Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

  “I’m flattered.”

  “You should be.”

  He pushed his hand into his hair, but the dark tendrils predictable returned to their positions a moment later. “You are…drunk,” he said.

  I laughed so loud the sound made me jump out of my skin. And that only made me laugh harder. A dense fog had begun to settle over me. I wasn’t entirely sure where it came from or when it set in, but there it was. There was a brief second of clarity brought on by the screeching of one of the tables as Kem labored to pull it closer to us. He unfolded a small square of wax paper and began tapping out two white lines.

  “You cannot go on stage like that. Here.”

  “Are you jealous, Kem Delgado?”

  “Jealous?”

  “I won’t be mad if you are.”

  His laugh didn’t actually come with sound, so at first, I thought I was imagining it, but nope, he was laughing at me. Or the thought of loving me…

  “Don’t laugh. I’m serious. I want you to tell me these things.”

  “Why would I be jealous?” His accent grew thicker than usual, and he kissed me quickly on the cheek. “You are free to do as you please. Just as I am.”

  “Wait. What?”

  My head was pounding. Kem was right. I couldn’t be expected to perform in my state. I couldn’t even have a simple conversation. He held out a straw for me, and the first line disappeared through it. The second was for good measure. I needed to make it through the entire set, not just the first few songs.

  “Are you busy tomorrow? Wanna have dinner at my place? Meet my people?”

  “I would love to, mami.”

  Supper was more or less done. I was putting the last touches on it when Callie said, “Mommy, where Jackie go?” The twins wanted to go everywhere Jackie went. Didn’t seem to faze them she was a good ten years older than them.

  “She’s on the porch with her friend. But y’all stay in here!”

  They froze in the midst of dashing for the door, pretending to be statues. It was for their own good. No telling what they would’ve walked in on.

  “Food ready?” Heziah strolled into the kitchen and lifted the lid on the gravy pot. He couldn’t get enough of my gravy.

  “Just about. Be nice if somebody set the table.”

  “Girls, you hear your mama?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Off they went, each cradling a stack of plates in their arms.

  Heziah turned back to me and rested his hand on the middle of my back. He ain’t have to say it. I knew. I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since the nurse called to reschedule the test.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded and moved from the stove to the fridge, pretending to search for something.

  “Pecan?”

  He’d never called me that. Not once since the day I met him. It was my daddy’s nickname for me ‘cause of how much he loved pecan pie. Ricky’d called me Pecan every day we was married. Every day that he beat me. Heziah had always called me Belinda.

  “Everything’s going to be all right. You hear me? You gotta think positive.”

  They came in from outside smelling funny. Wasn’t a smell I was familiar with, but it seemed to be coming more from Jackie than him. He hugged me warmly, and I got to see what Jackie saw in him up close and personal. A perfect smile and rich voice with a delicate accent, and he looked on my girl with such affection. Couldn’t be mad at that. They sat across from Nikki and her husband who looked more like a brother and sister that had had enough of each other.

  The seating arrangements went like this—me and Heziah in our regular spots at the ends of the table, then the twins on my right and left facing each other, Natalie and Mya, Nikki and the devil, and Jackie and Kem closest to Heziah.

  “Where’s my beautiful little niece?” Jackie asked.

  Mya chewed a forkful of greens, then added a bite of fried chicken to her mouth, swallowed and said, “She’s fine. Safe.”

  My quiet child had turned into a secretive little thing, but I thought since the ice was broken maybe she’d start bringing my grandbaby around.

  “So. How are you?” Heziah nodded to her.

  “Fine.”

  “She’s obviously hungry.” Jackie grinned. “Damn girl, leave some for the rest of us.”

  Nikki was bursting with nervous energy, like everything her sisters said brought shame upon the table. She always got like that whenever the little maniac was around. I expected her to jump up and explain Mya didn’t usually eat so fast, that she must’ve been in a hurry, but Nikki didn’t.

  Heziah was better at making conversation than I was, so he went around the table chatting up everybody until I’d built up the courage to say what I wanted to say. By then, we was on to dessert. Sweet potato pie.

  “Mama, you make the best pie.” Nat was naturally thin and never gave a thought to having a second slice.

  “Thank you, baby.”

  “Yes, everything was delicious, Mrs. Jenkins. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “You’re welcome Kem. Glad you could come.”

  Jackie beamed, batting her eyes at him. The sight of my girl so full of love brought tears to my eyes. My troubled child had finally found happiness. Once I got the others squared away, I could be at peace with whatever happened to me.

  “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. You and Jenna go on upstairs and get ready for bed. Go on now.”

  Telling the twins was gonna require a little more strength than I had at the moment. They looked over their shoulders, pouting at us, but did as they were told, and Heziah walked around the table to Jenna’s chair. He took my hand.

  “What’s wrong? Mama?”

  “My doctor found a lump in my breast.”

  Jackie started crying on the spot. Nikki took a little longer, stuttering about how medicine had come a long way and looked at the idiot she’d married for confirmation. Kem politely excused himself and the miniature fool followed his lead.

  “Why? How could this happen? Haven’t we been through enough!” Jackie didn’t have to try to be dramatic. It was her natural state of being.

  “Your mama’s gonna be just fine. She’s got a really good doctor—”

  Natalie flew across the room and threw herself in Mama’s lap. They were acting like she was dying. Wasn’t even sure if she had it yet. Besides, being sick wasn’t the same as being dead. Dead meant there wasn’t any hope. No chance of ever seeing somebody again. Hearing their voice or their laugh or seeing their smile. No chance they’d be there for the most important day of your life, the best or the worst days either. Mama wasn’t dead or dying. She probably wasn’t even sick.

  “I’m fine.” She was saying, patting Nat on the head. “I feel just fine. And the doctors gonna take some of it out next week to run some tests on it. Find out what it is.”

  “Wh-Who’s your doctor? Maybe Jean-Louis can recommend somebody. You should have the best.”

  “Yeah, Mama.”

  It was the first time Nikki and Jackie had ever agreed on anything.

  “You need anything? I can take you to your appointments, ” Nikki volunteered.

  “Me too.” Nat and Jackie chimed in.

  Nat was too young to drive and Jackie still hadn’t passed the test so I don’t know how either one thought she was gonna take anybody anywhere, but Mama seemed touched by the gesture. Heziah too, until he looked at me. His eyebrows lifted like he was expecting me to proclaim “me three!”

  “I don’t want y’all to worry. I ain’t going nowhere. I promise.”

  All the shelters I knew of closed their doors before it got dark, basically giving grown folks a curfew. Nikki was headed in my direction, so she offered to give me a ride. I told her she could drop me off at Ogden and North Avenue. I’d walk from there.

  Mama hugged us all goodbye, whispering in my ear she was glad I came. Heziah nodded his goodbye, and Jackie squeezed me so hard I ain’t think she was ever gonna let go.

  Nikki’s little man ha
d driven his ruby-red sports car. It was brand-new even though he had her driving a used Honda. I climbed into the cramped backseat and off we went.

  The two of them rattled on, putting on a good show for me and themselves. Nikki trying to prove he cared at all about what was happening to Mama. While he was set on demonstrating how much he knew about cancer treatment. They both got on my nerves after about five minutes.

  The air conditioning was on full blast. It had to be about eighty degrees outside. Darien had said he was gonna wait for me before going in the shelter, but I hoped he wouldn’t. Mia’s allergies had been acting up.

  “Mya, you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Where can we drop you?”

  I’d already told her Ogden and North Ave. I hated repeating myself.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Nikki turned all the way around to look at me.

  Her studious gaze made me feel trapped in the tiny car. I hated when people stared at me.

  “It’s okay to be upset you know…to be scared…”

  Translation. She wanted me to be scared, to be a nervous wreck, to be crying my eyes out. They all did. I was sorry to disappoint them. It wasn’t like I wanted Mama to die. I wanted her to live. I didn’t want her to go skipping off to have a fairy tale ending, but I wanted her to live.

  “Mya? You gotta make your peace with her. Now more than ever.”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  Good Shepherd Shelter closed its doors at nine o’clock, but you had to get in line hours before then. Not before five o’clock though—their way of encouraging folks to work. They gave the first one hundred people blue tickets, and you had until nine to get settled in before they locked the doors. Darien and Mia got in line at 5:05, and he talked one of the volunteers into giving him an extra ticket. Most folks didn’t need a lot of convincing that Mia wasn’t his daughter. They didn’t look anything alike. So, it was really easy for them to believe her mama was on her way.

  I got there at 8:53.

  “Mommy, what take you so long?” Mia demanded, hands on her hips. She couldn’t tell time yet, but she could read Darien pretty good, and he’d been worried.

  Good Shepherd was a decent deal. The closest we got to having any sort of privacy. Every family got its own room as long as there were at least three people in the family. The rooms put you in the mindset of a jail cell more so than a bedroom. The concrete walls were separated by five or six feet across and nine feet lengthwise. Was like sleeping in a tomb with a bunk bed. There was a sink perched on the wall with its pipes exposed and no cabinetry to speak of. Darien went down to the men’s washroom, and me and Mia took turns washing up at the sink.

  Mia stretched her hands up over her head, so I could pull off her shirt. “Mommy, if I have a little sister can we name her Candy?”

  “No.”

  “I like candy.”

  “I’ll get you a dog.” I offered without thinking as I sniffed her clothes to see if she might get away with another wear before washing them.

  “When?”

  Nope. Definitely needed to be washed. “Someday.”

  “Can I have a sister and a dog?”

  “A dog is better.” I sighed, lathering up her wash cloth.

  “But you got sisters. I want sisters too.”

  “You can borrow mine.”

  “I don’t want yours. I want mine.”

  “You can have cousins.”

  “Are they girls?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. Soon.”

  “How I get cousins?”

  “You have to be really good, and one day they’ll magically appear.”

  “Magically appear?” Her eyes grew two sizes bigger.

  “Yup.”

  I’d won. That would probably buy me a few more months before she started in again.

  I got Mia tucked in and Darien started reading to her from his collection of poetry while I got to work on our clothes. Didn’t bother separating anything. We had two bars of soap for us and one bar of laundry soap. The water wasn’t quite warm, so it didn’t really matter. By the time I’d washed everything and hung what I could on the loud radiator under the window, Mia had drifted off, snoring soundly on the top bunk, and Darien was writing in his notebook beneath her.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Fine. Mama thinks she got cancer.”

  His mouth dropped open.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Can’t be fine and have cancer at the same time, Mya. It don’t work like that.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue. Pulled my tank top over my head. Stepped outta my jeans, and tossed my underwear into the sink. A lump developed in my throat, and my palms began to burn a rosy red from rubbing the ends together so hard.

  “Mya.”

  “You gonna tell me I should be upset?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Mya?”

  “She was looking for Mia. Wanted to see her.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense.”

  I scrubbed my legs, arms. Rinsed, lathered, and started again on my middle. “Nikki cried. And Natalie. And Jackie.”

  He nodded again and closed his notebook.

  “Not me.”

  “Not you,” Darien repeated it, but he wasn’t surprised. “You don’t cry.”

  “It’s not my fault. I try.” I scrubbed between my legs and moved on to my backside. There was a humility thing some people had, I didn’t have it. I didn’t get embarrassed. I didn’t sugar coat the truth for anybody. And I hadn’t cried in years.

  He took the washcloth out of my hands and rinsed it thoroughly before wiping the soap from my body. He’d clear the foamy white suds from one section, dunk the towel in the face bowl, and start on another. When I was clean I sat down on the bottom bunk and he took his time applying the lotion. Massaging my flesh with the same tenderness he used the first time we made love.

  “She’ll be okay, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “But maybe you should try to see her more often.”

  Darien hadn’t seen his family in more than seven years, but he didn’t want that for me. Said he wished things had gone differently between them, and he didn’t want me to make the same mistakes he’d made. It was like comparing apples and oranges. Our situations were completely different. Wasn’t like his mother had murdered his father.

  “Mya, what’re you thinking?”

  The bottle of lotion was almost empty. It fell over onto its side when I placed it on the concrete floor.

  We’d waited until I was eighteen because Darien said he couldn’t make love to a child. I’d told him I was a Morrow girl. I didn’t remember being a child. But he was determined to wait. Two years of sleeping in separate rooms, separate beds, sometimes separate bedtimes. Two years and not so much as a kiss. We belonged to him, Mia and I. He’d tell anyone who dared to do us harm he would kill them where they stood first. He’d protected us. Always protected us. From prying eyes, blistering cold, and bullets. Covered my pregnant body from the same bullets that had ended Ramon’s life. I owed him everything, but for two years he made a ritual of refusing my body. So, our first time was vigorous to say the least. And every time that followed.

  “Stand up.”

  He obeyed, dropping his pants and everything else except his socks and pressed his naked body on top of mine. We kissed—hard and passionate—and within a minute, I was guiding him inside me.

  Jesse’s garage was still groove central for us. We practiced there when the club wasn’t available. And after sweating it out for six songs, the brisk air had turned steamy, and my hair had no tolerance for steamy goddamn air.

  “Come on, baby girl. You can’t change the lineup at the drop of a hat.” Jesse hated surprises. He was as persuasive as I was and used to getting his way when it came to the nuts and bolts of our performances. But I wasn’t in a compromising mindset.

  “I’m singing
, right? Well, I don’t wanna keep singing the same old songs every night. When you decide you wanna be the lead singer, then you can sing whatever you want.”

  “Now, hold on. Let’s calm down.” Clark held up both hands, shifting his weight from one butt cheek to the other on the tiny stool behind his drum set.

  “Hey, little girl. You don’t own this band!”

  “Fine! Then you don’t need me, right? You can do it on your own? Let me see you get up on stage and shake your ass and keep folks comin’ back for more!”

  Clark rose to his full height and gently tried to guide our smaller bandmate to a different corner, pleading silently with Kem to do the same for me.

  “Mami—”

  “I’m fine!” I paced from the corner of the garage that held Jesse’s tools to where his lawnmower sat doused in spider webs. “He’s the one that treats me like I belong to him! Like I’m only around to take orders! I don’t get to have an opinion! I’m not a real musician like the rest of y’all!”

  “He didn’t say that.”

  “What about our song? Don’t you wanna sing it?”

  At the other end of the garage, I thought I caught one word. Diva. Jesse was trying to convince Clark he’d been right all along. Adding a girl to the group was trouble.

  “Fine. I quit.”

  I didn’t have to scream to be heard that time.

  “You don’t mean that.” Kem looked so pained, I felt a flash of guilt, but another second and I was right back to being pissed.

  “Just wait.” He grabbed my arm as I leaned over to collect my things. “Let me talk to him.”

  The tears had already began to fall. It was too late. My heart would never feel the same. It’d been broken too many times to heal itself so easily.

  As soon as Kem turned, I slapped the garage door opener and slipped out. I was halfway down the alley before he caught up to me. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, so he insisted on driving me home. He believed that given some time to cool off everything could go back to normal. I knew better.

  “I’m going to college anyway. I won’t have time to sing.”

  His car rolled to a stop at a yellow light, and he stared at me befuddled. “Music is who you are. I don’t believe you can walk away so easily.”