Beverly shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m just praying. That’s all I know how to do.” Gianna squeezed her hand before letting it go. It wasn’t a bad idea. She said her own silent prayer, asking God to be good and to spare the woman who meant so much to her. She didn’t think it was a lot to ask.
They waited, and waited, and waited, turning to their phones for a respite. At long last, a doctor approached them with a somber look on his face.
“Ms. Stokes. I can say definitively that your mother had a stroke.”
“How is she now?” Beverly asked. Gianna rushed to her mother’s side and Kaya looked up from her phone.
“I’m afraid I have bad news. She wasn’t seen right away and unfortunately, her brain was deprived of oxygen for quite a while. She’s on life support right now.”
“Oh my God,” Gianna said, sobs rising and violently exiting her body. Tremaine rushed over and put his hand on her back and Beverly blinked rapidly as if she didn’t understand. “Will she get better?”
“I’m afraid there was too much damage. Ms. Stokes, you’ll need to execute her wishes. If you decide to keep her on life support, I have to warn you that she will likely remain in a vegetative state indefinitely.”
“She would never want that,” Gianna said through her tears. To keep a woman that vain in such an undignified state would be almost criminal. Everyone knew it.
Beverly nodded. “It’s true, she wouldn’t.” The doctor put a hand on Beverly’s shoulder. “You all should discuss this amongst yourselves. Ms. Stokes, you’ll need to fill out some forms. I’ll have the nurse bring them to you.”
Beverly nodded. Gianna hadn’t seen her cry, yet, and that surprised her. She thought back to her conversation with Emmy about Beverly being stronger than she let on.
In the end, there was no need for discussion. The decision was made. Anyone who knew Emily Dash knew she would hate to live that way. This was a woman who prided herself on her independence and self-sufficiency. The only debatable issue was whether to wait and pull the plug after Emmy’s other kids got there or to do it now. They would want to say goodbye, but what if Emmy was in pain? Just the thought filled Gianna with sadness.
In the end, Beverly agreed to wait for Odell who had been closest to Emmy. He was a little under three hours away and would be there by sunrise.
IT WAS 5:43 WHEN UNCLE Odell ran down the hall. Gianna was sleeping on Tremaine’s shoulder. He nudged her awake. “Is that your family?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She rose to her feet and smiled. She hadn’t seen Odell in at least a year. But her smile faded when she saw him. His shoulders slumped and his face was contorted with grief. He was in agony and couldn’t get any words out. All he could do was hug Beverly and then Gianna, who felt like she was holding him up. They led him into Emmy’s room and he collapsed onto the chair closest to her bed. Gianna couldn’t watch but she didn’t want to leave. She stood in the corner, bawling silently, while Odell whispered in his mother’s ear. Beverly rubbed his back, and although she still wasn’t crying, the look on her face was nothing short of complete anguish. Gianna had never seen it before, not even when her father left. Not even when Robert left.
She stayed in her safe spot in the corner and waited for the inevitable. Odell finally left and Beverly turned to Gianna. “I’ll leave you alone,” she said, and it was the nicest thing she could have done at the moment.
Gianna approached the bed slowly, not wanting to look upon her grandmother’s face. She wanted to remember her as she had been just two days ago, vibrant and happy. Gianna wondered if there would ever come a time when she forgot Emmy’s face. She prayed she would always remember, even offering to sacrifice other memories if it meant keeping Emmy’s.
She finally reached the chair and decided she owed it to Emmy to be strong. She looked and it wasn’t as bad as she was expecting. Emmy looked peaceful. Her face seemed to sag a little and her hair was messy but it was still her Emmy lying there. Her vision blurred from tears, she grabbed Emmy’s hand and held it in hers.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I don’t even know how to say goodbye. I didn’t think this day would come, at least not this soon. I’m gonna miss you so much.” She sobbed and fought to catch her breath. “You took me in and raised me, and I owe everything that’s good in my life to you. I love you so much, Emmy. You’re one of a kind and I will never be the same without you. I’ll never forget you.” She pressed Emmy’s hand against her cheek and said a silent prayer that she wasn’t in pain, that she was at peace, and that she would make it to heaven.
Gianna rose and left the room. Tremaine stood right outside and as soon as she saw him, she collapsed against him and wailed. He held her firmly against him and rubbed her gently, and she allowed the sound of his heartbeat to soothe her. He rested his face on top of her head, lifting it intermittently to kiss her forehead. She wasn’t sure how much time passed but by the time she opened her eyes again, it was official. Emmy was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE SKY WAS OVERCAST, a rather lackluster shade of grey, and the air was thick with humidity. It was the perfect day for a funeral, if there is such a thing. Emmy would have wanted the most depressing spectacle possible. Other people mourning her death would have given her much pleasure.
The family met at Beverly’s townhouse before the homegoing. Some ate breakfast—eggs, waffles, and turkey bacon, all cooked by Beverly—and others, just coffee. Gianna didn’t eat a bite despite both her mother and Tremaine hounding her about it. She was losing weight but there was nothing to be done. Her appetite was non-existent.
She had wrestled with the idea of letting Tremaine escort her to the funeral. She knew there would be questions and concerns and she wasn’t in the mood. But in the end, her needs won out over her fears. Tremaine was her rock and that was all there was to it. If anyone had anything to say about it they could kiss her black ass.
In some ways, this was their debut, their official coming out. Was her grandmother’s funeral the best place for it? No, but she needed him. That was that.
The limousines arrived promptly at 11 am and they caravanned to the church. Emmy’s pastor was older then she was and barely looked like he would last the whole service without keeling over. Pastor Melvin was a good man.
The mother board was there in their crisp whites, ready with handkerchiefs and fans and snacks just in case somebody fell out. The deacon board did the ushering. They were all old, too.
Gianna hadn’t been inside the church since her wedding, and that was only at Emmy’s insistence. She and Justin considered themselves religious, and they were believers, but church just didn’t suit them. On this day, however, Gianna found it comforting and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
The family was ushered to the front of the small sanctuary, past Emmy’s book club and senior center friends and several older men who had to be Emmy’s gentlemen callers. Gianna took her seat and Tremaine bent down to whisper in her ear. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”
She grabbed his arm. “I need you now. Sit here with me. Please?”
Beverly cast a side-eye at the two of them and it wasn’t lost on anyone within five feet of the pew. Tremaine didn’t argue. He simply sat to Gianna’s right, between her and her mother. She would hear about it later, she was sure of that.
GIANNA HOSTED THE REPAST at her house and regretted it. She hadn’t realized how drained she would be after the homegoing. She greeted and served for a while before finally taking her seat on the couch, and that’s where she stayed, too exhausted to move, in too much pain to socialize. Tremaine doted on her, bringing her tea, fixing her a small plate of food, rubbing her back when she broke down. Beverly was still going strong, talking and even laughing with the guests. Kaya was around there somewhere with a couple of her friends—the ones Gianna didn’t hate. She had made it abundantly clear to Kaya: your little frenemy is not invited.
It was nice to see all her aunts and uncles, even under
those circumstances. The rest of the day was a blur, just one long nightmare that there was no escape from. Gianna drank three glasses of wine before Tremaine cut her off and spent the rest of the evening dozing on the couch.
“DO YOU WANT HELP CLEANING up?” Beverly asked.
Gianna kicked her shoes off. “I’m not even gonna look at a broom or a sponge until tomorrow. I’m drained.”
“I’m glad you said that. I’m tired too.” Beverly took her shoes off and fell onto the couch.
“How are you feeling?” Gianna asked.
“I don’t know. Still in shock, I guess.”
Gianna nodded. “You did a really good job with everything. The way you’re handling this...I never knew you were that strong.”
Beverly chuckled. “I didn’t know, either.”
“It was nice to see.”
Beverly smiled. “I need a drink.”
Gianna gasped in mock horror. “No! I don’t believe it. St. Beverly wants to pour the devil’s brew into her temple. Couldn’t be.”
Beverly glared at her daughter. “You know, you aren’t too old for me to put you over my knee.”
Gianna stood and walked toward the bar cart. “Wine? Liquor?”
“Wine. White, if you have it.”
“I have it.” She poured two large glasses of white Zin and set them down on the coffee table. Then she thought the better of it and grabbed the bottle. By the time she sat on the couch again, Beverly was already halfway to the bottom of her glass.
“So you really think I was being strong?” she asked.
Gianna took a long swig before answering. “That’s how it looked to me.”
“It’s nice to hear that from you.” Beverly finished her glass and poured herself another. “I hate that it took Emmy passing on for us to talk like this.”
“Yeah. I guess that stroke really worked out for you.”
Beverly’s face crumpled. “Why do you like to hurt me?”
Gianna shrugged like a petulant teenager and said nothing. Truthfully, she didn’t know why. The Robert incident happened a good twenty years ago. It was time to move on.
“I know you’ll never forgive me but you don’t have to keep throwing jabs at me.”
Gianna tapped her glass with her fingertip. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She drained her glass and let the alcohol relax her aching muscles. “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be honest.”
“What?” Beverly asked.
“When you were alone with Emmy, did you ever just wanna reach out and push her down the stairs?”
Beverly gasped. “What in the world?” And then she tried not to laugh. Gianna felt triumphant. She knew that would lighten the mood.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Tell me you never thought about it.”
“What is wrong with you?” Beverly asked between giggles. Gianna laughed with her. “So I’ll take that as a yes. It’s okay. It’s a good exercise to keep yourself sane. You just think of your worst impulse, the absolute worst thing you wanna do, and then imagine yourself doing it.”
Gianna could see that Beverly was thinking about it. “But see, the trick is you can’t stop there. You have to see it through to the end, and that’s what keeps you from doing it.”
“Where did you get that from?”
Gianna tilted her head and smiled, and Beverly laughed again. “Sometimes I truly regret leaving you with that woman. I loved her but she was nuts.”
“Maybe. But she was there.”
Beverly sighed and took a drink.
“And she protected me when nobody else did.”
“I got it the first time. Jesus.”
Gianna told herself to leave it alone but she was on a roll and once that happened, there was no stopping her. “You know what I read recently? That having an unrelated adult male in a home with young girls speeds up their maturation. They get their periods earlier and—”
“What do you want me to say?” Beverly asked before slamming her glass on the table. “I’ve apologized. I’ve begged, I’ve cried. I truly thought we were past it. We went to counseling and everything.”
“To be fair, our counselor was the leader of a cult, so...” Gianna trailed off and poured herself more wine.
Neither woman spoke for several minutes. Finally, Beverly closed her eyes and spoke softly. “I don’t have anything left to give you.”
Gianna refilled her mother’s glass and the two drank in silence, a silence that was fraught with anger, resentment, and anguish the likes of which neither one of them could ever adequately express. So they just drank.
Beverly leaned toward Gianna. “Your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“I wanna know what you imagined doing to me.”
Gianna laughed. “No, you don’t.”
“That bad?”
Gianna shrugged and sipped. “Honestly? No, it wasn’t that bad. I never imagined hurting you. I just occasionally hoped you...wouldn’t come back.”
Beverly nodded. “I can’t say I don’t deserve that.” She stared at the floor and said nothing. The only sound she made was an occasional sniff. She was finally crying for the first time since Emmy passed and Gianna wanted to reach out, to hug and reassure her mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The chasm between them was too wide and too deep.
“I’m gonna miss that crazy woman,” Beverly said. “You know what she said to me the other day? She wants me to get remarried. She said I let what happened with your daddy ruin my life.”
Gianna raised her eyebrows. “I can see that. You’re still young enough and attractive enough to catch you one.”
“Catch me one?” Beverly repeated with a snicker. “How romantic.”
“Come on now, Beverly. You ain’t foolin’ nobody. I know you have a booty under all those clothes.”
Beverly tried not to laugh but it was no use.
Gianna wouldn’t let up. “It’s true! I don’t know what you’re afraid of. It’s okay to be saved and thick.”
“Saved and...Lord, what am I gonna do with you?” Beverly asked, her smile overtaking her face. She was having fun.
“You need to let me and Kaya take you to the mall, get you some clothes, run by MAC and let them beat your face.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Nope. We’re doing it. It’s done.”
Beverly shook her head and smiled. “Alright, I give up. I’ll let y’all make me over and then you’ll have to show me how to catch me one.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’m well-trained in that area.” Gianna poured more wine. “I’ve lost count of how many boyfriends I had. Emmy believed a girl should always have as many gentlemen callers as possible.”
“Trust me, I know all about her beliefs.”
“Do you remember Chris?”
“Was that a boyfriend of yours?”
“Yeah. My first love.”
Beverly shook her head. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen. I can’t believe you don’t remember him. But I know you remember this. I was going crazy thinking he was cheating on me so I woke you up out of bed and asked you to drive me to his house so I could see what he was up to.”
“Ohhhh, you know what? I do remember that.”
“I wanted to pull up on his ass and you said no.”
“I sure did. You were 14! You ain’t have no business pulling up on no knucklehead boy.”
Gianna smiled at the memory. “I bet Emmy would have taken me over there.”
“Oh you know she would have.” They clinked their glasses together and giggled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I’M TOO DAMN OLD TO be hungover. Gianna watched the ceiling spin and cursed herself for overdoing it the night before. She sat up slowly and realized she was still wearing her dress from the funeral. As she made her way down the hall, she thought of Emmy and felt hollow.
She passed the living room and did a double take. For a split second, she thought she saw Emmy
lying on the couch but no, it was just her mother, passed out and snoring. She blinked rapidly and stared. She looked exactly like Emmy. It was unsettling.
Gianna grabbed two water bottles and four aspirin. She tiptoed in and set one of the waters and two of the pills on the coffee table before heading back to her room. She downed both before getting in the shower.
Thirty minutes later, she was freshly showered and her teeth were freshly brushed when her phone rang. It was her father.
“Hey, baby. I just wanted to call and check on you.”
Gianna frowned into the phone. “Well thanks, I guess. The funeral was yesterday.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. I know how much your grandmother meant to you. I hate that I couldn’t get away.”
“Uh huh,” she said. She pressed the nozzle and a giant glob of lotion squirted into her hands. She started at her feet and worked her way up. “I’m hanging in there. Beverly, too.”
“How was the service?”
“It was fine. The usual.” She pumped out more lotion for her thighs.
“So nobody threw themselves on the coffin?”
“Sadly, we did not,” she said with a chuckle as she rubbed lotion onto her elbows.
“I don’t ever wanna speak ill of the dead but I know this: there are a whole lotta men in Atlanta breathing a sigh of relief right now.”
Gianna froze, her hands covered with Jergens. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, you know. Your grandmother.”
“What about her?”
Sam hesitated. “Alright, I guess it’s too soon to play around like that.”
“This is the second time you’ve made a joke like that. What are you talking about?”
“Forget I said anything. Listen, that’s my other line. I’ll call—”
“Whatever,” she said as she hung up. Something wasn’t right.
She marched into the family room and found her mother awake. “Thank you for the water and the aspirin. I’m too damn old to be hungover,” Beverly said.
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