Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

  “I’m okay. I am. And I know you right…about the girls. I’m too easy on ‘em.”

  “They need limits. They can’t do whatever they want, Belinda. It sends the wrong message. To them and to the twins. What do you think’s gonna happen when Callie and Jenna get to be that age?”

  “You’re right. It’s just been a long time since I…umm…”

  Heziah stopped with only half his shirt unbuttoned and crossed the room to wrap me up in his arms. “You never stopped being their mama. Just ‘cause you didn’t see them doesn’t mean they weren’t still yours.”

  The whispers started long before I entered the classroom and didn’t stop once their eyes darted in my direction. Jackie and I were a year apart in school. She was a freshman, and I was a sophomore, but that didn’t curb my infamous sister’s reputation. Even folks in my year were talking Jackie. She hadn’t wasted any time making friends with the guys and enemies of the girls.

  “Hey, Mya.”

  “Hey.” I slid into my desk and began rummaging through my backpack for my homework assignment.

  “So…you hear about what happened at Gina T’s house Saturday?”

  “Nope.”

  Girls in my year only talked to me about two things—sports and Jackie—and they hardly ever wanted to discuss sports.

  “You know Virginia, right?”

  I didn’t. Not by name anyway. If she wasn’t on one of the school’s athletic teams, then she wasn’t really on my radar.

  “Well, she’s going with Nash. And I heard they got into a huge fight at Gina’s party. Something about him cheating on her with some freshman. You ain’t hear about it?” She waited for my response, pretending to be an innocent reporter of gossip. “You was at the party, right? I think somebody said they saw you there. You and your sister…what’s her name?”

  The morning went by a little slower than usual since the catty little girls finally had something meaty to sink their teeth into. I never understood folks’ obsession with mundane folks’ lives. Speculating about who did or said what to whom, it all seemed pointless to me. I couldn’t care less about who was going with whom, but on that day, I was the only one.

  The bell rang, signaling the end of the last morning period, and a flood of students rushed into the hallway. Some of us stood at our lockers, trading our books for lunch money, but most of the bodies were headed to their next class.

  “Hey, girl, you coming?” China breezed past me. She was on the track team with me and the closest thing to a friend that I had.

  “Yeah,” I nodded and intended to follow her toward the cafeteria, but a flash of movement in my peripheral vision resulted in a slight detour.

  The crowd was growing fast. Folks shouting ooos and ahhs, bumping against each other as they circled around the spontaneous spectacle that was blocking the hallway. I didn’t need to ask. The tightening in my chest was like a sixth sense.

  It was her hair that cinched it for me, flying a foot above her head with a vengeance all its own. Jackie spent more time in the mirror than any of us. Her makeup and hair routine took almost an hour. So, when Virginia’s fist grabbed a fistful of hair, my first thought was of all the work that went into it. I’d have been extra pissed if somebody tried to undo what took me an hour to create.

  Jackie responded in kind, growling as she shoved her opponent into the wall of lockers. That was the first sign that it wasn’t an evenly matched fight. My sister had been dodging and throwing punches since she was four years old. Took about thirty seconds before the crowd of onlookers saw the impending slaughter that had Virginia’s name on it.

  At first I thought the three girls had been thrust forward by the excitement of the crowd, but I was wrong. They knew each other. The three of them and Virginia, they were friends. Friends who stood up for each other when one of them was in trouble. In an instant, the odds had changed. Four against one. Jackie saw it too, but she wasn’t any closer to backing down. I took a breath and dove in.

  “What the hell was you thinkin’! Huh? Fightin’? Huh?” I intended to have a nice calm conversation with them but I was failing miserably. “You betta look at me when I’m talking to you two!”

  “Mama, they started it!”

  “Jackie—”

  “They did! We just walked by minding our own business!”

  Lord knows I loved my child, but she sure set her mind to testing my patience. The social worker said we shouldn’t expect the girls to act normal, like nothing had happened, like we hadn’t been separated from them for years. So, I was doing my best to be patient and understanding, ignoring the lies that slid so easy off Jackie’s tongue and the sadness that had crept up behind Mya’s eyes. I hoped it would all work itself out.

  “Mya, ain’t you got nothing to say?”

  The two of ‘em sat side by side on the couch, two sides of the same coin: one calm with not a hair outta place and the other with the beginnings of a black eye.

  “Mama, you want us to not defend ourselves? That ain’t right. Everybody got a right to defend theyself.”

  “Jackie—”

  “We wasn’t doing nothing but defending ourselves. Right, Mya?”

  Mya sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully. She wasn’t as friendly with lies as Jackie was. She hadn’t even offered a word in her own defense, staring out the window like she was hoping a familiar face would walk past our house.

  “Since you both been suspended, don’t think you gonna be sitting around here doing nothing. Got a lot of stuff ‘round here that need doing. Come on, let’s go. One of you gone sweep up them leaves in the yard, and the other can wash the windows.”

  “But, Mama—”

  “Girl, you say one more thing, and I’m gonna lose my mind!”

  Neither one of my girls wore repentance too well. No droopy shoulders and teary eyes from them. So, I ain’t expect it and a part of me was ready to give a little anyway.

  “I gotta go pick up Nat from school in a little bit. Y’all have your chores done by then, I won’t tell your daddy about this.” Mya’s stare turned ice cold, and I immediately wished I coulda taken it back. “I mean Heziah. I won’t tell him.”

  “Okay.” Jackie smiled, taking her sister by the hand. “You’ll see, Mama. We’re gonna be the best backyard sweepers and window washers you ever seen.”

  I don’t know about ‘em being the best, but they was still at it by the time the four of us was headed up the walk to the front porch. Mya worked the leaves into a pyramid while Jackie took a rest from singing and wiping down the windows to meet us at the top stair.

  “Hey, Mama, see how hard I been working? Got ‘em shining like brand-new now.”

  Even in her punishment, Jackie couldn’t turn off the charm. A good part of the reason I hardly ever bothered with it in the first place. It just rolled off her shoulders like rain off a steep roof.

  “Mama, how come they gotta wash windows?”

  “They lost their minds is what they did. This is what happens when you lose yo’ mind. Now go on inside. Take the twins with you.”

  Nat got as far as the screen door before turning back to ask Jackie if she wanted some help, and I stopped to watch. Couldn’t find the words to explain why that wasn’t posed to happen. It was a punishment not a group activity. Jackie saved me from having to explain by simply shaking her head.

  “You sure?” Nat’s brow wrinkled with concern. Like the manual labor might be too much for her big sister to handle. “Want me to get some clean water?” she asked, already reaching for the handle of the bucket.

  Maybe my girls could’ve used more discipline, but there was one thing they ain’t have no shortage of—loyalty.

  No one would argue the good reverend was an unintelligent man, but he didn’t recognize the word no. He allowed one or two not-to-my-knowledges or a few I-don’t-think-sos, but never a flat out no. Mya never took to his way of doing thing. On occasion it did become a bit irritating, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
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  “Nikki, honey, how’s your sister?” Darlene’s favorite question. She never stopped missing Mya, but at least, she could say her name without tears in her eyes. “Is she…adjusting all right? Must be weird for her to be back in that house. All those memories.”

  I wanted to ask why it would be hard for Mya and not for me. The memories belonged to both of us—me more so as the older sister.

  “Not too much lemon,” she reminded me. Darlene liked her iced tea a specific way.

  “Sorry, Mother.”

  From the day we first arrived on their doorstep, I found myself comparing their lives to what we left behind. Darlene’s kitchen didn’t differ too much from my mama’s. Cozier. Newer appliances. Plus where Mama’s kitchen made use of yellow tiles, Darlene’s had black and white.

  “I’m thinking about whipping up some potato salad to go with dinner tomorrow.” Darlene’s favorite hint. She smiled in my direction, hoping the added incentive would propel me to mention the possibility to Mya. Mya had nothing but the purest love for potato salad. She would eat anybody’s potato salad. Not me. I only liked Mama’s.

  “Should I peel the potatoes now or…”

  “No, I’ll do it.” Her smile evaporated, leaving only disappointment in its place. “Thank you, dear.”

  I nodded and slid the pitcher of freshly made iced tea onto the top shelf of the fridge. She still had me. I think it helped.

  “So, how are things over there? I mean as far as you can see. They getting back to normal?”

  I nodded. A lie because it didn’t feel normal. Normal would’ve been Daddy’s cologne wafting through the house. Would’ve put him at the head of the table, taking seconds and thirds, telling Mama she really put her foot in it this time. Normal would’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to the sounds of Daddy’s temper. Mya and me slipping into bed with Jackie and Nat, the four of us hiding under the covers until the house grew still again. Normal meant watching Mama pack on makeup the next morning. Smiling back at her while she sold us on everything being just fine. Things would never be normal again. Darlene didn’t understand that.

  “You could mention to your sister the reverend and I would love to get a call from her…whenever she gets a chance.”

  I nodded. Darlene may’ve been extraordinary at dropping hints, but she was terrible at picking up on them. Mya didn’t need any goading when it came to something she wanted. If she wanted to send word, she would have of her own accord. On top of that, she practically flew out the door when Mama regained custody. The reverend chalked up Mya’s eagerness to the freedom waiting for her at home. Darlene, on the other hand, convinced herself that my sister rushing out the door without so much as a nod meant nothing at all. I waited with bated breath for the day when she would have to look that truth in the eye.

  “Did I tell you I’m gonna be on the Honor Roll this quarter?”

  “Oh, how wonderful.”

  Darlene served dinner promptly at six—rain or shine. The clock over the stove read 5:53, and dinner rested in the warmer, waiting for the reverend to come home. Darlene took the seat next to me and covered my hand with hers.

  “I’m so proud of you. Now all we’ve gotta do is see you married. I was about your age when the reverend came calling.”

  “Mmhmm. Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you and the reverend about. I…”

  Heat rose into my cheeks and intensified. Why did I blush so easily? I wished she would look away while I got my thoughts together, but she’d picked up the vague scent of romance in the air. “I kinda met someone. He’s wonderful—perfect. He’s finishing his last year of medical school. He’s French and he…well, I think he likes me.”

  “An older man? Of course, he likes you!” By no measure was Darlene a tall woman, more on the short side, but she jumped up from the table with such vigor the motion added two inches to her height. “This is wonderful! I’m so happy. Thrilled! Oh, wait until the reverend gets wind of this!”

  “You think he’ll be okay with it?”

  If I waited any longer than eighteen to begin dating, then I would’ve been in danger of becoming an old maid. So, I let out a sigh of relief once Darlene dismissed my moral concerns.

  ◼︎

  Jean-Louis Grenier wouldn’t pass for an average boy. He’d probably never even been a boy. He abided by the ways of a proper, well-bred gentleman. The perfect man and my first suitor. How many girls could lay claim to that? Most of them flung themselves at unworthy boys but not me. I swore never to be cavalier with my body or my heart. After five dates, he picked up on my expectations and began making overtures about the future. Promises of diamonds and expensive vacations lined our conversations, and I smiled politely, careful not to appear too eager. I acted mature for my age. Mature young ladies didn’t lose their composure when young men paid them some attention, but when he suggested it was time my family met him, I couldn’t contain myself any longer.

  “He’s going to propose, I think!”

  “Mmhmm…,” Mya mumbled as she turned the page in her book. She was the first person I trusted with the information.

  “You’ll be my maid of honor. What color would you like to wear? Oh, and what kind of dress—I know you don’t love dresses, but you must wear one. It’s just for one night—or day—I’m not sure yet.” I gazed up at the ceiling of her bedroom, enjoying the lightness filling my head. “You think it should be an afternoon or evening wedding? What do you think of black-tie?”

  “Great,” was my sister’s quick response.

  “Evening is best, right? The twins are gonna be the cutest flower girls, and Natalie can be a junior bridesmaid, and I guess Jackie can be there. Mama would probably make a fuss if I didn’t invite her…” All at once panic ripped through my daydream. “Mya?”

  “Yeah.” She flipped another page and paused long enough to meet my eyeline.

  “Umm…you think Mama and Darlene will get along?”

  Mya shrugged defiantly as if to say she couldn’t care less.

  “What about Heziah and the reverend? I mean which one should I have walk me down the aisle? Of course Heziah’s been around longer but the reverend…he—”

  “Do whatever you want.”

  “You’re right. It’s not that big of a deal. The reverend will be happy to do the ceremony, but Heziah…I don’t know…since Daddy’s not here, I kinda wanna do what he would…I mean you think he’d be pissed if Heziah walked me down the aisle? Considering…you know…”

  Mya’s book fell a few inches, enough to reveal her pained expression. I could bear no more than a second of my sister’s pain and turned away from it. Staring straight ahead at the wall, I silently chided myself for the error. It was easy to do with Mya. She only half listened to what you said to her anyway.

  “I think you’ll like him. Jean-Louis I mean. He’s super smart. Like you. All that’s left is to keep him away from Jackie until the wedding.” I’d meant it as a joke or at least a half joke, but Mya didn’t find it funny at all. “You know she can’t help but throw herself at everything that moves.”

  My focus fell to my short, brittle nails, and as if powered by remote, I brought my right hand to my mouth, gnawing at them like a restless dog. A terrible habit. Drove everybody crazy, but I figured the world owed me one vice.

  “Mya?”

  She moved about the rectangular bedroom, tossed the book, which captivated her only moments before onto a pile of laundry, and dropped to her knees, searching under her bed. Common sense would’ve been to change the topic, but I forged on ahead anyway.

  “Mya.”

  “What?”

  “Jackie say anything about her foster father?”

  “Which one?”

  “Umm…the last one.” The total number didn’t matter for my purposes.

  “Nope. Why?”

  Common sense beckoned, directing me down a different path, giving me a second chance to leave well enough alone. I simply had to keep quiet, but secrets were n
ever my forte.

  “She seduced him.” I waited for Mya to deny it. For her to yell at me, accuse me of defamation or slander. I waited for what seemed like forever. “Mya?”

  “How you figure?”

  “I read it in her diary.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Of course she wouldn’t take my word for it. She’d want to see it for herself, in black and white. Too bad I didn’t have it anymore.

  “I gave it to Mama.”

  Soon as practice ended, coach called me into his tiny closet of an office. He closed the door behind me and told me to sit. Someone told him about the fight. I’d already had one teacher pull me aside to counsel me about my actions. So much to-do over a bunch of silly girls. Folks getting all worried that I might be improperly influenced. Doubted anyone thought to have the same talk with Jackie or the other girls involved in the fight.

  “Mya—”

  “Yes, coach.”

  “You’re smarter than this. Don’t let folks get you in trouble.” The file cabinet screeched loudly as he pulled out the drawer second from the top and began thumbing through the files. “Have you given any thought to college?”

  I nodded. I had five schools on my short list, all of them out of state.

  “Good. There’s going to be some college scouts at our next match.” The drawer closed, the motion drawing an equal amount of noise. “Here. Study these.” He held out a stack of glossy pamphlets with smiling athletes on the covers. “These are some good schools. A worthwhile opportunity for a girl with a good head on her shoulders.”

  Track was fun, but running had my heart. Didn’t need track to run. Didn’t need the crowds or my teammates. Had no dreams of the Olympics. I wanted a decent pair of sneakers on my feet and a way out. No more. No less. The competition and training that came with athletic programs had a downside too. Odds were I’d pull something sooner or later. Only a fool would plan to run forever. I nodded as coach continued his speech about college track and kept my logic to myself.