Forgive Me

by Stacy Campbell

  Lance greeted his sisters one by one and offered them drinks.

  “Give me my usual, scotch on the rocks,” said Kinsey.

  “I’ll have apple juice,” said Mayella.

  “You already know,” said Darshelle. She took a beer from the refrigerator before heading to the backyard to smoke a cigarette, her boots echoing on the hardwood floors. “Call me when it’s time to eat.”

  Mayella and Kinsey joined Darnella in the kitchen.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” said Darnella.

  “Same to you,” said Kinsey.

  “Do you need help with anything?” asked Mayella. “I can get everything together while you all have a seat.”

  “This isn’t home-ec, May,” said Darnella. “Go on and have a seat in the living room. We fixed the den area up for the children, so no HGTV for you today.”

  “I brought some reading materials with me, so I’ll be fine,” said Mayella.

  Kinsey waited for her sister to leave, then sidled next to Darnella. “After all these years, we can’t break her from shyness. She’s going to die like that, a pathetic bore.”

  “She likes reading and keeping to herself,” said Darnella. She arranged the HoneyBaked ham and deep-fried turkey on separate platters.

  “So, I guess I’m the only one who sees a problem with Mayella being by herself. My greatest fear is she’ll go to her mailbox, go back inside, and we won’t know something happened to her until days later. That’s unnatural for a person to keep to herself. Especially with other siblings,” said Kinsey. She removed a dessert plate from the cabinet and began slicing her cake.

  “What’s unnatural,” said Darnella, “is out back.” She directed Kinsey’s attention to Darshelle, now dragging a cigarette and holding court with the neighborhood men. She patted Joe Harris so hard on his back he lost his footing and stumbled forward a few steps. He inched away from Darshelle and rubbed his sore back.

  “Between you, me, and the gatepost, Lance always said all Darshelle needed was a penis and a wallet to be complete.”

  “Stop it,” said Darnella. “She is what she is. She doesn’t have a lot of trust for people.”

  “If that’s what you call it.”

  “Help me get this food in the dining room so we can eat.” Darnella chided her. “Let’s maintain a positivity pact today. No negative talk, okay.” She swiped a small piece of ham from the tray.

  During a dream two nights ago, Darnella awoke speechless. She struggled catching her breath, and her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. It wasn’t a cat, but something had her tongue. The first word she uttered after the experience was James. A sign had been sent to keep his name out of her mouth. Or at least be cordial to him. She shuddered at how nasty she’d been to him. She didn’t want to see her precious daughter as anything other than innocent; however, neither wore the blameless crown. She also remembered Lance calling her a hypocrite. As usual, he made sense.

  With dinner splayed on the table and the grace said by Lance, everyone enjoyed their food. Lance sat at the head of the table with other relatives seated on either side. Lance relented and allowed the children to listen to a portable radio as they ate in their designated area. Kinsey dominated the conversation as usual, not one to be drowned out by clanking silverware—or the huge elephant in the room.

  “Lance, what did you do to the turkey this year?” asked Kinsey.

  “My brine and peanut oil,” he answered.

  “Now, I’m all for peanut oil, but might I suggest you use a Cajun injector next year? It gives the meat a robust flavor, and it leaves a wonderful aftertaste to the palate,” said Mayella, her Home-Ec mode kicking in.

  “I’ll let you do the turkey next year. I bet it will be delicious,” said Lance.

  James and Aruba sat next to each other and held hands in between feeding each other. Darshelle gave them an evil eye, but said nothing.

  “Have we decided where we’re taking the family trip next year?” asked Kinsey. “I’m cruised out, and Lord knows I don’t want to be stranded in the middle of the ocean. I can’t drink up all that water if something happens at sea.”

  “I know that’s right,” chimed in Maxine. “Every other news story is about cruise ships stranded at sea. What sense does it make to pay all that money and be unsafe?” Maxine turned to James. “Will your family be joining us for the trip next year? I miss having your parents, brother, and sister travel with us. We all got along well.”

  James downed his sweet tea and answered, “If you let me know where you’re going, I’ll be sure to tell my parents so everyone can coordinate the meet-up location.” He squeezed Aruba’s hand.

  “Thanks, James. I’d love to see them again.”

  Darshelle belched and refused to excuse herself. Everyone looked in her direction and waited for her to say something. No luck. She finally answered, “What?”

  “Now, Darshelle, you know it’s rude to belch at the dinner table,” said Mayella.

  “What’s rude is—never mind. Y’all not getting my blood pressure up today,” said Darshelle, her voice deeper than usual. She chomped a turkey leg and focused on her dinner plate.

  “Lance, tell everyone about possible sites for next year,” said Darnella. She hoped her attempt to slice through the tension would be successful.

  “I thought of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, upstate New York, or California. No foreign soil, just somewhere we could get a cabin and enjoy fresh air.”

  “I get plenty fresh air on my farm and in my house—thank you very much,” said Darshelle.

  Lance smelled the moonshine on her breath now. During her trip to the backyard, someone had slipped her the ultimate no-no. Darshelle could hold beer, but she transformed into a ruder person when she drank moonshine. The family called it “diarrhea of the mouth” when she drank moonshine because whatever came up, came out. Everyone at the table felt eggshells cracking underneath their feet.

  “The meal is delicious,” said Kinsey. To Aruba she said, “You outdid yourself with the dressing, Hon. It’s absolutely splendid.”

  “I have Aunt Mayella to thank. It’s her recipe,” said Aruba. James placed his arm around her and ignored Darshelle, whose arms were folded. She rolled her eyes at them and took a few bites of her greens.

  “Dressing is incomplete without cream of soup,” said Mayella. She radiated with pride at the mention of her recipe.

  Jeremiah entered the adult area and approached Aruba and James.

  “Mom and Dad, we’re done eating. I made everyone put their plates in the trash. May we go outside and play?”

  “You may. Keep an eye on everyone and stay in the backyard,” said Aruba.

  The children ran outside.

  “They’ll run that food off in no time playing,” said Kinsey. “Remember when we all played together as children? Even Darshelle joined in the fun when we were small.”

  “She did,” said Lance. “She outran us all and beat everyone in kickball.” He appreciated Kinsey’s segue into their other dinner table tradition. “Let’s do Tell Me Something Good,” he said.

  “I’ll go first!” said Mayella.

  “Tell me something good, Mayella,” said Lance.

  “I’m thankful to have my family here, and I’m thankful the school system called me to work part-time on a permanent basis. They’re putting me on the payroll again! I’d gotten bored sitting at home. That’s my something good.”

  “Congratulations, Mayella. I knew they couldn’t get along without you at the school,” said Darnella.

  “Tell me something good, Darnella,” said Mayella.

  “Aruba is here, and James is helping her get back on her feet every step of the way.”

  James eyed Darnella with suspicion. He waited for the bomb to drop.

  “I’ve been rude to James, and I wanted to apologize in front of everyone and him.” She looked James in his eyes. “I’ve seen a side of you I didn’t know existed. You’ve matured into a fine young man, and I’m glad you
love my child. That’s my something good.” Darnella turned to Kinsey. “Tell me something good, Kinsey.”

  “I’m moving to Atlanta in April. I want to be closer to my grandchildren, and the best way to do that is go to them. I love my country living, but I want to try the city a while. Everyone is welcome to come visit me. That’s my something good,” said Kinsey. “Tell me something good, Lance.”

  Lance stood, cleared his throat, and faced Aruba. “I’m thankful my daughter is here with us. As our only child, we’ve tried to nurse every cut, bruise, fall, and heartache she’s experienced over the years. Sometimes you take a person’s presence for granted and think they’ll always be around. Thinking of being without her right now pains me,” he said. “I’m glad the Lord saw fit to spare her life so she could be with us. That’s my something good. I love you, baby girl.”

  Aruba’s tears mixed with her food. She made her way to her father and hugged him tight. He wiped her tears away, blinking back his own.

  Darshelle applauded loudly, her thunderous claps disrupting the moment. “And the Oscar goes to, my family! A bunch of people who gonna sit here and pretend it’s okay for my dear niece to attempt to take a life she didn’t give herself.” She got in Lance’s face.

  “This isn’t the time or place, Darshelle!” said Lance.

  “When will it be Lance? Huh? We’re sitting here celebrating like two months ago she wasn’t in a seventy-two-hour hold, barely clinging to life. Suicide is selfish! What if she had succeeded? You know what we’d be doing right now? Sitting here blaming ourselves for not loving her enough. For missing key signs, and clues. For not doing enough to help her. Or wait, there would be no dinner. Just a graveside visit where we’d all put flowers on a concrete slab and talk to her corpse. That’s torture! How can you celebrate her?”

  Darshelle turned her anger on Aruba who stood next to her father. “What were we supposed to tell your son if you died? That his mother got tired of living? She couldn’t cope with the ins and outs of life like the rest of us? I guess he was supposed to remember you through pictures, his memories, and ours, right?”

  James neared Darshelle with clenched fists. He didn’t want to make a scene, and knew he wasn’t on his own turf, but he had to defend his woman.

  “One more word, Darshelle. One more,” said James.

  “And what? I’m not afraid of you,” said Darshelle.

  A flash of rage sparked in James’s eyes that made Darshelle back down. Everyone’s contemptuous eyes bore into her; she knew she’d crossed the line this time. She headed to the closet for her coat without saying anything else. No one cared about her departure. Everyone’s attention was on Aruba, who sat in an empty chair and wept silently. Her family enveloped her.

  “She’s right. It was selfish, and I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “What matters is you’re here. We can take the rest of the journey day by day,” said Mayella, rubbing Aruba’s back.

  “No one can say they haven’t been down in the dumps,” said Kinsey.

  Aruba’s family surrounded her, each touching some part of her body, and all saddened by the sight of her tears. They maintained their unbroken circle as the sound of Darshelle’s loud pickup truck barreled down the road and out of the neighborhood.

  Chapter 30

  “Trick Don’t Kill My Vibe” by Kendrick Lamar wafted from Victoria’s basement. The dinner dishes were put away. Tupperware bowls of leftovers filled the refrigerator, and Bobby was making good on his promise to teach Lillith how to do the Dougie. Ever since she saw Michelle Obama doing the Dougie with youth, Lillith wanted to learn to do the dance. Victoria’s remaining dinner guests retreated to the basement for a Thanksgiving Blue Lights in the Basement party. She was proud of the dinner she prepared by herself. Victoria handled a majority of the food alone and had help from an unlikely source: Aruba Dixon. During their friendship, Aruba shared family recipes with Victoria. Victoria bought a recipe box and filed the index cards away, never planning to use them. Relocating to the South, as well as being a single mother, brought out the domestic goddess inside her. Although they ended on bad terms, Victoria always loved Aruba’s cooking. Her family members and friends oohed and aahed over the dressing, ham, potato salad, red velvet cake, and other treats. A twinge of loneliness rose when she thought of Emory. He would have been proud of her meal and her continuing effort to lose weight. She was down fifteen additional pounds, had more energy, and was enjoying life as best she could.

  “Put your arms out front more, Lillith,” said Bobby.

  Lillith leaned side to side as she followed Bobby’s lead. Yvette, Carl, Foster, and Marguerite grooved to their own rhythms. Bobby gyrated behind Lillith before remembering his audience. He gave Foster a sheepish grin and stopped his raunchy movements.

  “Sorry, Pastor,” said Bobby.

  “Be yourself, young man,” said Foster.

  Foster cued the music for old- and new-school pleasure. Before he found Christ and became a megachurch pastor, he was a deejay for parties throughout Atlanta and North Georgia. When Victoria asked him to spin records for the night, he gladly accepted.

  “How am I doing, Bobby?” Lillith asked. She leaned harder this time, singing along with Kendrick.

  “You got it now, Lill,” said Bobby. He pumped his fists in the air and feigned a heart attack like his father did at their basement parties.

  “Not Elizabeth!” said Lillith. Every blue moon, she and Bobby made a familiar connection, closing the generational gap they shared.

  Victoria poured nonalcoholic beverages for the giddy couples. It had been a long time since she felt this happy. Things weren’t perfect, but they were stable. Nicolette dined with the neighbor’s children today, giving the adults time to unwind. When the doorbell rang, everyone looked at Victoria. Foster turned the music down.

  “I told Nicolette to stay next door until six o’clock. She’s forever leaving her key, and she never remembers the garage passcode. I’ll be right back.”

  Yvette, Marguerite, and Lillith giggled while Foster, Carl, and Bobby shook their heads. Victoria ran up the stairs, something impossible just three months ago. She flung open the door, ready to give Nicolette a lesson on responsibility.

  “Young lady—”

  “Nothing feminine about me at all,” said Emory. He held a beautiful bouquet of pink, white, and purple roses.

  “Emory, what are you doing here?”

  “You invited me. I told you I wouldn’t be able to make it until after my flight arrived,” said Emory.

  “I didn’t invite—” She directed her gaze toward the basement, shaking her head. There was too much giggling before she came upstairs. “I think we’re victims of overzealous matchmakers. Come inside.”

  Emory handed her the bouquet. “Before I enter, may I kiss you?”

  “Are you sure you want to kiss me?”

  “Positive.”

  They fell into their old rhythm, swept up in familiar tongue-locking like old times. He stepped inside the foyer and gave her his coat. She wasn’t the only one who’d been working out. He’d slimmed down significantly and looked as handsome as ever. He still had a linebacker physique, and his undeniable swagger remained intact. She took in his tailored, pinstripe suit, decorative tie, and wingtip shoes. This man can hang a suit.

  Emory and Victoria went to the kitchen. She found a vase from the cabinet and filled it with water for her bouquet. She was beyond playing games and waited for the day they could have a heart-to-heart talk about their relationship. He took a seat at the island.

  “Is Nicolette here?” he asked.

  “She’s across the street. All the neighborhood children were invited over for a big feast. I can’t imagine hosting fifty children, but I learned the Danbys have the children over every year. It’s their give-back move since they’re childless.”

  “I see.” He removed a small box from his jacket. “I brought her a Thanksgiving present. It’s nothing fancy. Just something to get her star
ted.”

  Victoria eyed the blue box. “May I?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Victoria removed the beautiful charm bracelet from the box. Emory blew her away with his memory. During the summer, they vacationed in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Nicolette made fast friends with the girls in the adjacent timeshare. One of the girls flashed her Elsa Peretti charm bracelet. She pointed out the heart, Red Jasper Bean, lapis Starfish, rock crystal Tear Drop, and jade Eternal Circle. It was the must-have item amongst the girls during summer. She asked her Uncle Em if he’d buy it for her. He assured her he’d see what he could do.

  “When did you get this?”

  “A week after our vacation. I planned to give it to her for her birthday, but I didn’t get a chance after our breakup.”

  Victoria didn’t know what to say. Emory always included her daughter in their outings and activities.

  “Thanks, Emory. She’s missed you a lot.”

  “Have you?”

  She hesitated a moment, then responded. “Yes. More than I ever thought I would.” She joined him at the island. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “Stuffed. We had a big spread at the studio, so I can’t eat another morsel.”

  “I cooked dinner all by myself this year.”

  “Without my prompting?”

  “Yes,” she said. They laughed, knowing he ruled the kitchen in his home and hers. “So tell me when I invited you over.”

  Emory whipped out his cell phone. He opened his text messages and scrolled up to the first message he received from her and read it aloud. “Emory, I’d like to clear the air. Are you available to come by for Thanksgiving?”

  Victoria noted the date: November 8, 2013. It was the same date her phone went missing while lunching with Yvette. She searched everywhere for her phone. Due to her newfound thriftiness, she chose not to buy a new phone. She’d just wait until she found the old one. She wasn’t attached to her phone and often lost it. She knew it would reappear. So, Yvette is the culprit.