Page 9 of I Love to Hate You
My eyes bulge. “Whoa. Not ED.”
“Yeah,” Mom says with a nonchalant shrug, as if she’s not talking about someone’s limp penis. “I guess old Earl has been having a hard time getting it up, and he Googled the symptoms of erectile dysfunction to see if he had it. Now, he’s mad because he keeps getting ads on Facebook and Instagram about it. He thinks the government is spying on him and laughing at his limpness. It’s a mess.”
I try to fight away my laughter, but the need to let it out is too strong. It bursts out of me and forces Mom to laugh with me.
“Well, it’s nice to hear that they’re still … active,” I say, still smiling.
Mom lifts her legs and brings them into my lap. I immediately see that her feet are swollen, and the skin on her legs beneath her black pajama pants is dry and red. It’s hard to tell if the redness is from scratching or just her skin having another rash, but I know from the inflammation that she’s in pain. She’s joking with me, but her skin hurts, and I can't imagine going through what she's enduring.
“That they are,” she says, ignoring her obvious discomfort. “But what about you? You beingactivewith anybody? I’m sure you're really busy in that bachelor pad.”
“Bachelor pad? Yeah, right. Honestly, I haven't even thought about anything like that. My focus has been on graduating and making you proud.”
“Kendrick, you make me proud every single day, so don’t worry yourself about that,” Mom says, reaching down to rub the backside of my hand. The small TV flashes a bright white screen, showcasing the beautiful smile on her face. Mom’s short, black hair has gotten thinner, but the smile on her lips is still just as full. “I don't want you to get so caught up in school that you don't think about being happy. Go out there and find yourself a nice young lady to date and smile with. I’m sure going to Temple gives you a lot more to choose from than the fast ass girls around here.”
“I guess so,” I reply, shrugging.
“You guess so,” Mom mocks with rolling eyes. “Well, it’d be nice to meet a girlfriend of yours someday. I won't be here forever, you know?”
Her words somehow cast a shadow on the already dark living room. The thought of my mother no longer being here sends a pain up my spine that threatens to fold me in half. I have to shake my head just to remove the image.
“Yeah, well if I ever find someone special enough to meet you, I’ll be sure to bring her by. However, that has never happened, and I'm in no rush. Right now, I just need to get my degree and land a job. Once I do that I’ll loosen up a bit, but getting a degree doesn't mean I’ve made it yet. I have a lot of work to do to make sure you didn't send me to college for nothing. I’m just focused right now, Ma.”
Mom squeezes my hand as she smiles. “My baby boy. I know life has never been easy on you. Your father left when you were only ten years old, and you’ve seen a lot of things no one should ever see. I know it’s the reason you have that hair-trigger temper of yours, but you’ve persevered through so much already. I just want you to be happy, Kendrick. I don't want you missing out on life because you're trying so hard to do this for me. I want you to do it for yourself. Find happiness in it. Find peace. Life is too short to bury your head in the sand, baby. You have to live. You understand?”
The TV flashes bright again, and I see that my mother’s neck is swollen and she has beads of sweat on her forehead. She’s going through it just to sit here and talk to me, and I realize the real reason all of the lights are out. She didn't want me to see her struggling, and it breaks my heart.
I know she wants me to be happy, but when I look at her, all I see is the woman who sacrificed so much for me to get to where I am. My abusive, piece of shit father was too much of a coward to stick around to help his son find success, so Viola Kennedy had to become both my father and mother, and make a way when there wasn’t one. I’ve been dating on and off since I started at Temple, but nothing and no one will pull me off the path my mom forged for me, and no one has ever been special enough to meet her.
“I understand what you're saying, Ma,” I answer. “I hear you.”
“Good,” she says, smiling proudly. “Now do your mama a favor and massage my feet. I haven't been standing much, but they’ve been killing me all day.”
I press my lips into a thin line as I begin to rub Mom’s swollen feet. “I got you, Ma,” I reply, and I spend the next hour comforting her until we both fall asleep on the couch.
Eight
~ KENDRICK~
“Ugh, why are there so many people here?” I whisper to myself as I walk into Temple U following my three-day suspension. The time actually went by quickly, and now that I'm back, I suddenly miss being away from the crowds. Fridays are usually quieter, with less annoying people buzzing around like insects in my ear while I try to walk to class, but the halls are filled to the brim as students roam the hall, going from room to room for today’s career fair.
I had forgotten the fair was even happening today, otherwise, I would’ve stayed home and gotten my weekend started early. But I’m here now, and I’ve already gotten a glare from one of the professors who saw me enter the building, so to avoid drama, I’m going to participate. Plus, I need to know the types of people and assignments I can expect in my chosen career, so today has a forecast of partly beneficial with a high chance of annoyance.
When I walk into the classroom designated for people getting degrees in marketing and advertising, I’m surprised by how many people are inside. There’s plenty of diversity in the group of about fifteen seniors, with almost an even number of men and women, and I’m happy to see that I’m not the only one with darker skin. Regardless of what some people say, representation matters, and when you're a person of color, nothing is more off-putting than being the only one in the room.
I find comfort in the different cultures represented, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't like people. No matter how hard I try, people will always get on my nerves, and I can't brush off the feeling of dread I have when I step into the class and go to the seat in the far corner. My motivation to do this is my mother, but my heart isn't really in it. My love isn’t attached to it. I’m just going through the motions to get my degree and get a job that pays well. So my mood is sour when I sit down and watch the room come to order around me. Everyone takes their seat, and the entire mob watches the stick figure of a man at the front as he begins to address us with a warm, fake smile on his thin face. He’s dressed for work, with navy blue slacks and a white Polo shirt, and the second he speaks, everyone gives him their undivided attention.
“Good morning, everyone,” he begins, waving. “My name is Daniel Whitlock, but you can just call me Dan, and I’m a marketing manager at Unwound Marketing in our great city of Philadelphia. I volunteered to come down here for the career fair because I love getting to meet new people who are interested in what I do. I’ve been in marketing for ten years now, and it’s my pleasure to meet you all. I’m actually really interested in hearing what made you all decide to get into marketing and advertising. So, I’m going to choose a few of you and have you fill us in on why you thought this career path would be good for you. How about you? Why’d you choose to pursue this career?”
The guy up front chooses a petite pixie girl with blonde hair in the front row, who wiggles with excitement when she’s chosen. Even from behind her, I can tell she’s thrilled to be here and even more ecstatic about being chosen to speak in front of everyone. She’s as bubbly as they come, and exactly the kind of person I hate.
“Hi, my name is Makenzie Willows,” she starts in a perky, high-pitched voice that matches how I thought she’d sound. “And I chose marketing and advertising because I love being creative and deciding things, and thinking of new ways to accomplish goals. I’m goal-driven, actually, and nothing makes me happier than sitting down and focusing on a single, difficult task. I’m so excited to get started.”
If I rolled my eyes any further I’d be able to see my brain.
“Wow, thank you, Mackenzie,” Dan replies, matching her energy. “That was great, and it’s really nice to meet you. How about you, sir?”
Dan points to a guy with shaggy blonde hair protruding from beneath a black hat, who’s slumped in his chair like he couldn't care less about being here. He straightens himself up a little to answer the question, but still gives off “I don't give a fuck” vibes.
