Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. She could have warned me about this, it would have been nice to know before I hopped in bed with Dario.
But did you hop in bed with him?
I shrug off my thoughts as my mother ushers me in the house while asking a ton of questions. I make my excuses to release my bladder, but she’s waiting right outside the powder room when I’m done.
Mommy leads me into the family room where the rest of my family is. All eyes are on my bump, making it feel bigger than it is.
“Oopies, what’s that?” Uncle Kurt asks.
“A baby, Uncle Kurt. You know about those.”
“Toni,” Uncle Rick warns.
It’s no secret that Uncle Kurt has a busload of kids and not all by Auntie Judie. However, we also know Toni will make that blatantly clear in the worst possible way if she keeps talking.
“But who baby dat?” Uncle Kurt continues.
“Humph,” my father huffs. “As if we don’t know.”
“You let the white boy put a pickney in you? The bad man, that woman’s—”
“Kurt, for once in your damn life, keep your mouth shut,” Uncle Ernesto barks.
“Thank you because if I had to say it, I wasn’t going to be so nice,” my mother says to my surprise.
Uncle Kurt throws his hands up. “I didn’t think we were getting this close to them. That’s all. Some favor this has become. And she still don’t remember nothing, eh?”
“Shut the fuck up, Kurt. I’m not going to say it again. Your mouth runs too much. Respect my home or get out.”
“Hold on, Mommy. Is that called for? What’s everyone’s problem with my baby’s father? Why has Dario suddenly become an issue around here?”
“It’s not the boy,” Uncle Talon says.
“Humph,” my father grunts again.
“Humph,” I mock. “Is that all you have to say? What’s your problem, Daddy? I love Dario, always have, but I didn’t leave my residency because of him. I was unhappy. I wanted to find my own thing—”
“Then find your own thing and stop sacrificing yourself for people who wouldn’t do the same for you,” he says with pain in his voice.
“What?” I choke.
“You’re gifted, baby. You can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve never allowed being a Black woman to hold you out of doors your mother and I had to tear our way through. That’s the woman I know deserves better than this. Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you and that child?”
“He had to go tend to his grandfather. He doesn’t even know yet.”
“Why? The Carleen I raised would have made sure he knew and that at least a ring was on her finger. That’s my daughter, that’s the woman I raised you to be.”
I stand, staring at my father, not having a reply for him. I allow his words to sink in. Hurt slices through me.
It hits me in that moment. I didn’t lose myself. I found who I want to be. I’ve made choices and was given help to make them happen. Yeah, I may take on Dario’s feelings when he’s frustrated. As a result, I start to get antsy in my own life, but I can’t help that. It’s how I react to those I’m close to. It’s time I speak up for me.
“You’re wrong, I haven’t sacrificed myself for him. I want to be the best at something I love, and I bust my behind to do so.
“But you know what? I’ve been too scared to own up to my accomplishments because it’s never enough. I’ve been chasing your approval and impossible standards because I want you to be proud of me. Enough.”
I punch at my chest. “I’m an award-winning chef. I co-own one of the top restaurants in New York City. Three stars, count them. Three. Michelin. Stars—” I punch my chest with each word. “It don’t get no better than that. I have a James Beard Award under my belt.” I hit my chest again. “Me. Not Dario, me. He wasn’t in the kitchen when I cooked my damn heart out and gained those accomplishments. I’ve sold over a million copies of my cookbook.
“Did I do it all with my best friend by my side? Yes, I did because he’s been my support system in finding myself, but for the first time, I’m admitting to myself it wasn’t him. It was me. I’m not his clone, I’m his partner.
“I did all that. Just like Mommy had your back as you made your way to chief of staff, I’ve been by Dario’s side as we’ve built a powerhouse of our own. You can’t take that away from me. I earned it. Me.” I punch my chest again.
“Carleen, the baby. Calm down,” my mother pleads.
“No.” I turn back to my father. “Do you even know why I started acquiring the skills of others? Toni learned to play the piano and Justin had the violin. You seemed so disappointed in me for not picking an instrument, when I asked them to show me, they didn’t want to. You should have gotten your own, they told me.