Author Katrina Franklin's: Last Names

Hey HairyKats

Check out today's short story titled Last Names.


Our household was Jones, my mother, Williams my brother, Thomas, myself , and Tilman, my stepfather. My grandfather was Cooks, and my grandmother Nelson.
I suppose no one believed in the sanctity of marriage or I wouldn't  be roaming around as a woman confused with no sense of self or connection to who, or where my heritage resides.
My brother had a different father. He was split between my mom's house and his father's home. His father married another woman a year after he had beaten my mother to a bloody pulp and decided that he was tired of using her as his punching bag. That entire family was the William's family. My brother included, with his father, his stepmother, and their three children. It made sense then that he never understood my feelings of not understanding who I was.
My father wasn't around. I always wondered why my stepfather never married my mother and adopted me with his last name. At least I'd feel a sense of connection or belonging.

I was always irritated by the salesclerks at Ralph's saying have a nice day Mrs. Tilman, because we all shared my stepfather's rewards card phone number and Tilman was the name that printed on the receipt.  In my head I would utter rudely 'that ain't my damn name'! I am Selita Thomas. Thomas, descendant of Gregory Cooks and Lily Nelson, and the child of Alisha Jones and Henry Thomas. Yea, ancestory.com wouldn't be able to crack this clue.

I spent my life angry and hostile but needed some freedom. I began to let go of the pains and question marks of my past and began to define who I was in the now:A 3rd year college senior without a clue of where or what I was doing. Some, self I had found!

I only needed a few credits to graduate but my school loans were racking up so I decided to find a job to support  the rest of my stay here at the University. I found a job working as a part-time secretary at a prestigious marketing firm.

My first day there I met a man. It was funny, because I wasn't sure if this had to do with my daddy issues but the second I met a man, I imagined myself in a wedding dress and having his babies. He said "Hello, I'm Stanley Jones, the recruiting director, and you are?" and broke my train of thought 'turned on' I said under my breath but simply replied in a chuckle with "Selita" . He was beautiful. His skin was the complexion of a Werther's original hard candy. His head bald as a milk dud and his eyes were shaped like almonds.  His stature was at least 6 foot 2 and I could tell by the arms that guided his firm handshake into my hand, that he was all muscle. Too bad for him, I had just taken my vow of celibacy after years of having sex with whatever man who showed me any glimpse of "love", like buying me a meal, complimenting my hair, you know the usual bullshit that would lead me to bartering my self-esteem and self-worth for an ounce of their attention in the form of sex, lies, and them moving on after they got what they were after.

Stanley and I became great friends, over the months that I worked at the firm. He told me about how he was raised by his father after his mother had abandoned their family. I told him about my family, about my appreciating the love and support of my stepfather and my simultaneous desire to know the rest of my family, or even where my current family came from. I told him how I never felt whole. He always reminded me of how blessed I was to have two parents in the household despite what our last names were. "Family was how we treated each other and had nothing to do with our last names". We even joked that he was more related to my mother than I because they had the same last name. We connected on every level except the physical, he even took me to church with him. I was in love and felt blessed to have him in my life. He respected my celibacy and never tried to have sex with me, we never even kissed as it was the ultimate temptation. We stimulated each other mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Stanley was perfect. He was my man, my brother in Christ, my bestfriend. I suppose he felt the same about me  because the following summer, he proposed . I couldn't wait for him to meet my family, he was excited as well.

His proposal was perfect timing with my graduation. My entire family was coming to town to celebrate both joyous moments in my life. Stanley seemed nervous about meeting my family. I asked him to invite his father but he stated his father was vacationing but would be sure to make plans with us to meet before our wedding.

My mother, brother, and stepfather arrived and Stanley rushed out of the house to greet them. I hurried behind him. They could barely get out of the car as Stanley was anxiously shaking their hands saying "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Thomas". I was uneasy with him calling them that especially since we had discussed in great detail about all of our different last names. My mother gave him a strange look but quickly replaced it with a small on her face when she realized I caught wind of her scrunched up face. "These are my parents, this is my mother Alisha and stepfather Mr. Tilman, and this is my brother Sean." I said as I guided them all to the house. I pulled Stanley back by the arm and spoke in a soft voice not to draw attention to us. "What was that about?" I asked him. "What?" he said with an innocent guilty grin on his face. "Mr. and Mrs. Thomas" I said reminding him of his mistake. He looked at me confused and angry and continued into the house. He quickly transformed his anger into an overjoyous polite man as he made my family comfortable in our apartment.

I caught him giving my mother glances frequently, sometimes staring until my brother or stepfather would say something to break his stare. I mean she was beautiful but goodness. His behavior was so bizarre. He was not the Stanley I had grown to love and know over the past year. My mother asked for a tour of the apartment so that the men could get to know each other better but I knew it was a ploy to get me alone to mention the awkwardness of my man.

My mother and I walked in the kitchen. She giggled "he's very eager". "I know" I replied embarrassed. She continued to chuckle. "He seems like he has a good heart". I laughed with her as Stanley, my brother, and stepfather walked in the kitchen, interrupting our girl talk. "Stanley, here is going to show us the beer" my stepfather said sarcastically as if Stanley couldn't have just brought them beers like a good host would have. He was getting weirder by the second.

"Did you tell her?" he blurted out glancing back in forth between my  mother and I as if he was a puppy playing fetch and didn't know which one of us had his ball. "Tell her what?" I said confused and irritated. "Not you silly, your mother!" He said. "Hey, what's your deal?" My brother Sean said as he launched at Stanley. My stepfather calmed Sean down. "What's your problem young man?" My mother yelled confused.

"Young man?" Stanley said sounding hurt as if he were pained by her words. "You can call me son." He stated. "We won't be calling your crazy ass anything" My stepfather said ready to let Sean loose on Stanley. "What's wrong with you?" I said to Stanley confused by his actions. "I don't know sis, ask Mom. about the baby she gave up and abandoned, because she was a scared ass little girl that wouldn't want to handle her responsibilities." I was dizzy, and sick as my mother wept in guilt and sadness. She said nothing but I knew her sobs solidified that the man I had fallen in love with was my brother. Hell, they even had the same last name!


check out Katrina Franklin titles at www.lulu.com/ishopkatrinafranklin