The ginger ale she’d purchased while waiting for the cab eased her stomach. Now, as the taxi idled in holiday traffic on the 101 freeway, Stacy regretted she’d left the concert. It was stupid of her to drink wine. But her need to drown out thoughts of Darius had also drowned out her common sense for a moment. She’d left a fabulous concert, great company, and a good man behind. And for what? So she could go home and be alone? Watch the umpteenth rerun of A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving?
“That was stupid,” she mumbled under her breath. “He’s in Canada, having a ball, and look at you.”
“Excuse me?” the cab driver inquired.
“Nothing,” Stacy answered, barely aware she’d spoken out loud. Nothing, she repeated inside her head. Because that’s what she’d gotten out of ruining a perfectly good evening for someone who had not once cancelled a good time for her and who, even now, was undoubtedly in some five-star hotel, eating five-star food, enjoying champagne wishes and caviar dreams.
Once inside her apartment, Stacy determined to change her sour mood. Being involved with a celebrity was never easy.
Time and time again Tanya, Darius’s sister, had told her to chill the bump out, to stop being paranoid and acting like all the other insecure women. Tanya was right.
Stacy reached for her phone and dialed Tanya’s number. She’d avoided her friend since getting pregnant, but didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. After getting voice mail, she hung up without leaving a message and went into the kitchen to scrounge for food. Within minutes, she had a scoop of turkey salad between two slices of bread. She’d gotten through half of it, along with a helping of chips, when it happened again, a wave of nausea accompanied by dizziness.
Stacy walked into her bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and took out an antacid tablet. She thought she’d escaped morning sickness, but here she was nine weeks along and throwing up for the first time since she’d found out she was pregnant. Rubbing her stomach, she remembered that she wasn’t alone after all. She had company, the kind that would hang around for at least eighteen years. The thought made her smile, made her feel better about her day. “Happy Thanksgiving, Darius Jr.,” she said with a smile. “Mommy loves you.”
Her room was quiet, except for the constant hum of various medical devices surrounding her bed. After more than a month, the ventilator had been removed; she was breathing on her own. Face and upper body bandaged, the heavily sedated patient was barely aware of her discomfort. The movement of her chest, and occasionally eyes, were the only signs of life, that and the continual blip on the EKG machine, the proof of a heart beating.
The door swung open as Beth entered doing evening rounds. She kept up a steady monologue in a soft, southern accent as she went about her tasks—exchanging IVs, checking vitals.
“You may not think so now, Mira, but you have much to be thankful for today. No, you couldn’t eat turkey, and no one came to visit, but just think of those who endured what you did and aren’t alive now. You’re our miracle, Mira, a living, breathing miracle.”
The nurse continued with a regimen of detailed oral care. “Doctor says you’re coming along just fine. Says he can’t understand why you’re not talking. Your throat is still quite parched, but it’s healed enough for you to be able to conversate. We’ve all been wondering about you—who you are, where your family is. So far the hospital hasn’t turned up much. I think they wanted to wait until you could talk before they resorted to fingerprints or dental charts, stuff like that. Those blasted things are so expensive, and you without insurance and all…. Well, any that we know of anyway.”
Slowly, the nurse removed one layer of bandages after another and began a tedious bathing process. “Oh my goodness, well look-a-here. The burned skin is peeling off. That’s a good thing; the more that comes off on its own, the less they’ll have to scrub. I won’t lie to you, Mira, the rehab on burns is far from pretty, but doctor says you’ll be ready to begin in another couple weeks or so, when you’ll be well enough from your surgeries. Then your healing can truly begin, Mira.” The nurse smiled at the eyes that followed her so intently. She stopped rewrapping the bandages and took Mira’s hand. “One of these days, before you know it, you’ll have your life back. Well, not like it was before but who knows? Maybe even better. The Lord works in mysterious ways, that’s what my mama always said. ’Course, growing up in the hills of West Virginia, it didn’t take much to seem mysterious to us.”
Beth finished rewrapping the bandages, lowered Mira’s bed, fluffed the pillows, and straightened the bed linens. She hummed a cheery tune as she documented the charts, noted the time, and finished her report.
She headed for the door, then stopped and turned abruptly. “You know what I just thought of?” she said, laughing. “Now I hope you don’t mind this but I sure did think of this line just now, from one of my favorite movies, The Color Purple. Remember when Miss Celie was leaving that mean ol’ Mister, was going off with Shug to start a new life? Old mean Mister didn’t think she had a chance, didn’t think she could make it without him. You remind me of her, your spirit that is. A lot of us in this hospital didn’t think you’d make it either, but you’ve got a will that won’t quit. Remember what she said from the back of that car? That’s what I want to say to you. You may be Black, and with all those bandages, you might look a little ugly. But you’re here. By God, Mira, you’re here!”
The nurse’s laughter was genuine as she turned out the light and stuck her head back into the room. “Sleep well, Mira. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Robin watched the door for a moment after the nurse left. She thought of how kind the woman was, even smiling a bit at her Color Purple reference. Like many, Robin had watched TCP a zillion times, could recite much of the dialogue before the actors said their lines.
“That’s right,” Robin whispered, her voice hoarse and raspy. Her eyes darted around the room wildly. “Y’all muthafuckas hear dat? Did y’all hear dat? I’m here.”
27
Thicker than Water
“You ain’t no competition, old man. Whatchu got, whatchu got?” Kelvin talked game as he faked to the left before turning to the right and scoring an easy layup under a bright December sun. Derrick followed him to the top of the key where play began again.
“You better be glad this isn’t twenty years ago,” Derrick said, hand-checking Kelvin as he bounced the ball between his legs and went for a fade-away jumper. The ball bounced off the rim, Derrick got the rebound and sank the ball for two.
“Okay, it’s time to take care of business,” Derrick said. Father and son went back and forth on the scoring until thirty sweaty minutes later they’d finished their game. “You didn’t think you’d beat me, did you?” Kelvin laughed as he downed a pint of water.
“Not really,” Derrick admitted, while toweling sweat from his body. “I need to hit the gym for oh, about the next year straight, then I might be able to win one game!”
“Maybe next lifetime,” Kelvin said, in a tone so truthful the comment failed to be cocky.
Derrick laughed, shaking his head at the amazing similarities between himself and this young man he’d met just a little more than two years ago. Blood was indeed thicker than water because while Kelvin grew up in another country, in a totally different culture, he and Derrick shared characteristics in a way that was uncanny: the same walk, same crooked smile, and Kelvin’s basketball braggadocio could have been taken from Derrick’s high school “trash talk” book.
Basketball is what helped Derrick and Kelvin bond as they got to know each other. When Kelvin moved in the year before, his b-ball skills instantly made him an idol in the eyes of his half-brother, D2, and no one, especially his half-sister, Elisia, could resist his charm.
Even his stubbornness, or some would say especially his stubbornness, was a trait he inherited from his father. Looking back, Derrick was glad Vivian had stood her ground and made him call his son shortly before Thanksgiving and offer the olive branch. He knew he should have done s
o sooner, but also knew that as much alike as they were, a month or so of space had been good for both of them to calm down.
He’d never meant for the confrontation that day to get out of hand, but after losing his uncle his emotions were already raw. It had not been a good time for Kelvin to raise his voice about what he was not going to do. In the end, Derrick realized he was in no position to try and change a boy who was almost a man when they met, and if there was ever any hope of being a real father, he needed to start out as a real friend.
“You still hoping to sign with the Lakers?” Derrick asked, once they’d reached their vehicles, parked side by side.
“Yeah, it would be nice to stay in LA,” Kelvin answered. “Princess, I mean…”
Derrick’s parental meter immediately kicked in but he worked to keep it casual. “Naw, naw, go on now. What about Princess?”
Kelvin didn’t see any reason to keep hiding that he was seeing Derrick’s minister friend’s daughter. After all, the girl was grown. “Me and Princess been hangin’ out for a minute.”
“That so,” Derrick responded lightly.
“Yeah.”
“Her parents know about it?”
“No, I mean, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Are y’all…is this a boyfriend-girlfriend thing? Look, son, I’m not trying to run your life but Princess is like a daughter to me.”
“She’s like your daughter but she’s not your daughter. And I’m your son so it should be cool, right? What, you don’t trust me with her?”
“Let’s not get into an argument, Kelvin. But here’s the deal. I’ve been where you’re going. I know what it’s like to be talented and a fly guy…”
Kelvin rolled his eyes.
“And have all the young ladies swinging on your jock. You’re nineteen, single, and probably not monogamous. I just don’t want Princess hurt, that’s all.”
“I don’t want her hurt either, Rev. It’s hard sometimes though. Women want to get all clingy and what not.”
“I sure hope you two are not sexually active,” Derrick said, although with Kelvin being his son he doubted that was true. “But if you are, just be honest with her, son. If you’re playing the field, let her know she’s not the only one on the team. And make sure you use protection. You are using protection, aren’t you?”
Kelvin nodded. Since he was using protection with all the other girls, he felt he didn’t really lie.
Derrick sighed. He’d just gotten back on track with Kelvin. He didn’t want them to become estranged again. He didn’t want to go behind his back either, and King had to know what was going on with his daughter. “I don’t want to have to keep this from King,” he said after a pause. “He’s my best friend.”
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s cool. Princess always talks to her moms, so she probably already knows.” Kelvin opened his car door. “Lil’ D coming next time?”
“You know it. Your little brother was sorry he missed out today but Vivian made him keep his earlier commitment with his debate team. He’ll probably be calling you later this week.”
“All right then, thanks for the game.”
“Yeah, right, more like thanks for letting you kick my butt!”
“Letting me? Oh, you let me, huh?”
“You don’t think you can actually beat me, do you?”
Kelvin laughed. “See you later, Rev.”
“Good-bye, son.”
Derrick watched until Kelvin’s Jeep turned out of the parking lot. His mind raced. How long had he and Princess been sleeping together? Did King and Tai know about it? There was only one way to find out. Derrick reached for his cell phone. He needed a sounding board for this unexpected situation and hoped Vivian was home.
“What?” Tai bellowed.
Vivian knew Tai would not be pleased but she had hoped her girlfriend would not go ballistic. “Okay, Tai, I know it’s not my place to tell you to calm down but—”
“You’re right, don’t tell me to calm down because it’s not going to happen. Not when you’re telling me that Janeé’s son, the woman who has plagued my life since high school, is having sex with my daughter. Oh, hell no, this is not going to happen. We’re going to put an end to this, trust.”
“He’s Derrick’s son too, you know.”
“And that makes it right?”
“Of course not.” When Tai was this upset, Vivian knew there was nothing she could say to make things better. Still, she tried. “I’m just trying to get you to focus on Kelvin, not his mother. You already suspected Princess was having sex—remember how different you felt she acted when she was home for Thanksgiving? You were upset, yes, but a little more resigned to it when you thought it was Rafael.”
“I should have made her talk to me, open up….”
“Like we did when we were eighteen?” Vivian’s voice softened. “Princess is at that stage in her life where she’s trying her wings, testing her independence. We all wish we could think for our children, help them avoid the mistakes we made. But Princess knows right from wrong. I remember you telling me about the talks you two once shared. Now you’ve got to trust that she’ll remember all you’ve said. And, Tai…you’ve got to remember that God knows what she’s doing, even when you don’t.”
28
Grown Folk
“Mama! Daddy! What are y’all doing here?” Princess hoped, prayed she was dreaming. She closed her eyes, opened them again. No, parents were still here, in the middle of UCLA’s campus. This was no dream. It was no joke either. That King Brook, one of the busiest ministers in the country, was here on her campus and not in some pulpit meant something serious was going on.
Tai vowed to keep a rein on her temper. “This is what happens when you stop taking your parents’ calls,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “We need to talk.”
“But I’ve got class—”
“This can’t wait,” King said firmly.
Princess performed the age-old defiant gesture of crossing her arms. “Look, if this is about me and Kelvin…”
“That is exactly what this is about,” Tai said, her voice rising. “Now, don’t make me go off right in the middle of this campus because I’d rather not but I’m not beyond it. Who do you think you are to not take my calls? Girl, I brought you into this world and I’ll—”
“Tai,” King interrupted, placing a hand on her forearm. He turned to his daughter. “Princess, your mother and I are very upset about what we’ve learned this week, not to mention you not returning our calls. We’re here to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on here, and we’re not leaving until we do—understood? Now, let’s go.”
Princess balked, trying to figure out how she could keep them away from the condo. When confronted over the phone earlier in the week, she’d admitted that she and Kelvin were seeing each other. But she’d refused to answer any further questions and hadn’t returned her parents’ calls since that singular conversation. That, she belatedly deduced, was what had led to the bum rush she was now experiencing. I should have just answered my phone!
“Uh, why don’t we just walk over to the food court,” Princess suggested.
Tai was immediately suspicious. “Actually, Princess, I’d like to see your place. And I want to meet your roommate too. It will be good for us to know the person whose place you’re sharing.”
Telling her parents that the place was Joni’s was the only way she could justify being able to afford living there. Hopefully that lie would remain intact. “Well, uh, she won’t be home until tonight. She’ll probably hang out with her boyfriend after class.”
“That’s okay. I’d still like to see where you live.”
“So would I,” King somberly agreed.
There was no logical reason for not going to her house. She knew her parents were already suspicious. She took the long way around to the parking lot, trying to remember what shape the house was in when she’d left that morning. Were there any blunts lying around, any alcohol on the counter? What if Kelv
in was there? No, she remembered, he’d be at practice. But what about Brandon—what if he was there getting high this very moment? Princess sighed. It didn’t matter. There was going to be drama no matter what.
If only I’d taken their calls, Princess anguished again. But how could she, knowing how Tai felt about her dating at all, much less dating Kelvin, the son of her father’s former paramour. And what was her dad thinking? It probably wasn’t as much about the fact that Kelvin was Janeé’s son as it was that Princess was sexually active at all. When it came to King Brook, his daughter could have been dating Jesus and there still would have been a problem. She and her dad had never talked about boys and sex. In his mind, she was still “Daddy’s little girl.” At least that’s what Princess imagined. It looked like she was about to find out what he was thinking, whether she wanted to or not. Damn, damn, damn!
The trio rode through the streets of LA, Princess giving directions, King navigating the rental car. Tai stared out the window. Conversation was limited, stilted. The beauty of the crisp December day went unnoticed. In what seemed like forever but was actually sixteen minutes, they pulled in front of Princess’s condo.
“This is where you live?” Tai asked.
Princess nodded. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” Tai looked over Princess’s head and met King’s eyes. King shrugged. “Nice neighborhood,” she added.
Please let everything be okay, Princess thought as she unlocked the door. The pungent scent of patchouli, not weed, greeted her. Thank God. Princess let out the breath she’d been holding. So far, so good.
“Wow,” Tai said as she stepped through the foyer into the open, airy living room. “Joni’s parents must have money!” Tai did a 360 turn, taking in the high ceilings, cherrywood floors, granite countertops, and luscious furniture. Except for the play station and video games scattered in front of the television and the lack of pictures and artwork on the walls, the place looked more like the home of a well-to-do couple than that of two college kids. Wait a minute…video games? Princess was never into the video game craze. Without asking, or the thought to ask, Tai walked down the hall.
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