Their wedding album sat on top and Gianna found herself studying the pictures closely and marveling at what she saw.
She and Justin made a beautiful couple. She wore a white, strapless, mermaid style gown. It was a simple dress with no beading or elaborate stitching, but it contrasted beautifully with her dark brown skin. Justin stood next to her, proud, happy, dark brown and handsome in his simple black tux. Kaya teared up at the pictures but she held herself together. She really was trying to be strong.
“Do you remember this?” Beverly asked. She was pointing to a picture of Justin and Gianna hugging a dolphin.
“That was...the Bahamas?”
“Yeah, but do you remember what happened?”
Kaya giggled through her tears and Gianna frowned, unable to conjure up a specific memory. “We swam with the dolphins,” she said.
Beverly snickered. “The dolphin bit you. The trainer said that was the first case at their resort in the ten years he had worked there.”
Beverly and Kaya laughed and Gianna was confused about why that was funny. “Was I hurt?”
“No, but you were mad. You wanted to sue them but you had no case. We never let you live that down.”
It was coming back to her. “We honeymooned there. I remember a little bit of that.”
“Mm-hm. Justin’s people are Bahamian. He loved the Caribbean.”
“His father’s people. I remember that, too.” Gianna paused and looked at Kaya before speaking to her mother. “Do you have any idea why his parents haven’t called or come by?”
Beverly shot a quick glance at Kaya. “K, would you please go to the cafeteria and get me a small coffee?” she asked, handing her a five dollar bill. “And get yourself something, too. Whatever you want.”
“Okay. Mommy, do you want anything?”
“No, baby, I’m okay.”
Once Kaya was safely out the door, Beverly turned back to her daughter. “What do you remember about Cathy and Russell?”
“I remember them just fine. And I wish people would stop asking me that.”
Beverly stared at her daughter and said nothing, and Gianna felt a twinge of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Beverly let it pass. “You and Cathy didn’t get along very well.”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
“It was typical in-law stuff, I suppose. You never really talked to me about it but I could sense it whenever we were all together.”
“Hmm.”
“But you and Russell were close. He asked about you, actually. At the service.”
“Do you think I should call them?”
Before Beverly could answer, Kaya came back into the room waving the five dollar bill. “The line was too long, Grandma.”
“Alright, that’s okay.”
Kaya took her usual spot on the bed and petted Gianna’s hair like she was a baby kitten. “Mommy, how are you feeling?” she asked. Her sweetness was a comfort. She was thirteen, but a really young thirteen. When Gianna was her age she was full of anger and attitude but Kaya was nothing like that. It’s strange how those things skip a generation. Nobody would ever mistake Emmy or Gianna for being sweet, while Beverly and Kaya were consistently described that way. Sweet, kind, and gentle.
“I’m fine, sweetie. How are you?” Gianna asked.
“Fine. School was fine. It’s hard to concentrate but—”
“I told her she could stay home but she wanted to go,” Beverly said.
“I like going to school. It takes my mind off of things,” Kaya said quietly.
Gianna used her fingers to smooth down Kaya’s flyaway hairs. “Whatever you wanna do is okay with me,” she told her. “If you wanna spend the whole day at school, or a half-day, or if you wanna stay home and watch TV all day—it’s fine. Whatever you want.”
“Okay,” she said, her big brown eyes rimmed with tears. Gianna pulled her closer and embraced her, rubbing her back as she sobbed quietly. For the first time since she had woken up, Gianna felt anger. And the longer she sat there comforting her daughter, the more intense her anger got. She saw red. Someone had ruined her life. Someone had ruined her daughter’s life. And she was angry. She wanted that person to die.
THE REST OF THE DAY went about as well as could be expected under the circumstances. They talked about Justin and how the two of them met at Jackson State, and then they revisited the beautiful story of how they loved each other so much they conceived Kaya before they were married. Gianna remembered that the last detail had always bothered her mother so of course she made sure to bring it up. Beverly held it together, though, and instead of ranting about sins and wedlock and God’s plan, she simply rolled her eyes and stayed silent. Progress.
Kaya pulled up Instagram on her phone and presented Gianna with her timeline, a carefully curated series of images that showed how attractive, happy, and prosperous their family was. If Gianna didn’t know the Harrises, she would think the Harrises were damn near perfect. They were black love personified, let the pictures tell it.
Gianna scrolled and scrolled. There they were on the beach, Kaya playing in the sand, Justin and Gianna posed just right. And in the gym, but before the workout because Gianna couldn’t stand sweaty gym pics. And there they were laughing in Vegas, and kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower. Of course they went to Paris. Of course. You can’t be black and middle class and not have an international stamp on your passport. It was so cliché she rolled her eyes. But above all else, they looked happy.
The three women, three generations, looked at more pictures, laughed, cried, and agreed to make more memories together. That was all they could do. No matter how fervently they thought about the past, there was no going back.
Beverly and Kaya left at around 4 to beat the traffic, a flight of fancy in metro Atlanta, and Gianna had some time to herself. She flipped through her wedding album again, relieved that she remembered everyone in the pictures.
They looked happy, she thought, although everyone is happy on their wedding day. Justin was a good-looking man. He had a rugged, raw sort of appeal, like an old school working man who uses his hands outside all day. But that wasn’t who he really was. Justin was a suit. He sold houses all day.
Gianna flashed back to their reception and the love and joy that had filled the room. They had married at Emmy’s church and had the reception at the botanical gardens. Someone had made a toast to them and called them the “Modern Day Huxtables.” The nickname stuck, and Gianna remembered that it had always struck her as strange given their ordinary middle-class life. She didn’t mind it, though, because it was flattering. It made them look good. Better than they actually were.
Gianna closed the albums and returned them to the table. She dozed until a knock at the door woke her. She called for the person to come in and was greeted with a lovely sight: her best friend Arilyn Watson.
Arilyn Watson, Esq. breezed into the room in a cloud of Chanel No. 5, her camel pea coat draped over her arm, her hair smelling like a fresh blowout and silk press, her pale pink, ruffled wrap dress billowing softly as she walked, the V-neck exposing her perfect brown décolletage. Arilyn, all 116 pounds of her, was beautiful. The type of beautiful woman other women hated. Not because she was beautiful, but because she was beautiful without trying. “Lazy pretty,” as Emmy called it. But Gianna had never been jealous of Arilyn. Gianna wasn’t no slouch.
The two hugged and cried and Arilyn apologized for not coming sooner. Gianna handwaved it away like the empty platitude that it was. Arilyn had her own way of doing things, a way that rubbed most people the wrong way. But once you got to know her, she...well, she was still weird. Born and raised in Decatur (where it’s greater), she presented like your typical southern black girl. And then she opened her mouth and you realized something was off.
Gianna had never tried to diagnose her best friend, and as far as she knew, no licensed professional had ever done so, either. But Arilyn was definitely not normal, whatever that meant. She didn’t ju
st like order and routine, she needed them like a man in the desert needs water. Any disruption or deviation from her pre-established plans sent her spiraling out of control. And Lord help the person who tried to make that girl do anything she didn’t want to do, a lesson Gianna learned quite well when she was pregnant with Kaya.
See, Arilyn hates kids. And while Gianna knew about that, she had assumed Arilyn would make an exception for her baby. After all, they were best friends. Right?
Wrong. They asked Tremaine first and he happily accepted the honor of being Kaya’s godfather. Then they sat down with Arilyn, bestowed that honor upon her, and waited for her tearful acceptance. Instead, they got this: “No, thank you. I don’t like children.”
Both Justin and Gianna frowned, certain there must be a mistake. “But it’s not just any child,” Gianna explained, “it’s our child. We’re your best friends.”
Arilyn was intractable. “I don’t like children. And honestly, I resent that you even asked me. You already know how I feel.”
Justin later asked Gianna what on earth she saw in Arilyn, a terrible friend if there ever was one. Gianna was hurt but deep down, she knew Arilyn was right. She had taken a shot hoping Arilyn would make an exception, but Arilyn didn’t make exceptions. And what Justin didn’t understand was that Arilyn really was a good friend. She was fierce and she was loyal, but she was also set in her ways. Once you accepted her quirks and took her for who she was, Arilyn was a treat. Like the creamy nougat center of a candy bar. Gianna couldn’t quit her even if she wanted to.
Arilyn sat in the chair under the television and glanced at the table. “Are those your wedding albums?”
“Yeah, my mom brought a bunch of pictures to help jog my memory.”
“Yeah, about that. So you really have amnesia? Like, for real?”
Gianna nodded. “For real.”
“Goodness. What about physically? Are you in pain?”
“A little.”
“I was so worried about you.” Despite the sadness on her face, Arilyn’s beauty was still apparent. She didn’t have a stitch of makeup on other than clear lip gloss and she still could have graced the cover of a magazine right then and there.
“I’m fine,” Gianna said, trying to reassure her friend.
“You don’t look fine. Your face is still swollen and you have a huge bruise right here,” she said, gesturing at her right eye. “It hurts just to look at you.”
Gianna sighed. “I’m just thankful to be alive.”
“How are you dealing with...you know. Justin passing.” She was the second person to refer to what happened to Justin as “passing.” It was as if people were afraid to say he was murdered. As if they would catch it or something.
“I don’t know. I think I’m in shock. I haven’t cried much. Yet. It just doesn’t feel real right now. I keep thinking he’s gonna walk through the door.”
Arilyn poked out her bottom lip in sympathy before grabbing one of the wedding albums. “Do you remember the wedding?”
“Oh yeah, I remember all that stuff just fine. It’s the more recent stuff I don’t remember.”
She flipped through the pages. “I haven’t looked at these in years. It was so beautiful.”
“It was. And wild.”
Arilyn’s head snapped up and her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Gianna. Please don’t talk about it.”
Despite the somber mood, Gianna let a giggle escape. “I’m not saying anything. I’m keeping my promise.”
And it was for the best because the Harris wedding weekend in Nassau was like late 90s Freaknik. Arilyn had slept with not one, but two of Justin’s groomsmen. Simone and Keesa, two of Gianna’s bridesmaids, had a threesome with Tremaine. Imani, her matron of honor, was on the island with her husband Taz but they didn’t let that stop their fun: Imani let Hassan, a groomsman, go down on her and Taz got a lap dance and a happy ending from the stripper at Justin’s bachelor party. It was ironic; the only people who didn’t have wild, unbridled sex that weekend were the bride and groom.
Gianna could still see it in her mind. The liquor-soaked walks of shame to the rehearsal dinner tables. The guilt and embarrassment, particularly from the women. The lack of eye contact between them all. There was an unspoken promise that nobody would tell and that what happened there was staying on the island. Separately, however, every single one of them had told either Gianna or Justin that it was the most fun they had ever had.
Anyone would have seen it coming. All those attractive black folks together at a resort on a warm tropical island, some of whom were members of a fraternity that prided itself on being skilled in the art of cunnilingus—of course shenanigans were afoot.
Arilyn was smiling now, probably thinking fondly about her walk on the wild side. She was still single and dating so she had plenty of time to play around. Gianna, on the other hand, had always regretted her relative lack of sexual experience. Even Emmy had advised her to have a hoe year—though not in those exact terms—but the truth was, Gianna had been a late bloomer with a Bible-thumping mother. She wasn’t a virgin when she got with Justin but it would have been nice to have sampled a bit more of the menu before letting herself get locked into one meal for the rest of her life.
Arilyn closed the album and returned it to the stack. “Justin’s service was really nice.”
“I heard.”
Gianna studied her best friend. Arilyn was staring at her hands, her expression unreadable. “What’s wrong?”
Arilyn looked at her friend and took a deep breath. “Your mom told me your recent memories are gone.”
“Yeah.”
“So like...the last month or so, you can’t remember?”
“Something like that. Why?”
Arilyn crossed her arms, almost as if she was holding herself. “I need to tell you something and I don’t want you to get upset.”
“Oh God, what is it now? I swear it seems like every time somebody comes to visit, there’s just more bad news and it makes me feel worse.”
“I’m sorry, G. I really hate to do this to you, but there’s something you need to know.”
CHAPTER FIVE
ARILYN STUTTERED SEVERAL times, and each time she took a moment to compose herself. Gianna wondered what fresh hell was about to be revealed. Had someone else died? Was Gianna dying? Was Arilyn dying? She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
“I...I’m only bringing this up because I know they’re still trying to figure out who did this and they said any information would help. You can tell them or not, it’s your decision, but I think you should know.”
Gianna shifted in the bed. Her back got sore when she stayed in one spot. “Please just tell me. You’re making me nervous.”
“Okay. Sorry.” Arilyn took a deep breath. “A few weeks ago, or maybe a month ago...wait, hold on.” Gianna watched breathlessly as Arilyn pulled her planner from her Neverfull and flipped through the pages. “Yes, it was exactly 34 days ago. You called me and told me you...were seeing somebody.”
Gianna blinked rapidly. “What does that mean? Seeing somebody?”
“You were cheating on Justin.”
“Are you serious?” It was impossible. She would never. They were the modern-day Huxtables, after all, and it had been love at first sight. For Justin, anyway.
Gianna was dating another guy at the time. Roderick was his name. And poor Roderick made the mistake of being too busy studying for midterms to accompany her to a party Justin’s frat was throwing. He spotted her across the room and although there was no rom-com meet-cute, it could have been a scene out of a mediocre movie. They danced, he asked for her number, she said no, and then he tracked her down and pursued her anyway. After about a month, she finally agreed to a date. So it was out of a mediocre stalker movie.
They bonded over their mutual love of R&B music and took their broke asses to every concert they could afford, drinking and slow dancing and kissing and singing along from the nosebleeds. When Gianna brought him home, Emm
y liked him right away. That almost never happened.
Junior year started off with a bang, literally, and Gianna discovered she was pregnant. Emmy was appalled because she thought it was an accident. Beverly was angry because she thought Gianna did it on purpose. Both would have preferred it the other way.
It all worked out in the end. They got married and were on the path to their happily ever after. She loved him, and she would have never cheated. She was sure of it. But Arilyn had no reason to lie. She never lied. Ever. Lying wasn’t orderly.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” Arilyn said, her voice low.
“Why would I cheat on him?”
“That’s the same thing I asked when you told me.”
“And what did I say?”
“That he made you happy.”
Gianna shook her head. “This doesn’t make sense. Did I say who it was?”
“You didn’t give me a name. I asked and you said you couldn’t tell me just yet. And I was mad about that because it’s kinda rude to bring up a subject with someone and then only give them half the details. So I didn’t call you for a whole week after that and then this happened.”
Classic Arilyn. Gianna thought for a moment. “Did you tell anybody?”
“I haven’t told anyone besides you.” She paused. “So who was it?”
Gianna searched and searched but there were no faces. Just a black void. “I can’t remember.”
Arilyn frowned and hugged herself tighter. “This is so weird.”
“I know. It’s eerie. I feel like I’m living somebody else’s life but it’s a nightmare and I can’t wake up.” Tears filled her eyes. “Why would I cheat on my husband?”
“Is there ever a good reason?”
“I guess not.” Gianna thought for a moment. “What was our relationship like toward the end? Me and Justin?”
I Will Remember You Page 3