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“Well, that’s good to hear.” Deanna ran her hand over his head affectionately.
“Is Natalie here?” Callie asked, knowing this was a touchy subject.
“Yeah. Like you, she couldn’t make it before today. She just arrived a little while ago. We’ve said hi, but not much else.”
Callie nodded. “Where is she?”
“Downstairs in the bathroom. She was…” Deanna paused, swallowed. “A wreck.”
“Yeah,” Callie said softly, knowing the feeling. Deanna’s own eyes were red and puffy, indicating that she had cried a lot of tears. But it was clear she was trying to keep it together now.
Callie took a good, long look at Deanna. Her sister had definitely changed in ten years. Her face was still slim, but her body had filled out, turning her from a skinny teen into a woman. Ten years ago, Deanna had liked wearing her hair shoulder length, but now it was cut into a short style and combed back from her face, letting her beauty show.
“Uncle Dave said you’d been in a car crash.” Deanna’s eyes swept over her, assessing her injuries. “But he said you told him it wasn’t serious. Yet you’re wearing a sling, and you’ve got a big bandage on your head. It looks like you were pretty hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” Callie said.
Deanna looked at Kwame. “But he was unhurt?”
“Thank God.”
Deanna sighed softly. “Yes, thank God. I’m so glad you’re both here.”
As silence passed between them, Callie knew that Deanna was thinking the accident could have been much worse. That it could have taken both her and Kwame’s lives.
“Why don’t you come with me for a minute?” Deanna said, wrapping an arm around Kwame’s shoulders. “I’ll introduce you to some other family members.”
“Okay.”
As Deanna began to walk with Kwame, she gave Callie a look, then jerked her head ever-so-slightly toward the front of the church. She was letting her know that this was a good time to go and pay her final respects to their aunt.
Callie moved forward, her legs feeling like lead as she made her way to the polished mahogany casket. Floral arrangements filled the front of the church. Callie saw the wreath she was certain she had ordered, the one that read “Beloved Mother” and was brightly colored, made up of pink, orange, yellow and lime-colored flowers.
Also at the front of the church were pictures of Auntie Jean in happier times. She had been so full of life, it seemed impossible that her life had been cut down at fifty-seven from a brain aneurysm.
Callie stepped up to the coffin and looked down at her aunt. Tears began to fall again. She was comforted only by the fact that Auntie Jean looked peaceful.
When she felt the arms encircle her waist, Callie looked to her right. Kwame was there at her side, being there for her once more, offering her his strength.
“This is your great-aunt, honey,” Callie said. “You met her a few times when she came to Florida to see us, but the last time was three years ago.” Way too long.
“She was beautiful,” Kwame said.
“Yes, she was,” Callie said, and leaned her head down to touch Kwame’s, as her shoulder injury prevented her from hugging him properly.
“Callie?”
At the sound of the tentative female voice behind her, Callie turned. Her youngest sister, Natalie, stood a few feet away. A sob escaping her lips, Natalie moved forward, and the two sisters embraced.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” Natalie said. “It’s been so long.”
“I know. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances that we are seeing each other.”
Natalie nodded. She shot a brief glance over her shoulder in Deanna’s direction, and Callie couldn’t help wondering if her two sisters were going to continue their feuding.
“And what happened to you? I hear—and see—that you were in a car accident.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Callie said. She glanced beyond Natalie to where her uncle was sitting on a pew, looking grief stricken. “But I’ve got to say hi to Uncle Dave, and the rest of the family.”
“Yes, of course.”
Uncle Dave stood as she approached him. He seemed frail, weak with sorrow. He had married their aunt two years after they’d gone to live with her, and he’d been the only father they’d ever known.
“Uncle Dave,” Callie said, wrapping her good arm around him. She felt his frame shudder with a sob.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Of course I would come,” Callie said, again feeling guilt.
Because there was no of course about it, at least not where Uncle Dave was concerned. How could he have been certain that she would come when she had so effortlessly put Cleveland in her rearview mirror? Yes, she’d been in touch with Auntie Jean and Uncle Dave, but less and less over the years, and she had seen them only when they’d come to Florida to visit.
“I’m sorry,” Callie whispered. It was all she could say. Because no excuse she gave to justify her absence all these years was going to be substantial enough.
But she was here now, ready to start fresh.
* * *
The funeral service was extremely moving, resulting in tears flowing from everyone’s eyes. Uncle Dave, whom Callie had only known to be strong, was inconsolable as the pallbearers took his wife’s coffin from the church.
The rain continued to fall, making the cemetery burial a soggy mess, but no one was concerned about the discomfort. All they wished was that Jean Henry could be back with them.
Callie had heard that rain was a blessing, and she only hoped that the spring downpour was a sign that Auntie Jean had ascended to heaven to be with her maker.
All Callie really wanted to do after the graveside service was head back to her old home and sleep for a few hours, but Uncle Dave’s brothers and sisters were hosting a repast for all the mourners at the house. Callie had no choice but to participate.
The extended family and friends had made all kinds of food and desserts, and after a few hours of solemn mourning, many people were now smiling and laughing as they remembered Auntie Jean. Callie knew her aunt would want it this way, but she wasn’t yet ready to smile.
“Do you want something to drink, Mom?” Kwame asked.
Callie was sitting on a love seat in the living room with her son, still feeling numb despite the chatter and activity around her. She wasn’t hungry at all, and had already refused his offer to get her food. She was about to tell him that she didn’t need anything to drink, but thought better of it. Her son was trying to take care of her, something she appreciated.
“You know what? I wouldn’t mind some tea.”
Kwame gave her a smile, and got up from the love seat. About ten seconds after he went into the kitchen, Deanna came into the living room and took the vacant seat beside her.
For a long moment, they were silent. Then Deanna sighed and said, “You know what I was kind of thinking today? Hoping…”
She didn’t finish her statement, but the lump that lodged in Callie’s throat said she knew what she’d been about to say. And while she had wanted to keep her mind from going there, she’d also had the same fleeting thought.
“Our mother,” Callie concluded. “You thought she might show up.”
“Auntie Jean is her sister, after all.”
Callie looked forward, her jaw tightening. She hated thinking about their mother. It always brought her down. Twenty-three years ago, she had waited by the window in this very house, day and night, for their mother to return, as she’d promised.
She never had.
“Maybe she couldn’t come,” Callie said. “I mean, maybe…”
Deanna’s eyes closed tightly, even though Callie didn’t finish her statement. But with all this time that had passed, how could either of them ignore the possibility that their mother could be dead?
Certainly, for their aunt to have died, Miriam Hart would have made it to the funeral if she could have.
So many questions where their mother was concerned, yet no answers.
Callie didn’t want to think about their mother anymore, so she said, “I know it’s been a busy day, and you and Natalie haven’t really had a chance to talk. But I’m wondering…do you think you’re going to patch things up?”
“Ten years have passed,” Deanna said.
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“I know… What I’m saying is, ten years have passed. I’m willing to put the past in the past.”
Callie raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Deanna sighed softly. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but if Auntie Jean’s passing hasn’t made it clear that holding grudges is pointless…”
There had been a lot going on today, but Callie had noticed that Natalie was making sure to avoid Deanna. The funeral and the aftermath was allowing both of them to be busy and completely avoid each other.
“You’re going to have to try to talk to her soon then,” Callie said. “Because she might be getting on a plane and heading back to Texas before we know it. Isn’t her husband’s team in the NBA finals? She’ll want to be there to support him.”
“You haven’t heard?” Deanna asked.
“Heard what?”
“Natalie and Vance split up. At least, that’s the gossip. You never know if it’s true or not, but I did notice she wasn’t wearing a wedding band.”
Callie narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed. All she knew—from her aunt and uncle and from various news clips about four years earlier—was that Natalie had married a basketball star who played for the San Antonio Badgers. She didn’t keep up with celebrity gossip, and hadn’t heard anything about a split.
“I had no clue,” Callie said.
“The word is, Vance couldn’t be faithful. The latest news is that they just split a few weeks ago.”
Perhaps that explained why Natalie seemed completely inconsolable. She had been crying almost constantly, and had excused herself to head upstairs and lie down once they’d gotten back to the house.
“Wow, that’s horrible,” Callie commented.
“Yeah,” Deanna said softly. She paused. “When I first heard, I couldn’t help thinking that she got what she deserved. After what she did to me… But seeing her today, seeing how much pain she’s in…well, all I could do was feel pity.”
“All the more reason to let her know that you’re willing to put the past behind you,” Callie pointed out. “Men may come into our lives for a season, but we’re blood. We never should have drifted apart.”
“I hear you,” Deanna said.
One of them would have to make the first move. If she had to, Callie would do it on their behalf, once all the visitors had left the house.
In the grand scheme of things, how stupid had the whole incident been. Ten years they had been out of each other’s lives, and for what? Natalie had seduced Deanna’s boyfriend, which had been a horrible thing to do, and the rift between Natalie and Deanna had begun.
Callie remembered getting into the middle of the conflict, trying to help both of her sisters see the light. But they’d been so absorbed in their own differences and unable to reconcile, and had gotten mad at Callie for not understanding that the other sister was at fault.
Having had a close friend who had died after a severe police beating at the time, Callie grew tired of her younger sisters’ squabble. There were far more important things to deal with in the world.
Like the fact that she’d been pregnant and confused, and had felt alone.
“Speaking of men coming into our lives for a season,” Deanna began, “guess who dropped by the funeral home last night?”
“I don’t know,” Callie said, shrugging. Then she guessed the name of the guy Deanna and Natalie had become estranged over. “Marvin?”
“No, not Marvin, thank God. Nigel.”
Nigel! At the sound of his name, Callie’s heart slammed against her rib cage. Nigel had come to pay his respects to Auntie Jean?
Why was she surprised? Auntie Jean had adored him when they were together, and he her. One of the reasons Callie had stayed away and not told her family the entire truth was because she couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t let her secret slip to Nigel.
“He—he did?” Callie asked, her voice a croak.
“Mmm-hmm.”
Good Lord, was he going to drop by the house today? Callie suddenly looked toward the front door, as if he might show up at any moment.
“Did you—you talk to him?” Callie asked, then swallowed.
“Briefly. He said he came in to pay respects to Uncle Dave and the family. He offered us condolences, said how sorry he was for our loss, then he left.”
Did he ask about me? That was the next question on Callie’s lips, but somehow she stopped herself from asking it. As if she even had the right to think that after what she’d done.
Her stomach clenched, knowing that what she had planned to do was going to be excruciatingly hard. But it had to be done. As difficult as it would be to face Nigel, she knew that she had to.
She only hoped that when she dropped her doozy of a bombshell on him, he didn’t hate her forever.
Chapter 2
“Detective Williams?”
Nigel Williams sat up straight when he heard the soft voice on the other end of the line. Was this the call he had been waiting for?
“Yes,” he said. “This is Detective Williams.”
“I hear you wanted to talk to me.”
