been about three weeks since I left him, so I'm not mad at myself for missing him and still loving him but it just bothered me that I still couldn't shake him. I didn't doubt that he probably had tabs on me already. I didn't doubt that he knew who Ashley was just because I've grabbed coffee (well actually she gets coffee while I get hot cocoa or tea) or lunch with her a couple of times. I knew he was out there lurking, and if he wasn't doing it himself, it was definitely one of his boys doing it for him.

I should've felt uneasy about it, but now that I know how he operates, it's to be expected. It did make me more cautious about what I do and how I do it though.

The first step of getting my plan together was getting together a squadron. DeAndré wasn't doing all the stuff that he was doing alone, so why should I have to?