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Authors: Olivia Gaines
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they believed they were cool.”
It made sense.
George made sense.
For nearly a month he fed her. Darlene put a halt to the expensive restaurant meals and taught him how to grocery shop. Together they cooked dinners and shared stories. It didn’t take long before they became the “it” couple on campus. George became president of his fraternity and Darlene chartered a NAACP Chapter. He had his own way of getting things done behind the scenes and he was okay for her to be out front in the spotlight.
Out front is where she lived throughout law school. George, after learning to cook well balanced meals under her direction, would make lunches for her while she studied. The small apartment they shared off campus became a central point for friends to gather to see what the power couple had planned for the weekend. George had impeccable taste in wine and she in saving money. With George’s connections, weekend get-aways took on a whole new meaning. She learned how to speak with the hoi polloi on Thursdays and put a sweet little black dress with pearls to meet with Congressmen and well-funded supporters at Friday cocktail mixers.
Before long, she was wearing his ring, meeting his family and spending Thanksgiving in Connecticut and Christmas in Virginia. During law school Darlene married George in a mid-sized wedding full of people she’d read about in newspapers who were friends of the Patterson’s. Her side of the church was littered with blue collar workers whose shoes did not always match their belts while his side wore couture and designer suits.
They began their life together in a small townhouse in Georgetown. It was a good marriage that produced two strong, brilliant children that Darlene rarely got to see because of her hectic work schedule and business travels. After a few years, George moved the family to a larger home in Fredericksburg next to political pundits and the who’s who of politics on “The Hill”. Her neighbors were people Darlene rarely saw outside of work related encounters but warm bodies she shared headlines with in national papers. Although she attempted to make it home for dinner each night, her travels and activism for the rights of animals and the planet kept her on the road.
George never complained. Darlene didn’t complain either. He groomed and nurtured their children in the manner in which he was raised.
Their son, George the fourth headed off to college in a shiny black BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used mainly to listen to Najee and Kenny G. Their daughter, Nathalie, was the spitting image of her mother but the mouth piece of their father. Nathalie grew up a staunch conservative who believed that P.E.T.A. meant people eating tasty animals. Either she was masticating large chunks of their flesh or wearing them in the form of leather pants and rare animal hides on her wrist in the usage of ridiculously expensive purses. She and Darlene never saw eye to eye on anything, least of all the super conservative, stupidly rich man Nathalie married at the age of 20.
Nathalie became the mother of twins at the ripe age of twenty-noe. Darlene’s heart broke for her daughter.
“You will never understand what it means to be a woman of substance,” she told Nathalie.
“Mother, you are so busy trying to be something that you have never stopped to be anybody’s someone. You are everything to Daddy, yet he seems like a man who is only there to support you and be your cheerleader. When have you ever cheered anyone else...you never even cheered on your own children because you were never around,” Nathalie told her. “And especially not your grandchildren. Do you even know their names?”
She knew their names. Those children were going to be her opportunity to see for the first time all the things she missed with her own children. The first steps, the first tooth, and their first words she would have experienced with her grandchildren
It made sense.
George made sense.
For nearly a month he fed her. Darlene put a halt to the expensive restaurant meals and taught him how to grocery shop. Together they cooked dinners and shared stories. It didn’t take long before they became the “it” couple on campus. George became president of his fraternity and Darlene chartered a NAACP Chapter. He had his own way of getting things done behind the scenes and he was okay for her to be out front in the spotlight.
Out front is where she lived throughout law school. George, after learning to cook well balanced meals under her direction, would make lunches for her while she studied. The small apartment they shared off campus became a central point for friends to gather to see what the power couple had planned for the weekend. George had impeccable taste in wine and she in saving money. With George’s connections, weekend get-aways took on a whole new meaning. She learned how to speak with the hoi polloi on Thursdays and put a sweet little black dress with pearls to meet with Congressmen and well-funded supporters at Friday cocktail mixers.
Before long, she was wearing his ring, meeting his family and spending Thanksgiving in Connecticut and Christmas in Virginia. During law school Darlene married George in a mid-sized wedding full of people she’d read about in newspapers who were friends of the Patterson’s. Her side of the church was littered with blue collar workers whose shoes did not always match their belts while his side wore couture and designer suits.
They began their life together in a small townhouse in Georgetown. It was a good marriage that produced two strong, brilliant children that Darlene rarely got to see because of her hectic work schedule and business travels. After a few years, George moved the family to a larger home in Fredericksburg next to political pundits and the who’s who of politics on “The Hill”. Her neighbors were people Darlene rarely saw outside of work related encounters but warm bodies she shared headlines with in national papers. Although she attempted to make it home for dinner each night, her travels and activism for the rights of animals and the planet kept her on the road.
George never complained. Darlene didn’t complain either. He groomed and nurtured their children in the manner in which he was raised.
Their son, George the fourth headed off to college in a shiny black BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used mainly to listen to Najee and Kenny G. Their daughter, Nathalie, was the spitting image of her mother but the mouth piece of their father. Nathalie grew up a staunch conservative who believed that P.E.T.A. meant people eating tasty animals. Either she was masticating large chunks of their flesh or wearing them in the form of leather pants and rare animal hides on her wrist in the usage of ridiculously expensive purses. She and Darlene never saw eye to eye on anything, least of all the super conservative, stupidly rich man Nathalie married at the age of 20.
Nathalie became the mother of twins at the ripe age of twenty-noe. Darlene’s heart broke for her daughter.
“You will never understand what it means to be a woman of substance,” she told Nathalie.
“Mother, you are so busy trying to be something that you have never stopped to be anybody’s someone. You are everything to Daddy, yet he seems like a man who is only there to support you and be your cheerleader. When have you ever cheered anyone else...you never even cheered on your own children because you were never around,” Nathalie told her. “And especially not your grandchildren. Do you even know their names?”
She knew their names. Those children were going to be her opportunity to see for the first time all the things she missed with her own children. The first steps, the first tooth, and their first words she would have experienced with her grandchildren
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