8 Jams and Maybe

I honestly didn't think a person could throw up more than they ate, but here I am living the dream. May came in the bathroom with her husband to check on me. The dude said he'd get me something to stop the nausea and May sat next to me, rubbing my back as we waited for his return. "I'd ask you to hold my hair..." I snapped.

"Good thing you don't have any, huh." She snipped back.

"So, I'm supposed to be thankful?"

"Yes, actually. But I suppose that would be difficult for you right now."

"Ya think?"

Jams came back with a smile. "Here," he said handing me a small pill. "Put this under your tongue and let it dissolve. It will calm things down fairly quickly." I obeyed, but only because I was tired of dry heaving.

"Come on, Sugar. Let's get you back to bed." May said as she lifted me from the floor with ease. She carried me back to my room and set me on the bed. "We'll try food again later but I'll get you some water to sip on for now."

"How is nausea?" Jams asked. "Is better? Yes."

"Yes," I reluctantly admitted. I look at my caretakers completely overwhelmed by their size, their build, but mostly by their color difference. I've seen and known mixed race couples before, so that wasn't the issue so much. I have just never seen anyone so white with some one so black. I had questions and since I didn't really care about my reputation with these people, nor did I want them to know just how scared I was, I decided to ask May. "How did you two end up together? I mean, by his accent, he's clearly not from around here." And to Jams "There wasn't any black girls where you come from?" I was expecting them to offended; to blink in shock or something but no; they giggled. "And how is it that you two know my gramma? Y'all live here? 'cause you seem to be here all the time."

They looked at each other smiling for a few seconds before Jams opened his mouth. "Your gramma is the only mother I have left."

"Mother?! How the he..."

"I was born in a small village called Bambey in Senegal, Africa. My parents died when I was young and I found myself in an orphanage run by a Christian church. Your grandparents became my sponsors there which paid for my food, housing, and schooling. We exchanged many letters over the years. I would tell her everything about my life and how I missed my parents. She would tell me all about her life and her family here. She told me that she and her husband would be my surrogate parents until I could see mine again in Heaven. Her sponsorship saved my life. Poor orphans are often either sold into slavery or left to die alone. Because of their sponsorship, I was able grow up healthy and finish my education in Africa and with their help I was able to come here to attend a university."

"And that's where you met May?"

"Yes and no." he smiled.

"I wasn't a student in the university." May interjected. "But I would cage fight members of the mix martial arts team on the weekends for extra money. Jams attended one of my fights."

"Yes, one of my friends invited me to watch him fight. He didn't know he was scheduled to fight a woman that night." He started laughing at his memory.

"Nor did he expect to lose." May guffawed. "Seriously, you should have seen his face. His eyes were like saucers."

"Well, you are huge." I pointed out.

"Yes, but he was bigger than me."

"Maybe he was going easy on you. You know because you're a girl and all."

"At first, maybe." Offered Jams. "But by the second round he was angry that she was beating him, so he pulled out all the stops. Even offered up a few illegal moves."

"A few? He would have been disqualified for cheating had I lost. You know men hate losing to women."

"So, she kicked your friend's ass and you thought what? I need a piece of that."

He looked at May with lovesick eyes. "Something like that."

"So, May, your family didn't have a problem with you being with a black man?"

"I suppose if they did, I didn't notice. Jams and I dated for a couple of years before we married and, in that time, we discovered that we matched in all the important ways. We share the same convictions; our ultimate goals in life and family are the same and we serve the same God, so you see, we are equally yoked in all the ways that matter most. Skin color isn't something we can choose or change so there is no reason to let it lead decisions or be the basis of judgment of any kind really. Does our differing skin color bother you?"

Um, yeah. It's been bugging me since I found out. "No." I lied. "Should it?"

May shrugged. "It shouldn't but if it does, own it and then ask yourself why."

"Well it doesn't bother me." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm tired so can you leave me alone?"

"Sure thing, Pumpkin. Come on, Jams, my man. Let's let her rest." She took him by the hand and closed the door behind them.

I rolled my back to the door and stared at the wall. 'Ask myself why, huh? Good question. I didn't think I did have a problem until I met him. Maybe it's just because he's so dark. And tall. And built. I think I'm just afraid of him. But then I'm afraid of her too. And Gram. And the dogs. That Jimmy guy wasn't so scary to look at, but he didn't seem all that friendly. I think I'm just freaked out. To coin a phrase my mom has used on occasion, I'm not in Kansas anymore. And I'm a hell of a long way from Reno. I miss home. I miss Mom. And I miss Jude. A shiver shook my spine at the thought of him and darkness threatened to snuff out the noon day light in the room. I curled into the fetal position and let a few more tears stain the pillow.