Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

  “You’re just jealous,” came Nikki’s usual retort.

  “Of you? Seriously? If I woke up one morning with your life, I’d shoot myself.”

  Nikki’s eyes began to water, and Jackie paused for a sip of her martini. She’d ordered a rum and Coke to begin with then progressed down the menu to the martini section. She’d barely touched her food, and four drinks later, I expected she was about to move on to the coffee liquors.

  “Y-You’re so mean.”

  “I’m just being honest. Right, Mya? I mean am I lying? Better to be dead than with a man who beats you.”

  “He doesn’t hit me!”

  “Why are we here?”

  “What?”

  I repeated myself, and Jackie squirmed in her chair. Nikki had forgotten that Jackie had called this meeting for a reason. A reason she refused to divulge until we met in person. At which time my sister decided to pick a fight. Obviously the reason for this little powwow was one she was dreading.

  “What is it?”

  She motioned for the waiter to bring her a refill, then began tapping her nails against the empty glass. “It’s Mama.”

  “She’s fine,” Nikki insisted. “It was all a mistake. She told me when I picked her up from the hospital.”

  Mama had lied. Surprise, surprise. I took another bite of my burger while Jackie laid out the truth for Nikki. Mama had cancer. She was not “just fine” as she liked to put it. Nikki looked to me to share in her shock, but I was never a very good actress.

  “She lied to me?”

  “That’s right, Nikki. Make it all about you.”

  “Did you know? Mya?”

  I took no pleasure in telling my sisters the truth. I was the first to know. Mama had clearly trusted I would keep quiet about it, not because she favored me, but because I could. Everybody knew I was the only one of my sisters that could keep a secret. Just wish she would’ve told me it was supposed to be a secret.

  “So, everybody knew except me…”

  Jackie was growing more irritated with Nikki’s focus every second that passed, so I moved the conversation along. “Is that it? That’s what you wanted to tell us?”

  “No.” She paused to accept her fifth drink and waited until the waiter had disappeared. “Mama wants us there when she tells Nat and the twins. Wants us to put on a good face so they don’t worry.”

  I nodded. “Just tell me when.”

  ◼︎

  “What did your sisters say about the baby?”

  “Nothing.”

  Darien jerked around to face me then sat at the foot of the lower bunk. “How could they say nothing?”

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  I wiggled my back to the cement wall and waited for him to ease into bed next to me and ask me why not. He didn’t do either. His profile was dominated by his nose that was both wide and pointy. His dreads fell forward over his shoulder as his stare lingered on the floor.

  “It wasn’t good timing.”

  In our journey from one foster home to another, Nat was my charge. If she had a problem with her homework or a classmate or squirted ketchup on her sweater, I was the one she looked to for a solution. I taught her to tie her shoes, to whistle “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and I was the one who introduced her to the cute little girl card and taught her how to use it. If it wasn’t for Natalie, I might’ve become an entirely self-absorbed person. She saved me from myself, and not a day of her life had passed that I wasn’t there for, so we were both disappointed that I was going to be living on campus.

  She sat in the center of my bed with droopy eyes as I tried on my third outfit of the night. My little sister had learned well. She started with a plea for practicality. Commuting to school would obviously be cheaper than paying room and board. Then she hit me with the sentimentality.

  “But, if you go…I’ll be here all by myself.”

  If it had been up to me, I would’ve told her the truth: Mama had made me promise. She wanted me to enjoy college life because she never got that chance. I couldn’t say no. Not now. Just like I wasn’t about to break Nat’s heart with the truth. I’d leave that for Mama to do.

  I stretched the black-and-white striped spandex over my body and turned to look at my ass in the full-length mirror. It was normally hard to ignore, but even more so given the graphic print.

  “Jackie!”

  I sighed and flopped down next to her, applying wet kisses across her forehead. “Come on, get up.”

  My mattress squeaked in agreement, and I dragged her before my closet. At fourteen years old, Nat was already my height. Minus my curves. I settled on a purple spandex miniskirt and a sheer sleeveless blouse with a black-and-white print.

  “Put that on, and then I’ll do your makeup.”

  “I…” She giggled, clutching the pieces in both hands. “I can’t wear this. Mama would kill me.”

  “Then I guess we’re not gonna tell her. Come on, sis, let’s go have us a good time.”

  ◼︎

  Friday nights at Club Francesco meant wall-to-wall bodies. Squeezing through the crowd, I bumped elbows with a few regulars who complained that I wasn’t on stage.

  “It couldn’t be helped,” I explained.

  Nat beamed in my wake and uttered, “This place is awesome.”

  The tables and chairs had seen better days, and the floor tiles were chipped in so many places it was easy to mistake them for a pattern. My sister’s eyes glazed over, taking it all in. I suppose the quaint charm had a certain amount of appeal.

  “Can we sit near the stage?” She didn’t even wait for my answer before weaving through the collection of unsteady tables to claim the only available one in the first row. “There’s Kem.” She waved eagerly as I joined her.

  He gave her a slow smile and a wink. My sister swooned like the teenage schoolgirl she was.

  “Hey Jackie. Mo sent this.” One of the waitresses stopped at our table to unburden her tray. A tall fruity cocktail, Mo had created especially for me, a shot of tequila, and a Shirley Temple for Nat.

  “Who’s Mo?”

  “My boyfriend.”

  “I thought Kem was your boyfriend.”

  The waitress smirked and went back to her duties, taking orders from the tables around us.

  “Not anymore. I’m with Mo now.”

  “But I like Kem.” She pouted, eyeing her drink suspiciously as if it would be a betrayal of Kem if she took a sip. “What kinda name is Mo anyway?”

  I shrugged and knocked back the tequila. I didn’t disagree with my sister on any particular point.

  “Is that alcohol?” She asked.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re not supposed to be drinking alcohol.”

  There were a lot of things I did that I wasn’t supposed to do. So, I smiled and explained that I could handle a few drinks now and then. Besides it was a special occasion. How many times was my little sister gonna have her first time in a bar?

  “Then I want some too.”

  No…The word slurred itself from one end of my brain to the other. Mama would kill me. Heziah would kill me. I was definitely supposed to say no to that request. I removed the straw from the tall cocktail glass and gulped down the fruity drink.

  “Don’t say I’m too young ‘cause I’m here. Just like you. And…and I just wanna taste it.”

  She must’ve seen the no in my eyes fixing to make itself heard because all the pleading evaporated from her voice, and she played the only other card she had. “Bet Mama would be real mad to find out you drinking again.”

  It had to be a mistake. I was pregnant. I was sure of it. My chest was swollen and tender, I’d never felt more tired, and I was two weeks late. I stared at the white stick waiting for the second line to appear. Maybe the test was defective.

  “Nicole.”

  “Coming!” I flushed the toilet and hurried to wash my hands. The woman in the mirror looked closer to forty than twenty-three.

  “Nicole.” A quick knock c
ame on the bathroom door.

  I simply needed to find a hiding place for the test with the defective results. Last thing I needed was Jean-Louis to see it.

  “Hi.” I smiled and yanked the door open so fast the air lifted a piece of my bangs. “Sorry. I’m ready.”

  We were going to meet one of his colleagues at an Italian restaurant nearby. He took a moment to take in my outfit then sighed with disappointment. His colleague wasn’t married, but he was sure to bring a date. Probably a girl with no aspirations and a size two body.

  “Here.” He thrust the telephone into my hand and spun on his heel. “We are leaving in two minutes,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Hello?”

  Mama’s voice came on the line. She said she wanted to remind me that Nat had to be at school tomorrow for freshman orientation. Apparently, Nat and Jackie were both spending the evening with me, and Mama didn’t want them up too late.

  “Don’t worry, Mama.” Killed me to lie for them, but the last thing Mama needed was an extra reason to worry.

  Maybe this girlfriend of his didn’t actually exist. He never mentioned her. Never brought her around. No one I knew had ever laid eyes on her.

  Kem parted the crowd of adoring women, smiling shyly at their overtures, and disappeared down the dark corridor alone.

  Nat let out a perky burp and covered her mouth in surprise. “Oops.”

  Beer had that effect on me too, which was why I preferred harder liquor. But I’d sequestered my baby sister to Budweiser and similar frothy options.

  “Can I have…some of yours?”

  Madonna’s words, “like a virgin,” came to mind, and I shook my head. One was enough.

  “Puh-lease!”

  “I said no. Stop begging.”

  Mo was surrounded by wanting customers. It was the perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed.

  “Where you going? I’m coming too.”

  “No. Sit here. I’ll be back.”

  He was alone in the dressing room, his finger whisking against his gums, and a line of cocaine stretched across the mirror on his lap.

  “Want some company?”

  The last line disappeared up his nose. My ex-boyfriend and current lover wasn’t in a sharing mood. He closed the door behind me and attacked the distance between us with slow silent steps. If we’d ever truly been friends, those days were long gone. The hairs along my spine stood at attention as my body anticipated his touch. Strong. Soft. Sweet. Where did a good Catholic boy from Columbia get such lovemaking skills? His fingertips whisked gently across my shoulders, and I resisted the impulse to shiver instead moving out of his reach.

  “Not talking, huh? That’s fine. Good actually.” My mind grasped aimlessly for something to say and out popped, “I wanted to talk about what happened. Last time.”

  I didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to talk. By all indications, he couldn’t talk, and I apparently couldn’t shut up.

  “We shouldn’t do that. What we did. The other day.”

  Even as I said it my heart began its protest. What did I know? My heart was the expert in all things Kem Delgado, and she didn’t like being told no. I centered my gaze on his nose, carefully avoiding the eyes that were still working their magic on me.

  “I’ve gotta boyfriend.”

  “I do not care. Do you?”

  Of course, I did.

  “Mami?” He was again within reach.

  “I’m not a cheater.”

  Yes, you are! Cheater, cheater, cheater! screamed my heart. I was dating Mo, sure enough, but she had never given her consent. Never wavered for a moment. Still hung up on the beautiful brooding guitarist…

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Touch me.” That’s right. I got dressed and dragged my fabulous ass down here just to tell you not to touch me.

  “You don’t like it when I touch you here? How about here?” He grinned, enjoying the tease as much as the touch. “You’re not talking, mami.”

  The table nudged my behind, reminding me there was nowhere to run. It’s top, clean and oh-so inviting, sliding underneath me without a plan or an order; my thighs spread upon contact with the flat surface. Why had I come back here? What did I think was going to happen?

  “I am going to kiss you.”

  “Okay.”

  Kissing wasn’t cheating.

  ◼︎

  Between the moans, there was a thud. His palm slammed against the table in defiance, never would he succumb so easily. He would fight it. He would win.

  “Mmm, that’s it, papi.” My legs floundered around his waist, my naked bottom streaking across the table. “D-Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

  Somewhere between the panting and the prayers of ecstasy, I was aware of a third person in the dressing room. A figure dressed in black and white, hurling expletives at us. Kem pulled away from me, turning to see where the words were coming from. It all happened so fast. I ducked for a second to pull my dress down, and by the time, I looked up Kem was leaning right to dodge Mo’s fist. The miss threw Mo off balance, and his second attempt at contact was even less successful. They continued in that manner. It looked something like a ritualistic dance. Mo’s fists went flying, and Kem responded with sweeping blocks and graceful dodges. I was vaguely aware that I should’ve been cheering for the home team, but my boyfriend’s defeat was too damn hilarious. Ricky Morrow came to mind, and I wondered if he was looking down on the scene, grumbling about Mo’s lack of technique. It was official. Not only was I a cheater, but I was caught. Thank goodness for the liquor padding my senses, otherwise I might’ve been able to see my way through the haze of sex I was reluctant to abandon.

  “Hey,” Kem called, worry seeping into his voice.

  Mo had turned his attention to me. His lying, cheating, alcoholic, girlfriend. Only he chose a more colorful word than girlfriend. It didn’t bother me that he was only a foot or two away. As much as I despised it, Ricky Morrow’s blood ran through my veins. Even though my blood was probably two parts liquor and one part narcotics, that still left enough Morrow chick to handle his tepid ass. But it didn’t get that far. Kem locked Mo’s neck in the crook of his arm and dragged him backward.

  “You don’t touch her.” He released Mo and quickly stepped between us.

  “You can have her! I don’t give a shit anymore!”

  My heart sank. Mo didn’t want me? So much for all that love he claimed to have. He stormed out of the dressing room, and Kem turned to face me. My heart went a flutter. Kem loved me. Kem wanted me.

  “Are you okay, mami?”

  I nodded and nearly knocked the wind out of him with one kiss. Desperate I’d never been, but there I was hanging off his body, clutching to his clothes with a fever that would’ve embarrassed a modest woman. We made it back to his apartment in a frantically aroused state, tossing clothing and underwear along the way to his bedroom. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized I’d forgotten something. Someone.

  “Are you insane? You just left her!”

  “But I-I’m okay, Nikki…”

  “No, you’re not. You’re scarred and don’t even know it. What if I wasn’t here when she called? What if I couldn’t get to her in time? Are you listening to me?”

  Natalie sat on the ottoman between us, shoulders slumped forward, carrying the burden of the disaster that was last night. I would’ve confiscated the disgusting outfit she was wearing, but there was no way she’d fit into anything I owned. It wasn’t her fault. Not by an inch. The rumpled sex kitten hiding behind black sunglasses was to blame. She’d probably dragged my innocent little sister to that club and abandoned her for the very same reason—she was a self-involved little thing. Doped up on God knows what.

  Jackie folded both arms against her chest and sighed. “I’m sorry Nat. You’re okay, right?”

  Real apologies didn’t come from behind sunglasses, but Nat didn’t seem to mind. She still looked on Jackie as if she were a rock star.
/>
  “Do you know how lucky you are that nothing bad happened to her? What were you thinking taking her to that place anyway? You have seriously lost your mind!”

  Jackie’s left hand went to her temple, and she asked me to keep it down.

  “I will not!”

  “God, Nikki! I made a mistake! As you love to point out, I’m not perfect. Come on Nat. Let’s go.”

  “How are you getting home?” I followed behind them, hands firmly planted on my hips.

  Jackie didn’t bother with an answer, she opened my front door and led the way to the sedan parked at the curb. Kem Delgado was waiting behind the wheel. He was up and out of the car in time to open the passenger door and the one behind it. Had everyone fooled with that gentleman routine, but not me. I could see straight through it. He was as bad as Jackie, and she was never going to change as long as he was in her life.

  “Mommy?”

  The outline of one of the twins appeared in the doorway, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to see her face.

  “She’s gotta rest, Callie,” came Jackie’s voice along with the weight of the big homemade quilt Clara had made years ago.

  It was the fifth layer Jackie had piled on me, and I was still freezing. “You want something?”

  It was time for their afternoon snack. I’d promised them popcorn and Kool-Aid.

  “No, Mama. Stay in bed.” She tucked me in tight and promised to be back in a minute.

  Aunt Clara had done the same ten years before. Put me to bed, tended to my wounds, and made sure my girls had everything they needed until I got my strength back. Pecan girl, God must’ve been feeling real good the day he made you, she’d said. Clara would be almost seventy now. I wondered how Mississippi was treating her. We’d lost touch after everything happened with Ricky.

  “Mommy, you want some?” Jenna held out a freezer bag filled with freshly popped corn.

  I shook my head, or at least, I meant to. Every part of me was shaking, so I guess that counted.