by Rita Ewing
As Nona watched Anna, she had sobbed until her chest ached. Her cries came from more than just empathizing with her friend. It was the mental anguish that twisted Nona’s guts at the thought of what she’d do if she lost Kelly.
For weeks after the funeral, it was as if Anna’s soul had been buried with Todd. She disappeared from life, leaving her husband and friends feeling powerless to help.
Nona had visited Anna daily, but besides hello and goodbye, Anna spoke no words in between. Nona would sit with her friend for hours as Anna gripped her son’s picture, thrusting it into her chest as if the act would bring him back to life.
“There’s nothing I can do for her,” Anthony had grumbled to Nona at the time. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“She’s grieving,” Nona tried to explain.
“So am I, but who’s here for me?”
Nona had tried to console Anthony too, but her concern was for Anna.
Then almost six weeks after Todd’s death, Anna appeared at the gym.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Nona had said, squeezing her friend in a hug.
Anna had even tried to smile. “I have to do something.” Her words sounded as if they were coming from a robot.
“Good. Are you here to take my class?”
Anna nodded and turned toward the locker rooms. As she walked, she talked over her shoulder. “Nona, I need a new trainer,” she had said without emotion. “If I’m going to stay at Brickhouse, I don’t want Allen anymore.”
Nona had wanted to convince Anna to stay with Allen. She was sure that if the two continued to work together, they’d be able to wade through the issues that hung between them like a guillotine.
But Nona could tell that her friend was teetering on a thin emotional cord, and she wasn’t going to be the one to tear the rope. “Let me work on that for you,” she said just before Anna reached the double smoked-glass doors that led to the dressing area.
Anna nodded as she held the door handle. “Tell Allen to stay away from me.” This time, emotion oozed from each word. She spewed so much hate that Nona had to take a step backward.
Nona remembered she had simply nodded as tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t believe Anna still blamed Allen for Todd’s death; however, there was no way she could convince her friend.
But now as she looked at Anna, with her fingers fluttering with the words she spoke, there was no sadness in her.
“So what do you think, Nona?”
Nona blinked, trying to focus on Anna’s words. “It sounds good. You know I’m behind anything you do.” Nona meant those words. She would do anything for her friends, but this was also coming at the perfect time–it could be an opportunity for positive exposure, right during the zoning hearings.
Nona continued, “What made you think of this?”
Anna shrugged. “Maybe I’m ready to be more than the mayor’s wife. Lord knows there’s not much to do in that position besides hobnobbing with the socialites.” She sighed. “And this would be my project. I plan on doing everything from selecting the board to being involved in all the fund-raising.”
“That’s terrific.”
“And maybe I’ll get the chance to actually use my degree.”
“I don’t know why you say that, Anna. You do a lot with–”
“Everything I’ve done in the past few years has been in the name of getting Anthony elected or in the name of being the mayor’s wife. This will be for me.”
Nona nodded. She knew more than anyone how important it was to have your own thing. “I understand. Now, I have something to ask you. How involved is Anthony with all of this rezoning stuff going on in Harlem?”
Anna shrugged. “He’s mentioned it; I know he’s on the committee, but I don’t know much about it.” She leaned forward. “It’s not really going to affect Brickhouse, is it?”
It was Nona’s turn to shrug. “We’re trying to make sure it doesn’t.”
“The rumor is they might close down …” She paused and looked around the restaurant. “I don’t even want to say it.”
Nona waved her hand in the air, dismissing Anna’s words. “Don’t worry. But do you think you can toss a letter from me on top of Anthony’s in-box?” Nona laughed, but she was only half joking.
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll talk to Anthony, see where he stands, and get back to you.” Anna squeezed Nona’s hand. “This is the reason you have friends in high places.”
Nona smiled. “Let’s hope that’ll be enough. Now, didn’t we come here to eat?”
“Yeah, but you know what? Now that you’re on board, I could use this time to make some calls.” She looked at Nona beseechingly. “Would you mind if I took a rain check?”
“Go ahead,” Nona said, waving her hand. “Get busy and keep me posted.”
Anna air-kissed Nona’s cheek. “I’ll see you on Monday. If I find out anything about the rezoning before then, I’ll call.”
Nona grinned as Anna glided toward the front of the restaurant, her stride filled with her newfound passion.
But suddenly Nona frowned when she saw Allen appear at the café's entrance. She jumped from her chair. “Anna,” Nona called, even though she knew her friend wouldn’t hear her over the blend of conversation and background music that mixed to compose a melodic hum in the air.
Nona lowered herself back into her chair and watched Anna engineer her way through the maze of tables. She held her breath as Anna’s path came closer to colliding with Allen. A second later, they were face to face. They both paused. Nona couldn’t tell if words were exchanged, although she was sure they didn’t speak. They hadn’t in five years.
Anna rushed away, out of Nona’s view. Nona stood again, but Allen’s eyes told her to sit as he moved toward her table.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, his eyes filled with the same sadness Nona saw every time Allen and Anna met.
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know–”
“It’s hard to time these things. I thought Anna had left a long time ago.” He shook his head. “I want it to be over. Hell, I never wanted it to start.” Allen lowered his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder … maybe Anna’s right. Maybe Todd’s death is my fault.”
“Stop it, Allen.” She covered his hand with hers. “How were you supposed to know that Todd was taking steroids?” she asked him the way she always did when she saw the shroud of guilt blanket him. “My goodness, after all you’d been through with that terrible stuff.” She shook her head. “There was nothing you could do.”
Allen held her gaze for a moment, then looked away.
“It wasn’t like you were his supplier or encouraged him. You were just training him. You know how dangerous …” Nona sighed. “Anyway, Anna just needs more time. She wishes that you had been able to stop him from taking those damn steroids.”
When he turned back to her, his eyes spoke for him. Isn’t five years enough?
“She lost her son–her only child,” Nona said, answering his unasked question. “Everyone handles grief differently. She’ll come around.”
The way Allen nodded his head let Nona know that he wanted to believe her words. She wanted to believe them too.
Allen stood. “Anyway, I came in here for some juice.”
“Are you all right?” she asked, taking his hand.
“I will be as soon as I can convince Anna–”
“I’m not talking about that. Leila asked me if there was something going on with you, and I told her no. But now that I look at you, you seem kind of … I don’t know … flushed. Like you’re not feeling well.” She tilted her head. “I noticed it yesterday too, but I thought you were just tired.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just Anna. And you’re right. I am a bit tired.” He forced himself to smile. “You know, I’ve been doing double duty around here.”
“And I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”
“I know. But you know I’d do anything for you, Nona.”
/> “Hey, Mom.”
They both glanced up to see Kelly approaching the table.
“Hey, sweetie.” Nona hugged her.
Allen tugged at Kelly’s ponytail. “How’re you doing, kid?” He stepped back and smiled. “You look sharp,” he said, admiring her studded Rocawear denim jacket. “You must have a hot date.”
“I do.” Kelly giggled. “With you. We’re still going to the movies?”
“You know it. I have some things I have to clear up in my office, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Are you sure, Allen?” Nona asked. “If you’re tired, Kelly won’t mind.”
“No way. My girl and I have a date, and I’m never too tired for that.”
Nona smiled. For years Allen had been filling in some of the missing pieces in Kelly’s life.
“I’ll be right back, kiddo.”
Kelly sat down with Nona as Allen dashed from the restaurant.
“This is perfect,” Nona said. “You’re just in time to have lunch with me.”
Kelly shook her head. “I ate already. I’ll just have something to drink.”
Nona motioned to Gail, who, next to Allen, had been with her the longest. From girl Friday, to administrative assistant, and now catering manager, Gail was invaluable. As she approached the table, Nona thought of how the rezoning would affect so many people. Gail was the single mother of three boys, one of whom was a freshman at Columbia University. Brickhouse had become a career for Gail. She had helped to develop Brickhouse’s catering program, and on Saturdays she filled in as a waitress to earn extra money. She was determined that it wouldn’t be for lack of funds that her children didn’t get a college education. What would Gail do if she lost the gym?
“Hey, Miss Thang,” Gail said, leaning over to kiss Kelly on the cheek.
Nona smiled. This was a family, and Brickhouse was their home. Kelly was part of this too. Everyone embraced her, as if she were a younger sibling. In a small way, it made up for some of what Nona believed Kelly missed at home. And then the thoughts that seemed to haunt Nona daily returned–about how she just didn’t have enough time. About how her focus on her career was robbing Kelly of a normal family life. About how her daughter had only one parent, who was hardly ever around. Sometimes Nona believed that she had dealt Kelly an unfair hand.
Yet in a small way, the “family” at Brickhouse made Nona feel a bit better. But now, Reverend Watkins threatened that. His plans would destroy this family. Without his even being aware of it, Reverend Watkins’s destructive tentacles reached far beyond this building, although Nona knew that the reverend and his cronies would never care even if they knew.
But he had never met anyone like her before. There was no way he was going to win.
“So, Nona, do you want to order anything?” Gail asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“The vegetable burrito. And Kelly will have a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream.”
Kelly said, “Could you please change that to a cup of green chai?”
“Sure,” Gail responded as Nona frowned.
Kelly waited until Gail moved away before she said, “Mom, you know I’m trying to cut out sweets,” she whined.
Nona cringed, knowing what her daughter was thinking. But before she could respond, Kelly said the dreaded words, “How else am I going to look like you?”
“Honey, I love the way you look. That’s all you need to do. Be the best that you can be.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Kelly stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back, Mom.”
As Nona watched Kelly work her way through the restaurant, she wanted to stand up and scream–to convince Kelly that she was fine the way she was. Yes, she was a bit overweight, but it was mostly baby fat. Nona had been the same way when she was Kelly’s age.
The challenge was, Kelly would never be a small girl–not with the genes she carried. Her father was six-three, and over 230 pounds. Nona herself worked hard to maintain her size six. Without a healthy diet and almost daily exercise, she would easily edge up to a size twelve or fourteen.
But Nona maintained her figure for a healthy lifestyle and a healthy business. She was her best advertisement, but that was the problem. Ever since Nona’s face and body became plastered on billboards and bus placards across the city, Kelly’s self-image had suffered. She’d never forget the first time Kelly had shocked her with her words.
“Mommy, can I go on a diet?”
Nona had stopped moving as she and Kelly were walking to kindergarten class at the day care center around the corner from their apartment.
“Kelly, do you know what a diet is?”
“Yes, Mommy. A diet is for fat people.”
That was the starting line. For years Kelly’s weight hadbeen the subject of an unending tug-of-war–Kelly insisting that she had to lose pounds and Nona, on the other end, assuring her daughter she was fine the way she was.
In the last months, the battle had escalated.
First, Odessa had found dozens of empty wrappers and boxes crammed in the back of Kelly’s closet.
“I don’t know, Ms. Nona.” Odessa’s French-Caribbean accent turned thicker with her concern. “I don’t know what this means.”
Nona had sorted through the shopping bag stuffed with loose cellophane. Marshmallow pies, coffee cakes, honey buns, potato chips … she couldn’t count the number of empty packages.
Odessa said, “Kelly always tells me that she doesn’t want any snacks and now I find all of this. I don’t know what this means,” she repeated.
Nona knew exactly what it meant. And what was worse, she feared that there might have been more than just the secret binging. What if her daughter was purging?
“Odessa, it’s normal for girls Kelly’s age to sneak a few snacks.” Nona tried to keep her tone casual, even though every organ inside her trembled. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll handle this.”
But Nona hadn’t known what to do. She considered confronting her daughter, even bringing Ronald, Kelly’s father, into this matter. But in the end, she decided to wait and watch, praying that Kelly had gone through a fleeting phase that had already passed.
Two weeks later, Nona discovered her strategy was not going to work when the headmaster at South Chester Prep called her into the school.
“Ms. Simms, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Kelly has had a bit of trouble.” Mr. Howell, the headmaster, satsternly straight, with his gold-framed bifocals lowered to the tip of his nose.
Nona had frowned. “Trouble? I don’t understand. I go over her homework every night, and her last progress report said she was doing well. I’m surprised–”
Mr. Howell stopped Nona. “Obviously, your daughter hasn’t talked to you,” he said in his English accent, sounding as if he was chastising her.
Nona wanted to stand, walk behind Mr. Howell’s desk, and tip over one of the heavy mahogany bookcases that lined the wall behind him. Instead she slumped a bit in her chair. “Kelly and I talk every day.”
“Has she told you about this?” Mr. Howell slid the single page from the New York Post across the desk. It took less than a second for Nona’s blood to freeze.
Two weeks before, this front-page Sunday edition story had thrilled her. When the calendar section editor of the New York Post called and asked about Kelly appearing with her, Nona had agreed. This was the solution she’d been searching for. She would bring Kelly into the business. Then she and Kelly would be closer. Kelly would feel loved and necessary … and would be less likely to sneak food in the middle of the night.
The picture had been taken at Nona’s book signing at the Fifth Avenue Barnes & Noble. Nona was dressed in a black and white midriff top with black leggings that hugged like skin. Kelly, holding her mother’s hand, was dressed in a top that matched Nona’s, but with black shorts. The two-inch headline read, “Body Beautiful.”
But right underneath, the words “And Fatty Daughter” had been scrawled in red marker.
/>
“One of the teachers found it on the mirror in the girls’ locker room,” Mr. Howell said.
“This is horrible.”
Mr. Howell nodded. “The student responsible has been reprimanded. But I called you because I had a feeling that Kelly had not shared this with you.”
Nona tried to swallow the lump that clogged her throat. “No, she hadn’t.”
“Ms. Simms, I also called because Kelly has endured relentless teasing. I know this is part of growing up, but frankly, the situation with Kelly concerns me. The girls in her grade taunt her in class. And during recess and in the cafeteria, she’s often alone. When she’s teased about her weight, she doesn’t even fight back. When her teachers or the guidance counselor try to talk to her, she says she’s fine. And now that I know that she doesn’t even talk about it to you …” He shook his head.
“I think she will now.”
Mr. Howell shrugged. “That’s possible, but I’d like to make a suggestion. Kelly is holding so much inside, and that worries me. I believe she should see a therapist.” It was the dismay in Nona’s eyes that made Mr. Howell add, “Kelly needs to talk to someone. I believe there is a lot festering under the surface. And with all that is going on in schools these days …”
His unfinished sentence daunted her. It was a subtle warning.
“You don’t think it’s enough for her to talk to me?”
Mr. Howell had looked down his nose as he said, “Ms. Simms, has she talked to you yet?”
Nona had left that meeting with a miscellany of emotions. She was horrified at what Kelly had endured. And she was overflowing with sadness because her daughter had not felt secure enough to bring her despair home.
That night after she checked Kelly’s homework, Nona had approached her.
“Hey, Kelly, why don’t you sit in here with me for a little while.” Nona patted a spot next to her on her king-sized bed.
Kelly had shaken her head. “No, I wanna watch TV in my room.”
