Holy Mother of Debra (Chapter 4)

                The day after, Debra's mother brought her kids to the hair salon in hopes to convince Debra to change up her hairstyle. She made Debra sit down in one of the chairs next to a stout stylist while she stood next to her daughter. Her son was sitting in the waiting section with the patient others, trying to make conversation with the older women.

                "Are you sure you don't want to go back to your natural hair color?" asked Debra's mother.

                "Yes, I'm sure," responded Debra.

                "But you look good as a brunette."

                "And I look good as a redhead."

                "But your carpet needs to match the drapes. And if you're gonna have red drapes, you need to dye your carpet red. Then you'll become a fire crotch."

                Debra scrunched her forehead. "Uh, no one is going to see my carpet, mother, so I don't think I have to dye it red."

                "Do you at least want it a different color? Like blonde? Like me?" Her mother pulled on her long, curly, honey-colored hair.

                "I'm good."

                "What do you want, sweetie?" asked the nice-haired stylist.

                "Whatever's good, I guess. Just don't wash it."

                As the stylist picked up a thin comb from the dresser in front of them and began to groom Debra's short, red hair, her mother stood by to keep pestering her with questions.

                "So how's your relationship with Kyle?"

                "It's good," answered Debra. "It's strong. I really like him."

                "So... what's up with that?"

                "What's up with what?"

                "I don't know. Have you always had an interest in Asian people?"

                Debra scrunched her eyebrows. "Uh, I've always had an interest in all people."

                "But why did you choose him?"

                "Not because he's Asian."

                "So you know?"

                "I'm not blind, mother. It's obvious but I don't care. He's sweet and creative and passionate. We have a lot in common."

                "Okay, okay. You like him now. Do you see yourself ever going back?"

                "Back to where?"

                "You know. You're gonna end up with a black man, right?"

                Debra turned around, perturbing the stylist who became indecisive on whether to keep combing her hair. "Mom, I can't believe you're even asking me that," Debra said, angrily yet quiet. "You're gonna resent Kyle because he's not black?"

                "No, I'm not gonna resent him. You can have an Asian boyfriend... but not for a long time."

                "Oh, my osh bekosh." Debra looked away for a second. "I am not going to end up with someone just because of his race. I'm going to end up with them because they're the one and I love them. I really like my Asian boyfriend. I mean my regular boyfriend. He's my boyfriend. Just my boyfriend. And I'm not going to dump him to please you."

                "I'm not saying you have to dump him. But if you stay with him, I'll--"

                "You'll what? Stop spending time with us? I honestly don't care if we spend time at all."

                "Who the frick is you to talk to me like that?!"

                "Hey, mom," said Leroy after approaching the ladies. "Can I borrow a few dollars? I'm not gonna spend it; I just need it to make me look rich."

                "What kind of reason is that?"

                "There's this... girl that I'm trying to impress and I need some extra swag."

                "When you say, 'girl', you mean 'grown woman'? Leroy, cut it out. If you're going to have a girlfriend, shouldn't she be your age?"

                "Mom, he does have a girlfriend," said Debra. "She just doesn't exist."

                "Why are you bullying your brother?"

                "Yeah, why you doggin' me?" asked Leroy.

                "I'm not trying to dog or bully anyone," defended Debra. "I'm just reacting to the dysfunction before my eyes. And I'm questioning myself why do you want to hang out with us?"

                "No, you should ask yourself why you don't want to hang out with me," said her mother.

                "Why don't you want to hang out with mom?" queried Leroy. "I love spending all this time with her. Everywhere we go, we're surrounded by the finest honeys."

                "She never hangs out with us," said Debra. "And all of a sudden, she pops up and starts spending time with us. But she's taking us to places that she wants to go to, not where we want to go to. I don't know about you but I'm not down with that. Like what is the deal, mom?"

                "The deal is I wanted to spend time with the family I love," responded her mother.

                "Th-This isn't going to be like that Tyler Perry movie, is it?"

                "No! I was just trying to be nice to you and give you the things you deserve."

                "But I don't want that. I swear, mother, what is up?"

                Her mother sighed, dropping her big chest down. "Alright. You want to know? Last week, I paid a visit to the doctor and he found a lump in my breast. He said it might be cancer. Like breast cancer."

                "You have breast cancer, mom?" Leroy inquired. His eyes became a puppy dog's and his lips almost dropped into a pout.

                "I'm not sure yet. I have another appointment with him in a few days. Later, I'll know for sure. Are you two alright?"

                Debra nodded her head. "Yeah, no, it's terrible. It's terrible that you might have breast cancer and that you're using it as an excuse to see us when you should have been seeing us after the divorce."

                Debra got up from the rotisserie chair and stormed out of the hair salon. Her mother and brother stared at the door before looking at each other.