Page 6 of Mahogany 1

Sparkle was only four and already practically addicted to her devices just like her siblings. For the most part, I didn’t give a damn. Had too much going on to, to be real. Fuck it. I wasn’t one of those parents that monitored screen time neither. Sue me. Shit, I was grateful for technology and the little relief it gave me. But there were two places I didn’t allow their devices and that was at the dinner table and in the bathroom. Other than that, they could rock how they wanted to rock.

As a mother of four, with a business and a worrisome ass husband, I did the best I could. I was pulled into too many directions to pretend I even wanted to be ‘super mom’. I ended up being a better mother than I thought I would be. And forme... baby, that was good enough. I had absolutely no desire to fit into that picture perfect narrative that was often painted on social media. My four were fed, smartenough, and very well taken care of.

“Ma! Have you seen my keys?” Aubry, my seventeen-year-old, shouted, as she jogged up the stairs.

“If you would have hung them on the key-holder like I told?—”

“I did?—”

We shouted back and forth. Aubry and I going back and forth was nothing new neither. I had her at the age of fifteen. So sometimes it felt like we were sisters instead of mother and daughter. I rarely ever had to step into true mommy mode with her. She was very respectful. But I’d be lying if I said she didn’t have the attitude of the typical teenaged girl. She was sassy just like I was at her age. However, we were completely different people. I made sure of that. I raised her with a loosened leash. I raised all four of them that way. Because I was sheltered and had that overbearing momma that made me rebel, I made sure I was the opposite.

“No, you didn’t. You told Sparkle to—” Honesty butted in, walking up behind me, smelling like Dior J’adore.

“Shut up, Honesty,” Aubry snapped, sucking her teeth with a frown. “Why would I tell Sparkle to?—”

“You shut up! And you did! I heard you!”

“Uh huh! You did! I got in the chair and hung them up!” Sparkle shouted, emerging from the bathroom, drying her hands on paper towel.

They argued like crazy. Hell, Sparkle had a little conflict around the house more often than not, too. Sometimes it drove me crazy, other times, I got a kick out of it. But I always made sure to tell them they had to listen to their big sister. Did they listen? Ehhh… not really. Did I care? Ehhh… not really. They did, however, listen when it counted and that was all that mattered to me.

Aubry frowned at Sparkle. “Girl…what? Y’all love to lie! I did not?—"

“They love to what?” I asked, checking her, with raised brows.

Aubry tossed her head back a little with annoyance. “Cap, ma. They love to cap.”

I eyed her up and down. “Oh okay.”

They weren’t allowed to say the word lie. Don’t ask me why. I truly did not know. What I did know was that growing up, I couldn’t say the word neither. And because that was what I grew up on, I passed it down to my kids. To me, since I couldn’t say it growing up, lie sounded like a curse word coming from kids.

“The keys are on the island,” intercepted Duke, my husband, walking up the stairs.

He stood in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I looked up at him with a sigh. “Daddy saves the day.”

He loved to come in fixing shit right in the middle of conflict. I often wondered if he sat around waiting, listening, just so he could come in and be the savior.

Duke and I were… we were okay, I guess. Trying. Pushing past the past. At least that’s what I was doing. Like most men in America—no, in the world—he cheated a lot. Had everything he needed at home but went out and cheated on me. To my knowledge, there were five. Because I wasn’t naïve, I knew there had to be more. I should have left, right? Would have if the circumstances were different. We met young—veryyoung. Life moved fast for us. One minute he was asking me to be his girlfriend, the next, we were finding out I was pregnant. No exaggeration. Eighteen years later, we were grown ass adults, with four children, careers, and problems bigger than the both of us. Problems I kept sweeping under the rug because they were too…ugly… to face. The gravity of the damage they’d caused was at least.

Looking back always pissed me off. I had a ton of regret and anger towards the younger version of myself. But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go back and change anything. So, I stayed. For a long time, I left karma up to God. Did the whole,good girl, he’ll get his one-day thing. Until eventually, I said God was taking too long and decided to do something other than cry about it. Because I did what I did, I was content. Until I wasn’t. But I was trying not to let the past force me to make a permanent decision.

I loved him, but I hated him too. No, I didn’treallyhate him. Granny used to say ‘hate is a strong word. Watch it!’. So, no... I didn’thatehim. I couldn’t. But I did resent him. Somedays the scales were insanely imbalanced. Loved him so much that the resentment seemed to dissipate. But then, on the days that, that resentment would slither its way back into my heart, it would grow. Magnifying. Suffocatingly. And I would resent him so much that sometimes, resentment felt painstakingly close to hate. Didn’t hate him though. Hated what he did to me. Hated what he did to us. Hated the seeds he planted that made resentment grow where only love should have bloomed.

But he was Duke, and I was Mahogany, and those two names just went together. I couldn’t leave. Couldn’t cheat. Not anymore, I couldn’t. He was trying. Had been for about two years. And because that was all I’d ever wanted him to do, I stopped. Figured I’d try to. He was the end all be all for me.

“Saving the day as usual,” he whispered against the side of my neck before kissing me there. “They almost ready?” He asked, referring to Sparkle and Honesty. The other two got themselves together just fine without me.

I simply locked eyes with him and lightly tilted my head to the side as to say, ‘what the fuck you think, nigga?’. He looked away from me and put his eyes on Honesty.

I was no Stepford wife. Never had been. Never would be. He didn’t want me to be. Even if he did, he’d still get what he got because let’s be honest… he didn’t deserve a Stepford wife.

“Where is the hair stuff basket?” He asked, taking the hint. I needed help. He could handle a couple of ponytails and edges with ease. Duke had been doing hair since Aubry was a baby.

“The den,” I told him, as I eyed Aubry, on her way to the kitchen for keys I’d been thinking about hiding from her for a couple of weeks. She drove all of us crazy, on a daily, looking for keys she should’ve been more responsible with.

“I got it. Finish relaxing, momma,” Duke stated with a wink. “Come on, Cupcake. I’m layin’ that hair today,” Duke said to Sparkle, interrupting the eye rolling match she was having with Aubry.

“Seriously dad?”

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