The Dawn of Nia

by Lauren Cherelle

  I didn’t notice I’m on the edge of the seat, speaking loudly as I complain only inches from their ears. I lean back and snap myself in. “Y’all can be friends, but I’m giving us space. No more breakfasts… nothing.”

  She glances in the mirror. “For how long?” There’s concern in her voice.

  I’m too sad to tell her the possible truth. I can’t bring myself to say “maybe forever.”

  I’m surprised Tasha hasn’t shifted the subject by demanding a second-by-second account of what happened. She picked me up at Burger King for God’s sake. So she knows whatever occurred is inexcusable. Maybe she doesn’t want the details because details would make our severed friendship real. Instead of speaking anything into existence, we stop talking.

  Once I’m home, I head straight upstairs. I kick off my shoes and seek shelter under the sheets and comforter. The middle of my bed is safe and comforting. I desperately want Deidra, but I’m too tired to call her. I pray that when I wake up, morning will end the cycle of crap over the last seventy-two hours.

  43

  ARE YOU COMING or not? Shonda asks.

  I can’t think of another place I’d rather be right now. There’s nothing like chilling on the couch after dinner with my head resting in Deidra’s lap. I relax and text, giving her the courtesy of silence as she watches the news, her fingers stroking my forearm at random.

  Maybe next week I respond. I’m not in the mood for Thursday night happy hour.

  I’m surprised Deidra isn’t tired of my dragging mood by now. I’ve been laying around after dinner for three weeks, sometimes too caught up in my feelings about ending my friendship with Jacoby. I sort of feel like I’ve buried him alive— like the ghost of our friendship is haunting me.

  That’s why it felt so awkward running into Jacoby at work yesterday. I dropped my eyes to the tiled floor, following the squares to Cardiology while he made a beeline for the elevator door. Until yesterday, I’ve managed to avoid crossing paths with him, though Tasha speaks with him frequently. She’s dissatisfied with the rift in our friendship but respects our individual feelings.

  Deidra doesn’t support or discourage our dissolved friendship. “The ball is in his court now.” That’s all she said about it.

  I wanted Jacoby to meet me halfway; to acknowledge what happened and accept that we can’t change past emotions or failed hope. I wanted him to reach out and show that he cared enough to move forward. But, like Deidra told me, he’s responsible for his change. I let the leftover expectation fade from my heart. I have to lend my concern to other matters.

  Deidra and I resolved the friction from my lunch with Kayla. I’ve agreed to stay clear of enemy lines, and she’s agreed to not runaway during conflict. I don’t intend on contacting the Carters, but I care too much for Deidra to leave the matter alone. In particular, I’m worried about the anger she carries, but there’s no good way to approach this subject. I can’t get her to address the hurt and rejection. These thoughts fill my head until Caroline’s intruding voice alarms me.

  I lift my head to see the commercial on TV. I hear Caroline’s voice but hasn’t appeared on the screen. Evidently, this is the commercial Kayla mentioned. Carolyn promises “outstanding, affordable service to honor your loved ones regardless of race, religion, or denomination” as staff interact with patrons in the funeral home. The commercial ends with Caroline in a yellow dress suit delivering a service guarantee. As the image fades, I sit upright and turn to Deidra. I can’t believe she watched the entire thirty-second advertisement. This means her thoughts are swimming and I aim to catch them.

  I place my phone aside and ask, “How do you feel about that?”

  “About what?” she asks, drilling through the channel guide.

  “About seeing them in action.”

  She presses buttons on the remote control instead of acknowledging me. I reach across her lap and pull the remote from her hand. She waits a long moment and says, “That commercial reminded me that something has always been missing. But nothing can fill the void, so what’s the point?”

  “The point is to deal with it.”

  “I’ll deal with it the day after eternity.”

  “So you plan on feeling this way till the day you die?”

  Her eyes fall for a moment. “What do you expect from this conversation?”

  “You know that balance is necessary. They’ve had the upper hand in how you’ve experienced the world since birth. You need answers. Maybe answers will balance everything out and help you find some peace.”

  She crosses her arms. “You mean we need answers?”

  I think long and hard about my response because her frustration will spark anger and anger will close her off. “Baby, I’m trying to make sure that the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with is happy.”

  ~ * ~

  Deidra waits four days to continue this conversation with me. She makes breakfast and hands me a plate. “I understand why I need to reach out to them. But you want this more than me, so you need to call them.”

  I’m not going to argue with her about the accuracy of that statement. I eat while thinking about the best Carter to contact for a face-to-face conversation. This won’t happen until I make it happen.

  I know Mama C wouldn’t speak candidly. She would advocate for “moving on,” which will piss Deidra off. Caroline is confrontational. The talk would end with someone in the hospital. The middle sister doesn’t do anything without Caroline. Cookie, the youngest sister, is too passive.

  Actually, passive is a good match for Deidra’s assertive personality. And, Cookie can possibly relate to Deidra on a peer-to-peer level because she’s only four or five years older than her.

  Now that I have the right Carter, I have to choose the right location. We need an environment free of distraction, suitable for flaring emotions and biting honesty. After considering a few options, I settle on our living room— an environment I can control.

  The following morning I call the funeral home. I’m glad that a staff member answers rather than someone who would recognize my voice. I ask for Cookie and wait for the call to transfer. Cookie is surprised to hear from me but pleasant as usual. I cut to the chase with the purpose of my call.

  “Okay… why me?” she says. “Why didn’t you ask Caroline?”

  “Because this has to be a hands and drama-free talk.”

  She laughs. “Well, at first I was mad, too. But I washed my hands of the estate and all that mess last year.”

  I’m relieved. I knew she was a good choice. “So, you’re okay with clearing the air about your family history?”

  “It don’t matter if I’m okay with it. It’s something we need to do.”

  With that said, I schedule a date and time that works for her before sharing my address.

  Deidra isn’t thrilled about the confirmation but has three more days to get her heart and head ready. Saturday morning comes and she doesn’t mention Cookie’s pending visit. She cooks breakfast, completes chores, and goes to lunch with Shannon, arriving home an hour before the scheduled talk. She goes upstairs to lie in bed until I call to announce Cookie’s arrival.

  When I welcome Cookie inside, she sits on the loveseat, leaving a good amount of space between her and wherever Deidra sits. I don’t plan to interfere in their conversation, so I step out of the living room to sit at the dining room table. The distance permits me to hear everything with minimal presence.

  Deidra is taking forever to come downstairs. I return to the living room and chat with Cookie in the meantime. I mention the commercial and we laugh about Caroline’s ensemble. “I told her not to wear that loud Easter suit,” Cookie teases.

  Deidra comes down a few minutes later and greets Cookie, but she seems irritated by the small talk. She crosses her arms and side-eyes me. “Listen,” she says at a break in our chatting. I return to the dining room so she can proceed with Cookie. “Tell your folks to forget about the estate. It’s not happening.”

  �
�I think they get that now.”

  “Good. I’m closing the estate. The little bit of debt that Pat had I paid off months ago. So now I’m going to claim the life insurance money, withdraw the accounts, and sell the house and whatever’s left. All assets will be sold. Then I’m donating the sum to charity.” She glances at me and back at Cookie, whose expression is a mix of pain and astonishment.

  “What about your daughter?” Cookie asks. “She… she could use the money one day. Or you can put it away for her children.”

  “It just tears you up to know that well over three-hundred and fifty thousand dollars will go to complete strangers, huh? A lot of people believe that family is more valuable than money. But no one ever valued me, so you shouldn’t give a damn about the money. And why would I pass guilt money to my daughter or her children?”

  Cookie clears her throat. “Deidra, I don’t think Pat gave you everything because she was guilty.”

  “Then what would you call it?”

  Cookie shrugs. “Satisfaction. I think she gave you everything because she finally had a choice.”

  Deidra tilts her head, waiting for clarification.

  “You think Pat didn’t keep you because she was young. There’s a little truth in that. There was shame around her pregnancy, but it’s more than that, too. Pat…” Cookie briefly closes her eyes. “Pat was molested by our daddy’s brother. She didn’t tell anybody about what he was doing to her until she found out she was pregnant. She didn’t know if the baby was his or your father’s.” She exhales. “Madear and Daddy didn’t believe in abortions, and Madear’s mama wasn’t having it.

  “They sent Pat to live with our aunt in Florida until you were born and they could figure out paternity. I didn’t know what was going on back then ’cause I was only four. I knew Pat had a baby when she was fifteen, but I was well into my twenties before I found out about the sexual abuse and everything else. It was hard on everybody, but Daddy took it real hard. Madear and Daddy just wanted to put it behind them and create a life for Pat that didn’t include the pain of all that, and that meant pretending like she never had a baby.

  “A few years ago, Pat told me she regretted not being there for you, but… she was human… and she was part of a family with a reputation to keep. Back then Pat didn’t have a say. I think that’s why she changed her Will and left it all to you. It was her last chance to make a choice for your benefit.”

  Cookie’s words weigh heavily on my spirit. I thought I could remain quiet in my corner of the room but I’m itching for details. “Is he alive?” I ask.

  “He died in the nineties.”

  “Was he prosecuted?”

  “He went to prison. I don’t know how long though.”

  Pat’s secret didn’t surface until her funeral. Then Deidra partially filled in holes I never knew existed. Now, Cookie has smudged muddy, grit-filled colors onto the gray picture I painted about Deidra’s rejection. Nothing could have prepared me for the horror of Pat’s youth. More questions race through my mind but I don’t verbalize them. Cookie turns her attention to Deidra and I do, too.

  Deidra rubs the back of her neck and sighs. “Thank you for being the first in your family to show remorse for my experience.”

  Cookie nods. “Is there anything you wanna ask me?”

  “No, but I need a favor. I need certified copies of Pat’s death certificate.”

  “I can mail them on Monday.”

  And with that, the conversation ends. I thank Cookie for coming over and Deidra heads upstairs. I keep to myself, giving her a few hours of solitude.

  At dusk, I order Chinese food and Deidra eats with me. We sit in the living room and watch an on-demand movie. I wait until she’s eaten half of her fried rice to ask, “Are you all right?” She’s an open book once food hits her stomach.

  “I’m okay.”

  “When did you make a decision about the estate?”

  “The same night you told me I can’t take a grudge to the grave.”

  “So… how do you feel about what Cookie said?”

  She sighs. “I’ve always wanted to know why Pat didn’t want a relationship with me. I’ve always wanted more than my dad’s version of the truth. But Cookie she just validated the excuses. When Pat first called me about her Will, I got involved because I wanted to move past my anger. And I wanted them to stop running away from me. But… that backfired. My feelings were tied up in the estate, but I know I can’t hold on to them forever. The fact is Pat wasn’t there for me.”

  “I hear you… Baby, I think that—”

  “I knew it was coming.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

  “I knew you would say something.”

  “Dee, just hush and listen. Pat wanted you to have it all. Accept it. Think about what you can do with the money. Shannon can get through college debt free. Shit, I wish I could’ve got through school without taking out loans. Buy her a house one day. Open a business. Go to college. You like marketing. Go to school and get a degree. Do whatever. My point is that you did a lot to survive. You had to because of the decisions they made years ago. But you have to make better decisions now. Don’t make the decision from pain.”

  I hope I was more convincing than preachy. We’re silent until she leans over and kisses me. “I’ll invest the money.”

  “You decided that fast?”

  She laughs. “No! I’ve been thinking about this for a while. You’ve just encouraged me to actually do it. There aren’t too many Black women being handed small fortunes, so I think I’ll invest it. I don’t know anything about investments, but that’s what financial advisors are for. Shannon has never wanted for anything, so if I’m blessed to have grandchildren they can have the money. Or… you can have a baby.”

  Thankfully, I’ve swallowed my last bite to dodge choking. “We talked about this. You know I don’t wanna carry a baby. You’ve been there and done that.” A few months ago, we decided that after our three-year anniversary we would try to conceive. “You agreed to carry. I agreed to be at your beck and call. Right?”

  She winks.

  “Why’d you tell Cookie you were donating the money?”

  “Didn’t you see the pitiful look on her face? I couldn’t resist. And if they believe it’s all gone, they’ll leave me alone.”

  I wonder whether Cookie will relay today’s conversation to Caroline, and whether Caroline will make a last-ditch effort to save Pat’s estate. I’ll let Cookie deal with that. I’m just appreciative of Deidra’s peaceful formula to end the opposition.

  44

  “IT’S LAST MINUTE, but possible,” Deidra says. “The last weekend of October is still available for booking.”

  My birthday is two weeks from now and I don’t have plans to celebrate. I’ve experienced enough parties for half a lifetime. Deidra, however, wants to throw a big birthday bash at some venue in Germantown. “I’m good with dinner and a movie.”

  She frowns. “You only turn thirty once.”

  I ease into the turning lane. “What did you do for your dirty thirty?”

  “I went to Vegas.” She smiles at the memories. “Did some things that will go to my grave. But anyway, my work schedule has died down. I can do the party. I know a DJ and I can find a bartender, and I…”

  She rambles for a solid minute, attempting to change my mind. Though I’m unmotivated, I can’t completely neglect her enthusiasm. “Please keep it simple,” I say. “I just wanna hang out with the people I like the most.” This doesn’t include a long list of folks, so the coordination won’t be too much for her to handle. We reach our destination and head to the restaurant entrance to have dinner with Tasha and her girlfriend, Sabrina.

  During dinner, Tasha agrees to help Deidra ensure all the necessary people are contacted for my birthday gathering. They’re going to make me celebrate this year. The details of the occasion were to remain secret. Except Tasha— who still hasn’t mastered the skill of confidentiality— blurts out t
he location the day before my birthday.

  “Y’all are taking me to a pole dancing studio?”

  “I guess Deidra’s trying to tell you something,” she says and laughs. “But for real, it’ll be fun.” I press for more details, but Tasha won’t tell me. “Let me get off this here phone before I say something else I ain’t supposed to tell you.”

  I spend the first waking hour of my birthday responding to a flood of birthday wishes on social media and another half hour taking calls from family and old friends. While talking to Mama I receive a text from Jacoby: Hbd. I reply Thx. I stare at my phone, considering whether I should send another text to ask how he’s been lately.

  On second thought, I don’t want to send the wrong impression. I’m okay with the separation. Until he tells me otherwise, I’ll continue to assume he’s okay with it as well. At times, I can’t believe we’re keeping our distance. Usually, we’d piss each other off, complain to Tasha, and then bury the hatchet over breakfast. But it’s been over a month since I walked away from him. I miss accounts of his raunchy lifestyle and the variety he added to my sphere. But, I’m content with preserving the good times we shared and the reality of his friendship being a closed chapter of my life. I place my phone down and pick up my tablet again.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re awake?” Deidra asks, peeking through the doorway. She enters the room and joins me in bed. “Happy birthday, love… Oh, I just talked to Shannon. She said ‘happy birthday, old lady.’ ”

  I laugh and touch her chin. “You feel all right?”

  She sighs. “I’m okay.”

  I wish her mood were better, but given what she experienced this week the dull okay and heavy sigh are welcomed. The first emotional blow came right after she filed for divorce. Word of her pending divorce trickled through her grapevine of cousin-in-laws and friends in Virginia within forty-eight hours. One particular friend called to vent on Wednesday night, offended that Deidra had officially closed the door on her marriage and their close-knit naval community. This is the same friend that invited Deidra to stay in her home whenever she visited Virginia.