Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [38]
Nadine was short and round like a pumpkin. Though the exact family line had never been explained to either of them, Rhonda and Ray called her Aunt Nadine. They spent every afternoon with her, after they had been dismissed from school. Rhonda thought she was nice enough, but not nice enough to live with. Nett explained to Nadine that she needed six to nine months to get back on track and that she was going to live with her sister in a small one-bedroom apartment. Nadine, who owned her home and kept children for a living, said she’d be more than happy to keep Rhonda and Ray. After all, she said, it was her own flesh and blood they were talking about.
Nett promised it would only be for a few weeks, two months at most. Although it ended up lasting five years, it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, there were times when it was rather fascinating for Rhonda. It was the first time she’d lived in a house. As far as she knew, the only people who lived in real houses were rich people like the ones Grandma worked for. Nadine’s was a two-story house with a finished basement. There were two televisions on the parlor floor and one in the basement, where there was also a bar with stools, a record player, and a complete set of living room furniture. It was called the family room. The most exciting thing was that the house also had a backyard. This meant that Rhonda did not have to go out front to play, nor explain to the other children on the block who she was and where she came from. It also meant less chance that she’d see her father driving by with women in his car. She wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that her father was either ignoring her or had forgotten that she existed.
Aunt Nadine kept her house clean. The hardwood floors were always polished to a high shine. You could see your reflection in the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor. Every surface, every nook and cranny in every room was dust-free. Even with all the children who were through the house each day, all the rooms were spotless. Rhonda and her brother each had their own room. His was on the second floor; Rhonda’s was on the first floor, between Aunt Nadine’s room and the bedroom of Aunt Nadine’s only child, who was nicknamed “Beanie.”
Rhonda was expected to keep her room as clean as the rest of the house, which she did to the best of her ability. She was also given a myriad of chores around the house for which she was paid a weekly allowance. She missed Nett, though. She missed her so much she ached with the missing. Unlike Nett, Aunt Nadine did not talk to Rhonda. She told her what to do and how to do it, but not much else. Rhonda did her best to help Aunt Nadine with the children she kept during the day. She helped feed them, she played with them, and it was her assigned duty to wash their hands and faces just before their parents came to pick them up. Aunt Nadine never thanked Rhonda nor told her she’d done a good job.
Rhonda had never seen anyone take her hair off until she went to live with Aunt Nadine. Aunt Nadine had a whole dresser drawer full of wigs. If she got up late and was in a hurry to leave the house, Aunt Nadine would reach in the drawer, pull out one of her hairy hats, and pat it into place on her half-bald head. At first, Rhonda was fascinated by Aunt Nadine’s hair collection. But frequently, Aunt Nadine would put her wig on backwards. She’d brush it into place, then put on her glasses. Sometimes they’d be at the grocery store, or on their way to a PTA meeting, and one of their neighbors would lean in close enough to whisper, “Nadine, your wig’s on backwards.” Whenever and wherever this happened, Nadine would reach up, spin the wig around, and pat it into place. Rhonda would be mortified!
It was bad enough that the person who went to speak to the teacher on your behalf had a different last name from yours. But when she would adjust her hair, in full view of the public, moving her bangs from the nape of her neck to their proper place on her forehead, it was