Free The Makeover by Vacirca Vaughn

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