Ding dong, ding dong. Olivia was awakened out of her comatose sleep. Obviously the doorbell had been ringing for some time now - first appearing in her nightmare as an ambulance siren, but now awakening her back into reality. “I’m coming,” she responded as she forced herself out of bed to go to her front door.
“Child you scared me half to death, I’ve been calling and calling you. Why you ain’t answering yo phone?” Olivia’s mother came barging into the house with her true southern accent that usually only came out when she was angry.
“Ma, where are the kids?” Olivia asked her mother with irritation in her tone.
“They in the car. I needed to check things out with you first. God forbid them babies from seeing anymore tragedy in their young lives,” her mother said as she pushed right past Olivia, looking around as if Olivia were hiding something.
“Ma I’m fine, I was just sleep - that’s all.” Olivia stuck her head out the door and signaled for her children to come inside. “How was your weekend with grandma Sophie?” Olivia asked her children as they walked in.
“It was okay, but all grandma did was ask me questions about you.” Joy admitted to her mother.
Olivia’s mother hissed at her granddaughter, “Ti fi, manman ou pa t 'mande ou nan tout sa kounye a.” (Girl, your mother didn't ask you all of that now.)
“Hey! What did I tell y’all about speaking that stuff in front of me?” Olivia snapped at her mother for speaking Creole.
“It’s not my fault you never learned the language of your ancestors. Or did you forget all together that you were Creole?” her mother snapped back.
Olivia leaned in closer to her daughter, “How was your brother, did he say anything?”
“No, and he didn’t participate in any of the activities that grandma and papa had planned for us either.”
Olivia walked over to her son, knelt down and rubbed his head gently as she tried desperately to search his eyes. “Jackson, sweetie, why don't you go and get yourself cleaned up for dinner. I’m making your favorite – pork-chops, smothered potatoes and string beans.” Jackson Jr. walked off without a word and without ever looking up at his mother. Olivia’s mother waited until Jackson Jr. was completely out of sight before speaking again. “You know that child needs counseling, in fact, I think it would do you...”
“Ma!” Olivia interrupted her mother.
Olivia’s mother snapped at her, now with her hands on her hips, “Oh, mwen regrèt. Èske mitan an nan fraz mwen entèwonp nan konmansman an nan ou?” (Oh, I'm sorry. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?)
Joy put her hand up to her mouth and laughed. Giving her grandma Sophie a devious smile, they both laughed again.
“That’s it! Out! Thank you for keeping the kids for me and J, but it’s time for you to go,” Olivia shouted, now out of frustration.
Olivia’s mother and Joy now looked at her with confusion and concern, then they shot each other another look.
“And will you two stop with the looks. Enough with the secrecy, it’s making me even crazier.” Olivia could feel her neck starting to get hot; the anger was beginning to build.
There was an awkward silence for just about five seconds. Joy tried her best to keep her eyes on the floor. Olivia looked at her daughter; she could tell that Joy was trying not to give away something. Olivia’s mother then spoke to break the silence. “There is no need for you to be jealous of the bond that me and my grand-babies have.” Olivia rolled her eyes at her mother, but of course while her mother’s back was turned.
“Bonding with them is not the problem. We don’t keep secrets from each other, using that language is just a way of trying to keep the rest of us in the dark,” Olivia said while keeping her eyes focused on Joy (she was just waiting for the moment for her to look up). Joy and her grandma shot each other another look.
“Okay! Spill it, Joy! What is it that I don’t know, that you two do?” Olivia’s stern look meant all business.
Joy finally looked up at her mother. She knew her eyes had given her away. “Well...I saw my dad,” she finally admitted.
Olivia could feel her stomach drop, and a sense of panic begin to build in it's place, all they way right up to her throat. “What?! What do you mean you saw your dad?”
Joy looked at her grandmother, “Padon granmè. Mwen panse ke li pral bon finalman kite li konnen.” (Sorry grandma. I think it’ll be good to finally let her know.)
“She has every right!” Olivia’s mother stated firmly.
“Ma! How could you? Why would you do something like that to us? J legally adopted her when she was three years old. HE is her father. Moe hasn’t even seen her since then, and he was barely around before that.” Olivia tried her best to keep her voice down as she responded to her mother.
“Well...” Olivia’s mother began, but was cut off once again by Olivia.
“Knowing you Ma, I know that this can't be the first time, and seeing how much guilt you're hiding in your eyes Joy, I know that there is more to this situation. How long has this been going on?" Olivia asked, looking at both Joy and her mother.
Olivia’s mother hesitated, then rolling her eyes and breathing a breath of defeat, she finally confessed. “Since she was six years old. When he moved back to Chicago, he contacted me. At first I was against it but he showed up at my door one of the days that I was keeping her ... and she remembered him … and he was so happy to see her … and ...”
Olivia cut her mother off yet again, with her complete focus on Joy now. “How often do you seen him Joy?”
Joy’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Just a few times mommy.”
Olivia walked over to her daughter, and wrapped her arms around her. Joy buried her face in her mother’s stomach and hugged her tightly. “Don’t cry, sweetie, I’m not angry with you. None of this is your fault.” Olivia stroked Joy’s long, sandy brown curls. She gently lifted Joy’s chin, kissed her on her forehead and wiped her tears with her hands. “Why don’t you go and help your brother get cleaned up for dinner, and you get cleaned up too. We can talk about this later; I know you must have a lot of questions. I need to have a word with your grandma Sophie. Okay?”
“Okay, mommy.” Joy responded and hugged her mother once more; then she walked over to her grandmother. “Padon granmè,” (Sorry granny) she whispered as she gave her a hug as well.
Olivia’s mother whispered back as she hugged her granddaughter, “Li nan ti bebe oke, ou te fè anyen mal.” (It’s okay baby, you did nothing wrong.)
Olivia gave Joy the side eye as she heard Joy speaking that language she despised. Deciding it wasn’t the best time to correct her daughter for the language, she just sighed. She waited until Joy was completely out of sight. “I cannot believe this right now,” she said as she buried her face in her hands and pulled them slowly down her face.
“Now he has every right to see Joy,” her mother began.
“Hello! No he doesn’t! He gave up his rights when she was three – remember? The jerk actually signed a piece of paper releasing him of his responsibility as a father. Who could do that to a child, a child like Joy – a beautiful sweet and smart child like Joy? Then again, I could ask what type of parent could go behind her daughter’s back and expose her granddaughter to a no-good jerk who gave her up, and used her mother for a punching bag?” She responded to her mother, once again trying to keep her voice to a minimum.
“He regrets his choices, and now he...”
“Now he what, ma! He lives his life while another man takes care of the child he made, and he can still come in and out of her life as pleases. He’s not even legally allowed to see her.”
“You could’ve given him a chance to be a father.”
“You know I couldn’t stay there any longer – one of us would’ve ended up dead. Does Lil J know about this?” Olivia asked her mother as see looked around to see if anyone was in ear shot of hearing their conversation.
“No, he’s never been around him.”
Olivia’s eyes enlarged as though they were going to jump right out of her head. “So you mean to tell me you have left Joy alone with him?”
“You know he wouldn't do anything to hurt Joy,” Olivia’s mother responded nonchalantly.
“Are you listening to yourself right now? HE GAVE HER UP! You ask her if at some point will it hurt.” Olivia was now shaking her head.
“Olivia, now you know when he was around, he treated her like a princess.”
“Yeah ma, when he was around – and we all know that wasn’t very often. My baby deserved better than that. Do you hate J? Is that what it is – you hate my husband, or you hate me? Which is it? How could you betray us like this?” Olivia asked with a painful look at her mother.
“C’mon Liv, you know I’ve never hated Jackson. I don’t hate you either,” Olivia’s mother responded.
“I just can’t believe this. You have no idea what you’ve done.” Olivia moaned with a look of confusion and desperation.
After Olivia put the kids to bed that night, once again she found it hard to sleep. She tiptoed downstairs to the family room so she wouldn’t disturb anyone. She laid down on the couch, turned on the television and turned the volume down low. An hour later, Joy made her way down to the family room. Olivia pretended to be asleep – she couldn’t possibly talk about Joy’s biological father right now. She felt so lifeless right now. Joy looked at her mother with sympathy and walked over to turn off the television. She turned and looked at her mother once more and said “Seyè, tanpri, ban m 'manman m' tounen.” (Lord please give me my mother back.) Then she went back upstairs to go to sleep.
Olivia just lay there in the pitch-black dark, listening to the sound of the rain. Although she had trouble sleeping, she wasn't quite ready to fall asleep even though the rain sounded like a sweet lullaby, thunder and all. She started to get nauseous as she could feel her chest begin to ache – her heart was so heavy.
“Liv sweetie, take my yoke,” she heard her husband say. Whenever Olivia was really worried about something, J would always tell her that to make her feel better. But this time, it wasn’t working. Olivia got angry.
“And just how am I suppose to do that J? How dare you even say that to me right now,” she snapped, but whispering so that she didn’t wake the kids. Still lying in place on the couch, Olivia began to cry. She could feel his hand move gently along her cheek. “Can you believe my mother? How could she do that to us? Lil J hates me, my mother is closer to my daughter than I am, and I’ve failed you immensely, I’ve failed you, I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry, I'm oh so sorry. How could you possibly still love someone like me?”
“There is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you.”
“You know I can’t do this without you,” Olivia cried.
“I will never leave you.”
“Don’t you dare...” Olivia began to say with anger in her tone but the loud thunder startled her and she took it as a sign that maybe she had said enough. She felt his hand upon her chest and the aching of her heart and her anger began to calm down. That’s exactly what he’s always been to her, her calm in the midst of any storm. He always knew just what to say and how to say it. Her rage was no match for his peace. She often wondered where he got it from.
Before she knew it, Olivia was sound asleep and dreaming – not the recurring nightmare that occupied her mind lately but now she found herself back at the Bayou.
Is Jackson Dead?
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