If she didn’t, he was going to do it for her. Janelle couldn’t even fix her lips to say, ‘I’m happy for you or Congratulations.’ She could’ve even asked what the song was called. Instead, she jumped right into being negative, and Orielle was tired of her treating her like she wasn’t anything.
“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Orielle asked.
There was a pause before Janelle said, “What do you mean? I am glad that the radio is playing your music.”
“No, Mama. I said happy for me! Not what other people are doing for me that makes you happy. That’s not the same.”
“Orielle.” Janelle sighed. “Here you go getting worked up for no reason. It’s all the same as long as you're still singing, right?”
Najee had heard enough. Snatching the phone out of her lap, he hung up in Janelle’s face. He couldn’t go another minute of hearing her play clueless to her daughter’s feelings. Fuck that.
“The next time she calls, don’t answer,” he said, with a grit in his tone that made her eyes lift from her lap to his face.
She was quiet for a second as her emotions stumbled over one another in her chest. It tightened with the type of anxiety she got as a kid. Closing her eyes, Orielle took some deep breaths.
“I just don’t get it,” she said, voice cracking. “You’d think with everything she missed out on in my life, she’d make an effort toget to know me. She doesn’t even pretend to act like she cares about me. She doesn’t even like me. What did I do to her?”
Orielle didn’t want to cry in front of him, but she couldn’t keep her tears in. She was aching. The love she wanted to receive would never come, and that realization stung the most. She wiped the tears from her cheek, staring at him for an answer. She wasn’t sure if she wanted one, but the question burned her up inside.
Najee’s jaw flexed. He wanted to dial Janelle back and talk bad to her, but it was obvious she wouldn’t care. She’d only act even more clueless, and that would only piss him off more.
“You want my advice, or for me to just make you feel better?”
He could go about it either way. As an outsider looking in, he assessed the situation from all the angles he’d been privy to.
“Don’t feel obligated to?—”
“But I am,” he said, interrupting whatever she was about to say. “That’s why you asked me, right?”
Vulnerably, Orielle nodded.
“A’ight. My two cents first. I’m not saying to overlook what she’s not doing but give her grace. You said she didn’t fully start trying to parent until you were grown, and to me, it seems like she’s still trying to figure it out. She doesn’t know what being a parent is or what it even looks like, baby.”
Orielle sniffled, and he continued.
“Now, on the other hand, she’s grown and can comprehend unless the liquor destroyed her brain cells, which I doubt. If you’ve told her how you feel and nothing changes, then you have every right to keep your distance and enforce strict boundaries. If a mothafucka has no remorse for making you feel unloved, they don’t deserve your presence. Stop picking up the phone for them and reaching out. Your heart is too pure for anyone to keep hurting you, and I’m not gon’ sit back and let them either.”
Those stubborn tears of hers broke free again, sliding freely down her face. Orielle couldn’t contain them this time, and she didn’t try to. He’d given her the safest space to let her guard down, and Orielle threw that bitch to the ground. Bottling things up was detrimental to her nervous system, but it was safe with Najee. He had his own little safety net for her. Orielle didn’t put up a fight when he pulled her into his lap, cradling her as she poured her heart out.
“I know that shit hurts, baby. Get all them tears out. It’s going to be okay,” he reassured so lovingly, while rubbing her back.
She bawled into his chest. No man, not even the one who helped create her, had given her this much affection. Right there in Najee’s lap, she realized the cause of her heartache wasn’t solely because of Janelle. Orielle had never been seen. She’d never been heard this way; never been given the space to just be and not shrink. She’d never been chosen.
Not by her parents.
Not by Bobby.
Not by the record labels.
Not even by the cheerleading coach when she was in fifth grade.
But more importantly, and for so long, she hadn’t chosen herself.
There had to be a time in her life where no one mattered but her. She could still care, but the problem was caring more than anyone else. The scales hadn’t been balancing. Her cup had been depleted while she made sure others were overflowing. Putting herself last was why she felt like she had been behind in life for so long. Suddenly, it all clicked.
Najee said nothing as she got it all out. His wet tank top clung to his chest when she finally lifted her head. Reaching for the bottle of water on the table, he grabbed it, twisted the top, andhanded it to her. Orielle drank it down before handing him the empty plastic.
“Whew,” she breathed heavily. “I’m okay now. I needed that.”
