The Makeover Read online

  “Okay! Well, thanks for your help. You’re right. I do need to be careful. My mother is expecting me. See y’all later. Bye!” Phoenix’s smile was forced as she waved and hurried away.

  When she reached the elevator she gasped and drew huge breaths. She did not need her mother to see her in tears. “I just can’t believe that I look so bad that people got to lecture me right on the street.”

  When she reached her mother’s apartment on the seventeenth floor in the old public housing building, she paused to pull out her hand mirror. Her hair was tied with a scarf since it had not been done in over a month. Her eyes were swollen and red. Her skin was shiny with sweat. And although she had showered, she was wondering if her mother would be able to tell she had been drinking so early in the morning.

  Before she could ring the bell, the door flew open. Her mother stood there with her eyebrows raised. “Well? Why you stand in the hallway like this? Come inside.”

  “What, Ma? You were standing at the door waiting for me, or something?” Phoenix asked as she swept past her mother to slump on the armchair without her usual kiss of greeting. She didn’t want to sit next to her mother on the couch.

  Her mother said nothing at first, just stood there, wrinkling her nose.

  Phoenix slowly took her sunglasses off, blinked, and regarded Magalie Jean-Baptiste. “What, Ma? Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “You look horrible, that’s why! And you smell…funny. Not like you haven’t bathed, but like…you’ve been drinking. Like it is coming out of your skin. Have you been drinking?”

  Sheepishly, Phoenix looked away. “Last night, I had a couple of drinks. But I showered this morning, so I am amazed that you can smell it.”

  “Listen, you don’t smell like someone who had a couple of drinks the night before, but like someone who has been drinking a lot over the past few days. You smell sour.”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your imagination, Ma. Can we move past this, please? You summoned me here, and I am here. What did you want to talk about?” Phoenix struggled not to suck her teeth, clench them, or even roll her eyes.

  Magalie went into her kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She handed it to Phoenix and snapped, “Drink!”

  She stood in front of Phoenix with hands on her hips until Phoenix downed half the glass. Only then, did she sit on the couch and glare at her daughter for several minutes.

  Phoenix finished her water and waited.

  Magalie crossed her arms. “I want to know what you are doing. You haven’t been around for weeks, you tell me you broke off the wedding—”

  “It’s called off, Ma! Called off. Why can’t you get these sayings after living here in this country for over thirty-five years?”

  “Okay,” Magalie pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, “Called off the wedding. But why do they say called off? It does not make sense. Maybe turned off the wedding? Or put off? But you can’t call off something. How do they expect us immigrants to learn English when it’s so difficult?”

  “Ma, look, never mind, alright? Your English is fine. You speak better than some folks that have never left this country, let alone someone who is learning it as a third language. But you didn’t call me to discuss that.”

  “No. I want you to tell me what is going on. And I mean the truth. You are my daughter and I want to know the truth.”

  When Phoenix sighed in protest, Magalie held up a hand and said, “Now.”

  Phoenix’s stomach clenched. She knew what her mother would say, same as she always said. She also knew what her mother would tell her to do and why she would tell her to do it. She looked around the spacious, but cluttered, three-bedroom apartment. “Where’s Grandmere? Where’s Charles?”

  “Your brother is with his girlfriend. Your grandmother is with your uncle in Brooklyn.”

  “Oh, okay.” Phoenix continued to look at the wall unit, the pink, flowery sofa, the old tube television, the china cabinet, the dining table, the framed pictures on the wall.

  Magalie’s nose wrinkled. “You look horrible. You look like you lost some weight, but your stomach is sticking out of your shirt.”

  Phoenix bit her lip hard. Not now, Ma. Not now.

  “Okay, Fe-fe. You are looking around the place like you have not been here before. You lived here twenty-two years! Nothing has changed. Now stop wasting time and tell me what is going on!”

  Phoenix stared at her mother. Although her mother’s long, raven hair was now lined with gray; Phoenix could have been her twin. Magalie was shorter, standing at five-one to Phoenix’s five-six. But Phoenix had inherited her mother’s molasses-colored skin, heavy upper-body and slender legs and hips. Her mother’s skin was blemish free, but suffered from dark circles under the eyes from years of working overnight shifts as a Home Health Aide and then a Nurse’s Aid at a nearby adult home. The dark circles, beginnings of crow’s feet, and laugh lines showed her mother’s age of sixty-two.

  “What? You look and look, but don’t speak. Tell me what happened, Phoenix!” The look in Magalie’s eyes told her that she would not ask again.

  Phoenix looked down at her chipped nails, studied the month-old fuchsia nail polish. “Cedric and I broke up, Ma. I don’t know what else there is to say.”

  “Tell me what happened! Grace a Dieu! (For the grace of God) Pale!” (Speak)

  Phoenix cleared her throat, knowing that when her mother began speaking “Kreyo-lish” a combination of the French-based Haitian dialect and English, she wasn’t too far away from getting hysterical.

  Phoenix covered her face as it crumbled in her palm.

  Seeing the tears leak between Phoenix’s fingers, Magalie asked in a soft tone, “What did that man do, Fe-fe?”

  “He cheated on me, alright! He cheated! There, you happy now?” Phoenix shouted. She took several breaths to contain herself. Grateful her mother had not slapped her for her tone, she continued. “I came home a couple of weeks back after hanging out with Nic and San. We had gone to a restaurant to finalize the plans for the wedding. When I got home, I caught him. He was with this Asian chick, Ma…”

  Phoenix sobbed as images of Cedric in their bedroom with the girl began to take chunks out of her numb heart. She glanced at her mother who was still seated across from her on the couch, wishing that Magalie would come over and place her arms around her. But her mother had not hugged her since her high school graduation several years earlier.

  Her eyes fell on the bottle of rum in her mother’s liquor cabinet. Her throat burned with a longing for one taste…

  She cleared the craving out of her throat and continued. “He told me he had been messing with her for a few weeks. He said he loved me but wasn’t sure he was in love with me because…because of the way I look…”

  Magalie crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Hmmmm.”

  “He said he was grateful for the things I’ve done for him and he wanted to marry me because I was good for him, but that he wasn’t physically attracted to me because of my weight and skin problems. He said he blamed me for not working on it because that was what kept him from falling in love with me. So he cheated, Ma. And I walked in on him.”

  Magalie remained silent as Phoenix bent over her knees and continued to cry from a place deep within her. Her throat became ragged.

  “So then what happened, Fe?”

  “So I beat the crap out of him, and the girl caught some of it too. After we had it out, he told me he was sorry but I put him out anyway.” Phoenix jumped up and grabbed a napkin from the dining room table. “I couldn’t take it, Ma. The things he said to me. The way he cheated on me. So I told him to leave. He begged to stay, but I told him.”

  Magalie was already shaking her head, saying, “No, no.”

  Phoenix, who was wiping her face, paused to stare at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘no, no?’ He lied and cheated—”

  Magalie threw back her head and laughed. Its sound was like glass breaking. “So you broke off the wedding for
that?”

  Phoenix’s hand dropped to her side and she let the napkin fall to the floor. “What?” she shrieked. “What do you mean? Of course! Didn’t you hear what I said? He cheated and lied because he felt I was too fat and—”

  “Listen, little girl, you have a lot to learn about men. Sit down. I want to tell you something.”

  “But—”

  “I said sit down!” Magalie widened her eyes to tell her daughter that she meant business.

  Phoenix stomped over to her chair. “What?”

  “Listen, Phoenix, I know it hurts right now, just like it always does when a man does what men do. You’re not the first woman to have a man cheat and you won’t be the last. They always have a reason because it’s the way they are! It’s what we have to deal with as women. You should have never broke off the wedding. Never!”

  Phoenix jumped off her chair and began to pace. “Ma! How could you say that? He—”

  “I am not senile yet. You don’t have to repeat yourself. I know what he did. You should not have broken it off.” Magalie watched her daughter pace for a moment before she snapped, “Listen, sit down, okay? Your pacing drives me crazy!”

  “No! Why would you be this insensitive? You just heard what happened. You don’t hug me or comfort me, but tell me I should not have broken it off?”

  Magalie waved her hand. “Hug? What will that do for you? Good advice is what you need, Fe-fe. And my advice is call that man and work things out before it’s too late.”

  “Before it’s too late for what?”

  “Before it’s too late for you! I am your mother and it is my job to tell you the truth. You are getting older, and let’s face it, you are very overweight. You do have skin problems. You are a beautiful person but not the prettiest woman out there, okay? Even though I didn’t like your situation, I always thanked God for sending you someone to marry. And he was handsome! He looks Indian and has good hair and height. His skin is beautiful. He has nice eyes. He would have given you beautiful children! You have no right to make such demands in your situation! I prayed you would somehow get a man that looks like him, or even a white man, so that your children would not suffer for looking like—”

  Phoenix’s gasp ricocheted around the room, cutting through her mother’s words, rendering her silent. Her eyes burned as the tears spilled. “I can’t believe this. You’re saying I should be grateful that I had Cedric, so that I could have children that don’t end up looking like me?”

  “Or me,” her mother said quietly. “I didn’t want your kids to suffer the way you did in this country or the way I did in mine. People don’t like women with very dark skin or kinky hair. And you have never lost the weight…” Magalie shrugged and looked away. “I was happy for you because I knew that man could give me good-looking grandchildren.”

  Phoenix stared at her mother for several minutes before going over to the chair and grabbing her bag. “I don’t believe this,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t be surprised because I kinda knew you would say some foolish stuff like this, but somehow I still am.”

  “Where are you going? We are not done with this conversation.”

  “Well I am! How could you? I am your daughter. You made me. If anyone should find me beautiful, in spite of any imperfections, it should be you. You are the one who passed yours down to me! You were always struggling with weight. Your skin looked good some days and bad on others. But I never stopped thinking you were beautiful! I never stopped believing you could have the best. I never thought you would have to settle. Even Mr. Rodriguez saw the beauty in you and you pushed him away because you didn’t think he cared about you. The truth is, Ma, you didn’t believe he should care about you!”

  Magalie stood and finally walked over to her daughter to place a hand on her arm. “Listen to me, Fe-fe, I—”

  Phoenix wretched away, trembling. “No, Ma. You listen! I always wanted you to find someone to love after Papi took off and left us. I used to pray you’d give Mr. Rodriguez a chance. But you didn’t. You were bitter and angry and you took it out on him. Papi cheated on you for years with women all over New York City, women of all backgrounds, and you took it. I used to be up at three in the morning, listening to you cry, as you called all his friends looking for him. You knew where he was and what he was doing. You took it all those years. And when he left to move back to Haiti, with that woman, a part of you died. You stopped being the mother who used to laugh and hug or tell us you loved us. You became cold and bitter and dried up. And you stopped loving everyone because you didn’t love yourself! I hated it! I—”

  The sound of Magalie’s sharp slap echoed.

  Phoenix grabbed her cheek and froze.

  “How dare you judge me, eh? After all I’ve done for you?” Magalie’s eyes were red as she trembled. “How dare you speak to your mother that way?”

  Phoenix turned away and walked to the door. She opened it then slammed it shut. “How dare you treat your own daughter like trash? And I wasn’t judging you, Ma. I was telling you what I saw growing up. And what I see now is that you want me to live the same way. You want me to stay with a man who used me and treated me like garbage because you think I can’t get anyone else, right? You think I ought to be grateful for loving a man that looks like him because I look like me…because I look like you!”

  Magalie’s face crumpled.

  “But I am not going to be like you! I may not be gorgeous right now, but I am going to show you! I am not going to live a life with a man who doesn’t love me for me, big belly, acne, bad hair days, and all. I am going to get this skin thing under control and I’m going to lose weight. But even if I don’t, I would rather be alone than to let a man destroy me and my ability to love and be loved back. I am not going to end up like you, Ma! I would rather die.”

  Magalie took a step. “I only want what’s best for you, Fe-fe. I only want you to be happy.”

  Phoenix shook her head. “No, you want what’s best for you. You want me to be happy? Learn to give me a hug when I’m hurting. Learn to tell me that I am beautiful to you. Learn how to teach me to be strong and stand up for myself. Learn to love yourself so you can love me back.” She opened the door. “And stop putting me down for the things you passed down to me!”

  Phoenix walked out of the door without looking back. Not wanting to wait for the slow elevator to make its ascent up to the seventeenth floor, she took the stairs.

  And while taking the stairs, Phoeniz actually thought she could make it out of the building without coming undone. She really did, and she tried.

  But as her mother’s slap continued to sting her cheek, and as Magalie’s words pounded against the last layer of self-love that she possessed, Phoenix collapsed at the foot of the stairs on the first floor. Burying her head in her lap, she covered her head as if she could shield it against the harsh reality of her world.

  With her last bit of strength, Phoenix hid in that dank, filthy, dark stairwell and cried.

  Chapter 6

  There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the sun (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

  Paulo left his building in a rush. He had a feeling that he would be seeing the woman soon, but didn’t know when or how. All he knew was that he needed to be prepared for the time that God would cause him and the woman to cross paths.

  He walked over to his car and waited. “Hmmm. Should I drive to the park or jog over?” After a few minutes, Paulo felt led to drive up to Washington Heights to begin his morning jog. He was grateful that the August heat had not yet turned the streets into a concrete sauna as he made his way up Amsterdam Avenue.

  The streets were thriving with street merchants selling everything from chuchifritos to pairs of sneakers. Older residents had already begun setting up tables and chairs for their daily lounge on their favorite street corners. Men set up barbeque pits and tables for games of dominos and poker. Several streets were closed off by the Police Athletic League so that the children could play and enjoy their summer Saturd
ay without fear of ongoing traffic. Paulo smiled as he watched the West Harlem-Washington Heights communities come alive as the sun slowly began to heat up the air.

  Several minutes later, Paulo parked his car on West 177th Street. He was ready to jump out of his car to begin his Saturday morning jog, but again felt led to wait.

  Paulo was confused because he was sure the Lord had roused him to get up and go, but now that he’d arrived at the park, he had to wait.

  “Wait for what?” Paulo said aloud. He waited for the answer but none came.

  Sighing, Paulo turned on his air conditioner, his radio, and began to listen to a CD of praise music from his church.

  In spite of the praise music reminding Paulo that God is mighty to save, seeds of doubt began to manifest in his mind. Paulo struggled to focus on the music, tried to allow the words of hope to wash over him, but they were drowned out by the words plaguing his mind.

  The enemy sat beside him, raging at the young man’s faith. Satan leaned close to Paulo and whispered, “You are such an idiot, Paulo. You’re sitting in this car like you’ve gotten a word from Him, but you’re just fooling yourself. God doesn’t speak to you! You’re not on some assignment to save some poor, wretched girl. Why would God choose you after all the mistakes you’ve made with your own wife! You’re just being prideful. You should just go home before you take this any farther!”

  Satan poked Paulo’s head and watched his words penetrating Paulo’s mind. He waited, believing that he had Paulo. “Go home,” Satan shouted into Paulo’s mind. “Go home, Idiot!”

  Paulo knew those words were not from his Father or even from himself. He wanted to ignore them, but the words shouted in his head and doubt blossomed within him. Paulo wanted now to move this thing along. If God had truly been speaking to him and leading him, then why was he still sitting in a car one hour after reaching his destination? If he stayed in the car, only to discover he had made the whole thing up in his head, he would feel like a fool. He would also continue to doubt himself whenever he thought he’d heard from the Lord. And if he didn’t stay in the car, didn’t obey what he’d believed to be a command from the Holy Spirit, he could miss the chance to help someone else.