Around the Way Girls 11 Read online

  “Okay, Ma, I will,” the elder of Yanna Banks’s two children answered, and sighed. As he stood over his little sister, Jania, making sure she washed her face and hands before sitting down at the dinner table, he frowned.

  “Oh, and please tell him to try to not be too late, either.”

  Joseph Lamar Banks Jr. was only twelve years old, but he shouldered a great deal of responsibility for a boy his age. Being the namesake of a stern but fair father was sometimes more than the rambunctious youngster could handle. Yet, he never wanted to disappoint the man he deemed as his time-to-time hero. Unlike most of his classmates, JoJo’s parents were still married and living under the same roof. Even with the arguments and disagreements about anything and everything, they stuck it out. Although, truth be told, making the usual shameful call night after night was terrible. Summoning his dad home for his mother, supposedly from his “boy’s house,” was fast becoming a habit that was growing old with the youth.

  “Hello, Daddy?”

  “Hey, now, JoJo. Is your mom’s dinner ready yet?”

  “Yes, Daddy, and she said don’t be late.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in a few. Tell her I said to keep the food hot.”

  “Okay, but she said don’t be late,” JoJo smartly repeated much to his father’s dislike.

  “Look, boy, I don’t know who in the hell you talking to in that tone. But I said tell her to keep my damn food hot no matter what time I get there. Now go run and tell her that.”

  “Yes, sir.” JoJo knew it was in his best interest to shut up and stop while he was ahead.

  Each evening before JoJo went to sleep, he prayed his mother would get the courage to stand up for herself. He wanted her to stop being his father’s constant doormat. He knew she deserved much better than how his overbearing father was playing her. However, if she didn’t speak up, he knew he sure as hell couldn’t. God, please give my momma strength to stop Daddy from going over to that nasty, stank-looking lady’s house all the time. I hate her and her dumb-dumb son Tyrus who gets to see him as much as me and Jania do. Amen!

  The man of the house, Joseph Sr., worked the early morning shift at General Motors on the line. He was a tall, muscular man in stature. Everyone on his close-knit block on the west side of Detroit knew him. Highly regarded wherever he went, whether it was out of fear of his quick-fire temper or just plain respect, the father of two was a force to be reckoned with.

  Migrating from Alabama in the early eighties, Joseph Sr. had true swagger. He had Southern charm that made him the perfect gentleman to most. For those strangers who didn’t know any better, from the outside looking in, Yanna was indeed blessed with a perfect man. It was true, and common knowledge to those living near the couple, that he was involved in an ongoing affair with Dawn Jackson. Ms. Jackson, a single mother of one, had recently moved into the area. Quickly known as the neighborhood good-time girl who slept with just about anyone who hopped, skipped, or jumped as long as they paid her, she currently had her claws in Yanna’s husband.

  Taking that one negative and outrageous factor out of the equation, Joseph Sr., head of the household, rarely missed a meal with his own family. A good paymaster, never late on one bill that crossed the modest threshold of their brick-framed bungalow home, he was a good provider. Since he didn’t cause his wife to worry about the high mortgage, or about food in the cabinets or clothes on the kids’ backs, he felt his shit didn’t stink. Arrogantly, he felt his blatant indiscretions and the sideway glances of pity his spouse endured from neighbors were somehow allowable. Whenever his wife came in the house embarrassed and ashamed of what people would say out loud, as well as whisper, about his cheating ways, Joseph Sr. shrugged his shoulders. He would buy her a dozen roses or maybe treat Yanna to a brand-new dress to soothe her mental pain.

  “Did you call him?” Yanna asked her son a few minutes later.

  “Yes, Ma, I called.” JoJo secretly rolled his eyes at her stupidity of dealing with his daddy and all his madness.

  “And is he on his way?” Yanna wondered. She’d set the table and now rinsed out a few glasses. “I don’t want his dinner to get cold.”

  “Instead of asking me all these questions, do you want me to go and get him from around the corner? I can.” Receiving a cold, hard stare from his mother, JoJo instantly regretted asking her that million-dollar question. However, he couldn’t help himself as he headed toward the front door. “I know what house she stays in. It’s not a problem. I can go right now.”

  “What did you just say to me?” Yanna, with wet hands, slowly approached her son with a look of venom in her eyes. Jania watched like she was scared that her brother was seconds away from getting popped right in the mouth.

  “Nothing, Ma.” He wisely backed down, treading on dangerous ground, wanting to avoid trouble. “I didn’t say nothing.”

  “I thought not.” She angrily wiped her hands down her apron. In just those few seconds, her blood had boiled just enough to form a bead of sweat on her forehead. Embarrassed that now even her own children were mocking what she was putting up with, she fought back tears. “You ain’t so big that you can’t get a whooping. Now, go sit your wannabe-grown behind on that front porch and let me know the minute that man pulls up. You understand me?”

  “Yes, Ma. I understand.” JoJo twisted his lip up as he thought about how his father was disrespecting his mom every single day. I wish he’d go away and never come back! I used to think he was everything. How could he do this to her? JoJo looked at his mother and admired how pretty she was.

  Yanna stood five foot three, with a sugar brown skin tone and shoulder-length, naturally curly hair. She had piercing brown eyes and a smile that could melt an iceberg. She took pride in being a good person. The thirty-four-year-old mother stayed immersed in helping the kids with their homework, keeping the house clean, and spending time with her kids every chance she had. For Yanna, her family was her life. She knew her husband was unfaithful, but she didn’t want to be the one to rock the boat and break her family apart. Keeping busy, she hid from the reality that her husband was having an affair.

  What didn’t help the situation were the nosey women in her neighborhood, who always offered up their opinions about her husband’s extramarital dealings. It was like they had a personal vendetta, and made it their purpose to give Yanna daily updates on her husband’s actions. Although most claimed they were just trying to help her or put her up on game, Yanna was by no means a fool. The loyal wife knew they were just trying to be all up in her business, and she refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing how hurt she truly was.

  Yanna was determined to stay strong. She had convinced herself that this was just a bad season in her marriage and things would get better. She had come too far from her rough upbringing, and she refused to let anyone see her beak. She’d grown up in the projects and had no problem letting any female know, but she had long since outgrown street brawling.

  Night after night it was getting harder and harder for her keep ignoring the truth, though. It took everything in her power not to march around the block and knock on Dawn’s door. There had been countless times that Yanna had to stop herself from taking her good butcher knife out of the kitchen drawer and running up on Dawn. She’d thought about how great it would feel to shove the shiny and sharp blade directly into Dawn’s black heart. The only thing that stopped her was the thought of going to jail if she got caught. She knew her children needed her. “For better or worse, richer or poorer,” was Yanna’s constant response to the women, while trying to hold her head up and keep her dignity intact. One day, Dawn Jackson gonna get hers, y’all will see! That bitch can’t just keep sleeping with the next woman’s man and it be all good.

  Unfortunately, Yanna Banks wasn’t the only one who suffered shame from her husband’s constant cheating. JoJo would catch it going to the corner store, or at the playground, or even in the lunchroom line. Ridiculed by his classmates for having a “play stepbrother,” Tyrus Jackson, JoJo tri
ed his best to ignore the taunts. As much as he tried, though, the jokes and slick comments would eventually get to him, and he stayed in detention as a result of physical retaliation, disappointing his parents. His mother knew he was only taking up for her. And his father couldn’t say much because JoJo’s reason for fighting was something he refused to acknowledge. JoJo couldn’t help but try to beat down the other kids for talking smack about how dumb his mother was for staying married to his no-good daddy. JoJo didn’t want to fight, but he had to on principle even though deep down inside he knew his classmates were right: his mother was a fool.

  JoJo did as he was told by his clearly agitated mother. Sitting silently on the wood steps looking back and forth up the block for more than twenty minutes, he grew inpatient awaiting any sign of his father. Just when he thought he’d die from hunger, Joseph Sr.’s two-tone pickup truck turned the corner and roared into the driveway.

  “Hey, Pops. You know you’re late,” JoJo sarcastically pointed out to his father as he hopped out of the truck and made his way to the porch.

  “What did I tell you about that mouth of yours?”

  “I know, Pops. I was just saying.” JoJo hoped he wouldn’t receive a smack to his lips as he devilishly grinned.

  “Yeah, okay, so just come on and let’s eat,” Joseph Sr. stated nonchalantly as he rested his hand on his son’s shoulder and they entered the house.

  They both walked into the dining room at the same time. “I’m starving, Yanna. I could eat a damn horse.” Joseph Sr. smiled as the smell of the delicious foods assaulted his nose.

  “I thought I told you to tell me when he pulled up.” Yanna tugged her son’s earlobe.

  “Sorry, Ma. I forgot.” JoJo quickly slid into his spot at the table across from Jania.

  “What’s the big deal, Yanna?” Joseph Sr. quizzed after witnessing his son’s upbeat demeanor take a dismal change. “Just relax. Chill out.”

  “He’s always forgetting something lately.” Yanna judgmentally raised her eyebrow. It was obvious that she was more disappointed in her husband’s tardiness than in her son’s forgetfulness. Caught in her emotions, her eyes dared her husband to call her on it as she turned to retrieve the pan of homemade biscuits from the warm oven.

  “Listen here, Yanna. I’m not in the mood to hear all that nerve-racking complaining you always doing day in and day out,” Joseph Sr. scolded his wife as if she were a child. “That’s why I stay away most of the time: that fly mouth of yours! I swear to God, you stay on your fucking period!”

  She angrily turned with the platter of hot biscuits in her hands. “Joseph, have you completely lost your mind? Don’t say that in front of my kids! Matter of fact, don’t talk to me like that in front of my kids.”

  “Your kids? The last time I checked, they were my kids too, unless there’s something you want to tell me. Moreover, I know damn well you not telling me what to say in my own house, are you?”

  “No, but I—”

  “But nothing,” he insisted with his chest stuck out as he sat down at the head of the table. “Just bring me my plate so I can eat, take a hot shower, and go to bed. I’m tired.”

  Yanna, always one to back down to her bossy husband, decided to let him win this time. She knew if she kept at him his verbal insults would only get worse. In full submission mode, she prepared her family’s plates and sat down, joining her husband, son, and daughter at the dinner table. As the family lowered their heads, Joseph Sr., who was the biggest hypocrite in the room, led them in a prayer before the family dug in. The family of four ate quietly as they devoured everything on their plates. First, the fried chicken disappeared, then all the greens, followed by the corn and mashed potatoes. Inhaling the aroma of a fresh, hot apple pie warming in the oven, the troubled husband and wife went through the normal ritual of idle chitchat as they finished their dinner.

  “So, how was your day?” Yanna asked Joseph Sr., trying to stay on his good side.

  “Same as it always is, baby,” he huffed while pouring honey on the last piece of bread, “long and drawn-out. I swear if I didn’t have you and these kids who always need something or other I’d quit that factory and let some other fool have that headache-ass job.”

  “Babe, just be blessed you have steady work, as bad as the economy is.”

  “What you know about the economy? You ain’t got no worries.” He barely looked over to acknowledge her. “You living real good around here as far as I can see. You don’t do shit but wake up in the house I pay for, cook the food I put on the table, and look after these kids I blessed you with. As far as I can see, you living the American Dream.”

  Yanna felt her spirits drop yet again. It was becoming harder by the day to endure her husband’s verbal attacks and constant put-downs. Every time he left that home-wrecking whore’s house he would come home acting as if he were a god without fault or sin. “I thank you for all you do, but you act as if I don’t do anything at all and that’s not necessarily true. It’s not easy to do everything I do every day. And it’s getting harder and harder to stretch the food budget you give me for these two here,” she said matter-of-factly, watching her son and daughter drink their glasses of grape Kool-Aid. “And they say times are about to get much harder. So, um . . .”

  Joseph Sr., fingers sticky and crumbs around his mouth, glanced upward from his plate. “Yanna, are you saying I don’t give you enough to provide for my children? Are you saying I don’t work hard enough in that sweatbox day after day?” He was now on the defensive as his voice got louder.

  “No, dear. I was just saying the prices at the grocery store are going up.” She once again backed down, fearing her man’s harsh verbal tongue-lashing would increase in tone. “That’s all I was attempting to say.”

  JoJo and Jania were used to the mental abuse their mother was forced to undergo, and they knew to just be quiet. It was best to stay out of grown folks’ business, as they were reminded constantly.

  “Can you tell me why you always find something to get on my back about?” Joseph Sr. barked at his wife with a slight pound on the dinner table, causing the pitcher of Kool-Aid to rattle. “I’m out there every day busting my butt, and all you do is sit around and constantly complain. If you don’t appreciate me then—”

  “Then what? Well, I guess that sleazy Dawn Jackson you keep chasing behind every day without any shame is perfect, huh?” Yanna mumbled under her breath as if she was second-guessing even making the comment in the first place.

  You could’ve heard a pin drop around the table as Joseph Sr. let his fork fall onto the plate. He gave Yanna a wicked, crooked grin. “What did you just say, woman?”

  Yanna took a deep breath before speaking. “You heard me correctly.” She raised her usually timid voice, getting up out of her chair and showing she wasn’t in the mood for any more of his bully routine. As she stood, she felt overwhelmed with confidence. She didn’t know where this sudden burst of courage—or holy boldness, as the women in the church would have called it—came from, but she was going to use it up while it lasted. “I do my best to make you and this family happy, and all I get in return is grief. I’m tired of being second best. You gonna get rid of that home-wrecker Dawn once and for all, and I mean it. I’m done playing games with you and this marriage.”

  Joseph Sr. sat dumbfounded, at a loss for words. His wife had never called him out on his behavior before. And now, after seeing the hurt in her eyes and hearing the pain in her voice, he almost felt bad for messing around behind her back. He finally conjured up some words to speak. Yet, before he could respond or reassure his wife of his devotion to her, his cell phone rang, interrupting the spontaneous argument.

  After taking his BlackBerry off his thick leather belt, Joseph Sr. looked at the screen. To his surprise, he saw Dawn’s number flash repeatedly. Confused about the reason his side piece was calling him at this time of the evening, knowing good and well he was having dinner with Yanna and the kids, Joseph Sr. disrespectfully pushed the talk button
. Sitting motionless at the table, his family listened in on his side of the conversation.

  “Yeah! What? He did what? Oh, hell naw! Why is he even over there? Is he touching you? I’m on my way!” Joseph Sr. leaped to his feet. Grabbing his truck keys and almost knocking his small daughter out of her seat, he bolted toward the front door.

  “Have you lost your damn mind, Joseph? Where do you think you are going right in the middle of dinner?” Yanna couldn’t believe her eyes and ears as she and her two children followed her irate husband onto the front porch. In dismay she watched him jump in his truck. “Joseph Banks,” Yanna irately called out, “you get back in here with your family right now! This is ridiculous! Enough is enough! I swear to God I done had it with this bullshit!”

  “Yanna, y’all go back inside the house and finish eating,” Joseph Sr. yelled as the nosey neighbors watched. “This doesn’t concern you or my kids.” He quickly backed out of the driveway and was on his way back down the street in the same direction he had come from less than a half hour prior.

  Having no choice but to do as they were instructed, Yanna ushered JoJo and her young daughter off the porch and back into their home. Hours seemed to drag by as the evening sunlight disappeared, making way for the glow of the moon. The kids had long since gone to bed as Yanna, who sat on the couch furiously awaiting Joseph Sr.’s return, simmered.

  I’m done! If he wants to be with that hood rat so bad, he can have her! I’m done! Yanna told herself, knowing deep in her heart, though, that she didn’t want to lose her family just that easy. She closed her weary eyes for what seemed to be only a few seconds and fell into a deep sleep. Her subconscious took her back to her once “ra-ra, ’bout it, ’bout it” life in the projects before she was married with kids. It was a time when a bitch like Dawn Jackson would have been dragged out of her house by her hair for disrespecting Yanna.