Penny felt the weight of the guilt she’d been feeling since finding out Big Mama died grow and press her chest down. She had never wanted to lose contact with Mr. and Mrs. Hightower. She loved them. They were like the parents she’d never had, the parents she’d wished she had. Spending time in their home while growing up had made her feel normal and, most important, loved.
“She could come over for Sunday dinner,” James Hightower offered. He stood over six feet tall and shared the same deep mahogany complexion as his four sons. He seemed to be the aged but still handsome template for those classic Hightower looks.
Penny took a deep breath. She remembered Sunday dinner at the Hightowers’ after church. And she knew she couldn’t sit through one of those family gatherings, no matter how much she secretly yearned to do so. No way could she do it.
“I’ll try, Mrs. Hightower,” Penny offered, hoping that would be enough. “But I better move along and see some of the other guests now.”
“Go ahead, baby, and we’ll see you on Sunday.” Mrs. Hightower patted her back with a smile and pushed her on her way.
It occurred to Penny to say that she hadn’t said she’d definitely be there. But given the determination Mrs. Hightower always had, she knew better than to say never.
Carla slipped out the side door of the funeral parlor as soon as she saw him. He was probably the last person she wanted to see at her mother’s wake. But there he was. If she could give him the slip, the way she had been doing since he got out of jail, that would be a good thing. If she could keep giving him the slip until she managed to talk her daughter into taking her back to Los Angeles with her, that would be even better.
Who would have thought both of those men would be out of jail at the same time? When your past came back to shoot you in the behind, it sure as hell came back blasting. For sure, this was more stress than her hanging-on-to-recovery-by-the-skin-of-her-teeth behind could handle.
She wouldn’t have her mother to help her stay clean this time. It had been hard enough doing so with her mama alive and giving her positive encouragement.
How will I stay clean with Mama dead and those fools breathing down my neck?
There was no way. She would have to find a way to get Penny to let her move back to California with her.
Yeah. That would work.
She ducked into the corner store and realized she didn’t have a whole lot of cash on her. Okay, she didn’t have any cash on her. She’d run through the money Penny sent her every month a week ago. And with Mama’s death and all, Carla didn’t think it was a good time to beg Penny for some more ends. Plus, she had to save her favors for the big stuff, like getting the hell out of Dodge on a one-way ticket to Los Angeles.
Carla only had enough for a single cigarette. If the bodega followed the new laws, she wouldn’t be able to get one, unless they had those individually wrapped cigarettes. Not every store carried them. Since she was trying to quit smoking, too, and had been doing well, that might have been a good thing. But she needed something. For sure, cigarettes were the lesser evil.
“Y’all sell loosies?” Carla patted her hair down and took a glance out of the window. Her heart stalled, and she ducked. The jerk must have followed her.
She saw him walking in front of the store. He looked like a dang-gone wild beast on the prowl.
Oh, shoot!
“We not supposed to split up the pack, Mami. It’s against the law.” The smooth Puerto Rican brother leaned against the counter and looked at her cringing on the floor. “Who you hiding from? Your boyfriend?”
He was handsome, if you liked those gooey-sticky caramel latte brothers with the deep, dark bedroom eyes. She liked her men taller, darker and a little more dangerous. Well, those tastes hadn’t gotten her anywhere but crouched on the floor hiding. So maybe she should give Papi a try?
Carla didn’t get up from her crouching position. “Did he pass by?”
“Yeah, Mami, he passed. You scared? You look like you scared.” The store clerk had a humorous expression on his face, and his lips were tilted in a half smirk.
If she hadn’t wanted him to sell her a loose cigarette so bad, she might have cussed him out and asked him what the hell he found so dang funny about her situation. But years of hustling had taught her a little something about the value of a good game face. Plus, he was cute, if you liked that type.
Carla stood and sucked her teeth in what she hoped came off in a joking manner and not the pure disgust she felt.
“How the kids say it these days? I ain’t nevah scurred.” She batted her eyes and then winked at him. “So what’s up, Papi? You gonna sell me that loosy or what?”
“Well, normally, I wouldn’t be breaking the rules. But you seem like a nice lady. So I’m gonna do you a favor. What you smoking, Mami?”
“Newports.” She gave her lips a seductive lick for good measure. “Regular.” She smoothed her wavy hair back. The stuff never held on to any hairstyles like she wanted it to. But most men seemed to like the long hair.
“I’m gonna give you this pack of Newports, Mami. You gonna give me your phone number?” He took a pack of cigarettes down, slid them across the counter with a book of matches and winked at her.
Carla noticed the wedding ring on his finger as he made the slide.
Men ain’t worth a damn!
She smiled slyly as she grabbed the cigarettes and slipped them in her purse. “You think your wife would like it if I gave you my number, Papi?”
He shrugged. “What my wife don’t know won’t hurt her.”
Ain’t that a blip?
She started walking out of the store. “Well, in that case, it’s 777-9311.” She busted out laughing.
“That’s not your number, that’s a song. Oh, why you playing me, Mami?”
Carla let the door close, all the while chuckling to herself. Once outside, she tried to decide if she should go back to the wake and ride back to the house with her daughter in the family limousine provided by the funeral home, or head home on foot. If she didn’t ride back with Brat, then the girl would be in the limo all by herself.
Like it or not, they were the only family either of them had left. And without her own mother there as the go-between, it was going to be hard getting her daughter to see that.
Carla reasoned that if he was really gone, then it would be safe to go back. And she sure didn’t feel like walking home. She headed back to the funeral parlor, puffing on a cigarette and trying to think of a way around the latest crazy predicament in her life. But as she came up to the funeral home, a large hand snatched her into an alley.
Her pack of cigarettes fell into a puddle of water, and she reared up to curse whoever had grabbed her.
“What the hell!” She struggled and tried to pull away, only to get slammed against the brick building for her trouble. She looked up at the idiot who held her, intent on telling the fool she didn’t have any money or anything worth stealing, but then she saw it was him.
Dang!
“You think you slick or something? You know I been looking for you. I put the word out, and you act like you couldn’t even get at a brother. Since I had to hunt you down, I ought to bust you upside your damn head.” The same mean, angry face she still saw in her nightmares glared down at her.
She had to strain her neck to really get a good look at the man who towered above her in a threatening manner.
“I didn’t know you was looking for me. I hadn’t heard anything. Shoot, I didn’t even know you were out. How’d that happen?” She hoped her game face was still in place. Because dealing with this animal without one would be foolish, to say the least.
His lips curled into a sneer. “It happened. That’s all you need to know.”
“Well, that’s good.” She smiled and tried the old batting of the eyes, knowing it was probably useless with this one. “I’m glad. But since you out and all, then you probably know my mother passed away. We burying her and all, so—”
“Yeah, my condolence
s. I just saw yo’ mama the other day, when I stopped by there looking for you. I guess she ain’t tell you I stopped by, huh? Nah, I guess she wouldn’t have, since she seemed pretty heated that I even rang her doorbell. And I see yo’ little daughter is home and all grown up.” He licked his lips in a disgusting manner, and an evil leer crossed his face.
If he stopped by Mama’s house, that might have been enough to make her have a stroke and die. Shoot! I’m so sorry, Mama.
Carla mentally kicked herself. Once again, her mistakes had made her mother suffer. She made a silent promise to her mother and herself. She would try and get it right this time. She was going to get herself and her child out of Paterson, and she was finally going to be a good mother. She had to…
“No, my mother didn’t mention you had stopped by.” She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes, and she knew her voice had lost some of its fake pleasantness. She knew she needed to keep layering it on, if she wanted to escape the alley unscathed. But it was hard to do, when she thought about her mother lying in a casket inside.
“So, I see your boy beat that murder rap. You seen him yet?”
Answering his question would be too tricky. Even though they were no longer together, she knew this fool still had an irrational and psychotic jealous streak, especially when it came to her ex. She looked down at the pavement and thought for a minute.
“No.”
The flat of his hand moved as soon as she uttered the word and knocked her upside the head so hard her head bounced against the brick wall. “That’s for lying. I know you saw him.” He slapped her upside the head again. “And that’s a warning. Stay away from him. Your baby’s daddy is still off-limits to you. Just ’cause we ain’t together no more don’t mean any of that has changed.”
Carla tried her best to keep her eyes focused on the ground, because if she looked at him, she would probably lose it. She didn’t want to give him the benefit of her tears. And she wasn’t sure looking in his smug, arrogant face wouldn’t make her cuss him out.
Cussing him would no doubt have her explaining a bunch of bruises to Penny. And if she was going to get Penny to take her to Los Angeles, she needed to play it clean.
No stress. No drama. No idiots from her past set on ruining her, especially not this idiot.
He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face. Leaning in, he covered her mouth with his, and she let him kiss her.
“You still belong to me. And I’m only going to give you a little bit more time to come to that conclusion. So you go ahead and bury yo’ mama and send yo’ little daughter back wherever the hell she was, and be sure to stay away from that punk Gerald, and I’ll get at you soon.” He walked off down the alley and Carla shuddered.
She had to find a way to get Penny to take her to L.A.—as soon as possible.
Chapter 2
Food, food and more food. Smells of cinnamon and caramelized brown sugar wafted from the glazed ham and the candied yams. Another whiff of the air, and the homey aroma of melted cheese mixed with butter, milk and pasta baked to perfection assaulted the senses.
Too bad Penny hadn’t had a real appetite since she’d gotten the news.
From Tuesday evening, when she got the phone call from Carla telling her Big Mama had passed away, until the Saturday afternoon after the funeral, Penny had pretty much been running on fumes. Sometimes she remembered to eat a bite, but most times not.
Every member of Mount Zion must have brought a dish over to Big Mama’s house after the funeral and interment. And they were all there, milling around, making small talk and sharing memories.
Penny wanted them all to leave, so she could go out into the backyard, sit on the bench under the big oak tree and pretend none of it was happening. She forced smiles and made chitchat, because Big Mama had raised her to be polite. Because of Big Mama, she tried to hold it together.
She could be strong this time. She could prevail over loss this time, especially when she had nothing else to lose. Penny wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes for a moment in an effort to push her thoughts back. She couldn’t allow herself to dredge up past losses, not if she wanted to make it through the rest of the day.
She let good times fill her mind.
Being back in Big Mama’s little yellow and white house on Warren Street brought back all kinds of memories. Memories of roller-skating around the corner and having to come in before the streetlights came on. Memories of playing kickball and tag in the PS School #10 playground. Memories of buying a twenty-five-cent grape juice, a bag of barbecue potato chips, a fat pickle and a couple of packs of Now and Laters from the Puerto Rican–owned bodega on the corner and thinking she had the makings of a queen’s meal at her disposal.
Most of all, she had memories of feeling safe and secure.
Standing there in the house she had grown up in, knowing the woman who had loved her and raised her was dead, felt as if someone had pulled the floor out from under her and she was balanced on one beam with a huge black hole waiting to engulf her. It felt as if she stood on the perilous edge of a steep cliff in a pair of stilettos after having one too many mojitos. But at least she was still standing, still balancing. She hadn’t caved yet. Big Mama would have been proud of the way she was holding it together.
How did people make it after losing the person who had always been their rock, their advice giver, the person who helped them make a way to the light when darkness threatened? Big Mama had been all those things to Penny, and more. There had never been a time when Big Mama didn’t have advice for Penny’s life, wanted or not.
She remembered when she was twelve and Big Mama sat her under the tree to explain the changes happening to her preteen body and just a little bit about the birds and the bees. Big Mama had been somewhat vague when it came to some parts of the talk. But she had always been the voice of strength and reason, even when Penny messed up and got pregnant at seventeen.
Big Mama was really gone.
In a week or so, Penny would be gone, too. She hated the fact that she’d probably never again see the small three-bedroom, one-bathroom house her grandmother had worked so hard to keep after the grandfather Penny had never had the pleasure of knowing died.
As soon as she settled Big Mama’s affairs, she’d say goodbye to Paterson, New Jersey, for good.
But could she really say goodbye to North Jersey forever?
She couldn’t believe she’d been away for so long. She missed home more than she’d let herself believe. There was really nothing like North Jersey. From the tenements to the fact that you could literally go one block and be in another town—a town that often felt like a different world, North Jersey offered a packed and condensed mix of flavors and cultures different from the equally diverse but much more spread-out and free-flowing Los Angeles she now called home.
Penny was surprised by how she’d gotten back into the flow of Paterson in under a week. The brothers playing c-lo on the corner, the sisters on the stoops gossiping and people watching, the kids running their little behinds in the street, dangerously close to being run over by a car, the storefront churches on just about every block, right next to the liquor stores, the feeling, the flavor, all called out to a part of her she’d thought was gone.
You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can’t take Jersey out of the girl.
Penny shook her head.
“Brat, you gonna be leaving for California soon, huh?”
Penny jumped and her reverie ended at the sound of Carla’s voice. She made a mental note not to let her mother get to her. But some things were a whole lot easier in theory.
She didn’t need therapy to know that her unresolved issues and textbook abandonment fears all stemmed from the petite, honey-complexioned woman standing in front of her, drinking grape soda as if it were the finest wine.
Penny noted that Carla had taken to calling her by the childhood “endearment” she’d used whenever Big Mama wasn’t around. She couldn’t remember exactly when it went fro
m shut-up-brat, get-out-of-here-brat, you-make-me-sick-you-little-brat, to just Brat, said in a weird, almost loving way. She only knew it was the name her mother called her by.
Gritting her teeth and counting to ten, Penny responded, “Yes, Carla. I have to go back. I have a business to get back to. The most I can stay is a week or two.”
Penny ran an image-consulting firm with her friend Maritza Morales. They were both former video models/dancers, and they’d met on a rap video shoot about twelve years ago. They’d found they were both working their way through school and had developed a friendship. Since Penny had only ever had guy friends, developing a close friendship with a woman had been a challenge. Maritza had had a similar history, since she’d grown up as the only girl in a family of brothers. But they’d worked at their friendship, and it had grown.
Their business, New Images by Keys and Morales, was doing well. Maritza could more than pick up the slack for a little while, in order for Penny to handle her grandmother’s affairs. But it took the two of them and their six faithful employees to really make it a work. Even though Penny pretty much made her own hours, she still needed to do her part to make sure the business remained a success.
Panic crossed Carla’s face. “But I…Well, I…Well, what am I gonna do? I need somebody to…”
Even though years of hard living had taken a bit of a toll on Carla, she still had the good looks, fair skin, long, wavy black hair and petite but somewhat curvy body that most men found irresistible. She also had a vulnerable, childlike appeal that she seemed to be able to pull out when she needed it. If Penny hadn’t seen all the faces Carla worked like a pro—all her multiple personalities, as Penny liked to refer to them—she might have fallen victim to the sad, helpless puppy-dog expression Carla wore at the moment.
Penny knew better, however, and she refused to fall for it.
“Carla, you’re a grown woman. You’re going have to learn how to take care of yourself, eventually.” Penny started walking out of the food-filled dining room, thinking she’d miss Big Mama’s cherry stained furniture and her china cabinet full of knickknacks and family photos.
Protect and Serve Page 3
