by Tracy Brown
Jada fluffed up one of the seven pillows on her bed, and laid her head on it. She closed her eyes, and could see Born’s face so clearly. She could see his lips vividly, lips she used to love to kiss, lips that had taken her to ecstasy countless times. Jada opened her eyes, hating herself for ever going back to where she swore she’d never go, back to the drugs and the crazy lifestyle, and leaving Born and all his love for her behind.
She picked up the phone and dialed the cell phone number quickly, before she could think better of it. She listened as the phone rang several times, and she tried to control herself, tried to calm down. After five rings, Jada got ready to hang up. But as she pulled the phone away from her face, she heard his voice.
“Hello?” Born sounded like he was asleep. She put the phone back to her ear and waited. “Hello?” he repeated, his voice husky, and so damn sexy after all these years.
Jada sat there in the silence of her bedroom, and realized that she had no idea what to say. She hung up without uttering a word, and she buried her face in the pillows. Damn! He still had a voice that melted her like butter. Jada’s heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she hugged her pillow close to her. The man still had the power to make her weak.
Born woke up to the ringing of his cell phone. The caller ID read “Unknown Number,” and he wondered who would be calling him this late from a private number. He couldn’t sleep as it was, although he had been lying in the dark for about two hours. He got out of bed, and walked into his son’s room. He saw Ethan sleeping peacefully, and he was content with that. Born walked downstairs and sat on the couch in the dark. His eyes were completely adjusted to the moonlight glowing in the windows. He sat down, and once again, she was on his mind. Jada. He wondered if it was she who had called.
Born fell asleep on the sofa downstairs, sitting alone in the dark, thinking about the past. He dreamed that they were all together again: him, Jada, Dorian, and Sunny, all together in a car, driving to an unknown destination. In his dream, Dorian looked over at Born riding shotgun. The ladies were chattering as usual in the backseat. Dorian smiled at Born, and said, “I been in this game a long time, my nigga. You feel me? I’ve seen a lot of things, and met a lot of people, made a lot of connections. But you are the best friend I’ve ever had. You got what it takes to do everything I did, and then some. So remember this. You only get one shot, Born. You hear me? Just one shot.” He held up his index finger to illustrate his point.
In his dream, Born didn’t ask what Dorian meant, because in his heart, Born already knew. He meant that you only get one shot at life. And you damn sure better not waste it.
39
BURYING THE PAST
Jada woke up the next morning with the difficult task of her mother’s wake looming ahead of her. The viewing of Edna Ford’s body was to be held that evening at seven o’clock, and Sunny had agreed to watch Sheldon while Jada handled her daughterly obligations. Jada wanted to spare Sheldon at least one day of sadness and grief. He would attend his grandmother’s funeral, but he didn’t need to be present at her wake. The wake was still hours away. Jada sat at the breakfast table, amazed that Sunny had prepared French toast, eggs, and sausage all by herself.
“Girl, I didn’t know you had it in ya!” Jada munched on the soft, sweet bread drenched in syrup. “You have never been domestic. When did you learn to cook?”
Mercedes and Sheldon smacked their lips as they devoured Sunny’s breakfast. Sunny laughed, pleased that everyone was enjoying her cuisine. “I learned how to cook after Mercedes was born. Even though I have Jenny G., I still like to cook for her myself every now and then.” Jennifer Gonzalez was Sunny’s housekeeper. She came by every day, except Sundays, to clean up Sunny’s spacious high-rise apartment, and to prepare meals for her and Mercedes. Sunny paid Jenny G. a very competitive wage, and in turn she got whatever she needed from the Dominican woman. She cooked, cleaned, ironed, ran errands, answered phones. Whatever Sunny wanted, Sunny got it, and Jenny G. was more than happy to do it. After all, she was an illegal immigrant who spoke little English. Sunny spoke Spanish, thanks to her mother, and was happy to have her daughter exposed to a second language as well. In spite of her lack of credentials, Jenny G. was getting paid in full, and she knew well enough to shut the fuck up and jump whenever Sunny told her to. Jada had never guessed that Sunny knew how to cook. For Sunny, it wasn’t that she didn’t know how to do it. She just very seldom wanted to do it. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me,” Sunny said, winking at Jada.
Jada laughed. “Yeah right. I know everything there is to know about you, Sunny. I could write a book on your behind!”
Sunny smiled big at the thought of that. She nodded. “And it would be a bestseller!”
The women slapped each other five, and enjoyed their food. When the kids were done eating, they went to watch TV, and Sunny looked at her friend from across the table. Jada looked bewildered. “What?” she asked.
Sunny folded her arms across her chest, and sat back in her seat. “Last night, when we went to bed, I did a lot of thinking before I fell asleep. You should call Born. He’s obviously thinking about you.” She shoveled some food in her mouth, and looked at Jada expectantly.
Jada shrugged. “That’s easier said than done,” she said. “I mean, I would definitely like to talk to him. But what would I say? Where the hell do I even begin?” She shook her head. “I’ll think about it.”
She finished her breakfast and then went to get dressed. Jada put on a black Donna Karan pantsuit and went on her way to her mother’s wake. She paused at the door, and looked at her watch. “Ava’s supposed to meet me at the church before the wake begins. We’ll finish talking when I get back,” she said to Sunny as she kissed Sheldon good-bye. Jada headed down the driveway and got inside her SUV. Sunny shut the door and returned to the living room, while the children played in Sheldon’s room.
Sunny sat on the sofa and looked at the photo albums stacked on Jada’s coffee table. She picked one up, flipped through it, and saw a picture of Jada and her sister as children. They looked like two peas in a pod. She saw some other pictures that she assumed were pictures of family members whom Sunny didn’t recognize. And then she saw it.
A picture of Born at the birthday party they’d thrown for him aboard the cruise ship was on a page all by itself. Born was smiling, his dimples prominent. She looked at the man standing beside Born with his arm flung over his young apprentice’s shoulder. Dorian. He looked so happy, with his sexy smile gracing his brown face. The stars over New York Harbor twinkled in the background, and Dorian’s eyes seemed to sparkle just as brightly.
Sunny sighed, and thought about how things had changed after her confrontation with Dorian that night. Born’s party had taken place on the same night she had confronted Dorian about his infidelity, and he had confronted Sunny about her addiction. With Dorian’s help, Sunny had cleaned herself up. Dorian had helped her every step of the way. She thought about how much she loved that man. How much she truly missed him. Sunny shed some long overdue tears, and she reminisced on the love they’d had. Damn, she missed him. Not a day went by that he didn’t cross her mind. Sunny sat there alone, and cried for the love she’d been stripped of way too soon.
Meanwhile, Jada entered the church on Richmond Terrace, and smelled a sanctuary full of flowers that had been sent over to commemorate Edna Ford. Edna had been heavily involved in the church, and was a born-again Christian. Over the years, she had become a fixture at Sunday service, and at Wednesday night Bible study. And during the time that Jada had lived with Edna, she’d accompanied her mother to church every Sunday. The whole congregation had embraced Jada. And she had learned that you don’t have to pray using big words, or a scripted monologue. You could speak to God from your heart, and he would still hear you, and still listen. Jada had prayed at the altar countless times, holding her mother’s hand. She’d prayed for strength to stay clean and sober, and she hadn’t touched any drugs in eight years. She had prayed for a job
so that she could support her son, and one of the members of the congregation had helped her get the job she now held at the magazine. She had prayed for forgiveness for all the things she’d done wrong in the past, and that she continued to do wrong. And she hoped that God had heard, and had answered that prayer as well. These days Jada no longer went to church every Sunday. Instead, her appearance at Sunday service was more like an event that took place quarterly. But she still prayed every day, and she was grateful that her mother had brought Jesus into her life. She sure did need Him now.
She saw the undertaker from Sanderson Funeral Home standing at the altar near Edna’s casket, preparing the body for the viewing at that evening’s wake. Jada’s heart caught in her throat, as she realized fully, for the first time, that this was it. This was final—death. Her mother was gone forever, and she’d never get the chance to play cards with her or cook with her, or even to pray with her, again.
But that was her reason for being an hour early. The wake began at eleven o’clock and it was only ten. Jada needed some time alone with her mother. She allowed the undertaker a few minutes to complete his duties, and then she gingerly stepped closer to the coffin. Her mother lay there, her body thin and frail, and her hands folded across her belly. Jada looked at her mother’s face, and she smiled. Her face was still as lovely as it had been when Jada was a little girl, staring at her mother in awe.
Her gaze fell again to the hands that told the true story. Her mother’s hands, with wrinkles and veins looking as twisted as the journey Edna had taken through life. Edna’s hands were folded across her stomach—over her womb. Jada thought of the irony of Edna’s hands being clasped over her womb—the same womb that had held her and Ava. But in Jada’s memory, the womb was the only time Edna had offered protection to her young daughters. Once they had emerged into the hard, cold world, Edna had let them fend for themselves. But when she had needed her most, Edna had finally stepped up and given Jada the love and attention she had needed to clean up her act. Edna had saved not only her relationship with Jada, but also Jada’s relationship with her son.
“Wow,” she said, wiping the tear that had rolled down her right cheek. “I think you look lovely in that dress.” Jada had chosen the cream-colored silk dress for her mother, thinking she would look pure and free. Looking down on her mother now, Jada thought she looked angelic.
“I don’t even remember the last time I actually told you that I love you,” she said, gently touching her mother’s body. “But I do. I love you.”
“She knows you do, Jada.”
The voice came from behind her, and Jada spun around to face it. She smiled through her tears, as she saw her sister standing there. Ava looked amazing as usual. Her long hair still hung past her shoulders. She wore a tailored black suit, and her figure was flawless. Ava took off her Gucci shades and closed the distance between them, walking toward Jada. Jada wanted to jump for joy as she embraced her sister, still crying. When she hugged Ava, it felt the same way it had the night that they had cried together before Ava’s suicide attempt. Once again, they were scared little girls from Brooklyn left to find their way together. Once again, they were yearning for their mother’s protection, which would never be theirs again.
Their hug was so intense that they clung to each other, both of them needing their sister for strength. Ava finally pulled back and looked at Jada.
Jada smiled, but it quickly faded. “I don’t know how I feel about this.” Jada was being entirely honest. “I don’t know if I feel more happy that she’s not suffering through treatment anymore, or sad that she’s gone.” Jada wiped her eyes. Sadness and pain weighed heavily on Jada’s heart. She looked silently at her mother’s dead body and held tightly to her sister’s hand.
Ava looked at her sister and said nothing for a few silent moments. Then she led her to the very first pew in the church nearest their mother’s casket. She sat down, and Jada sat beside her, and they looked at each other.
Ava crossed her legs, and propped her elbow on the back of the cushioned bench. “Mommy loved you more than anyone else in this world,” she said.
Jada shook her head in disbelief. She knew that Edna had cared for her, but surely Ava must have been her favorite. Ava had done everything right. She had never gotten addicted to any drugs, never been arrested. Ava was the “famous” attorney who Edna always bragged about when she was working on high-profile cases. Ava was well traveled, and wasn’t weighed down by a relationship or kids. She was free, and living her life perfectly. Jada was just the black sheep of the family who had turned her life around in time and had managed to become a success after being a failure for so long. “I don’t think that’s true,” Jada said.
Ava grinned. “I’m telling you, Jada. During the years that you weren’t speaking to Mommy, me and her did a lot of talking. I would come back to New York to check on her, and to see if she was lonely, or if she needed anything. And every time I came to see her, she talked about you. She admired you so much, even when you were strung out. I have her personality. I’m reserved, and I play it safe, and all that. But Mommy said that you were more like Daddy. She said that he was never the type to back down from a fight. That he was fearless and bold and sometimes loud.”
Both sisters laughed, knowing that Jada had been a hell-raiser in her youth. Ava continued. “But Mommy admired that about you. She said that you got all the strength that she never had. And she said that you were stubborn, and that was why you had such a hard time forgiving her. But when you went to live with her, she was the happiest I had ever seen her, Jada. She had you back, and she was so glad. She knew that you forgave her. Even if you never said it. Because actions always speak louder than words. She knew that she had your forgiveness. And you should know that you had hers, too.” Ava looked at her sister, still beautiful after all the storms she’d weathered. “I used to be so jealous of you, Jada.”
Jada frowned, and looked at her sister in surprise. “Jealous of what? You lived your life way better than I did.”
Ava smiled. “Exactly. I felt like I had done it all the right way. And yet you still managed to get all the attention, all the time. You got the great guy. Born was so sweet, and so handsome. You had the cool girlfriend, and the fabulous wardrobe. The day I walked in on you getting high, you said that I was jealous, and wanted what you had. In a way that was true. And even Mommy longed for you. I always knew she loved me, and that she was glad that I forgave her. But she missed you. She was incomplete without you. She wanted your forgiveness so badly. And when she got it, she started living again. I was hating a little sumthin’.”
Jada smiled, amazed, because she’d never suspected that this was the case. “Well, you never showed it. I wouldn’t have guessed that. For so long I was jealous of you, too. But I think she loved both of us equally. She was probably just happy that I managed to clean up my life’s mess.”
The pastor entered the sanctuary, and cleared his throat. He saw the siblings in the midst of what had obviously been an emotional discussion, and he was sorry he had to interrupt.
“Ladies, it’s eleven A.M. now, and I see some cars pulling up. I just wanted to let you know, so that you can prepare yourselves for that.” Reverend Wilkins was a distinguished older man in his fifties. His salt-and-pepper hair was always styled to perfection, like Steve Harvey’s, and his suit was well fitted. He was a good man, with a virtuous wife and a devoted following. He smiled warmly at Edna’s daughters, and felt like he knew them well. Edna had spoken of them during her testimonies over the years. She’d shared with them the pain of having a daughter addicted to crack, and then the pride of having a daughter turn a horror story into a success story. He had prayed with Edna for Jada’s recovery, prayed that God would loose the young lady from her shackles. And he hoped that Edna could see now that prayer really changes things.
The sisters thanked the pastor for his help, both of them shocked that an hour had passed so quickly. Jada turned to her sister, and felt the sorrow they both w
ere cloaked in. She said, “I know I should have told her this more often when she was alive, but I loved her. I love you, too, Ava. I mean that.”
Ava smiled, big and beautiful. “I love you, too, Jada.” They hugged, and fixed their clothes in preparation for the process of greeting the well-wishers.
“Where are you staying while you’re in town?” Jada asked.
Ava shrugged. Jada nodded. “You’re staying with me.”
Ava smiled, took her sister’s hand, and they greeted the mourners who came to bid farewell to Edna Ford. It was the end of one chapter, and the beginning of one brand-new for them, as their sisterly bond was renewed.
When Jada arrived back at her house, with Ava in tow, Sunny was sitting on the couch with the kids, cracking up at an episode of South Park. Jada shook her head as she entered, and said, “You know damn well these kids don’t need to be watching this, right?”
Sunny turned around, and saw the two sisters. It was Sunny’s first time seeing Ava since 1996. She stood up, and hugged Jada’s sister, truly happy to see her after all the time that had passed. She stood back and looked at her, noting that her suit was Prada and her shoes Manolo Blahniks. Yes, Miss Ava had done alright for herself.
Ava smiled at Sunny, thrilled to see the woman she had always secretly looked up to. Ava liked Sunny’s outgoing nature and her bubbly personality. Sunny had a vivacious spirit that neither tragic loss nor addiction had been able to break. She was thirty-six years old, and she still looked twenty-one. She was a diva without trying to be.
“You look fabulous,” Ava told Sunny, looking at her outfit. Sunny was dressed in painted-on DKNY jeans, cuffed at the calf, with a pair of Prada boots and a Prada blouse. Her diamonds gleamed in the light, from her ears, neck, wrists, and fingers. She looked brand-new.
Jada looked at Sunny, and frowned. “How did you change clothes?” she asked.