The timing was never right. How and when would I ever tell Karin the way I really felt? She needed to know or this could turn foul. Really foul.
I was a junior when I transferred to Mapleley College, home of the Gold Miners. I never thought I'd be accepted into such a prestigious HBCU school, but I still remember that day when my acceptance letter came in.
"Look what I got!" My mom flashed a regular-sized envelope in my face as I sat at the kitchen buffet chomping down a grilled cheese sandwich with two hot pickle skewers on the side.
I grabbed the letter. Mapleley College, I thought. I hesitated before I opened it. My mind started to wonder: What if I didn't get accepted? What if my admissions essay wasn't good enough? What if the chairman of the department of African-American Studies thought I wasn't ready for such a major? Fear gripped my heart. I put the envelope down on the counter.
"Well—" my mom looked at me, bucking her eyes, pointing at the envelope with an open palm. "—are you gonna open it?"
"Yeah..." I picked up my grilled cheese trying to play off my sense of uneasiness. I was downright nervous and I was trying not to show it. But it was obvious.
"Boy, open up the letter and quit being dramatic."
I took one more bite of the grilled cheese sandwich and then a big bite out of the hot dill pickle skewer. I grabbed the envelope and placed my thumb under the sealed flap, tearing open either my acceptance or rejection. I swallowed hard. I pulled out the trifold paper. I began to read...
I placed the letter down on the table and took another bite out of my sandwich.
"Well—" my mom looked at me with her arms folded. I tried to mask my feelings.
I slid the trifold paper toward her on the counter. She immediately picked it up and began to read aloud, "Dear Mr. Garret Brown, Congratulations! Mapleley College would like to welcome you to the Gold Miner family..." she stopped reading and started jumping up and down hollering thank you Jesus and Oh Lord, God, thank you!
She came and hugged my neck, literally my neck. My mom was my rock. She was my confidante. She was my girl.
