Reese Anderson's Blog
April 27, 2014
First Chapter Of When It Rains It Pours
Check out an excerpt from my novel When It Rains, It Pours. I present it humbly, and I hope you enjoy it.
When It Rains It Pours
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
I guess there will always be people who prey on your downfall. Personally, that never bothered me. I can’t pay attention to what people say anymore because at the end of the day, I have to answer to one person.
People have tried to place a label on me since high school with all their negative, petty, hurtful comments. She’s a slut, she’s a hoe, she’s a freak. Wait, did I just recite a Notorious B.I.G song? The point is: people need to realize; I, Janelle Andrews, am here to do one thing; live my life.
I sat in class of my predominately white university, bored as hell. Sometimes I regretted my decision to attend Kennesaw State University in Kennesaw, Georgia. Other times I was elated with my decision.
Kennesaw State was basically the only school I could attend that I knew I would stay out of trouble. Kennesaw is about 20 minutes outside of Atlanta, and ultimately 20 minutes away from anything fun. It’s an interesting story how I ended up in Georgia. I guess I should start from the beginning:
Originally, I’m from Philadelphia. I love my city with all of me, and while there’s nothing like home, Philadelphia broke me. After I got pregnant my last year of high school, my mom sent me to Atlanta to stay with my aunt, Kelly. My move to Atlanta was possibly one of the hardest times of my life.
It was a blessing in disguise that I ended up losing that baby. At first I was sad, but then I realized I wasn’t ready for a baby anyway. The rumor around North Philly remains: I got pregnant, had an abortion, and fled to Atlanta so I wouldn’t destroy my mother’s image (who, by the way, happens to be a pastor at North Philadelphia Baptist Ministry).
My mother inherited the church from her mother. My grandparents died very young, in a car crash. They were in their 50s when their lives were tragically cut short. My mom keeps newspapers of the horrific accident.
Out of respect for her parents, she kept the church in the family. At a young age, who wants to run a church? I mean I know she grew up in the church, but that’s a lot to handle for someone in their late 20s/early 30s. I could never. Okay, so back to me.
I was a handful in high school. My mom’s church congregation wasn’t very surprised when I popped up pregnant a month into the summer before my senior year. I really don’t know how people even found out. It spread like wildfire.
At first I tried hiding it from my mom. That was probably one of my dumbest ideas. I wasn’t really eating as healthy as I should during my “hiding it” stage of my pregnancy. Now, please do not misconstrue that with me trying to hurt my baby! The thing was; I was eating enough for just me. I wasn’t eating like I was eating for two. At that time I wasn’t fully grasping the concept that it was no longer just me. I started throwing up every morning and finally my mom suggested I visit a doctor.
I played along with my mother. I acted like I never knew I was pregnant. When the doctor told me I was, I just remember looking at my mom as she broke down. As soon as we got home, she told my dad. My dad was a really easygoing black man who was born and raised in the south. He moved to Philly for college, where he met my mother.
Of course my dad was mad when my mother told him about my pregnancy, but he was a firm believer of the phrase ‘you can’t cry over spilled milk’. He was my rock and he always stayed by my side. He told me we would get through it and even tried to get my mother to join our movement.
My mother wasn’t having that though. The rest of that summer she didn’t speak to me. She said I was an embarrassment, a whore, and careless. I was really stressed out during that time.
My boyfriend at the time and father of my unborn child, Kevin, really tried to help things but they just got worse and worse. He asked me to move in with him and his parents but my mom said that would look even worse. He was just trying to ease some of the visible tension in my house around that time.
My mother and I argued every day until she lost her mind one day and put her hands on me. Of course being pregnant and easily irritated, I slapped her right back. My bags were packed that same night and I was shipped off to Atlanta.
That night would haunt me for years. That night messed me up mentally. I wanted to be mad at my mother, but I was more hurt than anything. How could you just kick your child out? And the worst part of it was it didn’t even hurt her to do it.
The stress of my relationship with my mom, leaving my boyfriend, being a pregnant teen and being in a new place really took a toll on me. I miscarried in the beginning of my senior year of high school.
Kevin, the father of my child, was so mad at me. He actually thinks I lost the baby on purpose. He’s never said it, but he hints it any time we get anywhere near that discussion.
My mom actually tried to call me when she found out about the miscarriage but I refused to answer. When I needed her most she turned her back on me so why be so kind now?
When I moved to Atlanta with my Aunt Kelly, she showed me a different way to things. When I first moved, Aunt Kelly was managing one of the biggest singers in Atlanta; as well as smaller clients in the entertainment industry. She has a four-bedroom house for herself. She didn’t even have a dog. Must be nice.
Kelly always wanted children but with such a chaotic schedule, it was hard for her to really get to know a man who loved her for her. Once they found out how connected she was to the industry, how financially set she was, and how respected she was around Atlanta, they thought of ways to use her.
Kelly never seemed to be in a rush to start a family. One of the biggest lessons my aunt stressed was “you don’t have to play by society’s rules”. She stressed heavily that everyone makes mistakes and it’s what you do after the mistakes that count. She was really big on doing things her own way, and not what’s expected. So, it was no surprise she was pushing 30, and perfectly content with being a bachelorette.
My aunt was always looked at as the black sheep of the family because she chooses a career over having a family. My aunt never led the rest of the family to believe she had any interest in starting a family. She worked, worked, and worked some more. She visited us every holiday in Philly but always came alone.
Another thing I picked up on Kelly over the years is how she never seemed to be interested in the church. I think it was because all she does is work and never has time to think about anything else. My mom made very little mention of it, but I could see she was hurt by it. In a sense I respected my aunt so much for leaving the “church life”. There was something beautiful about leaving everything you know with hopes of success.
My aunt is relatively young. She is 29 and my mom 42. I am 20, going on 21, so it’s easier for me to relate to my aunt when it comes to taking advice.
Well, enough about my past. Let’s fast forward to the present. I still haven’t fixed my relationship with my mom and at this point I don’t care to. She left me when I needed her most. I just want to make it in life just so I can show her how insignificant she is. Just to show her that all the shit she has done to me doesn’t affect me. I plan on never speaking to her again, as long as I live.
But I do speak to my dad often. He is always trying to get me to speak to my mother but I tell him the same thing: when God is ready for us to get it together, he’ll let me know. Sometimes I’ll take flights back up to Philly to visit my cousins and him. It’s hard finding time to just see my dad because my mom is usually so close. The first time I visited him was five weeks after I lost the baby. I showed up to his job unannounced. He was so happy to see me.
That visit I stayed with my now-ex-boyfriend. When my dad asked was I coming by the house to see my mother, I let him know how I felt about my mother and to this very day; that is a conversation we both try to avoid.
When my mom found out I visited Philly without a phone call, visit or anything-she was livid. She called my aunt and told my aunt off for not letting her know I was coming. My mom and my aunt didn’t speak for a while. Sometimes she was petty like that.
Now here I am almost three years later, 20 years old, and two years into my business degree at Kennesaw State University. Every time I go back to Philly, my friends ask me the same damn question: why did I stay in Atlanta for college? They follow-up with the question: let alone a white school?
I guess my decision had a lot to do with high school in Philly. A lot of people mistook my mom being a pastor for me being a pushover, or soft or whatever the cool term is. I was always getting into arguments and altercations with girls who thought I tolerated disrespect. I got suspended twice in high school for fighting (well defending myself).
I feel like most of the black girls I went to high school with hated me just because of how I looked. I’m not trying to toot my horn but I’m a decent looking girl! Always have been! I’m about 5’ 7” tall and growing up was always told my body was “mature” for my age. My dad is black and my mom is half black, half Asian. I have a head full of curly hair and the skin tone of a Hispanic.
I got teased a lot in elementary school. It was mainly girls who made fun of my hair, which my mom tried putting into a ponytail most days, but it was more like a big afro with a random scrunchie. I am pretty sure I wore a ponytail 95% of my elementary career.
It was high school that took me for a spin. In high school I had about 4 female friends, but other than them, I didn’t really know one female who liked me. There were always rumors I was dealing with their sloppy ass boyfriends when in reality I had the same boyfriend for two years in high school. He just attended another school.
So back to what I was saying; the high school females were always trying to start a fight with me over the most stupid things. Just because I accidentally bumped them in the hall, stuff like that. Yes. They were that petty.
So when I had the choice not to put up with black females-I took advantage of it.
“Miss Andrews!” My professor called on me. He had caught me off guard so I responded with an attitude.
“Yesss?” I said dragging the “s” to show my annoyance.
“I asked you what is the meaning of ‘life’ in Shakespeare’s words?” he repeated.
“I’m sorry, I lost you.” I respectfully told him.
He was getting on my damn nerves. I know he was only calling on me because he knew I was daydreaming again. I had a habit of doing that in his boring class. I decided to pay attention the rest of class to spare myself from further embarrassment.
Finally he released us. As soon as I got out of class, my dad called me. I let it rang a few times as I tried to simultaneously hold my books and get my phone out of my bag.
“Hey baby girl,” my dad said less than enthusiastically.
“Hey, Pa. How’s it going?” I asked him.
“Your mom is in the hospital” was all he said. I stopped walking because the wind was messing with my hearing. I came to a complete stop and asked him to repeat himself.
“Your mom is in the hospital!” he said getting annoyed with me.
“Dad, don’t yell at me. I didn’t hear you,” I yelled back at him.
“Well can you hear me now?” he asked like one of those Verizon commercials. I thought about what he just said. What the hell did he want me to do if she was in the hospital? I ain’t no damn doctor.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked him like I really cared.
I’m not going to lie. I was to the point where I didn’t really have any care in my heart for my mother. Of course I didn’t want her to die or anything, but I just couldn’t get over the bullshit she put me through. Not yet anyway.
“She was having chest pains,” my dad continued. “She got checked in today and they’re just running a couple of tests on her.”
I was still silent. I wasn’t sure why my dad was even telling me this. I damn sure wasn’t about to pay her a visit. We hadn’t spoken in almost three years. I wasn’t ready to lay my feelings down. I needed a minute to get my shit together. You would think three years was enough, but it wasn’t. I had a lot of pain in my heart.
“I’m sending you a plane ticket—”
“No Pa, I-am-not comin’. I’m sorry but I can’t do that yet. I—”
“Ain’t no one playin’ with you girl. It’s enough of this crap now! I
gave you all the space you needed. Now your mom is sick so get your ass up here” he said and hung up.
That was the fourth time my dad ever took that tone with me. I guess he was just stressed about my mom being in the hospital. The last thing I needed was this bullshit around finals time. I took out my phone and did the first thing I always think to do when some unexpected, stressful shit comes up in my life: I called my ex-boyfriend Kevin.
Kevin and I had a very weird relationship. After I lost the baby, we were nowhere as close as we once were. I had known Kevin for 7 years. He was my first everything and I loved him so much. He was the first boy I kissed, first boy I cried on and the first one I “made love” to. I put “made love” in quotation marks because we were young and barely knew anything about making love.
Our relationship was definitely less than perfect but it was one of the best ones I had. We spoke once or twice a week after I lost the baby a couple of years ago. He said if we spoke too much we would get attached again. Of course in my head, Kevin knows best so I went along with it.
“Hey beautiful,” he said happy to hear from me.
“Kev, my mom is in the hospital” I told him as soon as I heard his voice. Kevin was really a good guy. Very easy to talk to.
I used to be a cheerleader at Northeast High School, and I met Kevin at a basketball game back in middle school. He was the starting shooting guard for Central High School for four years. Ever since he took my number in middle school, we clicked. At first we were close friends, then in high school we became more.
I loved Kevin because he was so smart, talented and family-oriented. His parents were both from Trinidad but he was born and raised here. He would give a woman life, because he was just that attractive. He has a brother who is about two years older than him who is equally as gorgeous.
Kevin went on to play basketball on a Temple University basketball scholarship.
When I first moved to Atlanta it was hard for us. We were used to seeing each other all the time and now we wouldn’t see each other at all. When I lost the baby we stopped talking for a while. In his head, I did it purposely so that I wouldn’t have to deal with all the stress of being pregnant at seventeen. I guess no one will truly know what that time in my life was like. After we got on good terms again, we vowed to never mention my miscarriage.
“So that means you’re coming up then?” he asked me.
“No, not exactly. I really don’t know if I’m ready to see her. I mean
I haven’t seen or spoke to her in three years. Isn’t it a little weird for me to show up just because she’s sick?” I asked him.
He sighed.
“That was always your problem. You are so damn stubborn. This is your mother. Who cares about how awkward it may be? God forbid you lose her. Then your last thoughts of her will be how you slapped your own mother. Come on Nells, you’re smarter than that!” he said with a little disappointment in his voice.
I don’t know why but it’s so easy for Kevin to get through to me. I guess it’s because he’s my best friend and a true friend would never steer you wrong.
“If I go up there to the hospital, will you come with me?” I asked him. Sometimes I can be such a baby.
“Yeah, sure but it has to be Friday or Saturday afternoon. Just call me when you get up here. Are you staying with me or you going to stay with your cousin?” he asked me.
I hadn’t exactly thought about that. Usually when I go up there I stay with my cousin Meeka. Meeka was the twin cousin everyone has. You know, the cousin that is around your age and you guys act like siblings even though you’re cousins? Well, that’s Meeka.
Meeka was more than a bad influence. She taught me how to smoke, drink, she persuaded me to start having sex and everything else I wasn’t suppose to be doing when I was younger.
She was an only child, just like me, and getting into trouble seemed to be our specialty. She got kicked out of the house at 16 and was forced to move with her then-20-year-old boyfriend. She took a job answering phones at a chiropractor a few months after she got kicked out. Then she dropped out of school.
Since then, my cousin has been doing well for herself. She moved out and got herself a car and a new boyfriend. I usually stay with her every time I go to Philly. Only because I know my mom doesn’t really care for her and she would never show up to where Meeka lives because of the solemn fact she doesn’t know where she lives.
“I mean if I have to. I rather stay with you but if that’s going to be a problem” I said drifting my sentence.
“Girl you know you can stay here. Just hit me up with the details and let me know when you’re flying in. You can stay with me.”
“Okay, thanks boo. Let me get going. I have to run some errands and take care of everything before I call my dad back and have him get the ticket and everything. I love you.”
“Love you too Nells, see ya soon” he said, and then hung up.
I had so much to do. My mom being sick was really going to fuck everything up. I had to E-Mail all my teachers for my Friday classes and let them know why I wouldn’t be in class. Then I had to make up a lie to tell my current boyfriend, because there was no way he was going to be okay with me staying with Kevin. Or even seeing him for that matter. He just didn’t understand our friendship. After that, I had to coordinate how to get to the airport because my auntie was out of town for two weeks. She’s on a business trip in California. Then after I did all that, I had to call my dad back to actually buy the ticket.
Everything was telling me not to go to Philly. It was so inconvenient for me. But I knew if I didn’t I would hear it from everyone.
Teach me how to love. Show me the way to surrender my heart. Girl I’m so lost. Teach me how to love. How I can— my Musiq Soulchild ringtone sang to me. I love that song. It will never get old to me. That was the ringtone I gave my current boyfriend, Cash, because that’s exactly how I felt our relationship was. It was a lesson about how to make two people who have trouble loving, love each other.
“Ay, Shawty” he said as soon as I answered the phone.
“Hey what’s up Michael?” I said.
“What I told you about callin’ me Michael? My name is Cash. I’m tired of tellin’ you that shit!” he said.
Sometimes “Cash” is a handful. Cash’s real name was Michael Lumpkin III. He was a local drug dealer and made more than enough to support me and him. He lived in a fairly nice apartment and he drove an all black new Dodge Charger. I didn’t love Cash but I definitely needed him in my life. He called me everyday, he listened to all my bullshit and he provided me financially.
When I say provided financially, money was not an issue with Cash. He
was not cheap. I never asked for anything, but I know if it ever came down to it, it wouldn’t be an issue. In return, all I really had to do was have sex with him. That’s really his only, request.
I cared about him but not the way I cared about Kevin. The only reason I kept Cash in my life was because I was so afraid of being alone. Do not sit there and judge me like I’m the only one with this issue. Chronic loneliness is an epidemic.
Cash didn’t treat me bad but he didn’t treat me anything close to good. He is very rude to me and he’s quite possessive. In my head, he will eventually change.
“Sorry, I’m glad you called though. My dad just told me my mom is in the hospital and I need to go see her this weekend,” I said changing the topic.
“Your mother that you haven’t spoken to in like five years?” he said sarcastically.
“Well being that I only have one mother that’s probably the same mother.”
He was beginning to annoy with his smart-ass mouth. We get into it a lot over the way he talks to me.
“Yeah, well I just find it a lil’ weird that you talk all that shit
‘bout her but now you “care about her” and have to flee to Philly? Anyway, did you want me to come up there with you?” he asked me.
“No? I mean it’s already awkward enough for just me. I don’t need to bring you along” I told him. What does he mean did I want him to come? I mean, did I invite him or something?
“When you leavin’ and for how long?” he asked me.
“That’s the next thing I wanted to ask you. Do you think you can give me a ride to the airport tomorrow morning? The earlier I leave, the faster I can get back.”
“Yeah, that’s straight. You spendin’ the night, tonight?”
“Yeah, sure” I said unenthusiastically.
“Okay, call me when you’re on your way” he said and then hung up.
I didn’t even get to say “okay” or “bye”. Cash was so rude sometimes. I reached the parking deck and got inside my 2008 Nissan Maxima. I drove this car all the way from Philly when my mom kicked me out. It was basically the only thing they let me keep. That was only because my dad had given it to me as a birthday/graduation gift right before that summer everything went down.
I dialed my aunt’s number and put it on speakerphone as I drove home. As usual, I got her answering machine.
BEEP.
“Hey Auntie, my dad called me today. He called to tell me that mom is in the hospital because she’s having chest or heart issues or something. They’re running a couple of tests on her. My dad wants me to come see her so I will probably be leaving tomorrow morning or afternoon. I don’t think I’m ready but we will see how this goes. Call me back when you get this message. Love ya.”
When I arrived at the house I emailed all my teachers about missing their Friday classes. I always felt like I needed to stay on top of school. That seemed to be the only thing that I could do right. My mom and dad didn’t come to my high school graduation. The only ones that came were my aunt and Cash. I told my dad I didn’t want my mom coming. He told me if we all couldn’t attend as a family then he wasn’t coming either. My dad is passive about a lot, except family values. He was a tad more firm in that sense. He’s always been a tough love kind of guy. So I can only respect it.
I called my dad back and let him know that he should book my plane ticket for the morning. He was very excited that I had finally decided to put my troubles behind me and finally go see my mom. He booked the flight for Friday at noon. I packed all my shit and headed over to Cash’s later that night.
I knocked on the door impatiently. I don’t care what anyone says but it gets just as cold in the south during the winter as it does in Philly. Cold is cold wherever you live, and it was definitely cold.
“Damn quit bangin’ on the door so hard” he swung open the door.
“You knew I was coming! Why didn’t you leave it unlocked? It’s cold
out here!”
“Now you know I can’t leave my door unlocked. Just get inside” he said as he grabbed my suitcase and my knapsack off the stoop.
I went in and plopped on his couch. He went upstairs and dropped my
stuff off in his room. He came back down the stairs and sat down next to me on the couch. He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.
“So what time is your flight?”
“It’s at noon but I want to get there at like ten so I don’t have to stress about waiting on a line to get checked in and everything.”
“Aiight. That’s coo. So you finally ready to see your mom, huh?”
“Not really. I don’t even want to talk about it. I just feel like my dad is forcing me into doing something that he knows I don’t want to do.”
“Well I’m sure he’s not doin’ it to annoy you. He’s probably just sick of your bullshit,” he said keeping his eye on the television.
“MY bullshit? She made me lose my baby and it’s MY bullshit? Everyone has a breaking point. Yes, every day I regret putting my hands on my mother but there’s only so much a person can take. She was breaking me down and that’s the only way I knew to react. I’m tired of everyone acting like our relationship is my fault. It’s not! Yes, I added to it but it’s not MY bullshit.”
“Janelle, I don’t care what your mom does to you- you don’t put your hands on her” he said.
I really just wanted to stop talking about it. No one could ever know what I was going through at that time unless they were me.
“I just think you’re a spoiled ass brat who can’t admit you fucked up,” he said.
I got up and walked to the kitchen. I needed to get away from him for a minute.
“Cash, I can’t do this with you tonight,” I said walking back to the living room. “I think I’m going to head home. I’m too stressed to argue with you tonight.”
I started heading upstairs to get my stuff. I heard him following me up the steps.
“I’m not tryin’ to argue wit’ ya. But if you want to go, you can go” he said.
I just looked at him. Sometimes I wondered why I stayed with him.
“Cash, please? Just please cut me some slack. I wanted to spend my last day in Atlanta, before I go, with you. Can we just make it a good night?” I pleaded with him.
He kissed my neck. That was one of his weak “foreplay” methods. Then he starts licking all over me like a dog. He was so predictable when it came to sex. Don’t get me wrong, Cash is beyond attractive. He’s about 5’ 10” or 5’ 11” with light brown skin. He has a head full of curly hair and the sexist lips you’ll probably ever see. But when it came to sex, he was the most uncoordinated person you’ll probably ever meet.
About ten minutes later, I laid there just thinking about all the shit my mom put me through while Cash slept like a baby. It seemed like just yesterday she would walk in my room and say “you need to go out there and find a job to support your child because you know once you get fat and ugly he’s going to leave you to raise that baby by yourself”. I would just sit there and cry all day.
On the day we got into our altercation, I was sitting on the couch eating some caramel glazed, chocolate popcorn I picked up on the way home from Kevin’s house. Her and my dad walked in from a weekday church service. I had a really bad headache that day that just wouldn’t budge. My dad went to the kitchen and my mom walked over to the television and cut it off like I wasn’t sitting there.
“You’re just going to sit in front of the television all nine months?”
“Ma, please? Not today. I have a really bad headache, I’m not feeling well” I told her.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you laid on your back,” she snapped back.
“Ma please, just leave me alone” I said mellow.
By that point she could see she was already getting to me so she
continued.
“Is the truth not what you want to hear? You don’t like the sound of you and your bastard child being a—.”
“Mom, shut the fuck up!” I screamed at her.
By this time my dad was making his way back into the living room to see what was going on. My mom leapt over to the couch and slapped the shit out of me. I grabbed my face in disbelief.
I got up off that couch and slapped her right back. My mom flew backwards and by this time my dad had stepped in between us.
“JANELLE!” he screamed at me.
My mom was in the background screaming for me to get out and never come back. I ran out the house hysterical. I could not handle what had just happened. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I know what you’re thinking, but I seriously never meant to hit my mother. It’s like I turned into someone else for a brief second.
I walked about a half mile, all the way to Kevin’s house. When I got to his house it was around ten. I banged on his door hysterical. His mom answered the door slowly.
“Oh my God. Janelle, what’s wrong? Come in! Jesus, did you walk here?” she said pulling me in the house. Her Caribbean accent was always so strong.
“KEVIN!” she screamed for him.
“Yeah mom, what hap—” he stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
“Nelle! What’s wrong?” he came right over to me.
“Me and my mom got into a fight” I couldn’t control how upset I was and I doubt he even understood me.
“I hit her. I’m so sorry Kevin. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” I kept repeating to him. He hugged me so tight and I just remember crying my eyes out.
By eleven my dad started looking for me. He called my cousin Meeka, then he called Kevin’s house phone. He was relieved to find out I was with Kevin. He came over to Kevin’s house to get me and we all talked for an hour. Kevin’s family asked if I could stay with them but my dad said it would be wrong for my mom’s image. Yes, at a time like this, they were thinking about an “image”.
The ride back home was silent. I just cried. When I got in the house my mom was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. This is something she hadn’t done since she stepped into her role as pastor. I saw suitcases by the steps.
“Get your stuff, and get out!” she yelled at me. I couldn’t believe they were kicking me out while I was pregnant! The water works started again.
“Dad!” I yelled. “Say something!”
“Janelle. You need a break for a while. We spoke to Aunt Kelly and she said you can stay with her for the summer until we figure out what to do” he said calmly.
My dad started rambling about how I can drive or they’ll fly me out tomorrow.
I just stared at my dad. It hurt so bad that he was co-signing. My mom just rocked back and forth on the couch, trying to keep her anger in. I didn’t take my eyes off my dad.
Out of anger I left that night. I stopped by Kevin’s house and spent the night there. He stayed up with me while I cried all night. It was so hard saying goodbye to him even though we thought it was going to be just a summer. Kevin was just as hurt by it as I was. His parents tried calling my parents but their minds were set.
That happened almost three years ago and I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Now, I was supposed to put all that behind me and act like I cared about my mother even though she kicked me and my unborn child out the house? I didn’t know how this was going to play out and I really didn’t want to know.
I felt Cash moved next to me. He grabbed me closer to him like I was a teddy bear. I just sighed. I couldn’t blame him for being one of the few people who were still on my team. I embraced his hug and closed my eyes for what tomorrow had to bring.
To get your copy of When It Rains It Pours, visit:
http://www.amazon.com/When-It-Rains-P...When It Rains It Pours
When It Rains It Pours
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
I guess there will always be people who prey on your downfall. Personally, that never bothered me. I can’t pay attention to what people say anymore because at the end of the day, I have to answer to one person.
People have tried to place a label on me since high school with all their negative, petty, hurtful comments. She’s a slut, she’s a hoe, she’s a freak. Wait, did I just recite a Notorious B.I.G song? The point is: people need to realize; I, Janelle Andrews, am here to do one thing; live my life.
I sat in class of my predominately white university, bored as hell. Sometimes I regretted my decision to attend Kennesaw State University in Kennesaw, Georgia. Other times I was elated with my decision.
Kennesaw State was basically the only school I could attend that I knew I would stay out of trouble. Kennesaw is about 20 minutes outside of Atlanta, and ultimately 20 minutes away from anything fun. It’s an interesting story how I ended up in Georgia. I guess I should start from the beginning:
Originally, I’m from Philadelphia. I love my city with all of me, and while there’s nothing like home, Philadelphia broke me. After I got pregnant my last year of high school, my mom sent me to Atlanta to stay with my aunt, Kelly. My move to Atlanta was possibly one of the hardest times of my life.
It was a blessing in disguise that I ended up losing that baby. At first I was sad, but then I realized I wasn’t ready for a baby anyway. The rumor around North Philly remains: I got pregnant, had an abortion, and fled to Atlanta so I wouldn’t destroy my mother’s image (who, by the way, happens to be a pastor at North Philadelphia Baptist Ministry).
My mother inherited the church from her mother. My grandparents died very young, in a car crash. They were in their 50s when their lives were tragically cut short. My mom keeps newspapers of the horrific accident.
Out of respect for her parents, she kept the church in the family. At a young age, who wants to run a church? I mean I know she grew up in the church, but that’s a lot to handle for someone in their late 20s/early 30s. I could never. Okay, so back to me.
I was a handful in high school. My mom’s church congregation wasn’t very surprised when I popped up pregnant a month into the summer before my senior year. I really don’t know how people even found out. It spread like wildfire.
At first I tried hiding it from my mom. That was probably one of my dumbest ideas. I wasn’t really eating as healthy as I should during my “hiding it” stage of my pregnancy. Now, please do not misconstrue that with me trying to hurt my baby! The thing was; I was eating enough for just me. I wasn’t eating like I was eating for two. At that time I wasn’t fully grasping the concept that it was no longer just me. I started throwing up every morning and finally my mom suggested I visit a doctor.
I played along with my mother. I acted like I never knew I was pregnant. When the doctor told me I was, I just remember looking at my mom as she broke down. As soon as we got home, she told my dad. My dad was a really easygoing black man who was born and raised in the south. He moved to Philly for college, where he met my mother.
Of course my dad was mad when my mother told him about my pregnancy, but he was a firm believer of the phrase ‘you can’t cry over spilled milk’. He was my rock and he always stayed by my side. He told me we would get through it and even tried to get my mother to join our movement.
My mother wasn’t having that though. The rest of that summer she didn’t speak to me. She said I was an embarrassment, a whore, and careless. I was really stressed out during that time.
My boyfriend at the time and father of my unborn child, Kevin, really tried to help things but they just got worse and worse. He asked me to move in with him and his parents but my mom said that would look even worse. He was just trying to ease some of the visible tension in my house around that time.
My mother and I argued every day until she lost her mind one day and put her hands on me. Of course being pregnant and easily irritated, I slapped her right back. My bags were packed that same night and I was shipped off to Atlanta.
That night would haunt me for years. That night messed me up mentally. I wanted to be mad at my mother, but I was more hurt than anything. How could you just kick your child out? And the worst part of it was it didn’t even hurt her to do it.
The stress of my relationship with my mom, leaving my boyfriend, being a pregnant teen and being in a new place really took a toll on me. I miscarried in the beginning of my senior year of high school.
Kevin, the father of my child, was so mad at me. He actually thinks I lost the baby on purpose. He’s never said it, but he hints it any time we get anywhere near that discussion.
My mom actually tried to call me when she found out about the miscarriage but I refused to answer. When I needed her most she turned her back on me so why be so kind now?
When I moved to Atlanta with my Aunt Kelly, she showed me a different way to things. When I first moved, Aunt Kelly was managing one of the biggest singers in Atlanta; as well as smaller clients in the entertainment industry. She has a four-bedroom house for herself. She didn’t even have a dog. Must be nice.
Kelly always wanted children but with such a chaotic schedule, it was hard for her to really get to know a man who loved her for her. Once they found out how connected she was to the industry, how financially set she was, and how respected she was around Atlanta, they thought of ways to use her.
Kelly never seemed to be in a rush to start a family. One of the biggest lessons my aunt stressed was “you don’t have to play by society’s rules”. She stressed heavily that everyone makes mistakes and it’s what you do after the mistakes that count. She was really big on doing things her own way, and not what’s expected. So, it was no surprise she was pushing 30, and perfectly content with being a bachelorette.
My aunt was always looked at as the black sheep of the family because she chooses a career over having a family. My aunt never led the rest of the family to believe she had any interest in starting a family. She worked, worked, and worked some more. She visited us every holiday in Philly but always came alone.
Another thing I picked up on Kelly over the years is how she never seemed to be interested in the church. I think it was because all she does is work and never has time to think about anything else. My mom made very little mention of it, but I could see she was hurt by it. In a sense I respected my aunt so much for leaving the “church life”. There was something beautiful about leaving everything you know with hopes of success.
My aunt is relatively young. She is 29 and my mom 42. I am 20, going on 21, so it’s easier for me to relate to my aunt when it comes to taking advice.
Well, enough about my past. Let’s fast forward to the present. I still haven’t fixed my relationship with my mom and at this point I don’t care to. She left me when I needed her most. I just want to make it in life just so I can show her how insignificant she is. Just to show her that all the shit she has done to me doesn’t affect me. I plan on never speaking to her again, as long as I live.
But I do speak to my dad often. He is always trying to get me to speak to my mother but I tell him the same thing: when God is ready for us to get it together, he’ll let me know. Sometimes I’ll take flights back up to Philly to visit my cousins and him. It’s hard finding time to just see my dad because my mom is usually so close. The first time I visited him was five weeks after I lost the baby. I showed up to his job unannounced. He was so happy to see me.
That visit I stayed with my now-ex-boyfriend. When my dad asked was I coming by the house to see my mother, I let him know how I felt about my mother and to this very day; that is a conversation we both try to avoid.
When my mom found out I visited Philly without a phone call, visit or anything-she was livid. She called my aunt and told my aunt off for not letting her know I was coming. My mom and my aunt didn’t speak for a while. Sometimes she was petty like that.
Now here I am almost three years later, 20 years old, and two years into my business degree at Kennesaw State University. Every time I go back to Philly, my friends ask me the same damn question: why did I stay in Atlanta for college? They follow-up with the question: let alone a white school?
I guess my decision had a lot to do with high school in Philly. A lot of people mistook my mom being a pastor for me being a pushover, or soft or whatever the cool term is. I was always getting into arguments and altercations with girls who thought I tolerated disrespect. I got suspended twice in high school for fighting (well defending myself).
I feel like most of the black girls I went to high school with hated me just because of how I looked. I’m not trying to toot my horn but I’m a decent looking girl! Always have been! I’m about 5’ 7” tall and growing up was always told my body was “mature” for my age. My dad is black and my mom is half black, half Asian. I have a head full of curly hair and the skin tone of a Hispanic.
I got teased a lot in elementary school. It was mainly girls who made fun of my hair, which my mom tried putting into a ponytail most days, but it was more like a big afro with a random scrunchie. I am pretty sure I wore a ponytail 95% of my elementary career.
It was high school that took me for a spin. In high school I had about 4 female friends, but other than them, I didn’t really know one female who liked me. There were always rumors I was dealing with their sloppy ass boyfriends when in reality I had the same boyfriend for two years in high school. He just attended another school.
So back to what I was saying; the high school females were always trying to start a fight with me over the most stupid things. Just because I accidentally bumped them in the hall, stuff like that. Yes. They were that petty.
So when I had the choice not to put up with black females-I took advantage of it.
“Miss Andrews!” My professor called on me. He had caught me off guard so I responded with an attitude.
“Yesss?” I said dragging the “s” to show my annoyance.
“I asked you what is the meaning of ‘life’ in Shakespeare’s words?” he repeated.
“I’m sorry, I lost you.” I respectfully told him.
He was getting on my damn nerves. I know he was only calling on me because he knew I was daydreaming again. I had a habit of doing that in his boring class. I decided to pay attention the rest of class to spare myself from further embarrassment.
Finally he released us. As soon as I got out of class, my dad called me. I let it rang a few times as I tried to simultaneously hold my books and get my phone out of my bag.
“Hey baby girl,” my dad said less than enthusiastically.
“Hey, Pa. How’s it going?” I asked him.
“Your mom is in the hospital” was all he said. I stopped walking because the wind was messing with my hearing. I came to a complete stop and asked him to repeat himself.
“Your mom is in the hospital!” he said getting annoyed with me.
“Dad, don’t yell at me. I didn’t hear you,” I yelled back at him.
“Well can you hear me now?” he asked like one of those Verizon commercials. I thought about what he just said. What the hell did he want me to do if she was in the hospital? I ain’t no damn doctor.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked him like I really cared.
I’m not going to lie. I was to the point where I didn’t really have any care in my heart for my mother. Of course I didn’t want her to die or anything, but I just couldn’t get over the bullshit she put me through. Not yet anyway.
“She was having chest pains,” my dad continued. “She got checked in today and they’re just running a couple of tests on her.”
I was still silent. I wasn’t sure why my dad was even telling me this. I damn sure wasn’t about to pay her a visit. We hadn’t spoken in almost three years. I wasn’t ready to lay my feelings down. I needed a minute to get my shit together. You would think three years was enough, but it wasn’t. I had a lot of pain in my heart.
“I’m sending you a plane ticket—”
“No Pa, I-am-not comin’. I’m sorry but I can’t do that yet. I—”
“Ain’t no one playin’ with you girl. It’s enough of this crap now! I
gave you all the space you needed. Now your mom is sick so get your ass up here” he said and hung up.
That was the fourth time my dad ever took that tone with me. I guess he was just stressed about my mom being in the hospital. The last thing I needed was this bullshit around finals time. I took out my phone and did the first thing I always think to do when some unexpected, stressful shit comes up in my life: I called my ex-boyfriend Kevin.
Kevin and I had a very weird relationship. After I lost the baby, we were nowhere as close as we once were. I had known Kevin for 7 years. He was my first everything and I loved him so much. He was the first boy I kissed, first boy I cried on and the first one I “made love” to. I put “made love” in quotation marks because we were young and barely knew anything about making love.
Our relationship was definitely less than perfect but it was one of the best ones I had. We spoke once or twice a week after I lost the baby a couple of years ago. He said if we spoke too much we would get attached again. Of course in my head, Kevin knows best so I went along with it.
“Hey beautiful,” he said happy to hear from me.
“Kev, my mom is in the hospital” I told him as soon as I heard his voice. Kevin was really a good guy. Very easy to talk to.
I used to be a cheerleader at Northeast High School, and I met Kevin at a basketball game back in middle school. He was the starting shooting guard for Central High School for four years. Ever since he took my number in middle school, we clicked. At first we were close friends, then in high school we became more.
I loved Kevin because he was so smart, talented and family-oriented. His parents were both from Trinidad but he was born and raised here. He would give a woman life, because he was just that attractive. He has a brother who is about two years older than him who is equally as gorgeous.
Kevin went on to play basketball on a Temple University basketball scholarship.
When I first moved to Atlanta it was hard for us. We were used to seeing each other all the time and now we wouldn’t see each other at all. When I lost the baby we stopped talking for a while. In his head, I did it purposely so that I wouldn’t have to deal with all the stress of being pregnant at seventeen. I guess no one will truly know what that time in my life was like. After we got on good terms again, we vowed to never mention my miscarriage.
“So that means you’re coming up then?” he asked me.
“No, not exactly. I really don’t know if I’m ready to see her. I mean
I haven’t seen or spoke to her in three years. Isn’t it a little weird for me to show up just because she’s sick?” I asked him.
He sighed.
“That was always your problem. You are so damn stubborn. This is your mother. Who cares about how awkward it may be? God forbid you lose her. Then your last thoughts of her will be how you slapped your own mother. Come on Nells, you’re smarter than that!” he said with a little disappointment in his voice.
I don’t know why but it’s so easy for Kevin to get through to me. I guess it’s because he’s my best friend and a true friend would never steer you wrong.
“If I go up there to the hospital, will you come with me?” I asked him. Sometimes I can be such a baby.
“Yeah, sure but it has to be Friday or Saturday afternoon. Just call me when you get up here. Are you staying with me or you going to stay with your cousin?” he asked me.
I hadn’t exactly thought about that. Usually when I go up there I stay with my cousin Meeka. Meeka was the twin cousin everyone has. You know, the cousin that is around your age and you guys act like siblings even though you’re cousins? Well, that’s Meeka.
Meeka was more than a bad influence. She taught me how to smoke, drink, she persuaded me to start having sex and everything else I wasn’t suppose to be doing when I was younger.
She was an only child, just like me, and getting into trouble seemed to be our specialty. She got kicked out of the house at 16 and was forced to move with her then-20-year-old boyfriend. She took a job answering phones at a chiropractor a few months after she got kicked out. Then she dropped out of school.
Since then, my cousin has been doing well for herself. She moved out and got herself a car and a new boyfriend. I usually stay with her every time I go to Philly. Only because I know my mom doesn’t really care for her and she would never show up to where Meeka lives because of the solemn fact she doesn’t know where she lives.
“I mean if I have to. I rather stay with you but if that’s going to be a problem” I said drifting my sentence.
“Girl you know you can stay here. Just hit me up with the details and let me know when you’re flying in. You can stay with me.”
“Okay, thanks boo. Let me get going. I have to run some errands and take care of everything before I call my dad back and have him get the ticket and everything. I love you.”
“Love you too Nells, see ya soon” he said, and then hung up.
I had so much to do. My mom being sick was really going to fuck everything up. I had to E-Mail all my teachers for my Friday classes and let them know why I wouldn’t be in class. Then I had to make up a lie to tell my current boyfriend, because there was no way he was going to be okay with me staying with Kevin. Or even seeing him for that matter. He just didn’t understand our friendship. After that, I had to coordinate how to get to the airport because my auntie was out of town for two weeks. She’s on a business trip in California. Then after I did all that, I had to call my dad back to actually buy the ticket.
Everything was telling me not to go to Philly. It was so inconvenient for me. But I knew if I didn’t I would hear it from everyone.
Teach me how to love. Show me the way to surrender my heart. Girl I’m so lost. Teach me how to love. How I can— my Musiq Soulchild ringtone sang to me. I love that song. It will never get old to me. That was the ringtone I gave my current boyfriend, Cash, because that’s exactly how I felt our relationship was. It was a lesson about how to make two people who have trouble loving, love each other.
“Ay, Shawty” he said as soon as I answered the phone.
“Hey what’s up Michael?” I said.
“What I told you about callin’ me Michael? My name is Cash. I’m tired of tellin’ you that shit!” he said.
Sometimes “Cash” is a handful. Cash’s real name was Michael Lumpkin III. He was a local drug dealer and made more than enough to support me and him. He lived in a fairly nice apartment and he drove an all black new Dodge Charger. I didn’t love Cash but I definitely needed him in my life. He called me everyday, he listened to all my bullshit and he provided me financially.
When I say provided financially, money was not an issue with Cash. He
was not cheap. I never asked for anything, but I know if it ever came down to it, it wouldn’t be an issue. In return, all I really had to do was have sex with him. That’s really his only, request.
I cared about him but not the way I cared about Kevin. The only reason I kept Cash in my life was because I was so afraid of being alone. Do not sit there and judge me like I’m the only one with this issue. Chronic loneliness is an epidemic.
Cash didn’t treat me bad but he didn’t treat me anything close to good. He is very rude to me and he’s quite possessive. In my head, he will eventually change.
“Sorry, I’m glad you called though. My dad just told me my mom is in the hospital and I need to go see her this weekend,” I said changing the topic.
“Your mother that you haven’t spoken to in like five years?” he said sarcastically.
“Well being that I only have one mother that’s probably the same mother.”
He was beginning to annoy with his smart-ass mouth. We get into it a lot over the way he talks to me.
“Yeah, well I just find it a lil’ weird that you talk all that shit
‘bout her but now you “care about her” and have to flee to Philly? Anyway, did you want me to come up there with you?” he asked me.
“No? I mean it’s already awkward enough for just me. I don’t need to bring you along” I told him. What does he mean did I want him to come? I mean, did I invite him or something?
“When you leavin’ and for how long?” he asked me.
“That’s the next thing I wanted to ask you. Do you think you can give me a ride to the airport tomorrow morning? The earlier I leave, the faster I can get back.”
“Yeah, that’s straight. You spendin’ the night, tonight?”
“Yeah, sure” I said unenthusiastically.
“Okay, call me when you’re on your way” he said and then hung up.
I didn’t even get to say “okay” or “bye”. Cash was so rude sometimes. I reached the parking deck and got inside my 2008 Nissan Maxima. I drove this car all the way from Philly when my mom kicked me out. It was basically the only thing they let me keep. That was only because my dad had given it to me as a birthday/graduation gift right before that summer everything went down.
I dialed my aunt’s number and put it on speakerphone as I drove home. As usual, I got her answering machine.
BEEP.
“Hey Auntie, my dad called me today. He called to tell me that mom is in the hospital because she’s having chest or heart issues or something. They’re running a couple of tests on her. My dad wants me to come see her so I will probably be leaving tomorrow morning or afternoon. I don’t think I’m ready but we will see how this goes. Call me back when you get this message. Love ya.”
When I arrived at the house I emailed all my teachers about missing their Friday classes. I always felt like I needed to stay on top of school. That seemed to be the only thing that I could do right. My mom and dad didn’t come to my high school graduation. The only ones that came were my aunt and Cash. I told my dad I didn’t want my mom coming. He told me if we all couldn’t attend as a family then he wasn’t coming either. My dad is passive about a lot, except family values. He was a tad more firm in that sense. He’s always been a tough love kind of guy. So I can only respect it.
I called my dad back and let him know that he should book my plane ticket for the morning. He was very excited that I had finally decided to put my troubles behind me and finally go see my mom. He booked the flight for Friday at noon. I packed all my shit and headed over to Cash’s later that night.
I knocked on the door impatiently. I don’t care what anyone says but it gets just as cold in the south during the winter as it does in Philly. Cold is cold wherever you live, and it was definitely cold.
“Damn quit bangin’ on the door so hard” he swung open the door.
“You knew I was coming! Why didn’t you leave it unlocked? It’s cold
out here!”
“Now you know I can’t leave my door unlocked. Just get inside” he said as he grabbed my suitcase and my knapsack off the stoop.
I went in and plopped on his couch. He went upstairs and dropped my
stuff off in his room. He came back down the stairs and sat down next to me on the couch. He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.
“So what time is your flight?”
“It’s at noon but I want to get there at like ten so I don’t have to stress about waiting on a line to get checked in and everything.”
“Aiight. That’s coo. So you finally ready to see your mom, huh?”
“Not really. I don’t even want to talk about it. I just feel like my dad is forcing me into doing something that he knows I don’t want to do.”
“Well I’m sure he’s not doin’ it to annoy you. He’s probably just sick of your bullshit,” he said keeping his eye on the television.
“MY bullshit? She made me lose my baby and it’s MY bullshit? Everyone has a breaking point. Yes, every day I regret putting my hands on my mother but there’s only so much a person can take. She was breaking me down and that’s the only way I knew to react. I’m tired of everyone acting like our relationship is my fault. It’s not! Yes, I added to it but it’s not MY bullshit.”
“Janelle, I don’t care what your mom does to you- you don’t put your hands on her” he said.
I really just wanted to stop talking about it. No one could ever know what I was going through at that time unless they were me.
“I just think you’re a spoiled ass brat who can’t admit you fucked up,” he said.
I got up and walked to the kitchen. I needed to get away from him for a minute.
“Cash, I can’t do this with you tonight,” I said walking back to the living room. “I think I’m going to head home. I’m too stressed to argue with you tonight.”
I started heading upstairs to get my stuff. I heard him following me up the steps.
“I’m not tryin’ to argue wit’ ya. But if you want to go, you can go” he said.
I just looked at him. Sometimes I wondered why I stayed with him.
“Cash, please? Just please cut me some slack. I wanted to spend my last day in Atlanta, before I go, with you. Can we just make it a good night?” I pleaded with him.
He kissed my neck. That was one of his weak “foreplay” methods. Then he starts licking all over me like a dog. He was so predictable when it came to sex. Don’t get me wrong, Cash is beyond attractive. He’s about 5’ 10” or 5’ 11” with light brown skin. He has a head full of curly hair and the sexist lips you’ll probably ever see. But when it came to sex, he was the most uncoordinated person you’ll probably ever meet.
About ten minutes later, I laid there just thinking about all the shit my mom put me through while Cash slept like a baby. It seemed like just yesterday she would walk in my room and say “you need to go out there and find a job to support your child because you know once you get fat and ugly he’s going to leave you to raise that baby by yourself”. I would just sit there and cry all day.
On the day we got into our altercation, I was sitting on the couch eating some caramel glazed, chocolate popcorn I picked up on the way home from Kevin’s house. Her and my dad walked in from a weekday church service. I had a really bad headache that day that just wouldn’t budge. My dad went to the kitchen and my mom walked over to the television and cut it off like I wasn’t sitting there.
“You’re just going to sit in front of the television all nine months?”
“Ma, please? Not today. I have a really bad headache, I’m not feeling well” I told her.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you laid on your back,” she snapped back.
“Ma please, just leave me alone” I said mellow.
By that point she could see she was already getting to me so she
continued.
“Is the truth not what you want to hear? You don’t like the sound of you and your bastard child being a—.”
“Mom, shut the fuck up!” I screamed at her.
By this time my dad was making his way back into the living room to see what was going on. My mom leapt over to the couch and slapped the shit out of me. I grabbed my face in disbelief.
I got up off that couch and slapped her right back. My mom flew backwards and by this time my dad had stepped in between us.
“JANELLE!” he screamed at me.
My mom was in the background screaming for me to get out and never come back. I ran out the house hysterical. I could not handle what had just happened. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I know what you’re thinking, but I seriously never meant to hit my mother. It’s like I turned into someone else for a brief second.
I walked about a half mile, all the way to Kevin’s house. When I got to his house it was around ten. I banged on his door hysterical. His mom answered the door slowly.
“Oh my God. Janelle, what’s wrong? Come in! Jesus, did you walk here?” she said pulling me in the house. Her Caribbean accent was always so strong.
“KEVIN!” she screamed for him.
“Yeah mom, what hap—” he stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
“Nelle! What’s wrong?” he came right over to me.
“Me and my mom got into a fight” I couldn’t control how upset I was and I doubt he even understood me.
“I hit her. I’m so sorry Kevin. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” I kept repeating to him. He hugged me so tight and I just remember crying my eyes out.
By eleven my dad started looking for me. He called my cousin Meeka, then he called Kevin’s house phone. He was relieved to find out I was with Kevin. He came over to Kevin’s house to get me and we all talked for an hour. Kevin’s family asked if I could stay with them but my dad said it would be wrong for my mom’s image. Yes, at a time like this, they were thinking about an “image”.
The ride back home was silent. I just cried. When I got in the house my mom was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. This is something she hadn’t done since she stepped into her role as pastor. I saw suitcases by the steps.
“Get your stuff, and get out!” she yelled at me. I couldn’t believe they were kicking me out while I was pregnant! The water works started again.
“Dad!” I yelled. “Say something!”
“Janelle. You need a break for a while. We spoke to Aunt Kelly and she said you can stay with her for the summer until we figure out what to do” he said calmly.
My dad started rambling about how I can drive or they’ll fly me out tomorrow.
I just stared at my dad. It hurt so bad that he was co-signing. My mom just rocked back and forth on the couch, trying to keep her anger in. I didn’t take my eyes off my dad.
Out of anger I left that night. I stopped by Kevin’s house and spent the night there. He stayed up with me while I cried all night. It was so hard saying goodbye to him even though we thought it was going to be just a summer. Kevin was just as hurt by it as I was. His parents tried calling my parents but their minds were set.
That happened almost three years ago and I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Now, I was supposed to put all that behind me and act like I cared about my mother even though she kicked me and my unborn child out the house? I didn’t know how this was going to play out and I really didn’t want to know.
I felt Cash moved next to me. He grabbed me closer to him like I was a teddy bear. I just sighed. I couldn’t blame him for being one of the few people who were still on my team. I embraced his hug and closed my eyes for what tomorrow had to bring.
To get your copy of When It Rains It Pours, visit:
http://www.amazon.com/When-It-Rains-P...When It Rains It Pours
March 19, 2014
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