Witcha Broke: Juniper Beautie Series, #1

By Tondeleya Allen

***This book contains some adult language.

 

Jackie Spencer, a 30-year-old late bloomer, dreams of being a writer. Drowning in the shadow of her sisters' success and their mother's overbearing judgement, she struggles to find her way. A constant disappointment to her mother, the last thing Jackie ever wanted to do was move back home.

 

Witcha Broke ***, a Black Southern drama, (Book 1 of 3) takes a brutally honest look at the harsh reality many adult children face when life doesn't go as planned.

What do you do when your mother's broken? What do you do when she's given up on you? How long do you wait for her to love you? How do you summon the courage to rely on faith and perseverance to achieve your breakthrough?

 

Gripping and compelling, Witcha Broke ***  will inspire you to never give up hope.

 

***A satisfied reader described Witcha Broke *** as "A Riveting, Awesome Read" then concluded, "Although the ending was acceptable- i.e. not a cliffhanger- I do hope there is a book 2 and book 3 to continue Jackie's literary & emotional fulfillment journey."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tondeleya Allen
• Release date: Mar 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201657628

Tondeleya Allen

Quick note from Author: "I'm God's girl. The characters, events, and thoughts in my writing are not always squeaky clean because real, imperfect people, although striving, never are. I strive to tell honest stories about authentic people in the most genuine way possible. And despite messy bumps along the way, I love happy, uplifting endings." Recovering chocoholic, eternal optimist, and home-schooling mother of three beautiful daughters and one handsome son, Tondeleya Allen loves to inspire and motivate people, especially women, to be their best, to believe in themselves, and to live the dreams God has placed in their hearts, regardless of their current situation. She believes that marriages can be like a piece of heaven on earth, when we center them around Christ. She believes that women were made to manifest God's love in every area of their lives, making everything around them more beautiful. She believes that positive, affirming words are like liquid gold. When we use the power of our words, we can transform our lives and create a more beautiful world. She enjoys crafting stories, reading, baking, cooking, gardening, saving money, upcycling, making jewelry, sewing, anything creative, and spending time with her family.

Book preview

Chapter One

"Y ou know our oldest just got that raise yesterday.  So, you know she happy.  She only been with that company for five years.  And she’s already the top rep in her department, Valerie boasted.  I’m surprised she ain’t called you yet."

Nah, she ain’t called me.  Last time I talked to her was last Friday, Larry admitted.

"You know she get to that money like her mama. That girl’s on her way to the top."

Larry’s laugh rang out from Valerie’s speakerphone. How my baby girl, how Van doing?

Oh, Miss Vanessa called me about an hour ago.  She packing.  Got a big assignment in New York for a fashion shoot.

She got a ride to the airport?

Yeah, her boyfriend gonna drop her off on his way to work.

Good, good.  How Jackie doing?

Valerie rolled her eyes to heaven and exhaled hard, as though she might be in distress.  "Breathing my air, eating my food.  And getting on my last damn nerves, with her broke ass."

Val, I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.  What if she hears you?

"Lawrence, I don’t give a damn who hears me. What does that mailbox outside say?  574 Rupert Lane. I run this. Anybody don’t like it, they can take they broke ass on. You paid child support ‘til they turned eighteen.  Hell, she thirty and had to move her broke ass back in here last month. Can barely keep a gotdamn job. And still talking ‘bout being a damn writer."

Val, sometimes folks are just late bloomers.  We just got us a late bloomer, that’s all.

"No, what we got is a bitch who think I’m gonna take care of her for the rest of her life.  I only let her move back in here to get her out of Lanette’s house.  It ain’t fair for Lanette to have to carry her.  And if her broke ass don’t get a job soon, I’ma put all her shit in a plastic bag and send her over there with you and your new wife."

"Val, new wife?  Me and Bev been married for twelve years now."

While Valerie talked Larry’s ear off about their middle daughter’s many shortcomings, Jackie had come down to the kitchen to make a turkey and tomato sandwich.  Refrigerator door wide open, Jackie stood frozen, quietly listening to her mother, too paralyzed to ever defend herself. Her emotions zigged and zagged like lightning touching down. No matter how many times she heard her mother’s tirades concerning her, the heart-wrenching pain always cut the same.

Sandwich-plan abandoned, Jackie quietly escaped to the tiny childhood bedroom she once shared with her sisters, purposefully avoiding the third creaky step on the staircase.

The modest bedroom housed the same bunkbeds she and Vanessa used to share. One solitary window faced the street, providing natural light that highlighted the faded pink walls.  There beneath the window sat a small, pine flat-top hope chest, home to all Jackie’s journals and precious writings.  Often Jackie found inspiration and comfort sitting there gazing out the window.

A white vintage chest of drawers separated the bunkbeds and Lanette’s bed. Jackie briefly stood there in the doorway staring at Lanette’s full-sized bed, still in pristine condition.  The wall above the bed was covered with Lanette’s beauty pageant sashes, ribbons, awards, and pennants. Big ruffle pillows and all the stuffed animals Lanette had collected through the years, were a painful reminder to Jackie that she was not her mother’s favorite.

Jackie’s mother, Valerie, had given her clear orders that no one else was allowed to sleep in Lanette’s bed.  Lanette had moved out ten years earlier. And the bed had remained untouched since then.

Jackie sat on the bottom bunk that had always been hers.  Underneath, she stored some of her favorite books and her second-hand laptop.  She pulled out the laptop, placing it on her lap, and looked over to the mini-framed photos on the chest of drawers.

The photo of her Grandma Belle transported Jackie to when she was only three years old.  On countless visits to Grandma Belle’s house, while the other children played outside, Jackie could be found up in her grandmother’s room alone.  Grandma Belle’s house always smelled like fresh gardenia blossoms. There on Grandma Belle’s soft bed covered with a dotted chenille bedspread, Jackie would sit with her grandmother’s big Bible, pages edged with gold.

Jackie wanted to know, Grandma Belle, what do all these squiggly lines mean?

Grandma Belle smiled and answered, Child, those are words.

"Words?"

"They tell a story.  People use words to share what happened.  They put them in books, so everyone will know."

"Can I tell stories and put them in books, Grandma?"

"Of course, you can child."

From that point on, Jackie’s love affair with words and books began to take root. Somehow, she knew that words would play a vital role in her life.

Jackie cherished every lovely memory of her grandmother.  Grandma Belle was her favorite person.  Fair-skinned, she was a tall, full-figured woman.  Had a smile that gave a sunny day competition.  Her long, wavy salt-and-pepper hair and high cheekbones gave away her Cherokee ancestry.  The quintessential Southern woman, her speech flowed smooth and rich like sweet Alaga syrup. A God-fearing woman, Grandma Belle had been a true widow for at least five years by the time Jackie was born.

Every first Sunday, Grandma Belle took Jackie to church.  Dressed in a white hand-smocked dress, white nylon slip, and matching white, ruffle socks, Jackie carried a little blue tambourine. And every first Sunday, Grandma Belle gave Jackie two quarters, one for the collection plate and one for butter cookies.  Carefully, Jackie would place the coins in her small patent leather pocket book that Grandma Belle insisted every Southern lady should carry.

By the time Jackie began school, she knew every letter of the alphabet and could write her full name, Jacqueline Bella Turner.  One day during the first week of school, Jackie informally met a girl named Paula Ann Wright, who could already read on a first-grade level.  Paula Ann’s teacher proudly escorted her from classroom to classroom boasting and showing all the other kindergarten teachers this amazing, genius-child.  Paula Ann Wright’s teacher said, Paula Ann, read this book.

On Jackie’s next visit to her grandmother’s house, she shared the incident with Grandma Belle, recounting how sad it had made her feel.  "Grandma, she can already read.  I wanna read like that."

And you will.  Just takes patience and practice.  Baby, don’t worry, I’ll help you.

Jackie’s young eyes beamed.  I can’t wait.

If anyone could understand Jackie’s burning desire to read it would have been Grandma Belle.  After all, she and her schoolmates learned to read behind the church schoolhouse by secretly piecing together love notes their teachers had torn and tossed in the wastepaper basket.

That year, all the way up to Christmas, Jackie worked hard learning to read. With Grandma Belle’s patient help, she trained like an Olympic athlete.  She read cereal boxes, bug spray, and every spice bottle in Grandma Belle’s cupboard.  Reading everything she could get her hands on, Jackie promised herself that Paula Ann Wright would never out-read her again.

When reading becomes your favorite way to pass the day, words become your best friends.  In sixth grade, Jackie won the LJ Price Middle School spelling bee. Winning word: heirloom.  To celebrate, Grandma Belle made cheeseburgers with hand-cut French fries. For dessert, Jackie’s favorite sweet bread with vanilla pecan frosting.

The school librarian once remarked, You trying to set a new record in school?  Jackie, you’ve pretty much read darn near every book in this library.

While most folks dreamed of getting their driver’s license on their sixteenth birthday, Jackie was just as eager to apply for her library card for the big public library in downtown Atlanta.

Overcome by her childhood memories, Jackie stood up from her bunkbed and walked over to her hope chest.  As she had done countless times before, she sat down and peered through the window, staring at the empty street below.  Reflecting on her life, she now wondered how she ended up back in her childhood bedroom, thirty years old with little money and few prospects.  She wondered if she was any of those ugly things her mother purported her to be and if her passion had blinded her to reality.

Jackie glanced over at Lanette’s bed. She thought, Wow, Lanette’s only two years older, but her life and career seem to be light-years ahead of mine.

Without question, Lanette was beautiful.  Full Coke-bottle figure.  Check. Hazel-brown eyes. Check. Flawless skin, smooth as cappuccino. Check. Full-lips. Check. Shoulder-length hair. Check. All their mother’s love. Check.

Lanette had always been dangerously fierce.  Boys were always coming around asking about her, vying for her attention.  Even Lanette’s high-school male teachers took notice of her stunning beauty.

In high-school, Jackie never fit in like her sister.  Lanette wasn’t a brainiac, but she was smart. She studied enough to do well on exams.

Lanette graduated with a partial scholarship to attend Spelman.  Their mother, Valerie, proudly paid the balance of the tuition to her alma mater.  Lanette continued to blossom at Spelman, even achieving the title Miss Spelman before graduating.  Then, she landed a great-paying job as a junior rep for a tech firm.

Jackie’s baby sister, Vanessa, who was affectionately known as Van, was a social magnet.  Funny, she was the life of any party. We’re talking spit-out-your soda funny. Vanessa’s middle name might as well have been style. Whatever graced the pages of fashion magazines, she had it. Whenever she stepped out, she looked like a million dollars, hair laid, nails done, and clothes on point.  When Vanessa went to high-school, Jackie went from being Lanette’s little sister to "oh, you’re Vanessa’s sister." Their mother was so proud. Vanessa was also their parents’ make-up baby.  Make-up from what, you ask? One of Valerie and Larry’s many break-ups.

Jackie’s dad, Larry Robert Turner, Sr. and Valerie had been together since high-school. He was a year older than Valerie. After high-school, he enlisted in the Army, where he served one-and-a-half years in Oklahoma and two-and-a-half years in Frankfurt, Germany. After completing his tour of duty, he knew the White man’s Army was no place for him.

Once he returned stateside, he immediately started working at the post office. Enrolling in night-school, he worked toward his bachelor’s degree.  Twenty-four years down, with only twelve months until his retirement party.

Larry and Valerie’s relationship had been complicated, to say the least. By the time Jackie was ten, Larry had moved out of the home, only coming by to see the girls, drop off some money, or grab a piece of clothing. Larry loved his girls. So, he moved just fifteen minutes down the road, to be as close as possible.

Larry loved Valerie, but she was loud and too damn pushy. She knew everything and wanted everything. Larry, on the other hand, preferred sitting in his recliner, watching a Falcon’s game, while reaching for a cold Coca-Cola.

Valerie, on the other hand, was a five-foot-six curvaceous Black woman with more ambition than anybody in the room. She was born in Columbus, Georgia, but was raised in Atlanta. When Valerie was seven-years-old, Grandma Belle relocated her three children, Valerie, and her older brothers, Douglass and Edward, to Atlanta, seeking a better life.

Valerie never met a mirror she didn’t like. A day without receiving compliments on her good looks was rare. As the baby and her mother’s only daughter, she was no stranger to attention. All through high-school she knew she preferred the finer things in life. Acquiring a high-paying job with benefits was the first step. After marrying Larry and graduating from Spelman, she landed an entry-level position at Emory University Hospital.

Now an administrator, Valerie had been on the job as long as Larry had been carrying mail. Her co-workers loved her sense-of-style and humor. She had an anecdote for every hour of the day.

Valerie was always put-together. She may have coined the term hot mess. Lanette, Jackie, and Vanessa could always gauge her mood according to her Val-isms.  Val-ism number one: Don’t make no sense, leaving the house looking any kind of way. Val-ism number two: Don’t be out here actin’ bama. Apologies to anyone from Alabama.  In Valerie’s mind, bama encompassed anything that she deemed not of the highest social quality. Val-ism number three: At 574 Rupert Lane, I’m the only boss-chick.  Val-ism number four: Don’t act like Valerie Turner didn’t try to teach you to get to some money. Val-ism number five: Witcha broke ass.

Anyone who had known Valerie for more than ten minutes, has heard the phrase witcha broke ass. She could broke-ass somebody to death. How the hell they afford a new car?  Didn’t her husband just get laid off? Wit’ his broke ass or How the hell is she going on vacation? Been off work for three days, wit’ her broke ass. Valerie could go on and on for days about people and they broke asses." To Valerie, not having money was a cardinal sin.

Valerie and Larry had been divorced more than ten years. In Valerie’s eyes, Larry didn’t have enough ambition or drive to attain the lifestyle she desired. She loved him and considered him her best friend. Even with all the male attention she received, Larry was her true love.

Larry’s wife, Beverly, was the only woman who had ever taken away something she loved. That’s why she couldn’t stand her or the mention of her name. Don’t say nothing about Beverly Johnson, Beverly Hills, or Beverly Hillbillies around Valerie. Slip up and expect a tirade you won’t soon forget. The year Valerie learned that Larry and Beverly were expecting a child was the year of agony. Valerie vowed that she would never let this kind of heartache make her lose sight of her true goal, having the life she believed she deserved.

Valerie knew she was better-looking than Beverly. Beverly couldn’t hold a candle to her sense of style.

"So, how did this heifer steal my man? I had her in my house, at every barbecue. Everybody told me to watch her. And I remember saying to myself, ‘Larry ain’t got no reason to cheat on me. I cook. I clean. I drop it like it’s hot when I have to. I’m pleasing him and going to work. Hell, I’m every woman. What more could he want?’"

Jackie always felt caught in the middle.  Not as beautiful as her older sister Lanette or as popular as her younger sister Vanessa. However, she earned good grades in school and excelled in her first love, literature. She enjoyed reading Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, Thoreau, and Chopin, but she shared an undeniable connection to women authors who were Black like her. 

The work of Zora Neale Hurston, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and Pearl Cleage inspired her. Black girls making a living, a difference in the world with the power of their words fed her dream of joining their esteemed ranks, some kind of way.  But in her mother’s house, if it didn’t pay the bills, it got no play.

Smugly, her mother always pointed out, "How many Black authors you see living around here?  How many Black authors is actually living good? And Jackie always provided the same four names, Zora Neale Hurston, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and Terry McMillan.  Then, her mother would point out, That’s just four women out of a million Black women in Atlanta. You’re gonna be unemployed, broke, waiting for me to feed your ass.  Jackie, you gonna have to get a job."

Despite Valerie’s views on the subject, Jackie won full scholarships to attend Agnes Scott College, Emory University, and Spelman College.  Then a strange thing happened. Jackie fell in love with Kenneth Spencer, the popular six-foot-four, slender co-captain of the basketball team. They met in English class. She tutored him, helping him pass his finals, so he could play in the big game.

Kenneth was taken by her soft-spoken and quiet beauty. This was a first for Jackie. Kenneth paid attention to her, while everyone else just seemed to overlook her.  Kenneth was impressed by her intellect, as well as her naivete to real-life. Each