Page 4 of Summer in London
A’ja said goodbye to the other players and headed outside to hail a cab.
She had been coming to London long enough to learn the rules of the road and become accustomed to driving over there, but she never went through the hassle to get a license because she was only there a few months out of the year.
A’ja’s soon to be ex-husband, was a music producer, so he made good money.
He paid the mortgage and the utilities, while A’ja paid her car note, cell phone bill, and other personal bills like her credit cards.
She bought groceries, paid for lawn maintenance, the weekly cleaning service and contributed to their home in those ways.
Kenyatta still put more money into the house, however, so one thing A’ja wasn’t hurting for was money. She didn’t mind taking cabs everywhere.
A’ja settled into the back of the cab and smiled as she checked her phone. Wasting no time, she called her brother, Rod back, and he answered on the second ring.
“Heyyy bookie,” he sang into the phone, and she laughed.
“If there was ever a time that you weren’t dramatic, I’d be concerned. What you want crazy butt? I was in practice when you called.”
“I just want you to know that me and Simone will be there for your first game. I can’t wait. I’m gon’ be in the stands twerking this fat ass.”
A’ja laughed. It had been Rod and Simone that kept her half-way sane during her break-up.
Rod was that person that was going to turn everything into a joke, and Simone was the intelligent, sensible one that stayed ready with some affirmations or something inspirational.
From the day her mother brought Rod home from the hospital, A’ja knew she had a new best friend.
She was three years older than him, and from the moment he started walking, they became inseparable.
A’ja didn’t know what gay was until she was in middle school, but from the moment Rod started elementary school, she’d hear some adults whisper and refer to him as feminine.
There wasn’t a sport that their father, Gerald didn’t try to get Rod to play, but he wasn’t interested in any of them.
It was A’ja that fell in love with the game of basketball and began to play.
The older Rod got, the more flamboyant he became.
He didn’t officially come out of the closet until he was twenty-three, but no one was shocked when he did. They already knew.
A’ja had never seen Rod as afraid as he was when he had to look his father in the face and admit to being gay, but Gerald just shrugged and said he already knew.
A’ja had seen fathers disown their sons over being gay, and she could never, and would never understand it.
There were actually people that would rather their child be a murderer or a rapist versus being gay, and that was sick to her.
“I can’t wait for y’all to come. Even with practice keeping me busy, I get lonely. It’ll be nice to have company for a few days.”
“You know we’re on the way and ready to turn up. If I could afford to miss work like that, I’d be on a flight once a month to come see you. Ughhhh I can’t wait until I get married and become a housewife. Having to work and take care of myself is beyond ghetto.”
“You are freakin’ nuts,” A’ja giggled.
Rod was a paralegal in a very prestigious law firm, and he made decent money.
A’ja loved to spoil those closest to her, so she often gifted Rod with lavish trips or expensive gifts for Christmas and his birthday.
His last birthday, he’d saved up $4,500 to put a down payment on his dream car, which was a cherry red Lexus IS, and A’ja gave him the money to make the first six payments.
When he purchased a condo, she got him a living room set as a housewarming gift and for Christmas, she gifted him several pairs of designer shoes and a Delta gift card, so he could book a flight anywhere that he wanted to go.
A’ja conversed with Rod until she reached her destination, and she ended the call and jumped in the shower.
She didn’t have time to put on make-up, so after she put lotion on her body, A’ja brushed her teeth and dressed in camo print cargo pants, a white graphic tee, and orange platform, peep-toe heels.
She let her braids hang down to her booty, and she sprayed perfume and swiped gloss across her lips.
When A’ja checked her watch, she saw that she had fifteen minutes before she had to meet Celine.
A’ja went outside and walked a few blocks before hailing a cab.
She arrived at the restaurant at the same time that Celine’s cab pulled up.
Celine and Marlow were staying in a flat about five minutes away from A’ja.
“Hey, boo,” A’ja greeted her like they hadn’t just seen each other.
The WNBA wasn’t as popular as the NBA, but a lot of people recognized A’ja when she went out in London.
She was known way more in London than she was in the states.
On the way inside the restaurant, a kid stopped them and asked if he could get a picture with them, and Celine and A’ja obliged.
Once they were seated, Celine started with the small talk.
“Is Kenyatta flying out for your first game? I know you said Simone and Rod were coming.”
A’ja pushed out a small breath. She may as well go ahead and get it over with. “Kenyatta won’t be here for any of my games. I decided last month to get a divorce. We just put our house on the market, and he’s in the process of moving out. I put all of my things in storage before I came here.”
Celine’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, A’ja. I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” A’ja shrugged passively. “It’s fine. I’m still trying to process it. I won’t lie and say it’s easy, but I’m not a total and complete mess. I’m going to be okay.” She loved that she sounded so confident because that damn sure wasn’t how she felt.
Yes, she’d be okay eventually but with the way she felt most days, eventually seemed years away.
A’ja longed for the morning that she woke up, and Kenyatta wasn’t the first thing on her mind.
The wedding photos that adorned the walls in the foyer of their home.
The pictures of them sprinkled throughout the house.
All the pictures of them on her social media pages.
It hurt like hell to look at them, so she’d destroyed the physical pictures.
Pictures that cost thousands of dollars.
With the swipe of a finger, him and all of their memories were deleted from social media, but it would be a long time before he was removed from her heart, and that’s what A’ja was having a hard time with.
She wished she could stop loving him with the snap of a finger, but she wasn’t built like that.
The day he moved on, she knew it would crush her.
She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to think about it.
A’ja hated that she was being such a pussy, but this shit hurt.
It hurt bad. There were days that she didn’t want to get out of bed, but she had to.
She had to keep going. To lay down and die because her marriage was over would have been too pathetic of an act to have to explain.
So no matter how bad she felt, she got up every day, and she pushed through.
Her ring was packed away, and all of her passwords that contained his name had been changed.
A’ja wished she could blink and it be a year later, but life didn’t work like that.
“I just want you to know that I’m here if you ever want to talk about it. If you do, I’ll wait for you to bring it up. Other than that, I won’t mention it.”
A’ja’s cheeks lifted with a smile. “I appreciate that, Celine. Talking about it is something that I don’t really like to do, but if I ever wake up and decide that I’m ready to vent, I’ll keep you in mind.”
Celine nodded as the waitress brought over a basket of bread. A’ja and Celine both loved the bread at the restaurant, and they wasted no time digging in while they waited on their appetizers to come.
“I think this may be my last season with the Lions,” Celine dropped the bomb, and A’ja’s brows hiked up.
“Really? Why?”
“Well for one, you know MJ is older. He understands that this is my job, and he’s okay when I’m away, but I just don’t like having to leave him when the season starts.
It feels like I miss too much of his life even if it is only for four months.
It’s not exactly a quick flight home, so the times that I can go visit him are limited.
Even with him coming for the summer, that’s not going to work anymore, because he wants to go to band camp this year, so he won’t be here.
I can’t make him miss the things he wants to do to come to London with me for work.
And Marlow and I want three kids. I’m really close to thirty.
We need to go ahead and work those other two in there. ”
A’ja swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
She hated feeling jealous and bitter. Her plans got derailed, and she didn’t get to plan her baby and work it into her life, but she had to smile and be happy for other people while they did.
It wasn’t fucking fair, but Celine was a great mother, and she deserved to have all the kids she wanted.
“Trust me, I get it. It’s different for women.
Hell, we’re different from most women because we can’t exactly play basketball during the pregnancy.
Being in the WNBA is a great experience, but it’s not everybody’s end game.
Marriage, having kids, those are all things that we have to treat a little differently than some women. ”
“Yeah, like of course, my money helps. It’s not like Marlow and I don’t enjoy being well off and financially comfortable, but he does well enough that my money isn’t needed.
I can leave the WNBA today, and our lifestyle won’t change a bit.
He wants me at home having babies and once that’s done, if I want to go back to work or start some kind of business, I can. ”
“I wish you much luck and success. I hope you get pregnant as soon as you start trying,” A’ja replied genuinely.
A’ja enjoyed dinner with Celine but as soon as she got in her cab to head back home, tears began to prickle her eyes.
She liked her life the way it was and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why things had to change.
Back at her flat, A’ja got ready for bed, and her eyes fell on the pack of birth control pills that was on her dresser.
Sometimes, the pills made her a little queasy, so she preferred to take them at night after dinner.
A’ja was no longer having sex, so she picked the pack of pills up and tossed them in the trash.
Kids. That had been the first source of conflict between her and Kenyatta.
While they were dating, kids were discussed many times, and they both wanted two.
A year ago, he suddenly began to say he wasn’t sure if he wanted kids anytime soon, and they could wait another few years.
A’ja was past ready for a baby, and she couldn’t understand what had suddenly changed, but every time she tried to communicate and get clarity on issues, Kenyatta acted as if she was getting on his nerves.
He looked at communicating as her nagging, and A’ja hated that about him, but she would fall back and leave well enough alone.
Which would lead to her holding things in for days or weeks and one day, she’d just explode over something small and be looking like a crazy person.
She even suggested therapy, and he said they didn’t need it.
A’ja wasn’t sure what changed. Soon, something as small as communicating like two adults was a challenge for them.
Something was changing. Maybe they were simply growing apart, and A’ja didn’t like it.
In an effort to save her marriage, she began agreeing to do whatever Kenyatta wanted to do even if it wasn’t what she wanted.
Like waiting to have kids. After weeks of arguing over the smallest most trivial shit, she once again suggested therapy and when he refused, A’ja blew up and asked for a divorce.
Which she instantly regretted, but he didn’t protest it.
In fact, he seemed so okay with it that all A’ja could do was cry.
For hours. A divorce wasn’t really what she wanted, but she refused to be the only one fighting for their marriage to work.
How was it fair, that she wouldn’t get to have kids?
How was it fair that she wasted years being married to the wrong man?
Why did some women get it right and find their soulmate the first go around and women like her had to be tricked?
A’ja was so disgusted that she kissed her teeth.
With a scowl on her face, she changed into her pajamas and poured herself a glass of wine.
She grabbed the remote and curled up on the couch as a lone tear rolled down her cheek.
This was now her life. Single at thirty. Some straight up bullshit.