Page 27 of Tarek

“You aren’t going to be like me. It will hurt, you will get over it. We are going to break this cycle.” What cycle is she talking about?

I nod as tears begin to run down my face. “Yes, Ma.”

“I have a check here from Mr. Jacobs.” She pulls the check out of her bra. Puts it out to me.

I pull away from my mom. “Why are you taking money from Ilyana’s dad?”

“It doesn’t matter why child.” She tugs my hand and places it in my palm.

I open the crumpled paper only to see six figures staring back at me.

“MOM! This is too much money. I can’t.”

She rubs her hands together and says softly. “You will keep every damn cent.”

“I will go to Mr. Jacobs to carry this check back.” I begin to roll to the side to get off the bed.

“He will not take it,” she says calmly as she gazes down at her nails.

“Why not, Mom?”

Her shoulders tense. “You will take that money and pay for med school and take care of my grandchild.”

“Why will Mr. Jacobs refuse the money Ma?” I can feel it. The change in the air, the humidity, the heaviness.

“You never wondered why Mr. Jacobs and his wife treated you so well child? The child of their housekeeper?” Her eyes water as her shoulders drop.

I look at her head wrapped in a checkered white and blue cloth. In a different lifetime I believe my mother was a queen, royal and elegant.

“They treated me well because they are nice people.” Denial is the best form of delusion.

My mother throws her head back and laughed. “Child nothing nice about those people especially Mrs. Jacobs and her daughter.”

I think of the expensive private schools, the ballet classes, everything Ilyana did, I was able to do. Then the thought dawns on me…

I shake my head. “No, Mr. Jacobs is not my….”

Inhaling, my mother dusts her skirt off. “Yes. Now take the money, leave this cursed place and break this cycle.

“He never told me.” I think of all the times Mr. Jacobs spoke to me. Always sweet. He asked about school. He was pleased with my grades. Always commending me, taking keen interest. He just never wanted to acknowledge me as his.

The sad smile stays on my mom’s face, all this time staying at his housekeeper. Under the roof of his wife…

“Why did you stay?”

“Because I ran away from the Caribbean to come to America for a better life. I had nothing, no college degree, just my primary school education. But I could cook and clean so, I got a job, and the rest was history. I have nothing to go back to.” She shrugs like her story meant little. Like she accepted everything in her life.

I have so many questions to ask her, but instead I hug her and pull her tightly against me.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” I hiccup in her neck as I begin to cry.

“Child, I love you. Now go to Charleswood. Don’t come back here.”

I pull away. “What about you? You can come with me.”

She smiles sadly as she wipes away my tears. “My place is here. I will come to visit. But Aunty Baby will take care of you and my grandbaby.”

I nod, and the tears fall down my face faster. “I will become a doctor, just for you ma.”

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