She’d also perfected her defenses as a kid too. Whenever her sisters left her out of things, Melody would pretend it didn’t bother her, that she had bigger and much better things to do than worry about them. She would use Ava as a weapon against them too, since she knew how much Ava’s favoritism bothered them.
“Ava, who is your prettiest child?” Melody would ask in a whiney baby voice.
“You already know it’s you. Harmony is like a black mamba, and Lyric just looks like a regular ol’ black girl,” Ava would say.
“Who is your favorite?” Melody would ask, all the while eyeing her sisters for their hurt reactions.
“You, child. You’re the most like me,” Ava would say, beaming.
“Okay. Can we get down to the planning?” Harmony asked, blowing out a windstorm of breath and flopping down.
“I think we should bury her in gold. It was her favorite color,” Melody blurted.
Harmony and Lyric looked at one another, seemingly contemplating what Melody had said.
“Oh, come on. We all remember every single awards show red carpet outfit. Ava loved her gold gowns. We can’t just put her in some old frumpy suit or some terrible cotton-blend flowered dress like some elderly church lady. She lived for the sparkle, the shine, and the gold dresses,” Melody told them, moving the tips of her fingers for emphasis.
“You’re right,” Harmony relented. “Ava Love was a gold lamé–loving somebody.”
“Remember the first time we went to the Grammys?” Melody asked. They all looked around at one another. “That gold gown Ava wore that night was so fabulous it was the talk of the town afterwards. Ava was stunning. No one believed she had three children, and they were certainly shocked to see her make such a comeback through us. Ava was so proud to finally be on a red carpet too . . . ”
Los Angeles, California
February 2006
Ava’s shiny gold lamé gown fit her like it had been painted on. One thing about Ava Love, she still had a body most women her age would die for. All it took was one panty girdle and she looked as svelte as some of the young people. The high neck, ruched mid-section, and fabulously long train gave Ava’s gown a regal feel. To round out her outfit, Ava slipped into a pair of thin-strapped gold stilettos and held onto a simple rectangular gold clutch with a diamond bumblebee clasp at the top. Her hair was drawn back in her signature chignon with a simple rhinestone pin stuck in the center.
“You look gorgeous, Ava,” Melody complimented proudly. “I bet there aren’t many people who can say their mother looks this good.” Ava’s cheeks flushed and she batted her eyelashes.
“Thank you. You look stunning yourself. All grown up and just as gorgeous as you want to be. You certainly look older than seventeen, and I mean that in a good way.” Ava returned the praises.
Melody drank in her mother’s admiration. She whirled around in her strapless, floor-length royal blue satin gown, feeling like a princess. The sparkling Swarovski crystal hand beading at the breast line of the dress showed off Melody’s white frosted eye makeup and the 20-carat Lorraine Schwartz earrings that Andrew Harvey had gotten for her on loaner from the famous jewelry designer. Melody was simply gorgeous and she knew it. There had already been rumblings and speculation through the media about what she would wear. Everyone expected Melody and her sisters to wear their usual matching outfits homemade by Ava Love. Not this time. Andrew Harvey had made sure Melody and the girls had gowns from exclusive designer collections.
Harmony and Lyric watched as Melody and Ava basked in their own shine. It wasn’t new to them. Harmony and Lyric didn’t get the same compliments, nor did they expect it. They were both stunning in their gowns as well. Harmony’s champagne-colored fully beaded gown played up her beautiful, gleaming brown skin and the simple, regal low-slung bun she wore at the nape of her neck tied in the classy look. Lyric was adorable in an emerald green satin skater dress that showed off her long, slender legs and her youthfulness. Ava had arranged for a well-known hair stylist to fix Lyric’s hair into a stylish pixie cut after Lyric had rebelliously taken scissors to her own hair the week before and hacked it so badly a pixie cut was all that could be done to it. Luckily, the pixie cut really brought out her face and the glow of her light, chestnut brown eyes.
Sista Love and Ava stepped onto the 48th Annual Grammy Awards red carpet in high fashion style and with grace. They all posed a million different ways for the cameras. They’d even stood close together and threaded their arms at the waist behind each other’s’ backs like the Rockettes. They smiled so brightly that they didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Ava waved to the cameras like she was the star. Melody giggled with her sisters, and they changed places for different poses. Melody even pretended to fix Lyric’s hair and Harmony’s dress a time or two. To the world, Ava and her daughters seemed like a close-knit family surrounded by love and admiration for one another. It was their best acting job to date.
That night, inside the Staples Center, when the presenter read off the nominees for Best R&B Vocal Performance by a Duo or Group, Ava, Melody, Harmony, and Lyric all held their breath. Melody’s heart drummed against her chest bone so hard it made her dizzy. She reached over and grabbed Ava’s hand as each nominee was announced. She had seen Harmony and Lyric do the same with one another.
When the presenter said, “And the winner is . . . Sista Love!” all three of the girls exhaled. They looked around in disbelief. Melody’s mouth dropped open. Harmony bolted up in her seat, and Lyric cupped her mouth with her hands. To say they were shocked was an understatement. In two short years, Sista Love had gone from a no-name bunch of sisters practicing in their backyard and performing at small local talent shows to make ends meet, to being a Grammy award–winning singing group with a real record deal. It was like someone needed to shake Melody awake from what seemed like a never-ending dream.
“We won?” Melody gasped, slowly rising from her seat, her hands trembling fiercely.
Ava jumped up, clapping profusely. Melody threw her arms around her mother’s neck. This time Ava lifted one arm and hugged her back. All three of the girls slid out of the row of seats into the aisle and rushed to the stage excitedly. Melody shot to the front and stepped to the microphone first.
“Thank you.” She was panting, on the verge of tears as she accepted the little gold gramophone from the escort model. Harmony and Lyric stepped up behind Melody.
“Oh, wow. I really didn’t expect this tonight. I am so new to this industry. I want to thank my wonderful, beautiful, dedicated mother, the great Ava Love,” Melody said, extending her arm toward the audience and pausing while the audience clapped. “I also want to thank the label and Mr. Andrew Harvey for getting me here. You promised you would and you did. Thank you to the fans. I never would’ve made it without all of you,” Melody finished up. “Thank you, everybody!” she shouted into the microphone in finality.
She never thought to give Lyric and Harmony a chance at the microphone. The excitement of it all and her nerves had caused the oversight. They were all escorted off the stage by the same model who’d handed Melody the Grammy award.
Once they were backstage, Lyric kicked off her heels and bolted for the bathrooms.
“What the hell?” Melody asked, her face contorted in confusion.
Harmony rolled her eyes at Melody. “You thanked everyone but us. Did you ever think that we would want to say something, Melody? You made it all about you, as usual,” Harmony gritted.
“I said everything that needed to be said for all of us,” Melody defended.
“That’s the thing, Melody. You don’t speak for all of us. You never did,” Harmony hissed, storming off in the direction Lyric had gone.
Melody’s shoulders slumped with disappointment. It was one of the greatest moments of her life, and the usual jealousy, competition, and division had trampled all over it.
“Don’t worry about them.” Ava sashayed over.
Melody spun around and met her mother’s gaz
e. Tears rimmed Melody’s eyes. She was so proud, but at the same time, she was conflicted that her sisters never seemed to be happy for her.
“Tonight was just the beginning of what’s in store for you, Melody. Everybody doesn’t have what it takes to be a star, but you, I always knew that you did,” Ava said, taking the Grammy from Melody’s hand and hugging it against her chest. “Finally,” Ava whispered, closing her eyes. “I finally got one.”
* * *
“So, we all agree Ava will be buried in gold, just like she would’ve wanted.” Melody clapped, snapping herself back to reality.
Harmony and Lyric murmured their acquiescence. Murray shrugged his approval.
“Now for the program. We should have a few musical selections,” Harmony said.
Melody held up her hand. “Please. Not that god-awful ‘Amazing Grace’ or ‘Wind Beneath My Wings.’ For Ava, it’ll have to be something upbeat, lively,” she said.
“Well, I guess you could’ve planned all of this by yourself,” Lyric snapped, standing up to leave. “Always controlling everything and everybody. We don’t work for you.”
“Well, Lyric, when you’re the one paying for everything, that’s what happens,” Melody shot back.
“Yeah, you’re paying for everything now, but what happened all these years while your mother remained in this old, broken down brownstone and you bought homes all over the world?” Lyric spat accusingly.
Melody opened her mouth to speak.
“Save it. I really don’t care what you have to say. I’m out of here,” Lyric huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Rebel! Let’s go!”
Harmony jumped to her feet. She shot Melody an evil look. “Wait, Lyric!” Harmony grabbed Lyric’s arm and turned her around.
“For once can’t we just all come together without all of this catty bullshit? Without trying to see who is more in control than the other?” Harmony sounded off. “I get it. I totally get it.” Harmony shook her head. “We didn’t have the best person to foster loving and supportive relationships, but it’s up to us now to change that. We are sisters,” Harmony preached.
Melody raised her hand to her mouth and faked a yawn. Melody didn’t want to hear it. In her assessment, Harmony was a hypocrite, because Harmony was the first sister to disappear and cut off contact with everyone else. Melody hated that Harmony hadn’t given a damn how she felt when everyone went their separate ways. Harmony and Lyric may not have been Ava’s favorite like Melody was, but it still hurt Melody that she had always been left out of her sisters’ special bond.
“I’ll have the flowers, limousines, and everything else taken care of. All I need from you all is your contribution to the program and for you to show up,” Melody said flatly. With that, she stood to leave.
“Good day. Sisters.”
Chapter 9
Lyric
“Ding-dong, the witch is dead. The wicked old witch is dead,” Lyric slurred loudly as she staggered into the funeral chapel with one shoe missing and runs in her black sheer stockings. “I said ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead,” Lyric sang shrilly, trying to clap but unable to bring her hands together at the same time. “Why is everyone so sad? Hey, we should be celebrating.”
Hushed murmurs and gasps rose and fell amongst the guests. Harmony was on her feet within seconds and practically sprinted down the aisle from where she’d been sitting in the front row.
“What? Everyone thought Ava Love was a pure, sweet old lady that just died quietly?” Lyric continued, her words coming out as if they were too heavy for her tongue. She followed it up with a loud cacophony of shrill high notes—“The wicked witch, evil mother, is dead!”—and then more maniacal laughter.
“Lyric,” Harmony said through clenched teeth, grabbing onto Lyric’s arm roughly. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“And here comes Captain Saaave-a-Hoooo,” Lyric sang, dragging out the vowels.
Harmony clamped down harder, backing Lyric down.
“You can’t fix everything, Harmony,” Lyric garbled, stumbling and bumping into a wall as Harmony gripped her arm tightly and pushed her backward toward the door. Harmony and Lyric stumbled out of the chapel door and spilled out into the lobby. Lyric was still making noises and singing off key as Harmony dragged her by the arm.
“Lyric, what the fuck are you doing?” Harmony whispered harshly, finally shoving Lyric into a corner in the funeral home lobby. “This is not the time or the place for this bullshit,” Harmony chastised, trying to use her body to block any sneaky paparazzi from getting a picture.
Lyric let out a loud, raucous laugh, garnering a few suspicious stares from people coming and going. “Did you know that there were many people that wanted Ava dead? You should tell everyone here.” Lyric spoke like she had a mouthful of hard marbles in her cheeks. “Tell them all of the enemies she had, including you and me and me and you and you and me,” Lyric rambled, giggling stupidly.
Harmony sniffed, her face folding into a frown. “What have you been drinking?” she asked in a stern parental tone.
“What have I been drinking? What have I been drinking you ask?” Lyric repeated, garbling her words and raising her voice to almost a shriek. “I’ll tell you just what the hell I . . . I . . . been driiiinking!”
“Shh!” Harmony grabbed Lyric’s arm again and yanked her like a tantrum-throwing toddler into the ladies’ room. “Excuse us!” Harmony yelled at the occupants, her eyes bugged out and wild. With agape mouths and furrowed foreheads, all of the ladies quickly scampered for the door.
Harmony shoved Lyric into a stall. “Sit down!” she demanded.
“Naw, you want to know what I have been drinking, right? Well, sister, I’m going to tell you,” Lyric mumbled almost incoherently. She tried to get out of the stall, but Harmony shoved her back.
“I said sit down! You need to dry out before the service starts! You’re a damn mess right now! And where the hell is your other shoe?”
Lyric fell back, off balance, her legs splayed like a newborn baby deer trying to stand for the first time.
“Ouch!” Lyric howled then laughed. “Why you pushing me, sis-ter? What? You don’t want to hear the answer to what I’ve been drinking? Huh, big sis-ter?” Lyric said, sticking out her tongue mockingly.
“You’re being ridiculous right now, Lyric,” Harmony said, disgusted. “I don’t even think water or coffee will work for you right now. This is more than just a drink. You’re on something.”
“I’m still going to tell you what . . . what I’ve been drinking,” Lyric sing-songed, putting her thumbs up to her ears and wiggling her fingers like a little kid teasing another.
Harmony rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe you came here in this condition, Lyric.” Harmony sighed.
“I’ve been drinking good ol’ blackberry brandy. Straaaight. Straight. Straight down the hatch. Straight as a string. Straight,” Lyric said, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost on top of one another.
Harmony’s back went stiff and she breathed out heavily.
“What? Did I say the magic words?” Lyric put both of her hands on her cheeks and opened her mouth into an O in mock surprise. “Black-berry bran-deee,” Lyric emphasized.
Harmony shook her lowered head.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember why my own mother made me drink the stuff when I was only seventeen years old,” Lyric said, emitting a contradictory chuckle. “I am positive you remember. Right, sis-ter?”
“Lyric.” Harmony lowered her voice to a soft, comforting tone. “I know this is all hard for you. We are all battling these memories, her death, our relationships, but we have a lot of people—”
“I don’t give a fuck about the people!” Lyric boomed.
Harmony jumped, wobbling slightly on her heels.
Suddenly Lyric’s eyes hooded over and her right pointer finger wavered unsteadily in front of her face. “Fuck the people and what
they think! The world needs to know the truth about Ava Love! You want to protect her after everything?” Lyric shouted, pointing at Harmony accusingly.
“Lyric, that’s not what I’m—”
“Shut up! Your mother . . . your fucking mother made me drink blackberry brandy to try and give me a homemade abortion. I didn’t even know I was pregnant! She said it would work and that I wouldn’t feel the pain. Do you remember that, Harmony? Huh? When I was deathly ill from being pregnant by the man she sold me to so that we could be famous. Huh? Does anybody remember that I was seventeen and pregnant by a disgusting troll that was fucking old enough to be my grandfather? Huh? Does anybody remember how I bled and screamed in pain and she didn’t even want to take me to the fucking hospital and then lied and made it look like some off-the-hook teenage whore? Do you and Melody remember all of the nights your mother, her mother, grabbed me out of my bed and sent me to him so you bitches could have record deals and fame and so your mother could live out her sick fantasy of being famous? Huh? Do you remember?” Lyric screamed through her tears while her chest heaved.
Lyric punched the metal wall of the bathroom stall. Harmony jumped, her shoulders shuddering with sobs.
“I don’t even have shit to show for all of it. Used up. Broke. Damn near homeless. Nothing left. And now she’s gone, so I can’t even tell her how fucked up she was and how I’ve never been the same since I was thirteen years old.”
“Lyric,” Harmony croaked, her hands up in surrender. “Not now,” she whimpered, barely able to get the words out. “We can’t go down this road right now.” Harmony’s words came out in a shaky whisper.
“Then when?” Lyric rasped, lowering her head into her hands to stop the spinning. “When?”
Brooklyn, New York
May 2008
Lyric bent over the toilet for the fifth time and vomited. When the entire contents of her stomach had all come up, she fell to her knees, panting. Her hair was pasted to her forehead with sweat and her heart pounded.
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