Mama was always partial to boys, so naturally Drew was the favorite. But it was Janetta who seemed to command the most attention.
Raven, on the other hand, suffered from a stigma her mother had never let her live down. Raven’s classically pretty features and long, jet black hair differed from that of her brother and sister, but in some ways, resembled the best of their mother’s features. There had always been a rumor that Raven was the product of a fling her mother had had with a man from Belize who was visiting a neighbor across the street. Jaylon “affectionately” called Raven her “going-away present.” In other words, she was the “present” that made Drew and Janetta’s father “go away.”
Janetta, the oldest, hadn’t always been slovenly and so unkempt. She had once been one of the prettiest girls at their high school, slender, smart, and outgoing. But Raven had to admit, even back then, Janetta hadn’t been too discerning about the men she spent time with. Before she graduated, Janetta ran away with an ex-convict named Maurice who worked in the school’s lunchroom. She spent ten years on the street selling her body for him and miscarried at least nine babies before running back home after he scalded her. The woman who appeared on their mother’s doorstep was a far cry from the beautiful, bright teenager who had left a decade earlier. Still, Jaylon welcomed her back with open arms and gave her addict daughter the entire run of her house; which meant Janetta ran off with the VCR, the stereo, jewelry, a kitchen appliance or two––or three all to support her drug habit and her current lowlife boyfriend.
What would happen to Janetta’s kids now? What would life be like for her siblings now that their mother was no longer around to support them? Raven suspected they would have to do exactly what Raven had done—grow up—something they would try to fight at every turn.
Raven bowed her head as Reverend Lowry led them in prayer. She felt warm, welcoming hands envelope hers. Eric glanced at her, his lips lifting into a small, bitter smile.
Fifteen minutes later, Raven lifted her eyelids and winked and sighed at Eric, who grimaced with impatience. Would the prayer never end? Whatever place God decided to let her mother rest—and she hoped it was definitely with the Creator—Reverend Lowry’s prayer here on earth wouldn’t sway a vote in either direction.
Twenty-two minutes later, Raven’s eyes fluttered open. Deaconess Rochelle had entered the room and joined the circle. The man was still praying for her mother’s safe passage into heaven.
Actually, he should have been praying that Raven wouldn’t send Janetta right behind their mother. Instead of bowing her head while the pastor prayed, the bitch was rummaging through their mother’s purse.
Through clenched teeth Raven growled, “Put it down, now!”
“Our dear sister…” Reverend Lowry trailed off as all eyes opened.
They turned toward Raven, then slowly followed her gaze to Janetta, who had one hand still lodged halfway in the little black purse that was dangling precariously from the end of the bed.
Grief took a backseat as Raven went ballistic.
Lunging, Raven grabbed Janetta’s grubby fingers in a crushing grip, but her sister clung to the leather purse. “Put it down before I rattle what’s left of your pathetic little brain!”
“I’d like to see you try,” Janetta taunted before giving Raven a nasty grin. “You don’t even belong in this family.”
Raven snarled, “I know you haven’t forgotten the time I hosed you down like a cow ‘cause you didn’t know what parts needed washing.”
Everyone gasped.
The incident she was referring to had been the one time Drew helped Raven get Janetta. He, too, had been embarrassed by Janetta’s neglect of personal hygiene—his friends had started to laugh at him because of his stinky sister. Raven didn’t care about other people, but she did care that her nose hairs singed within ten feet of her sister. As Raven doused Janetta in laundry detergent on the front lawn, scrub brush in hand, the whole block came outside to take note.
“Back away from the purse before I lose it in front of all these people.”
“You don’t need Mama’s money,” Janetta shot back, tightening her grip. “You don’t deserve it.”
“It’s not about her money, you cow,” Raven said, trembling with indignation. “It’s about respect. She’s not even laid to rest and you’re taking what doesn’t belong to you. You had class when you were seven, reach back and tap into that ‘cause you sure don’t want me to help you.”
Someone picked her up and turned her 180 degrees. It took a second to register that Eric had carried her out of the room—no easy task since she had at least seventy pounds on him. He opened the door to the nearest restroom—which just happened to be the men’s—pushed her inside, and closed the door behind her.
Raven was too angry to bang on the door, let alone demand to be let out. Janetta had placed an order for an ass-whipping, and with all the emotions swirling inside Raven, she was ready to deliver—with a side order of hood-style beatdown.
Raven turned on the water, splashed some on her face, and took several deep breaths.
Minutes later, Eric peeked in. “Mom, are you okay now?”
“I’ll be fine, Eric,” she said, sliding into the hallway and standing next to him. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He linked his hand in hers, holding back a laugh. “Did you really hose Auntie Jan down like that?”
“More than once,” she mumbled. “And neither time had a long-lasting effect.”
“Geez. Sometimes I’m glad I’m an only child.”
“Oh, we had our good moments growing up,” Raven said, ruffling her fingers through his waves.
“Really?”
“No, but that sounded pretty good, didn’t it?”
Eric chuckled.
A nurse came up, holding out a stack of forms. “Have you decided who will prepare her?”
“Good question,” Raven responded, her somber tone back in place. “We’ll have to discuss it with my brother…and sister. Give me a minute.” She entered her mother’s room. Her brother still held their mother’s hand, shoulders heaving with his sobs. Now wasn’t the time to ask. There were now too many people in the room for conventional comfort, so Raven and Eric waited in the doorway.
What in the world was she to do? She had never gotten along with Drew and Janetta. How were the three of them supposed to tolerate each other long enough to make these decisions about their mother? They couldn’t even agree on what time the sun rose. Raven and Drew might come close, but Janetta would defy anything Raven said, swearing that the sun didn’t come up at all.
Manny was still sitting in the corner watching everything, his dark brown eyes filled with confusion and sadness. Raven remembered what she’d told the doctor. Now was the time to do a little sugarcoating. “Hey, little guy,” Raven said, sliding his hands into hers as she took the spot next to him. “You all right?”
He nodded absently, whispering, “Grandma. Grandma’s sick.”
Raven took a long, slow breath. “She’s a little more than sick. She’s not…with us anymore.”
Manny bit his bottom lip. “She won’t be getting off that bed?
Raven shook her head.
“She won’t be coming home?”
“How would you like to stay with me tonight?”
“ ‘Kay.”
Janetta—who’d always had the hearing of a bat or some other rodent-like animal—swooped over and hovered near them. “Over my dead body.”
Raven didn’t miss a beat. “That can be arranged.”
“My kids are comin’ back to me now.”
“I’m sure DCFS would say otherwise,” Raven shot back, moving away from Manny. She nodded to the nurses’ station. “Care to do a drug drop right now to prove you’re a worthy parent?”
Janetta’s lips clamped shut.
“Didn’t think so.”
“Actually,” Deaconess Rochelle said, reaching for Manny’s hand, “the children should stay with us until things ar
e all sorted out.”
“I’m fine with that,” Raven replied remembering how highly her mother had spoken of the lock-wearing woman who would make sure that Kayla and Manny made it to church every Sunday and to children’s programs during the week.They had spent many nights at the woman’s home.
“I’m not fine with it,” her sister fired back.
“Janetta, you won’t get your hands anywhere near their money for at least a month. You can wait a few days.”
“ ‘A month’!” her sister’s beady eyes widened in horror.
“What? It’s not like you were beating down the door to get them before. You let Mama do all the hard work and I’m sure that helped her health.” She leaned in so only Janetta could hear. “A grown-ass woman choosing dick over her children. You’re a class act, babe.”
“Ho!”
Instantly, they were twelve again. “Takes one to know one. And word on the street was that you were a real good one. Five dollars, anyone?”
Eric pulled her away. “Mom!”
“Don’t hold me back!”
“Grandma was her mother, too. She’s grieving just like you are.”
“This has nothing to do with grief,” she said, glaring at Janetta as she snatched away from Eric’s grasp. “This is stupidity and greed at work.”
“Calm down, Mom. I’ve never seen you like this,” Eric replied in his most soothing tone. “I don’t want you laying anyone out tonight. Don’t let the worst in her bring out the worst in you.”
Raven let out a long, slow breath, hearing her own words to him a long time ago come back in full force. Damn! He was right.
Dina came forward. “Andrew wants her to be buried by the same place as Aunt Rose. They’ll pick up the body. I’ve got a friend that works there.”
Raven would have preferred to use Unity Parlor because of the elegant service they had provided for their grandmother.
Janetta smirked at Raven. “You got a problem with that, too, Ms. High and Mighty, Damn Near Whitey?”
She was about to respond with a biting remark when Eric pinched her arm. “No, it’s fine,” Raven replied softly.
“We’ll meet at the funeral home tomorrow morning,” Dina said. “Is eleven good for you?” Her eyes were searching and careful.
Raven looked back at Dina, softening as she realized that her brother’s wife had actually feared Raven’s opposition. “I’ll be there.”
Twenty-Seven
Raven arrived at the funeral home an hour early to scope out the place, and found it to be exactly what she’d expected—a far cry from top of the line. Damn! Her mother would do cartwheels in her grave.
But the funeral director, Ms. Sullivan, was all business. Raven liked her immediately. She settled into the vinyl seat, and got right to the point. “What’s the absolute best you have to offer here?”
The woman flipped open the catalog to a pearl-white casket with an image of an open bible.
“Perfect,” Raven proclaimed, knowing her mother would approve. “And I’d like to pay for any additional things needed without my brother or sister knowing about it.”
“Programs?”
“I’d like to have them in color. I’ll get you a picture tomorrow.”
Ms. Sullivan scanned her notes and frowned. “Actually, Ms…” she looked up, then reviewed the papers again, “Ms. Ripley, I’m sorry, but it looks like it’s not up to you. I received a faxed copy of the insurance policy from Anita Rickman with your mother’s note that Andrew Ripley is to make all of the arrangements, and that none of the money should come from you.”
Raven felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much is in the policy?”
“Fifteen thousand, split three ways.”
“How much is the average funeral?”
“Around $10,000.”
Raven grimaced. “Which means we’ll have to cut costs if I’m not able to pitch in.”
The woman nodded, closed the file, and offered to take Raven to the showroom.
At 10:40 a.m., Drew and Dina walked in. As Drew hugged Raven, Janetta waddled in ignoring her, which was just as well considering the not-so-fresh air that followed.
Ms. Sullivan slid the papers toward Drew. “Mr. Ripley, your mother left the responsibility—actual and financial—of making her final arrangements to you.”
Drew looked down, scanned the documents for several minutes, then simply asked, “How much?”
“Five thousand for you, your niece, and your nephew.”
“Nothing for me?” Janetta screamed as she lumbered to her feet.
Dina yanked her back down.
“No, I’m afraid not, at least not any insurance money,” Ms. Sullivan answered coolly.
“What about her?” Janetta asked, with a nod in Raven’s direction.
“She didn’t leave me anything either,” Raven replied, fighting to keep her tone civil. She’d assumed, incorrectly, that three ways meant Drew, Janetta, and herself, but she could handle the revelation.
Wanting to avert another scene, Dina quickly added, “Might be something in the pension.”
Janetta’s face brightened. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”
The obvious greed angered Raven even more than the fact that her mother didn’t trust her to lay her to rest. Raven didn’t care about the money, but she did care if things weren’t done right. She looked up at Ms. Sullivan, who grimaced at the turn of the conversation. “Why don’t you show him what you have to offer?”
Ms. Sullivan stood, walked to the door, and said, “Right this way.”
Raven declined to tour the showroom a second time. She couldn’t stand being in her sister’s presence any longer than necessary.
In her haste to be the first one out, Janetta dropped a folded piece of paper on the carpet near the desk. Raven opened her mouth to say something, but clamped it shut instead. She glanced at it, then at the closed door, before she sat back a few moments. Seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly. Finally, curiosity got the best of her, and she picked it up with the tips of her fingernails, snagged a pen from Ms. Sullivan’s desk to flip it open. Since Janetta never carried a purse, Raven could only imagine where the paper had fallen from.
Raven could not believe her eyes. It was a court document. The cow had already gone to court that morning to get guardianship of the children. The paper stated that their mother’s custody had terminated with her death, and the minors should be returned to Janetta, with their funds to be managed by her.
The children would never see a dime. Raven looked around, stepped outside the building, and whipped out her iPhone. “Ava, I need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?” she asked, as she crunched on something. “Sorry for chewing in your ear, but cereal gets soggy in milk real fast.”
“Cereal?” Raven’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t had any real food since yesterday. “What kind?”
“Frosted Flakes, baby.”
Raven’s favorite! And also her mother’s. Another thing they had in common. They could set a gallon of milk and a two-pound box of Frosted Flakes between them, and polish those little suckers off in no time. Raven smiled at the memory. “I want some.”
“That’s gonna be a little hard to manage right about now. How are you holding up, Raven?”
“I’m managing. But here’s something you can manage. My sister filed to get custody of the children.”
“How old are they?”
“Twelve and sixteen.” Raven pressed a finger to her other ear to stifle the sounds of Stony Island traffic. “I think that my nephew might have some type of learning disability, and I know for a fact that my niece just got out of a halfway house to keep her off the streets and drugs.”
“At sixteen?”
Raven sighed. “She started running away at fourteen. The police would bring her home from time to time, but she’d leave again as soon as she could.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” Ava a
sked between bites.
“I don’t get you into all of the family dramas. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
“But I’m your friend before I’m your lawyer,” Ava reminded her, and Raven could picture her thin lips twisted in disapproval.
“I know, I know.” Raven’s weary sigh came from her soul. “It’s just that my mother wanted total control and wouldn’t let Kayla live with me. After being out there in the street so long, Kayla became a major challenge. Once, the police picked her up with more than a thousand dollars in her pocket. And that was from a single day’s work.”
“Damn, we’re in the wrong line of business.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” Ava replied evenly. “But it’s no wonder that teenagers are pulled into that life—fast cash.”
Raven pictured her niece, a young Janetta in training. “But look at what it costs them.”
“I agree. What can I do to help?”
She paced the concrete while formulating a plan. “I want to get guardianship of my niece and nephew and the money my mother left them placed in a trust until they turn twenty-one.”
“You know I’m not a family or probate lawyer.”
“But I thought you said real lawyers could do anything.”
Ava groaned. “Can you fax me the document?”
Raven peered into Ms. Sullivan’s window. The office was still empty. “Yes, just not right now.”
“Give me the docket number.”
Raven read the digits off to her.
“I can have Marilyn run over to the clerk and get a copy. I’m on a plane to New York the day after tomorrow. I have a meeting with Pierce and Steve.” This time Ava sighed. “Everybody believes I can practice any old kind of law. First you, now your boyfriend.”
“Pierce is not my boyfriend,” Raven protested.
That admission was met with a few moments of awkward silence.
“Raven, come on now. It’s been a month,” she said in a low voice. “Please, tell me what happened!”
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