Envy

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Envy Page 13

by Victoria Christopher Murray


  “Bella.” I said her name, really liking it. “No, she didn’t upset me.” This was where the truth had to stop. “I was just surprised, and seeing her . . .” I had to think, think, think . . . I said, “Seeing her . . . made me think . . . of my mama.”

  “Oh,” Gabrielle said with plenty of pity in her voice.

  “Yeah,” I said, keeping the story going. “Seeing . . . Bella just reminded me of all the happy times I had with her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I pulled my hand away from Gabrielle and stood up. “Yeah . . . umm . . . my mama and I didn’t have a lot of money, but you know . . .” I folded my arms across my chest and shrugged. “My mama did everything she could to make me happy.” This story didn’t have anything to do with what was going on with me right now, but it was the truth.

  Gabrielle nodded, and then she stood up. Facing me, she said, “A mother’s love doesn’t come with a stack of dollar bills. I can tell your mom loved you by the way she raised you. I don’t even know you very well, and I can see you’re a kind, gentle, loving person. That all came from your mom. That all came from love.”

  I nodded and swiped away a tear, pissed at myself for crying, though I wasn’t sure if I was crying for Mama or . . . .

  “You’re going to miss your mom,” Gabrielle said, stopping my thoughts, “but I promise it will get easier as time goes on. You know how I know?”

  I shook my head.

  She said, “Because my mom passed away, too.”

  My head jerked back a little bit; I didn’t know—she hadn’t put that on Instagram. For the first time I realized I hadn’t thought about Gabrielle’s mother at all.

  She said, “My mom passed away seven years ago, and when it happened, I wasn’t able to breathe for the first year. But then one day, I was able to not cry for at least an hour, and then the next day, I was tear-free for two hours, and it kept going that way. Then finally, I got to the day when I was able to do something more than cry.”

  I looked at her, waiting for her to finish her story.

  She said, “I got to the day when instead of crying, I smiled.” Putting her fingers on my chin, she kept on, “And one day, you’ll think about your mom and you’ll smile, too.”

  I nodded.

  “But until then, I’m here. You have a family, Keisha, and we’re all here for you, okay?”

  I nodded again and she put her arms around me. I hadn’t cried too much about my mama because crying wasn’t going to bring back what God had taken away. If I’d thought crying would help, I would’ve cried me a river, as my mama used to say.

  But since she couldn’t come back from being dead, I didn’t cry. For some reason, though, now I did. I was crying for my mama, and I was crying about all the stuff I couldn’t talk to anyone about.

  The more I cried, the tighter Gabrielle held me. And when I realized that she wasn’t going to let me go, I lifted my arms and held her, too.

  17

  Keisha

  Balancing the plate and glass in one hand, I took a deep breath before I stepped into the hallway from my bedroom. I listened for voices, but when I didn’t hear anything, I took the same path that I had this morning, down the steps, pausing at the bottom. Then, I took a deep breath hoping that would give me courage, before I turned toward the kitchen.

  When I saw the space was empty, I exhaled relief and set my plate (still about half-full, though I’d eaten all the bacon) and the glass on top of the spotless counter. When Gabrielle had brought that plate up to me, she’d told me to eat and then lie down for a little while. And I did. Not because I was tired and not even because I was upset. It was because I needed the time to get myself together. If I was going to stay and play this gig out, I had to find a way to deal with Bella.

  “Hi.”

  I froze, but just for a second, and then I turned and faced the little girl.

  This time, I didn’t freak out. But as I studied her, it was hard not to feel a little queasy. I settled down fast, though, because she was really cute. It was her pigtails and bangs that swept across her forehead that made her so adorable. What was most interesting to me, though, was that she didn’t look all that much like Gabrielle or her husband. And for a moment, I wondered if she was adopted . . . until I saw . . . that mole on her lip!

  Oh my God!

  I pressed my hand against my mouth and peered at her longer. This was beyond interesting . . . it was weird. This little girl looked more like me than Gabrielle. Her eyebrows weren’t as thick as mine, but they were thicker than Gabrielle’s, and she was a shade darker than her mother, too, closer to me.

  “Mommy said that you had to rest.” Bella interrupted my inspection. She tilted her head. “Did your tummy hurt?”

  Inside my head, I imagined that I was calm so that my words would come out that way. “No. I was just tired because I traveled on an airplane yesterday.”

  “I’ve been on an airplane before.”

  “You have?”

  She nodded. “Lots of times.” And then she said, “You’re my auntie, right?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I’m glad,” Bella said. “I have some aunties, but Mommy said they’re not really my aunties, so I think you’re my favorite one ’cause you’re real.”

  Those words made my shoulders relax. “Oh, yeah?” Then, for the first time since I’d arrived in California, I smiled. Like, really smiled. And if I thought about it, this was probably the first time I’d smiled since my mama passed away. All because of Bella. “How do you know I’m your favorite when you don’t even know me?”

  “I don’t know you, but I don’t have to know you to like you.”

  Now I crouched down and looked into the eyes of the best person that I’d met in California. “Well, you know what? I like you, too.”

  She grinned and then wrapped her arms around my neck. Tears once again came to my eyes, but not for the same reason as this morning. Bella just made me happy.

  “I see you’ve met our little girl.”

  When Gabrielle’s husband walked into the kitchen, I stood. And then, I couldn’t help it—I looked him up and down. Somebody was going to have to come up with a new word for fine, because that wasn’t enough to describe how this man looked in his black turtleneck and jeans.

  Once again, Bella interrupted my inspection, this time of her father.

  She said, “She met me before, Daddy. Remember before she got sick?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said as he lifted her into his arms. Looking at me, he asked, “Feeling better?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” And then I had a question for him. “What’s your name?”

  He frowned as if he didn’t understand, but I didn’t know why. He’d never said his name to me, and the only one who called him anything was Bella . . . and this man was fine, but I wasn’t going to call him Daddy.

  “Mauricio,” he said.

  “Mauricio,” I repeated. “I’ve heard that name before.” I squinted, trying to remember.

  “It’s a Spanish name,” Bella schooled me.

  I did what I did every time she spoke—I smiled.

  But before I said anything else, Gabrielle came in—wearing her own black turtleneck and jeans. The only difference between her and Mauricio was that she had on a pair of fierce, black thigh-high boots. She looked fresh.

  “I just checked to see if you were awake.” Gabrielle stepped right into my personal space. “Feeling better?” she asked, just like her husband.

  “Yeah.”

  She looked at me the exact same way that I’d been looking at Bella. “Good. So, are you up to this? Going to see our . . .” The way she paused, I could see she was trying to figure out what she should call Elijah.

  I gave her a break and said, “Yeah. I want to meet him.”

  “Good.” Her smile told me that she was relieved I’d given her that answer.

  “Well, then”—Gabrielle turned to Mauricio—“we’re ready.”

  “We’re going
to Grandpa’s house?” Bella said.

  “Yup,” Mauricio told her. “So let’s meet back here in five minutes ready to walk out the door.”

  He carried Bella out of the kitchen, and when Gabrielle followed him, I saw the red bottoms on her boots. I sighed. Yup, those were fire. But since I didn’t need anything besides my cell phone, I just sauntered over to the family room. Sitting in one of those leather chairs, I thought that this was better than anything I’d sat in inside the movies. I didn’t turn on the TV, but I imagined watching some of my favorite shows in here. What would Love & Hip Hop look like on this big-screen TV? Or what would even be better—The Real Housewives of Atlanta or The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills . . .

  I popped up in the chair. That was it.

  Mauricio.

  He looked just like that guy on that show with the same name.

  Wow!

  Leaning back, I crossed my legs, closed my eyes, and went back to dreaming. I imagined myself in a house like this with a husband like that.

  “Keisha?”

  My eyes sprang open.

  “You ready?” Gabrielle asked me.

  I nodded and tried to keep the smile off my face as I pushed myself up, grabbed my cell phone, and followed Gabrielle into the garage. The SUVs that were parked side by side didn’t surprise me—a Lexus, a Range Rover.

  Mauricio stood at the door of the Range Rover, tucking Bella into her car seat. She waved at me and I waved back as I made my way to the other side.

  When I opened the car door to climb in next to her, Bella said, “Hi, Auntie.”

  I raised my hand to give her a high five, and she did the same, then giggled, and I giggled, too. I was still chuckling as we rolled out of the garage . . . and then I looked up at their house and all of my laughter stopped.

  “Wow!” I meant to say that word inside, but it came out of me—twice. I pressed my nose against the window so I could see more. I’d thought the houses across the street were mansions, but two of them made one of Gabrielle’s house.

  “This is the biggest house I’ve ever seen in my life,” I said. “How big is it?”

  From the front seat, Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder. “It’s not that big. Just six bedrooms and six and a half baths.”

  “Six bedrooms?” I bounced back against the leather seat. “You don’t call that big? But there are only three of you.”

  Gabrielle shifted in her seat so that her body half faced me now. “Well, there’re kinda four of us now, right?”

  She grinned, but then I caught a quick glance of Mauricio through the rearview mirror. And his smile was upside down. He didn’t look happy about what Gabrielle just said. What was his deal? Why was he frowning?

  But then I forgot all about him because when we turned onto this wide street, there was nothing but water on one side of me. “Is that a beach?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Gabrielle said. “That’s the Pacific Ocean, and this is Santa Monica Beach.”

  “You live right by the ocean?” I did that pressing my nose against the window thing again.

  “Yup. Santa Monica, which is the city where we live, is a beachfront town.”

  As we rolled down the street, I kept my eyes on the ocean. I couldn’t see a whole bunch because there were trees and grass in between the street and the water. But it was still one of the coolest things I’d seen.

  “We don’t live that far from my dad,” Gabrielle said. And then she added, “I mean, our . . . I mean, Elijah.” She twisted in her seat so that she faced me even more. “Our father, Elijah, doesn’t live too far from here. He lives in Venice and depending on traffic, only takes about ten to fifteen minutes from door to door.”

  I nodded because I didn’t have anything to say about that, but there was something else I did want to know. “So what kind of business do you have?”

  “A public relations agency,” she said, not having any idea that I already knew that.

  What I didn’t know was my next question. “Do you make a lot of money?”

  “Well, I do fine,” she said, as if she wasn’t at all upset by me asking. “I’ve been really blessed. Regan and I started this business about five years ago, and we have a couple of big clients, like Justus. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “The singer?” I asked, playing my part.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I went to high school with him right here in Venice and—”

  “Babe,” Mauricio interrupted, “what time did you tell your dad we were going to be there?”

  Gabrielle frowned, but turned her attention to him and answered. As she changed the subject and talked about the dinner her father had planned, I sat back and peeped Mauricio’s game. Why was he checking me like that? Seemed like he wasn’t that different from Regan and I was gonna have to watch him while he thought he was watching me.

  I’d let him think he’d won this round. I sat back and listened to Gabrielle chat about Elijah. But I was gonna get what I needed to know—believe that.

  It didn’t even take us fifteen minutes before Mauricio rolled his Range Rover into a driveway and parked behind a Ford Explorer. With just a quick glance through both windows, it was easy to see that this neighborhood wasn’t anything like where Gabrielle lived. Here, the houses were small, much smaller. And they were close together, too.

  Checking out the house in front of us, my eyes paused. And I stared at the man standing on the porch.

  “Grandpa,” Bella belted out and kicked up her legs.

  My heart raced, though I didn’t know why. I guessed it was because I’d spent this morning recovering from seeing Bella rather than getting ready for meeting Elijah.

  But I sucked in air and pushed down all the anxiousness I felt. All I needed to focus on was the fact that I had a plan and I had a purpose.

  So I jumped out of the car like it wasn’t any big deal and I waited for Gabrielle to do the same. She smiled at me, then took my hand, like I was her kid or something. I didn’t pull away, though, ’cause I felt stronger holding on to her. As we walked up the driveway, the man stared at me as hard as I stared at him.

  He came to the edge of the porch, and right where the steps began, Gabrielle and I stopped. He was close enough now for me to see the water that glazed his eyes. And by the time he stepped down and met us on the driveway, a tear had crept down his cheek.

  Standing in my space, he raised his hands, and I did my best not to flinch as Gabrielle stepped aside.

  “Keisha.” He whispered my name right before he held my face in between his hands.

  I tried to stand still, but I squirmed under the warmth of his touch.

  He said my name again, and then another tear fell from his eye.

  “Daddy,” Gabrielle whispered. “Let’s go inside.”

  It was like he was getting himself out of a trance the way he blinked and blinked, then nodded. But he still held my face and I wondered how was I supposed to walk with him holding me like this.

  It wasn’t until he let me go that I realized I’d stopped breathing. So it was good that Gabrielle held my hand again ’cause this was more emotional than I’d thought it was going to be. I was trying to keep this just about business, but I felt some kind of way—my heart was still beating a little faster, and my stomach was kinda fluttering. Maybe it was just something that happened to everyone when they met their father.

  Stepping inside the house, I tossed aside all of those some-kind-of-way feelings and took my mind straight back to business. As soon as we walked through the door, we were right in the living room. And from where I stood, I could see the kitchen. It was kinda like the shack behind Ms. Johnson’s house, though this certainly wasn’t a shack. It was a house—a real house, but a house that could fit in the entryway of Gabrielle’s.

  And the size wasn’t the only difference. Gabrielle’s place was filled with furniture that looked like it came straight out of a designer showcase. Everything was white or cream and sparkling clean. But Elijah’s home was set up and filled
with the kind of furniture that I was used to. He had a long, dark brown sofa that was clean but kinda dingy from use and a matching recliner. There was no piano in this living room, just regular tables at the ends of the couch that each held ordinary lamps.

  Before I got here, I still hadn’t decided how I was going to play this whole trip out. But one thing I knew right now was that if I were going to cash a check, it wouldn’t be written by Elijah. It would all have to come from Gabrielle and that was going to be tough for two reasons: Regan and Mauricio.

  But then there was Gabrielle, too. My plan had been to lean on Elijah’s guilt; Gabrielle wouldn’t have any regrets; I wasn’t her responsibility. There was a lot that I had to work out.

  Finally, Elijah said something besides my name. “Come in. Come into my home.”

  Still holding Gabrielle’s hand, I followed as Elijah moved to the sofa. I wasn’t really feeling sitting so close to him, and then Bella saved me.

  “Grandpa!” She ran into the house, almost pushing me over to get to Elijah.

  He lifted her up a little, kissed her cheek before he sat her on the sofa, then sat down beside her. That was when I sat down, too. It was much better with Bella in between us and Gabrielle still on the other side of me.

  But though Elijah wrapped his arms around Bella, his eyes stayed on me. He didn’t say anything until Mauricio sat in the recliner right next to us.

  Elijah said, “So . . . Keisha.”

  I nodded, then shrugged, ’cause what was I supposed to say when someone just kept calling my name?

  He said, “I’m so glad to meet you.”

  I thought about my plan, I thought about my money, and that was why I said, “I’m glad to meet you, too.”

  I didn’t even realize Gabrielle was still holding my hand until she squeezed it. I guessed she approved of my words.

  He said, “Forgive me if I keep staring at you. It’s just that . . .”

  I knew what was coming because from the moment I saw that first picture of him, I thought we looked alike, too.

 

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