“You’re not. Get upstairs and put on something decent!”
“But, Daddy—”
“Bridget Elizabeth Hamilton, you get upstairs this minute and put on some clothes. Not something too tight or anything so loose it’s hanging to your kneecaps. Do I make myself clear?”
Bridget sucked in her breath and nodded angrily at her father.
“And wash that junk off your face. No daughter of mine is running out of here looking like the red-light special on Hooker Avenue.”
Bridget flew up the stairs to her room, but not before Dwayne noticed the bright tears that glistened in the corners of her eyes.
“Damn!” He realized he’d been too tough on her. At the sound of her stereo blaring, he knew she wouldn’t open the door if he went to apologize. Teenagers, he thought. They should come with an instruction manual. He finished his coffee and went upstairs to get ready to attend Curtis Durden’s funeral.
Sonya changed seven times before deciding on her black pantsuit. What did it matter, anyway? She would probably be the only one there with a dry face. Who would notice? Laura had been crying since her release from jail. In the beginning, Sonya was sympathetic, but now she wished that her sister would start thinking about her pending case. Everything, it seemed, sent Laura in a crying frenzy. Last night, the cook made the mistake of making mashed potatoes and steak. It was the same dinner that Laura had prepared for her husband the night he was killed. The next thing Sonya knew, Laura was crying a river of tears. Now Richard Durden, Curtis’s brother, had showed up at her doorstep, insisting that he overlook the plans for Curtis’s funeral. Hell, she thought, I didn’t even know the bum had a family, and frankly, Sonya hadn’t started any proceedings to bury Curtis.
Laura went out of her way to avoid Richard, saying that she couldn’t bear looking into those familiar dark eyes. Sonya believed it was all in Laura’s head, since she didn’t see any similarity. However, that really didn’t mean anything. People had for years told her that she and Laura looked nothing alike. The fact of the matter was Sonya took after her father, and Laura was the exact replica of their mother.
Sonya always hated her looks. Even now, looking back at her reflection in the mirror, she hated the face that stared back at her. As much as she wanted to forget, she knew she would always remember…
“Shh, be quiet,” a younger Sonya whispered to her six-year-old sister.
Laura nodded her head, yet Sonya saw fear reflected in her eyes there. Their parents had been fighting for more than an hour, and their mother’s screams were growing louder by the second. There were a few times Sonya caught herself jumping at the sounds of broken glass being shattered against the walls downstairs.
Suddenly the room flooded with light. Sonya watched in horror as their mother stumbled toward them. Laura grabbed Sonya’s arm so tightly, she could feel her tiny nails digging into her skin.
“Come on, babies,” their mother gestured.
Neither girl moved. They were too scared to even breathe.
“Come on, babies. Please, come to Mama. We’re leaving.”
At the thought of being able to leave, Sonya inched her way toward her mother. She flinched slightly at the sight of her mother’s bruised face.
Laura’s grip wasn’t easing up any, either, but she didn’t want to pry her sister’s fingers loose. It was important to keep Laura calm, she kept telling herself. She looked back at Laura and then to her mother, who was frantically waving for her daughters to hurry.
Once they were in arm’s reach, she could feel Laura being snatched up by their mother, who also grabbed her hand to ensure that Sonya followed her.
They all raced down the stairs and headed toward the door. But before they could reach the knob, Sonya heard the familiar bellow from her father.
“Just where in the hell do you think you’re going?”
Sonya knew they were in trouble. She could feel her mother’s fingers tremble madly in her hand as Laura began to cry.
“Nowhere,” she heard her mother lie. Laura was placed beside her once again as her mother took a protective stand in front of them. Yet, Sonya realized, there was no one there to protect her mother from her father.
“Dorothy, don’t you lie to me, damn it! Where are you going?”
Sonya peeked around her mother’s leg to look at her father’s snarling face. He was going to hit her mother again, she could tell. She felt her mother’s body vibrate with fear in front of her. Sonya quietly pulled her sister closer to her.
Before she knew what happened, her mother was being dragged off by her hair into the living room, kicking and screaming the entire way….
Sonya closed her eyes to the painful memory. Her entire body shook as she turned away from the mirror. Why couldn’t she forget? she asked herself, but her troubled thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me. Laura.”
“Come in.” Sonya turned to face her sister. When she saw Laura still dressed in her house robe, Sonya became suspicious.
“I don’t think I’m going,” Laura said, looking down at her feet.
“What do you mean?” Sonya’s voice rose an octave.
“I…I just don’t think I’m up to it,” came her excuse.
Sonya tried to calm down. She did, after all, expect this from Laura. “It’s your husband’s funeral,” Sonya said reasonably.
“I know. I just don’t think that I can go through with this.”
“What will it look like if you don’t attend the funeral? Have you thought about that?”
“I don’t care what it looks like, Sonya. I said I’m not going!” Laura declared, then thrust her chin upward.
Sonya knew she couldn’t make Laura attend the funeral. Yet she wished that she could make Laura see that she was only hurting her case by not attending.
“Laura,” Sonya began patiently, but she held her tongue the moment she noticed Laura’s eyes take on a glossy sheen. She turned away and shook her head wearily. “I’ll make your apologies at the funeral.”
“Thank you.”
Sonya heard the door close behind Laura, and she turned to stare at the door. “Great,” she mumbled to herself. “Just great.” She closed her eyes as she felt the beginnings of a major migraine.
“It was a beautiful service,” Sharon complimented, patting Sonya on the back.
“Don’t thank me. Richard made all the arrangements.” Sonya took a sip of her Coke.
“Who’s Richard?” James handed his wife a glass of Coke for herself.
“Curtis’s brother—”
“I didn’t know that Curtis had a brother,” Sharon interrupted.
“Join the family,” Sonya answered.
“Are there any other members from Curtis’s family here?” James asked, scanning the room.
“That I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know half the people here.”
“Why didn’t Laura attend?” Sharon inquired.
“Trust me. I tried to get her to attend, but she is still too distraught over this whole situation.”
“They brought so much food,” Sharon observed. “Good thing he was cremated. I don’t think I would’ve been too comfortable staring in the face of that evil man,” Sharon added.
Sonya looked around the room for the millionth time.
“Looking for someone?” Sharon asked, following Sonya’s eyes.
“Yes…no. I was hoping to talk to Dwayne on how the case is going.”
“Dwayne, is it now?” Sharon arched a curious brow.
Sonya rolled her eyes heavenward.
“There you are,” Dwayne said, walking up to the small group.
“Hello, brother dear.” Sharon reached up to deliver a kiss to his right cheek. “We were just talking about you.”
“Anything good?” he asked, looking directly at Sonya.
Sonya’s stomach performed acrobatics.
“It was a good service,” he commented.
“Curtis’s b
rother, Richard, arranged the service,” Sonya answered stiffly.
“Oh, I see.” Dwayne nodded.
Sonya caught Sharon elbowing her husband.
“We must be going now,” James cut in, finally catching on to his wife’s meaning.
“Yes, James has a flight for New York to finish preparing for,” Sharon added.
“And I also have to get back home,” Dwayne excused himself.
“Is it my perfume?” Sonya joked.
“A woman with a sense of humor,” Dwayne teased. “I like that.”
Sonya’s shoulders took their regular position as she started to return with a smart remark, but thought better of it. “Good day, Mr. Hamilton,” she finally said with a forced smile and turned away from the group.
“Fascinating,” Dwayne mumbled.
“So you do like her?” Sharon asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
“What’s not to like?” he asked halfway to himself.
“Good. I think she likes you, too,” Sharon said, continuing to play Cupid.
Dwayne turned and looked skeptically at his sister. “How can you tell that? By the fireballs she launches with her eyes or the heavy sarcasm she tosses my way whenever she sees me?”
“Don’t pay any of that any attention. I think she’s warming up to you.”
Dwayne rolled his eyes at his sister, then he walked away.
“I do, I really do,” Sharon called after him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” James said, taking her by the arm. “I think it’s time we left.”
Dwayne arrived home early. He was hoping to get some work done. He could take only so much sitting in his office. Seeing Bridget’s Jeep parked in the garage instantly flared his curiosity. I thought she was going over to Sylvia’s house.
Entering through the kitchen, his body froze at hearing the familiar laughter of his daughter mingled with a heavy baritone. Finally he pushed open the kitchen door that led to the living room. His eyes widened with alarm at seeing his daughter half dressed and in the arms of a strange boy. Her giggling instantly ceased as father and daughter’s eyes clashed together.
“Daddy!”
Chapter 8
Dwayne sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his shaking hands. He could still feel Shock G.’s neck between his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry. When he saw George’s arms laced possessively around his baby, he wanted to tear the boy from limb to limb. Even now, he wondered if he should have let the boy go. He could tell George was relieved, by the way he stumbled over the furniture on the way out of the house.
Dwayne ordered Bridget to her room with the promise that he would deal with her later. Right now, it was in her best interest to let him calm down. Where did I go wrong? Am I doing such a bad job of raising her?
He reflected on his discipline tactics in the past years, and felt he had been both fair and lenient. He couldn’t remember whether he gave his parents as much grief when he was a teenager. If so, he wished he could apologize.
They weren’t able to see their granddaughter, but he knew that they would be proud of her. His parents had both passed away by the time he entered his first year of college. He wished he could seek some parental advice from his mother on how to handle Bridget.
Dwayne glanced at Theresa’s picture that sat on his nightstand. He missed her. He missed her warm laughter and kind heart. He picked up the small silver frame and traced his finger along the sharp edges. How would she handle this situation?
Dwayne studied her light brown eyes and gentle smile and felt a dull ache in his chest. Lying back on his bed, still holding the frame, he remembered the day his dreams came to a crashing halt….
“Theresa, are you all right?” Dwayne demanded, while he banged on the bathroom door. She had been in there for thirty minutes, and he could hear her soft sobs through the door. “Theresa, sweetheart, please let me in,” he pleaded. There was a long silence before he heard the lock turn.
When he saw the redness of her eyes and nose, he instantly drew her to him. He held her for a long time, as her tears drenched his shirt.
Theresa drew herself away from her husband and forced a smile for his benefit as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
Dwayne gently reached up and began stroking her long hair. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking into her eyes.
She avoided his eyes and nodded.
“Come here,” he instructed her. He took her by the hand and pulled her into their bedroom. She sat down on the bed, while Dwayne kneeled down in front of her and took her delicate hands into his own.
“Theresa, please tell me what happened at the doctor’s office today.”
Again there was an unnerving silence that hung in the air between them. When she at last was ready to speak, she lifted her chin and held Dwayne’s gaze. “I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer.”
Dwayne felt the force of her words and exactly what they meant. He wanted desperately for her to take them back, to say that it wasn’t true. Cancer? She couldn’t have cancer. She was too young. She was only twenty-two. They had their whole life ahead of them. “We’ll get a second opinion,” Dwayne stammered.
“That was the third doctor I’ve seen. I couldn’t tell you until I was sure.”
“How far along?”
“It’s serious, Dwayne. I found out too late.”
Dwayne thought of their two-year-old daughter who lay sleeping in her bed. He thought about how Theresa had sacrificed her medical studies to send him through law school. He was a second-year student. When he was able, he’d planned to send her back to med school. He thought of their plans together and felt them all slipping away. “We’ll get through this,” he said as tears gathered in his eyes.
“Of course we will,” she said, hugging him close to her. It was her turn to comfort him.
Dwayne wanted desperately for there to be a mistake. His tears shook his entire body as he held on to his wife.
Theresa fought for as long as she could, but the disease proved to be too much for her. She died a year later.
Dwayne knocked lightly on Bridget’s door. “Bridget, let me in.”
“Go away!” she screamed.
Dwayne took a deep breath and tried again. “Bridget, please open up.” After a brief moment, Bridget unlocked the door.
“Are you going to start yelling again?” she asked.
Dwayne noticed her red eyes. “No,” he answered gently.
She allowed him entrance. Dwayne avoided stepping on the large piles of clothes spread throughout her floor. Posters of her favorite rap artists hung from every wall, as well as famous basketball stars.
Dwayne took a seat on the edge of her bed and hoped that he hadn’t crushed anything valuable. “Have a seat,” he directed, patting the spot next to him.
Bridget plopped next to her father and avoided making eye contact. Dwayne leaned over and took her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look at him.
“My beautiful little girl.” He brushed a lock of curls from her face. “Why do you want to grow up so fast?”
She pulled her chin away and looked down at her braided fingers.
“Bridget, I want to understand what’s wrong. Maybe you can help me. All I know is, in the past year, you’ve got it in your head that you’re going to do what you want to do, when you want to do it. I can’t have that. There’s only room for one adult in this house—and that’s me. Some of the things you pull, you know better. The rules of this house haven’t changed. I expect your homework and chores done without me having to follow up behind you. Lately all you think about are boys, boys, boys—”
“Daddy, you don’t understand,” Bridget interrupted.
“I do understand. I was a boy once, you know. I’m here to tell you—those boys want one thing and one thing only.”
“Nothing happened, Daddy,” Bridget said matter-of-factly.
Dwayne’s shoulders slumped in relief. “What would have happened if
I didn’t come home?”
“Nothing. Don’t you trust me?” Bridget frowned.
“Of course I trust you. It’s those street thugs I don’t trust.”
Bridget rolled her eyes at her father and looked as if she was bored by his logic.
Dwayne counted to ten before he spoke again. Bridget was normally a sweet girl, but since she turned sixteen, she acted as if she knew everything. “Bridget, you’re a pretty girl. You remind me so much of your mother. I’m trying to raise you to have more pride in yourself. I know you’re young, but you’re not that young. You’re a lady, and you should demand respect for who you are.”
Dwayne took another moment before he spoke again. “Don’t let anyone dictate to you that you deserve nothing less than the best. You’re too smart for that. I want my daughter to have the best of everything. I made that promise to your mother a long time ago, and it’s a promise I intend to keep.”
By the way Bridget began to hold herself upright, Dwayne knew his words were getting through. He placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead, then stood up from the bed. “Please feel like you can come to me or Aunt Sharon when something is troubling you.”
Bridget gave him a brief smile, then he turned to leave the room. “Oh, about this afternoon. You know you’re grounded, right?”
Bridget’s smile faded. “Of course.”
Chapter 9
Laura stepped from her bath water wrapped in a fluffy pink towel. She felt better today yet she wasn’t sure about facing the world so soon. However, she was grateful that Sonya’s estate separated her from the real world, even if it was for only a little while. Laura walked into the accompanying bedroom as she dried herself.
There were so many things she wanted to get accomplished today. First, she wanted to contact Mr. Hamilton. She hadn’t been very cooperative since this whole ordeal began, but today she wanted to start helping with her own defense. She wasn’t looking forward to returning to jail. Laura hated having to lean on her sister for help. In her heart, she truly loved Sonya and knew, for the most part, she was only trying to help. Yet sometimes she didn’t want Sonya to interfere so much. However, she did realize—had she listened to Sonya—she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
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