A Sister's Secret

by Cydney Rax

  Ever since Alita had informed Burgundy about Elyse’s medical analysis and the fact that she’d been diagnosed with agoraphobia and was suicidal, Alita’s frustration had swelled. She felt that if Burgundy was too busy to notice that the girl was in deep trouble and needed immediate help, then she shouldn’t be so insistent on being her caregiver.

  “A lot of shit is on my mind,” Alita replied. “But I don’t want to overwhelm you since you’re so busy and all. Let’s start with this one: I want to know who the hell put you in charge of Sister Day. Last time I checked, I am the oldest—”

  “Here we go,” Coco groaned.

  “Like I said, I’ve been in this world longer than you, Burgundy. Yet you the one who always barking orders, taking over everything, and acting all perfect like your shit don’t stink.”

  “Alita,” Burgundy said, ignoring her rant. “You gotta be joking. Stop playing.”

  “I ain’t playing. This is a question that I want you to answer and not dodge.”

  “I won’t be spoken to in a disrespectful manner.”

  “Fine. It didn’t come out so nice and pretty. I’m sorry. But tell me this: Who put you in charge?”

  “Wow, Alita,” Dru interrupted. “I can’t believe you’d go off on B like this just because she has a lot of initiative. Don’t forget she hooked you up with Shade.”

  “Shade has nothing to do with this. This is all about Burgundy’s annoying ass and how she acts so high and mighty coming up in here with her red-bottom shoes like she’s going to a Broadway play or something. You don’t have to show off your designer gear and thousand-dollar purses to us. Hell, since you got so much cheddar, give me some of it. My rent is due, and the late fees are steadily piling up. What? Oh, okay, I thought so. You don’t have money to truly help out your sisters, but you can fork over three hundred seventy-five dollars so we can get these mani-pedis every other month. I’d rather have the cash. My nails can stay jacked up for all I care.”

  “Alita,” Dru said, exasperated. “Don’t you have any shame? I don’t understand you. Why can’t you ever be grateful or happy about anything?”

  “Because I can’t. Not when it comes to certain things.” She thought about how much Elyse had been suffering for God knows how long. And she recalled how the doctor had contacted Alita and recommended that Elyse begin seeing a psychotherapist; he told Alita that the girl should practice relaxation methods to help her with her anxiety. She might even have to start taking medication, and Alita thought the girl was way too young to grow dependent on pills, even if they did straighten her out.

  Alita stood up and grabbed her Walmart purse, whose threads had come loose and needed to be snipped off. The bottom stitching bore several obvious holes. Just one more thing that increased her anger and made her want to disappear.

  She glanced around the salon, noting the fancy chairs, the glasses filled with complimentary wine, and the high, decorative ceilings. She felt like she was in Dubai.

  “I hate all this fake-ass shit. What are we trying to prove, huh? When mama was alive we didn’t hang out like this. It feels so forced. It ain’t from the heart. Burgundy got something up her sleeve, I can feel it.”

  “What?” Burgundy said incredulously.

  “Yeah, I said it. You about as fake as these acrylic nails.”

  “Well, Alita. You can get solar if you want, I don’t care.”

  “I know you don’t care. As long as you showing us that you the house Negro and we the field slaves, that is all your bougie ass cares about.” She wanted to tell everyone that their sister had almost killed herself, but instead she found herself spewing insults.

  “I-I mean, hell, we never see our nieces looking dirty or with their shoes off. They’re kids, for God’s sake. Let ’em get dirty every once in a while, and stop treating them like they made of glass.”

  “Is that what you’re upset about? The fact that my girls wear shoes when they’re playing?”

  “Yeah!”

  “You sound like a fool, Alita.” Burgundy’s eyes flashed with anger. “Keep Natalia and Sid out of this. My kids are not your issue.”

  “I agree,” Dru said. “Throwing the kids under the bus was a low blow. And it’s obvious, Alita, that you’re insecure and jealous of your own sister. You ought to be happy for her. She can’t help it if she and Nate have successful businesses that the community supports. They work very hard at what they do, and because of that they can buy nice things for the kids. Be glad for them. What? You want them to be poor and struggling?”

  “Tell her, Dru,” Coco butted in, feeling satisfied that she wasn’t in the hot seat. “Leave B alone. Everybody can’t be as poor as you . . . and me.” She cackled, then quieted down.

  Alita’s voice trembled. “I ain’t say all that. I don’t care what the woman has. My main question is why she thinks she has to run everything just because she has money. Money equals power, right? Money means status. Well, school me on how to get some of that. Maybe then I can have some fucking power.”

  Alita had said some of how she felt. But her real feelings were buried deep inside of her. For a rare moment, she lacked the courage to speak her mind when it came to how she truly felt about Burgundy. And if the sisters knew how negligent Burgundy acted toward Elyse, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to defend her.

  “Alita.” Burgundy sounded distressed and appeared embarrassed as the nail technicians kept rapidly talking in Vietnamese and eyeballing the sisters. “I don’t feel like you should be attacking me, especially in this place of business.”

  “But see, have you forgotten you’re the one that decided where we meet for Sister Day. You, Queen B, made up the rule that we must be honest. And if you don’t want us to tell the truth, then stop pressuring us to tell it. Because, I swear to God, some of us couldn’t take the real truth about what’s really going on in this family.”

  “What she say? Oh, my God, this is so damn juicy all I need is some cheese popcorn and a Dr. Pepper,” Coco hollered.

  “Coco, this isn’t funny; it’s not entertaining,” Burgundy said. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “B, please. It’s funny as hell and very entertaining.” Coco was more cheerful than usual. “Y’all go on. Pretend like I’m not even here.”

  “This is unbelievable,” Burgundy continued, looking sad and anguished. “Alita, sweetie. I’m not trying to be in charge. I just want to help keep us together as a family. If I hadn’t stepped up and coordinated Sister Day, we might have gotten out of touch. And it would have been like pulling teeth to get us to come together. Then where would we be?”

  “No one will ever know, because you didn’t give any of us a chance to show what we could do,” Alita argued. “For all you know I could have come up with Sister Day.”

  “But you didn’t!”

  “Say what? Why would you even go there?”

  “What do you suggest then, Alita?” Burgundy spoke up. “You think you can do better? Do you want to be in charge?”

  “Nope, not saying all that. What I’m asking is who the hell put you in charge.”

  “Mama,” Burgundy whispered.

  “Speak up, I can’t hear you,” Alita practically shouted.

  “Our mama made me promise to keep us all together. She’s the one that came up with this whole idea. And she asked me to run it.”

  “Whoa, uh oh, it’s on now,” Elyse said. It sounded so funny coming from Elyse that Coco laughed. Her sister reminded her of a three-year-old child who had just learned a new word.

  “Whoa is right,” Coco said. “When did all this happen, B?”

  “A few weeks before she passed,” Burgundy replied.

  “How we know she ain’t lying?” Alita said.

  “Why would I lie about something like that?” Burgundy shot back. “I was never going to tell you all this. Or I would have waited years from now. But like it or not, it’s the honest-to-God truth.”

  “I believe her,” Dru spoke up. “Mama always said Burgundy was a
planner and an organizer from the time she was little. Remember how she used to line up our shoes so that they were neatly set against the wall?”

  “I don’t remember that,” Coco claimed with a frown.

  “And she’d make us straighten up our closet and dresser drawers so that panties were in one drawer, socks in another.” Dru looked at Burgundy in admiration. “While Alita would be knocked out asleep from staying up too late, Burgundy was the one who would wake us up in the morning so we’d eat breakfast and not be late for school. Mama probably thought B could start Sister Day and help us keep focused.”

  “Lord knows I couldn’t have run it,” Coco cackled. “And back before Mama passed, Ms. Thang here was fussing and fighting with Leonard Washington so much, Mama knew Lita wasn’t ready to guide the rest of us.”

  “Shut up, Coco.” Alita slumped, and she slid back in her seat, looking as if she couldn’t leave the salon if she wanted to. All her energy shifted. She put her purse back down, then grew quiet and pensive.

  When one of the salon artists walked over to Alita, she allowed the young woman to work on her feet and prepared the hot wax for the bucket. Alita’s facial expression made it seem like her body was there but her mind was long gone.

  “Some people can’t handle the truth,” Coco sang, pronouncing the words as if she were at church belting out a gospel song.

  “Stop it. Be nice,” Burgundy said. She cleared her throat. “If I have adequately answered Lita’s question, I’d like to move on. We’ve lost a lot of time already, but it’s cool. I was glad to finally get that off my chest. I didn’t feel comfortable taking credit for Mama’s idea. And she came up with the name Sister Day. So here we are. Let’s give a round of applause to Mrs. Greta Reeves, may she rest in peace.”

  Even Alita shouted, “Clap clap, boom. Clap clap, boom.”

  “You’re too much, Alita.” Burgundy smiled. “Now, moving on. This month’s assignment is: Call, text, or email someone from your past to show it’s not all about you. That sounds kind of nostalgic, doesn’t it, considering Thanksgiving is right around the corner?”

  “I, for one, have nobody I want to get in touch with,” Coco announced. “Let sleeping dogs lie and let ’em stay dead. I’m trying to keep my current situation straight, let alone trying to dip with somebody from my past.”

  “Coco, sweetie. I didn’t say it had to be a man. It can be a woman, a relative, a former neighbor. It’s just a suggestion.”

  “Oh, you saying that now, but if I don’t try to do it, you’ll have a fit. All I’m saying is I will have to think about this one, okay, Burgundy?”

  “That’s fine. Just give it some thought, all right, sweetie?”

  “All right,” Coco told her. “I will.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Coco to figure out who she’d be calling from her past.

  As a matter of fact, a few days before Thanksgiving, she had some free time on her hands. Her daughters Cadee and Chloe were hanging out at Burgundy’s and having fun playing with their cousins. Coco was itching to get out of the big house. She buckled Chance in his car seat and gave him a loving kiss on his forehead.

  “You rolling with Mommy today, little man.” Coco felt nervous. She called Calhoun, even though she knew he was at work. When he answered his phone, she was surprised, but she quickly asked him which part of town he was working that day.

  “I’m way out in Katy, almost near the Mills.”

  “I thought we might meet up for lunch, but I’m not going to be in that area.”

  “You too much, Ma.”

  Coco hurried and ended the call. She needed to be quick and careful.

  She kept driving along, her mind deep in thought. Finally when she pulled her vehicle in front of Q’s apartment, she felt as if the eyes of the world could see her. She had called his number from a pay phone a half hour ago. He was home alone.

  It was like he was waiting on her, because Q opened his door before she could ring the bell.

  Quantavius was tall and stocky like a running back. His arms were thick. They were easily the biggest arms Coco had seen in her life.

  “What’s good with it?” he greeted her. “I can’t believe you brought your fine ass over here.”

  “Been a minute, huh?”

  “More like a few years.”

  “Oh, please, it hasn’t been that damn long. Anyway, I won’t hold you. It already feels weird being here. But I thought you’d want to see him.”

  Coco nervously looked behind her before she stepped inside of Q’s place. Before she could even speak another word, Q gave Coco a strong hug, then released her. She sat down to rest her weary feet.

  Q examined Chance from head to toe. The last time he had seen Chance was four months ago; Coco convinced him to meet her out in public but way on the other side of town. Back then Q had sat the one-and-a-half-year-old on his lap, talked to him, played games with him, and enjoyed spending time with Chance.

  And now, the more Q looked at the boy’s handsome features, the more his chest began to swell. Chance had a similar bone structure, a pointy mouth, and pudgy hands. And his complexion was golden brown like Omari Hardwick’s.

  “What you thinking?” Coco asked when she saw him staring at Chance.

  “I’m thinking it’s a damn shame I can’t claim him.”

  “Right, you can’t. That ain’t happening.”

  Q looked wistful. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be cool. My boy and I are tight. We go way back. I ain’t trying to fuck that up.”

  “Trust me, I ain’t either.”

  “But at the same time, this my seed.” His eyes misted, a rarity. He quickly recovered. “And that makes me not give a fuck about Calhoun.”

  “Oh, God, noooo, Q. Please don’t say nothing. It would mean instant death for me, you, and definitely for the baby. Think about the baby.”

  Q relented, eager to stay clear-headed. “You right. I won’t say a word for now. ’Cause this needs to stay on the low, low, low, low.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” It felt agonizing for Coco to harbor such a secret. Would Calhoun ever figure out what had happened? The fact that he suspected nothing so far made Coco feel somewhat relieved. Yet the very thought of Calhoun knowing the truth severely depressed her. She couldn’t allow anything to come between her and the love she had for her man.

  “But damn,” Q said. “Why you gotta go get knocked up again? You fine as hell, but loading up all that damn weight make you big as a pig. You thicker than a Snicker.”

  “Q, don’t talk to me like that. I don’t wanna hear that.”

  “I’m just saying. You already a slice and a half. Now you eating for two. You gon’ be big as a mafuck by the time this new one pops out.”

  “That ain’t for you to worry about.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Well, I just wanted you to see little man. I didn’t come over here for you to talk shit about my weight.” Chance kept his arm tightly clutched around his mother’s leg as she sat on Q’s couch. He shyly stared at Q and refused to go to him when he gestured.

  “Man,” Q said in disbelief. “He have no idea that Calhoun ain’t—”

  “Right, and he never will. That’s what you told me, anyway. I hope you can keep your promise.”

  “Can’t be no other way.”

  “Good. It’s settled.” Feeling exhausted, Coco sighed. “I best be going. Calhoun knows my scent, and I don’t want him to even think I’ve been within a mile of this spot.”

  “I heard that.”

  “And if he wanna come hang out over here after work, you need to make up a lie. Don’t let him come over here for a couple of days.”

  “How am I gon’ manage that?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She stuck out her hand. He opened his wallet and placed a few bills in her hand.

  “Thanks,” she said and stuffed the cash inside her bra. She leaned over and gave Q a kiss.

  Surprised, he
grabbed her around the butt and squeezed. She pushed him off of her.

  “Don’t get any ideas about that,” she warned him. “You my boy, and I’m glad you staying loyal.”

  Coco rose to her feet and tried to suck in her stomach.

  She strutted toward the door and turned around to gaze at Q. “By the way. Do Calhoun be having bitches up here when y’all hanging out?”

  “What? Get the fuck out here, Coco. You ain’t shit. I knew you were up to no good. You don’t give a shit about me. All you care about is that bonehead.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “Fuck off.” He practically pushed Coco through the door.

  “What a waste of time,” she muttered and drove home feeling more frustrated than ever. “But at least I did my Sister Assignment like I promised Burgundy and got in touch with someone from my past. Yay for me!”

  Coco could only deal with one issue at a time. And she promptly pushed the issue of Chance, Calhoun, and Q to the back of her head.

  CHAPTER 15

  Sometimes We Ate Bologna for Dinner

  On Thanksgiving, a mild breeze combined with pleasant temperatures made the day perfect for family gatherings and socializing. The Reeves sisters were scheduled to assemble for an afternoon supper at Nate and Burgundy’s.

  Burgundy was in her first-level master bedroom suite perched in front of the vanity mirror. She opened her eyes real wide and stroked her long lashes with dark brown mascara.

  “This is not cutting it,” she said, finally giving up. “I need to break out my fake lashes today. I sure hope Alita doesn’t notice.”

  She opened a drawer and searched for her cosmetic kit.

  “Nate,” she yelled from the cushioned chair. “Can you please go make sure Elyse and the girls are getting ready? My sisters will be here any minute. Except Coco,” she said with a laugh.

  Nathaniel popped his head inside the doorway. His long legs, thick thighs, and broad shoulders made him a towering presence. “Anything for you, my love.”

  Burgundy only wore a bra and a thong; she smelled like fresh bathwater and scented lotion.

  “You’re looking beautiful as always,” he told her.