The Banks Sisters 3

by Nikki Turner

  Her prepaid cell phone rang, interrupting her monologue with the All Seeing. When she answered, an automated message said, “You have six minutes remaining.”

  “Fuck.” Could she catch one break? Just one?

  “Hello . . . Tallhya?

  “Gladys?”

  “Don’t you recognize your aunt’s voice? Lord have mercy,” said Gladys, “it hasn’t been that long, has it?”

  “Of course I recognize your voice, Aunt Gladys. I was just distracted by something.”

  “Girl, you too young to be distracted by anything but one of them fine young men out there with a good job and love for the Lord. I wish I was your age again.”

  Tallhya cut her off. “I only have a few minutes, Auntie. I’m on a prepaid.”

  “A what?” Gladys had no idea what that meant.

  “I only have five minutes left on my phone before it cuts off. I have to put some more money on it.”

  “Well, I have good news.”

  Chapter 12

  Remembrance

  Glenn Allen, VA

  Established in 1958, Roselawn is a fairly modern cemetery. The lush, manicured grounds, which are aptly named Memory Gardens, have a spiritual air about them. It’s a certain peacefulness that helps to comfort the mind and soul of the deceased and their visitors. Those were just a couple of the reasons why Mildred “Me-Ma” Banks, while she was alive, chose this particular cemetery for her body to rest once she was ready to embark on her pilgrimage to heaven.

  Chase wheeled the black SRT Grand Cherokee onto the cemetery grounds. Simone sat quietly in the front seat of the SUV, looking off to her right, staring out the window. The cabin of the truck was quiet; the couple hadn’t spoken for the past 45 minutes, since leaving the house this morning.

  After pulling into a parking spot, Chase held Simone’s hand. He could feel the perspiration. He asked, “Are you ready to do this?”

  She wasn’t. This was her first time here since Ginger’s funeral. Ginger and Bunny were buried right next to Me-Ma. Simone had seen to it. After all, she knew that family meant more to Me-Ma than anything in the world, next to God.

  The two got out of the SUV together. Simone exhaled. The morning was mildly pleasant; the temperature was hovering around 76 degrees, capped with a beautiful azure, cloudless sky. Birds sang as they foraged for food and crickets chirped, trying not to become breakfast for their feathered foe.

  She said, “Yes. As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Chase got out and went around to the passenger’s side of the jeep and opened the door for Simone to exit the vehicle. Once she did, he opened the back door, too, and reached into the back seat for the picnic basket Simone had prepared last night. Together, they held hands and walked side by side toward the graves. They’d been married for only a couple of months, but their love was as strong and authentic as a couple that had known each other all of their lives. Love is not measured by time, but how that time is spent together. At least that was the way Simone felt about the subject.

  Less than twenty-five yards from where they parked, Simone laid a quilt on the freshly-cut grass, wet with morning dew. It was one of Me-Ma’s quilts, hand sewn. From the basket, Simone removed Me-Ma’s leather Bible. It was visibly aged, like she was, but strong and dependable, also like she was. Besides the Bible, she removed a single flower from the basket: a purple daisy.

  “This is for you,” she said, laying the flower onto the headstone. Daisies were Me-Ma’s favorite blossom, and purple was symbolic of royalty. Without question, Me-Ma had been, and always would be, the queen and matriarch of the Banks family.

  Simone opened the worn Bible and leafed through the pages until she came upon the passage she wanted: Psalm 91. She read the full Bible passage to her grandmother. When she was done with the reading, both she and Chase, in unison, said “Amen.” Simone then kissed her hand and caressed Me-Ma’s stone.

  Bunny’s grave was to Me-Ma’s immediate right. When it was time to show her respects to Bunny, Simone put the Bible away, replacing it with an expensive bottle of red wine and three crystal goblets. Simone opened the wine, pouring the fermented grapes into each of the glasses. She set a glass on Bunny’s stone, along with a red rose, kept a glass for herself, and handed the last one to her husband.

  She toasted: “To family and bad bitches.”

  Chase touched goblets with his wife. “Amen to that,” he said. “Family and bad women. But none finer than my wife,” he added, with a consoling kiss on the lips.

  Simone sighed. “Bunny loved life so much . . . and so hard,” she lamented. “It’s hard to believe that she took her own life.”

  Chase shook his head. “She was so young, also.” He was the one who’d found her. He stumbled upon the body in a hotel room while investigating another case. She’d apparently overdosed on a handful of pain pills after finding out that her boyfriend had been murdered and then getting revenge on the person she felt responsible for taking his life.

  Chase shared a private thought with Simone, one he’d had on more than one occasion, but never shared, until now. “Sometimes I wonder if somehow I could have saved her. . . .” he said. “If my investigation would have drawn me to the hotel sooner.”

  Simone thought about what he said. She’d had similar thoughts about ways things may have been different, but deep down, she knew that there was nothing anyone could have done.

  She told her husband, “I don’t believe that God makes mistakes. He makes things happen exactly the way He wants them to happen. So there was nothing that you, me, or anyone else could have done to change the outcome of what happened.”

  Slowly, Chase nodded his head. He wasn’t a big church guy, but he believed in God. “I guess you’re right.”

  “To my sister Bunny, I don’t know why you would do this, in this way. You leave me with so many unanswered questions.” Tears formed in her eyes.“But I hope you are at peace finally!” She cried as she poured the rest of the bottle of wine out.

  “Baby, don’t cry. She’s okay. She’s with Me-Ma and Ginger.”

  Not wanting to cry, she tried to suck it up. Simone smiled. “I know that’s right. Let us pay our respects to Ginger and get out of here before we guilt ourselves into having a bad day.” She was already going into the picnic basket.

  Chase said, “Cool. Let’s do that.”

  Simone had brought a rainbow-like Cattleya orchid for Ginger’s grave. The flower was indigenous to Costa Rica. It was exotic, over the top, and bold: all the things that made Ginger who she was. Along with the flower, Simone had a copy of Vogue magazine with her favorite celebrity donning the cover: The original Don Dada herself, Mrs. Beyoncé Knowles-Carter. Simone read the interview to Ginger before packing up.

  As she was putting the things back into the picnic basket, she couldn’t help but think if it was symbolic that she was there because she would be joining them soon. After all, she was in the middle of having chemo treatments, and at this point, it could very much go either way. Before she got into feeling sorry for herself, she decided to say a few final words and get out of there.

  “To missing my family,” Simone said. As she zoned out at her sisters’ and grandmother’s grave she added, “I have no one but you, Chase.”

  “And I’m never going to leave you. You are my angel, and I love you more than life itself.”

  “Thank you, baby.” Having him by her side was all she needed, though she really wished she didn’t have to be there at all and that she had her sisters there with her. But it truly meant the world to her that he was so supportive and by her side.

  The phone rang again, and she looked down at it. “Aunt Gladys?”

  “See, I’m not the only one you have.” Chase tried to make her feel better.

  “Yes.” She nodded with a smile. “Aunt Gladys is always right on time.”

  That she sure was!

  Chapter 13

  Glamma Gladys

  Rydah took an Uber to her grandmother’s house. It had
been more than two decades since the last time she went there. When she was seven years old and school was out for the summer, Rydah’s mother and father had taken her to New York to see the Broadway play Annie. On the way back from the Big Apple, they stopped in VA to visit Grandma Gladys. The house was just as she remembered it. White stucco with pink shutters and huge statues of Jesus and Mary standing vigilant in the front yard on either side of the stone steps.

  Rydah rang the bell. Lights were on inside the house, but no one came to the door. She punched the button a few more times.

  Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

  She thought that she heard noises coming from inside, but still, no one answered. Puzzled, she knocked on the door and rang the doorbell again. Nothing.

  Maybe she’d imagined the noise, she thought. She was certain that this was the right address. A car was on the side of the house, covered up. She could tell from the shape that it was her grandfather’s Thunderbird. The car was a timeless piece of history in their family. It was one of the reasons she had such a deep passion for cars. She wondered if it still ran. If it didn’t, she would fix it.

  In the driveway, a brand-new, shiny Cadillac was parked. The vanity plate read MsG2U. Rydah had to give it to her. Grandma Gladys never disappointed. The woman was the hippest senior citizen that she knew. This was definitely the right house, but why wasn’t she answering the door?

  She reflected back to her conversation before leaving Miami:

  “Hey, Glamma.”

  “Hello, baby.”

  “I hate to wake you. I know it’s super early.” It was 7:10 a.m.

  “I’ve been up for a couple of hours now, baby. Just sitting here, having my morning coffee, reading the obituaries. What time do I have to pick you up from the airport?”

  “My flight leaves in another hour. I should arrive at about eleven o’ clock. But I don’t need you to come and get me. I’m gonna get a rental.”

  “I won’t hear of it. I’ll be there to get you.”

  “No need, Glamma. I’m gonna need a car to drive around while I’m there anyway.”

  Gladys said, “You will drive my car wherever you want to go. You can put as many miles on it as you need to.”

  “And what are you going to drive?”

  “Chile, don’t back talk me. When I pass away, I’m leaving it to you. It’s already in my will. So you might as well get used to it.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Glamma. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Probably outlive us all.”

  “Thank you, baby, but I’m still not allowing you to drive no rental car while you staying with me. You hear me?”

  “Okay. Let’s compromise then. I’ll use my Uber app to schedule a ride from the airport, and I’ll use your car once I’m there. But,” Rydah said, “that’s only if you let me treat you to lunch today.”

  “I guess I can live with those arrangements. But if you don’t get that Uber, make sure you call. If not, you’re going to be in big trouble. And trouble with me isn’t what you want.”

  Rydah hoped her grandmother hadn’t gone to the airport, but if that were the case, her car wouldn’t be in the driveway. Rydah put her ear to the door. The TV was on. She knocked again.

  When her grandmother finally answered, Gladys smelled like a mixture of White Diamonds perfume and cigarette smoke.

  Gladys gave her a big hug. “Girl, you’s as pretty as a flower. Let me look at cha.”

  “Glamma, you been smoking?”

  “Nope.”

  Rydah followed Gladys through the foyer, past the living and dining rooms, and into the family room. The family room smelled like tobacco smoke.

  Rydah gave her grandmother side-eye. “You know good and well that you not supposed to be smoking. ”

  “Now, listen. . . .”

  Rydah wasn’t trying to hear it. “If you promise to cut back, I won’t tell my father that you been smoking like a chimney. And you know he’s going to flip, and my mother will lecture you, so . . . oooh, you know how she goes on and on with those lectures. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  “Wait a minute, missy. I’m your grandmother.”

  “And I love you to life for being such a great influence on me. And out of respect, I won’t give you a lecture on why smoking is like committing a slow but deliberate suicide. Don’t you see the warning on the sides of the pack?”

  Gladys said, “You a li’l sassy thing, ain’t ya?”

  “Yup! Just like my glamma,” she said, trying to get back on her good side.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere. Now, let me get myself dressed so we can start this process to get you your money.”

  “Thank you, Glamma.” Rydah kissed her on the cheek

  “Girl, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just trying to make sure you get what’s yours.”

  Rydah smiled at her grandmother then blurted out, “What are they like?”

  “Who? Your sisters?”

  Rydah dropped her head shamefully. “I’ve never wanted to hurt my parents’ feelings by trying to push the fact that I do have siblings.”

  “Well . . .” Gladys sucked in a deep breath. “Baby, you should live for you. They will understand.”

  “It’s just that I never felt like I was adopted. Ever. Like, never ever! My parents love and accept me for who I am, and the truth is, I’ve never really inquired about my real family, because I know for a fact that they could never be better than the one I have now.”

  “Hummmmmph. You got that right.” Gladys started to say something, but then she remembered her promise to her son. Maestro made it clear that he wanted Rydah to make her own decisions and develop her own feelings about her sisters. Amanda, on the other hand, felt that Deidra was the scum of the Earth and didn’t trust any of them. But Maestro had made his wishes final, and they both agreed that Rydah was a smart girl and that it was best for her to form her own opinion.

  “But I do sometimes wonder what my birth mother is like.”

  “Chile . . .” Gladys chuckled, fanning Rydah off. “Now, my grandmother told me that if you can’t say nothing nice, don’t say nothing at all. So my lips are sealed tighter than a Ziploc bag.”

  “And you always told me that the least you could do for a person is to be honest with them.”

  “You too much, girl. You know that?”

  Gladys had always thought her granddaughter was God’s gift to the world, and being with her made her remember why she loved this little lady so much.

  “Waaaiiiiting . . .” Rydah sang in her sweetest voice, batting mink eyelashes.

  Gladys looked her granddaughter over and just admired her. She was beautiful, smart, kind, put-together, and most of all, she was nobody’s fool. She knew what Maestro had requested, but at the end of the day, she was his mother and the matriarch of the family. And she was more concerned about the wellbeing of her granddaughter that any half-baked promise she may have agreed to.

  “Well, Deidra . . .” she said with a disgusted look on her face. “Yuck!” she said in such a nasty tone, out of her normally loving, grandmotherly voice. “The monster that gave birth to you?”

  Rydah didn’t respond. She just looked at her grandmother and got a kick out of her rolling her eyes at the thought of Deidra, her birth mother.

  “Humph . . .” She sucked her teeth. “Chile, please! That thing ain’t worth the dirt on a snake’s belly. And I’d trust my hemorrhoids more than I’d trust her.”

  Rydah laughed so hard she almost cried. “Glamma, you know you not right.”

  “I’m dead serious, girl. And I was being nice because the woman is your blood. Trust me, you don’t want to know her. I never saw a wench so low down and dirty. She uses everybody in the most extreme way. Your brista was a scammer. Deidra got him to steal all this designer stuff for her and some man, then left him at the mall when he got caught.”

  “His momma did that?”

  “That’s not even a small slice of the shitty pie. Deidra never sent
the boy one dime. And your no self-esteem-having overweight sister Tallhya . . .”

  “Glamma, don’t say that.”

  “Well, it’s true. She pretty. All of them pretty. You look like them, too. Well, your mother slept with the fat sister’s husband. That’s what drove your sister to the crazy house.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m certainly not. I have to go pick her up to take her to the bank as well, so you’ll meet her.”

  “I’m excited.”

  “She’s actually sweet. Kind of gullible, but will give you the shirt off of her back.”

  Rydah asked, “What about Simone?”

  “She has breast cancer and is doing chemo. I spoke to her husband, Chase. He took her to the bank this morning to sign her necessary documents.”

  “She’s married? Does she have children?”

  “No children. And I don’t know why that girl jumped the broom so damn quick. Maybe she wanted those cop benefits. You know that the state has good insurance and such. I don’t know.”

  “How long she been married?”

  “Not long at all. As soon as she got sick, she got married a few days later. She went to the Justice of the Peace, which was very surprising to me, because she’s always been a high-class kind of girl. Her daddy—God bless his soul—Simon raised her like her farts never stank. And when he passed, her stepmother took everything she had, including the underwear out her dresser, and sent her packing to Me-Ma’s.”

  “That’s sad.” Rydah’s heart went out to Simone, and she hadn’t even met her yet.

  “Maybe so, but it made her wise up. And you know how they say so-and-so beat somebody like they stole something. Marjorie did steal something, and I heard that Simone beat the break dust off of that child.”

  “What about Bunny?”

  Gladys dropped her head. “Bunny and Gene both passed away. Gene is your brista—sometimes your brother, sometimes your sister. But I will let Simone tell you about that.”

  “And Bunny?”

  “She took her own life.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she was into a lot of deep, dark hell and . . . I think depression over the guy she was dating or something. It never made any sense to me, but I’ll let Simone tell you about that when she has enough energy. Just was very sad.”