Chapter 3: Teardrop
V-103 was rockin’ the box with “Tell
Me Something Good” by Rufus featuring Chaka Khan. Dominique sang along with
her, sometimes in the same key or a half a step below making the lead vocal
into a tight harmony vocal. Either way, Dom sounded as good, if not better than
the real thing. It helped keep her mind off of the fact she had to do dishes.
She hated doing dishes with a passion, and promised herself that one day, when
she moved out, she was going to get a dishwasher so she wouldn’t have to do
dishes anymore. Dom figured that day would come a lot sooner than she thought
because she was finally in a band that plays for a living. Her dream was beginning
to come true.
“Stop all that damn singin’. Messin’
up Chaka’s song an’ shit.”
Dominique’s mother, Ava, could care
less, however.
Dom stopped singing, but she hummed
quietly to herself. She heard Ava open the beer and take a loud gulping sip of
it. Dom could feel Ava’s eyes on her and knew that Ava was wondering why she
was so happy.
Ever since Dom was little, she had
the feeling that Ava didn’t like her at all. It was like Dom had done something
to piss Ava off. It must’ve been because she was born.
Dominique barely remembered her
father, Maurice. She was very small when he left, about five years old. The
only reason she knew that was because Ava, who was drunk at the time, told her
about how she cheated on him and he must have found out because he left her.
Ava failed to mention how any of that was Dom’s fault.
“What’chu so happy about?” Ava
growled.
“I got the lead vocalist spot in a
local band today.” Dom answered. Tension danced along her shoulders as she
braced for the inevitable attack on her good fortune.
Ava gulped down more beer and said,
“You still on that singin’ shit ain’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Ya need ta quit tryin’ to be like
Mariah and go back to school. Can’t pay no bills singin’.” Dom didn’t mention
that Ava failed to finish school.
“That’s why I’m workin’ at
Walgreen’s until I can.”
Ava burped. “Please. Yo high yella
ass can’t sing anyway. You’d never make it.” Ava walked back into the living
room and sat down in front of the T.V. as if nothing was wrong; as if her words
didn’t cut Dom’s self-confidence to shreds or make her feel weak and small.
But they did.
Dom stood completely still, barely
breathing. Her face was a mask of incredulity and shock. As tears slipped down
her face, the mask splintered into a thousand pieces. Anger, fear and Ava’s
words squeezed the tears out of her and into the rapidly cooling dishwater.
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