“You know, when my sister died in that car accident, me and your Aunt Juanita stepped in and tried to help Clay raise you children. We used to get both of you on the weekends. But you’re father stopped that.”
“Why?”
“He thought we would turn Bruce into a sissy.”
“What?”
“One weekend when we took y’all home, your brother was crying like a baby because you were playing dress up and we wouldn’t let him play, mostly because we didn’t have anything for him to dress up in.”
“I remember that,” Me’shelle said and smiled.
“After that, Clay wouldn’t let Bruce come out here without him. So Bruce just sat there in front of that idiot box with your father.”
“He said that too. He said Daddy wouldn’t say anything about him being a crackhead. He’d just sit in his chair and stare at the TV like he always did,” she said sadly.
“Your father wasn’t always like that. Clay Lawrence was so full of life, and full of himself, for that matter. And he loved my baby sister Sabrina so much that when she died, a part of him died too.
“I remember when we were growing up in Columbia. Your mother loved Jackie Wilson. So your father put on a suit, came to our house, and put on a show in front of your mother’s window,” Miranda recalled.
“Daddy? Singing?”
“Singing and dancing. He started out singing “A Woman, A Lover, A Friend.” Then he sang “Lonely Teardrops,” broke into “Doggin’ Around” and finished with “Baby Workout.” By the time he was finished, half the neighborhood was out there watching your father perform.”
“I can’t believe that. You’re talking about my father? Could he sing?”
“He could carry a tune, but he was no Jackie Wilson.”
“I just can’t see Daddy singing and dancing.” Me’shelle laughed.
“Yeah, well, the man you grew up with ain’t the same man I remember. Not the man your mother married. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I was happy for him when he died. I felt that only then could he be free from the life without Sabrina that made him so miserable. He told me once after you kids were grown that he wished he could go on and die so he could be with his Sabrina again.”
“I never knew he felt that way,” Me’shelle said sadly. “I knew he missed Mommy, but I never knew that he was just waiting for us to grow up so he could die,” she said as the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it, Aunt Miranda.”
“I don’t know why. It ain’t nobody but Juanita. I don’t know why she just doesn’t use her key. Always wanna act like she’s a guest,” Miranda said, but Me’shelle went to open it anyway.
Me’shelle let her in. “Hi, Aunt Juanita.”
“Good afternoon, Me’shelle. How are you today?” Juanita asked as she came into her sister’s house.
“I’m fine. I’m a little tired, but other than that I’m fine.” Me’shelle gave her aunt a hug and a kiss.
“Hey, Miranda,” Juanita said as she went into the kitchen and sat down at the table next to her sister. “You both missed a good service this morning. Pastor Franks gave a fine sermon. My Lord, that man can preach.”
“What was it about?” Me’shelle asked.
“Being honest and facing things about yourself, ’cause God knows who you are. You can’t hide from him, so you might as well be honest.”
“That’s right,” Me’shelle said. “Honest self-evaluation is a beautiful thing.”
“Me’shelle, when are you goin’ to stop gettin’ your religion from those self help books and come back to church?” Juanita asked Me’shelle, but Miranda answered with a question.
“Was that big head Trent there with that slut?” she asked as she got up and began to put dinner on the table.
“Yes, he was there, and yes, she was with him.”
“When him and the slut stop coming every Sunday, that’s when she’ll start going to that church again,” Miranda answered and Me’shelle smiled.
“For the life of me, I don’t understand why she has to show her cleavage for all the world to see,” Juanita said, shaking her head. She got a knife out of the drawer and began to slice the ham.
“Because she’s a slut, that’s why.” Miranda stated the obvious answer.
“It is a shame to see half the men in church falling all over themselves trying to find a reason to stand in front of her. And the older men are worst. Can’t even look her in the eyes ’cause they’re all down in that cleavage,” Juanita said.
Me’shelle hugged both of her aunts. “You two are something else, but I love you both,” she said and let out a deep yawn.
“What are you yawning for, Me’shelle? Did you have a date last night?” Juanita asked excitedly.
“No, her brother came by at four in the morning,” Miranda said.
“You need to stop giving Bruce all of your money for him to smoke up,” Juanita said.
“I know, Aunt Juanita, but he’s my brother,” Me’shelle said while she put the vegetables into bowls.
“He’s my nephew, but I don’t give him any money, and I don’t allow him or Natalie to come in my house. I had to learn that the hard way, ’cause they will steal everything they think they can take to the pawn shop,” Juanita preached while she carried a plate with the ham she had sliced, along with a plate of chicken, and put them on the dining room table. She came back in the kitchen still preaching. “I don’t know why Miranda still lets him in here.”
“I just don’t let him out of my sight,” Miranda said as she pulled the baked macaroni and cheese from the oven. “He’s still family, but I ain’t stupid. But hold up, wait a minute. Ain’t you the one who always says that people like that need our prayers?”
“Yes, I am,” Juanita said. “And I pray for Bruce and Natalie, and I especially pray for poor Brandy. She’s the one that needs all of our help and prayers and understanding. Having two junkies for parents has to be hard on her. I only wish I could have gotten custody of her, but that Natalie’s a smart one. She knew how to clean herself up and get her a job just long enough to have the judge let her stay with them.”
“I wish you had too,” Me’shelle said. “I try to spend as much time with her as I can, but I know it’s not enough. She’s fifteen now, going on twenty-two, and looking like it too. I think she’s a little young to be hangin’ out all night, but they let her do what she wants to. And did you know she started smoking cigarettes?”
“No, but I’m not surprised,” Miranda said. “Next thing she’ll be smokin that stuff with them and they’ll have her out selling herself so they can get high just like her mother.”
“You know, Aunt Miranda, it’s just the three of us. Why do you cook enough food to feed an army? I have to go on a diet, starve myself and exercise so I won’t get fat.”
The doorbell rang and Juanita went to answer it. “Are you expecting somebody, Miranda?”
“No, not that I know of. Maybe Me’shelle talked up some guests for dinner,” Miranda replied.
Juanita opened the door and there stood Bruce, Natalie, and Brandy. “What are you doing here?” Juanita asked, blocking the door.
“What? I ain’t invited to Sunday dinner no more?” Bruce asked.
Miranda rushed to the door. “Of course you are. He is family, Juanita. Get out of the way and let them in.”
“That’s right, Aunt Juanita. We still a part of this family whether you like it or not,” Bruce said as he walked by Juanita. Natalie followed him. Brandy just stood there looking at Juanita.
“Hi, Aunt Juanita. Can I come in?”
“Of course you can, child. Come give your aunt a hug. You look more and more like your grandmother, rest her soul, every day.”
Miranda and Me’shelle came to welcome Brandy with hugs and kisses. “Yes, she does,” Miranda said. “How are you doing, Brandy?”
“I’m doin’ great, Aunt Miranda. What’s up, Me’shelle?” Brandy hugged her aunt.
Bruce and Natalie didn’t get the same reception. Their presence in the house was met with cold stares and a general feeling of tension. Juanita watched them closely while the rest of the food was set out on the table. She never took her eyes off of them while Me’shelle and Brandy brought out the silverware and set the table. Now that dinner was ready, they all gathered around the table and bowed their heads in prayer.