by La Jill Hunt
“We’re working on it now. You remember the detective who is working on finding out who hurt Avery? He’s helping with this too,” she said.
“Yes.” Ashley nodded.
“Hello, Ashley, it’s nice to see you again. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, but we haven’t had the chance. I have some pictures I need you to look at if that’s okay?” He turned and asked Celia.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Celia told him.
He opened the folder he had been holding and took out a grainy still image from a video and passed it to Ashley. “This is the car that was following your sister. Have you seen this car before?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Ashley said, looking at the picture.
The detective took out another picture and passed it to her. “Okay, this is the man that was driving the car. Have you ever seen him?”
Ashley took the picture and held it close to her face. “It’s blurry.”
“I know it is, sweetheart. Try looking at this one.” He handed her another one, which really wasn’t any clearer.
“It’s blurry too,” she whined.
“Yeah, that’s the problem. They’re all kinda blurry.” He handed her a couple more pictures, and as she looked through them, he said to Celia and me, “These pictures are the only real lead we have. This is the car that witnesses said approached Avery while she was walking in the parking lot, and it’s the car that was seen following her.”
“You can’t see the image of the tag?” I asked him, thinking how much better the quality would be if it had been some of my equipment.
“No, we tried.”
“Maybe, but in this one,” Ashley said as she held up one of the pictures.
“You recognize the man?” Celia said.
“I think I do. It kinda looks like my mom’s old boyfriend a little,” Ashley said, passing the picture to Celia. “Look, Aunt Celia.”
“Oh shit,” Celia said. “She’s right.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“It’s Terry, one of the guys Diane was dating a couple of months ago.”
“Yeah, he’s the guy that Mommy robbed and Avery shot at.”
I closed my eyes and hoped this guy hadn’t found Kendra and did to her what he had tried to do with Avery.
Kendra
I woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. My eyes fluttered open, and I smiled as I saw the floral wallpaper of the bedroom where I was sleeping. I remembered how as a child, I always wanted flowered wallpaper, but my mother never let me get it. I pulled the comfy quilted bedspread tighter around me and looked around the room: the family photos on the wall, the shiny gold jewelry box on the dresser. I sat up in the bed and stretched, enjoying the warmth of the sun that was streaming through the blinds. After lying in bed a few minutes longer, I finally got up and ventured down the hallway.
“Well, good morning.” A loud voice greeted me when I walked into the kitchen.
I smiled and said, “Good morning.”
“About time you woke up to eat. Your breakfast been waiting on you,” said the older woman sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper.
“I’m not all that hungry,” I told her as I sat in the empty chair across from her.
“Nonsense. I know you’re hungry. You ain’t hardly touch your food last night,” she said, standing up and going over to the stove. The food that she was speaking of was the plate of baked chicken, cabbage, macaroni and cheese, rice and gravy, and cornbread that she cooked for me when I showed up on her doorstep, crying uncontrollably. I had only been to Sierra’s house, where she lived with Gran, her grandmother, once or twice, but I remembered exactly how to get there, and when Gran opened the door, she ushered me right inside. We sat on her sofa, and she rocked me in her lap while I told her everything and was all cried out. Then, she left the room and came back holding a handkerchief and a glass of something that she told me to drink. I took it from her, took a swig, and nearly choked.
“I thought this was tea, Gran.” I coughed.
“No, it’s probably Wild Turkey.” Sierra snickered.
“It’s good for your nerves and your mind. Helps you think,” Gran told me.
I tipped the glass to my lips again, this time taking a slow sip. The liquid burned as it went down my throat, but for some reason, I liked it. The tension that was in my head lessened.
“See, you feel better already, don’t you?” Gran asked me.
I nodded. Gran then had us follow her into the kitchen, where Sierra and I sat while she cooked and talked to us for hours. By the time dinner was done, I was exhausted emotionally and physically and had no energy to eat. I was also a little tipsy. She insisted that I spend the night, and I immediately accepted the invitation.
“Come on. I’ll show you where the extra bedroom is,” Sierra said. We walked out to my car so I could grab my stuff.
“Thanks, girl. I’m sorry I popped up like this, but I didn’t have anywhere . . . and Bilal . . .” I said, feeling embarrassed and guilty at the same time.
“What the hell are you apologizing for? I told you from the jump you could come and stay here. You’re my best friend. Although I’m mad Bilal turned out to be a fuck boy. I know how much you liked him.” Sierra sighed.
At the mention of Bilal’s name, I felt a lump in my throat. I was tired of crying and just wanted to sleep. “I did. But at least he showed me his true colors sooner rather than later. I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.”
“I understand.”
I gave her a hug and said, “Thanks, Sierra. I appreciate this.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “That’s what besties are for. Now, come on so you can go to bed, and I’m gonna go in here and help Gran put this food up before she starts screaming my name.”
“Sierraaaaaaa!” Gran yelled, and we hurried back inside.
I took a shower and had the most peaceful night’s sleep I’d had in weeks, with no thoughts of my mother, Bilal, Aunt Celia, or my sisters. Gran had been right: Wild Turkey was good for my nerves and my mind. My heart was still aching, but I felt a little better.
“Here you go.” Gran set a plate holding pancakes that were so big, there wasn’t enough room for the bacon on the plate, so she just laid the slices on top. “Now, you want some juice or milk?”
“Gran, I can’t eat all of this,” I said.
“Juice or milk?” she asked again, leaning into the open refrigerator.
“Juice,” I answered.
“Apple, orange, or cranberry? You been cuddled up with that boy, so we’re gonna give you cranberry to clean you out,” she said.
“Gran, really?” Sierra shook her head, then mouthed the word sorry to me.
“Oh my God, Gran.” I began blushing, wondering if, during my emotional breakdown, I had shared a little more than I should have. “I guess as long as it ain’t Wild Turkey.”
“Here you go.” She put the glass of cranberry juice in front of me, along with a bottle of syrup.
“Thanks again, Gran,” I said, biting into a piece of bacon.
“Stop thanking me, girl.” She picked up the paper and went back to reading.
“But I really appreciate you. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I should’ve came here when she first kicked me out when Sierra told me, instead of going to Bilal’s. It’s just that he was so supportive.” I sighed.
“You know, when I was growing up, my mother was the same way,” Gran said, her face still hidden behind the newspaper.
“She was?” I asked.
“Yep, couldn’t stand me and treated me real bad. Used to cuss me out and embarrass me all the time, put her hands on me for no reason.”
“Her mama tried to kill her,” Sierra added.
“What” I gasped.
“Yeah, she stabbed me.” Gran sighed. “She hated me. But I learned why.”
I put my fork down and paused before I asked, “Why?”
“My mama was jealous of me. That was her problem. From the
moment I was born, she took issue with me. She couldn’t stand the way my daddy’s attention went from her to me, the way he doted on me and loved me. She couldn’t handle it. Had somehow made up in her mind that he loved me more than her, and she turned cold toward him. Eventually, she drove him away, and once he was gone, she got even madder at me.”
I thought about how my mother always teased me about my looks. When I was small, she would call me “Light Bright,” and not in a good way. I grew up hating my lighter complexion and curly hair, and especially my eyes, because she called me a green-eyed monster countless times. But, the strange thing was that I resembled her. I never understood why she disliked me so much, and now I was starting to understand.
“My mother has always hated me,” I said.
“Listen to me.” Gran put the paper down and looked at me. “That ain’t got nothing to do with you. It’s got to do with her. Those are her issues, not yours. You’re smart and beautiful—”
“She’s smart and beautiful too,” I said, wondering why I felt the need to defend the woman who I had just admitted hated me my entire life. It made no damn sense. I wanted to hate her as much as she hated me. She deserved it. But for some reason, I couldn’t.
“But unlike her, you have your entire life ahead of you, and a chance to have everything she’s ever wanted and didn’t have. And that makes her jealous, which is her issue, and not yours. She’s your mother, and I know you still love her the same way I loved mine even after she tried to kill me, but you’re at a point in your life where you’re going to have to learn the same way I did. You’re gonna have to love yourself more. You’ve gotta get out of that toxic environment and that toxic relationship that you have with her. It ain’t good for you,” Gran told me.
“She’s right, Kendra. You can’t keep living like that.” Sierra reached over and grabbed my hand.
“But it’s not really about her. It’s about my little sisters, too,” I explained.
“You can still be there for them,” Gran told me.
“How?” I said, using my napkin to wipe the corners of my eyes, where fresh tears were forming.
“By creating a better life for yourself. Now, eat up before that food gets cold.” Gran went back to reading her paper, and I dug into the plate in front of me.
Diane
“Di, I’m telling you, don’t do this. We can come up with another plan,” Patrick said after handing me the duffle bag of cash.
“We already got a plan, and it’s a good one. You’re just punking out, and I ain’t.” I took the bag from him and put it in the trunk of my car.
“This Junie dude is bad news. The people he’s dealing with ain’t legit. I don’t wanna see you hurt.”
“There’s no such thing as legit in the drug game, Patrick. And I’ll be fine. I know how to handle myself. Now, I gotta go. You already got me looking stupid because I ain’t got all the fucking money I said I was gonna have. But I’ll make it work,” I said, not wanting to waste any more time listening to him try to convince me not to go through with this.
“Listen, I have a guy at the church who—”
“I’ll call you later to get the rest of my money and figure the rest of this shit out. Oh, and make sure you contact that lawyer, because the police have been blowing my phone up, and we need to file that lawsuit against the police department. That’s really gonna be my next come up,” I said, opening my car door and climbing in.
“Diane—”
I left him standing in the parking lot of the neighborhood grocery store where we had met. I called Junie and told him the amount of cash I had, and he promised to call me back in an hour. This was finally about to be it. My chance to finally have something I’d never had: real money.
Since becoming a mother at seventeen, I had struggled. Even after Champ and I got married, it was still a struggle. I’d never had the finer things like Celia had. I couldn’t buy my children the latest cell phone or get them tickets to concerts, but she could. Once this was handled, she wouldn’t be the queen bitch that she thought she was; it would finally be me.
I decided to wait for Junie’s call at the hospital and was almost there when Darnell called. I ignored it twice, but when he called a third time, I answered.
“What do you want?” I asked, making sure he heard the attitude in my voice. The last time we talked, he was cussing me out about Celia, and I wasn’t trying to hear him whining about her.
“That’s how you answer the phone now?”
“It’s my damn phone. I answer it the way I wanna answer it. Now, what the hell do you want?”
“I wanna see you. Where are you?”
“I’m at home, and I’m not alone,” I said.
“You’re lying. I’m sitting outside of your house, and your ass ain’t there.”
“What the hell are you doing? Stalking me? I got shit to do today, so I don’t have time to give you no ass, if that’s what you’re trying to do. You’re gonna just have to—”
“Damn it, Di, I’m not trying to fuck you. I’m trying to talk to you. I need to talk to somebody, and yeah, we have a good time in bed, but I thought we were friends.” His tone was serious, and I was stunned. Clearly, something was wrong.
I looked at the time. I hadn’t been to the hospital and needed to go see Avery. Then again, chances were that Celia was already there anyway, so she was fine. I would go and sit with her later instead.
“Fine. Where are you, Darnell?”
“Can you meet me at Crawford Park in twenty minutes?”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up next to him. He was standing beside his car. “You getting in, or am I getting out?”
“I’ll get in,” he said. As he walked around the front of my car, I saw that he was dressed in a shirt and tie. Whatever was bothering him had him so messed up that he hadn’t gone into work.
“What’s going on?” I asked when he got in.
“You tell me,” he said.
“Nothing’s going on with me, Darnell,” I told him. “You’re the one acting all suicidal and shit.”
“I can’t tell. What’s up with you and Patrick?”
“Nothing’s up with us. He’s helping me straighten some things out, that’s all. I told you that before when you asked me about him.” I sighed.
“Don’t lie to me, Di. Something’s up with y’all. I saw him going into your house the other day. You fucked him, didn’t you?” His stare was intense as he waited for my answer.
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Oh, hell naw. Get the hell out of my car, Darnell,” I said as I reached over to open the door for him.
He grabbed my wrist and held it. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this?”
“Doing what? What the hell is wrong with you, Darnell?” I finally yanked away from him.
“It’s over, Di. I’m leaving Celia,” he said.
I was stunned by his words. My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. His hand remained on my wrist, and I slid my hand up so that my fingers were now intertwined with his.
“Darnell.” I finally managed to speak.
“I don’t want to be with her anymore. I’m done.”
“But . . . I don’t understand why.” I couldn’t believe it. Darnell and Celia had been together forever. And although I had been sleeping with him and we had been caught, I didn’t think they would break up. Hell, men cheated all the time and stayed married, so I didn’t think they would be any different.
“Because I’m not happy, that’s why. I think that’s why I was with you, honestly, because you were different. I felt alive and just . . . free.” He sighed.
“Yeah, I am way different.” I laughed half-heartedly.
He smiled, but he said, “You are. And I want to still be with you, Di.”
“What?” I gasped.
“I’m in love with you, Di. That’s why I n
eed to know what’s up with you and Patrick.” He touched my face with his free hand, and my stomach fluttered. I hadn’t had a man tell me he was in love with me since Champ. I suddenly felt strange.
“Darnell . . .”
“Di, don’t you love me too?”
I looked into his eyes, and I wondered if I really did love him. I no longer even knew what love felt like. It never mattered to me. I only cared about getting what I could get from guys and leaving them alone before they could get close enough to break my heart. Men were just the means to an end, and love was never part of the equation. At least, I didn’t think it was.
“I don’t know, Darnell.”
“If you don’t, then that’s fine. You go and be with whoever the fuck you wanna be with. But I’m leaving Celia, and I want to be with you. I want to build a life with you, but I also need to be able to trust you.”
I thought about the possibility of being with Darnell and having everything Celia had, except with my kids. Life would be so different, and the struggle would finally be over. Darnell made good money. I could go back to school and become a nurse, or a cosmetologist. or any other dream I used to have before I got knocked up and my life fell apart. Darnell had at least been somewhat consistent, and he was right. We did have fun when we hung out. I enjoyed being with him. Maybe I did love him.
“Yes, Darnell. I love you.” I nodded and kissed him. His mouth was warm, and his tongue seduced mine until the car became so hot that the windows fogged up.
When the kiss ended, he said, “Good. And Patrick?”
“There’s nothing between Patrick and me, Darnell. You’re right, we had sex, but it wasn’t even good sex. It’s just business at this point, and after today, I won’t even need him anymore anyway.”
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“We were supposed to use both shares of our money and flip it in the streets, but he punked out, so I had to go another route,” I told him. “I got the cash in the trunk of the car right now.”
“So, you mean to tell me you’re using the money from Avery’s GoFundMe and other contributions to buy drugs, Diane? That’s crazy, not to mention illegal. That money is supposed to be used for her,” he said, shaking his head at me.
