As we watch the sky sparkle Aunt Liz says to me and Imani, “I’ll be traveling a lot this summer, so I want to spend as much quality time with you as possible.” She takes a bite of rum cake. “I’m hosting a brunch on Saturday. You two are welcome to come.”
I tell Aunt Liz I can make it, but Imani says, “I might be able to stop by.” Like she is some important executive who has a ton of business meetings or something.
“Stop by?” Aunt Liz puts her hands on her hip. “What, you and Asher got a date or something?”
“Inspire Harlem stuff,” Asher says. Like he wants to make it clear that he’d never pull her away from the family.
Imani adds, “Inspire Harlem has programming on Saturdays, so that’s why I can’t make it.”
“Well, I guess that’s a good excuse,” Aunt Liz says.
Aunt Ebony joins in. “But it won’t be the same without you. If your event ends early you’ve got to come by.”
Imani nods. “Okay,” she says, but I know her and I know that tone. I know when she means something and when she doesn’t.
The night ends with Imani in Asher’s arms, standing in a corner by themselves watching the sky glow. I am standing with my mom, splitting the last seltzer with her. “You know, when you were a little girl, you were afraid of fireworks,” she tells me. We gaze out at the sky, the explosions of color coming nonstop. “You’d cry and cry at the sound of fireworks. You would have been terrified at something like this. Hated everything about the Fourth of July.” Mom laughs at the memory. “Funny how people change.”
Mom is talking about me; I’m thinking about Imani.
4 THINGS I’VE NEVER TOLD MY MOM
1.That the week before I moved out, I heard Mom crying in the middle of the night. A sobbing cry, a flood of despair. A cry that lasted and lasted until her tears rocked her to sleep.
2.That the night before I moved out, I heard Mom crying on the phone telling someone (Grandma? Aunt Ebony? Aunt Liz? one of her boyfriends?) that money was tight, that a two-bedroom apartment cost too much, that things would be easier if she didn’t have to take care of me.
3.That the day I moved out, I started that argument on purpose because I knew she’d never kick me out but that I needed to go.
4.That every day since that day, I have missed her. That it’s not that I don’t love her, I just need more than she can give.
10
Today, Aunt Liz is having her brunch. She’s invited a few of her close friends, and two of her clients are here too. Both of them are up-and-coming singers. We’ve all gathered on the rooftop. Well, not all of us. Imani is not here. And neither is my mom. Even Grandma is here, and I know she is not pleased that her daughter and granddaughter are not coming.
Aunt Liz has catered the brunch. The spread looks just as fancy as the one on the Fourth of July, but there’s not as much food. Just ackee and saltfish, fried bammy, and callaloo.
“I could have made breakfast, Liz.” Aunt Ebony says.
They have this conversation every single time we gather here.
Aunt Liz says, “This is supposed to be a chill day. I didn’t want anyone to have to do anything.” She fills her glass with cranberry juice and takes a sip. “So, Imani is really not coming, huh?”
Aunt Ebony sighs and sits down at a table. “Not this time.”
I wonder if there will ever be a time when Imani puts her family first and tells Ms. Lori she can’t make the meeting, or the event, or the special whatever because she is spending time with her family.
“Aw, I really wanted to spend some quality time with her,” Aunt Liz says.
“Me too.” Aunt Ebony shakes her head and repeats herself, “Me too.”
Aunt Liz asks, “Nala, is your mom coming?”
“I don’t know.”
She looks at her watch, says, “Well, okay, then, let’s go ahead and eat.”
Aunt Ebony stands and walks over to the food table to make Grandma’s plate so that Grandma doesn’t have to get up.
Before I fix my plate I stand at the balcony and look down. Being up this high makes everything below look like a miniature land of make-believe people walking their dogs, riding their bicycles.
“Come eat, Nala,” Aunt Ebony says. “What are you over there thinking about?”
Grandma chuckles. “Her new friend, probably.”
Here we go.
Aunt Liz says, “Do tell, do tell.”
Aunt Ebony’s eyebrows are perched high, and she is leaning forward, her whole body asking, “What?”
I just walk over to the table and fix my plate, not saying a word.
Aunt Liz clears her throat. “Come on, now, at least tell us his name.”
I give in and smile. “His name is Tye.”
“Good to know. I’ll leave it at that . . . for now,” Aunt Liz says. She can tell that I don’t want to talk about it, and she never makes me talk when I don’t want to. I don’t know why I haven’t talked with them about Tye. I think maybe it’s because if I start bringing him around, he’ll start getting to know the real me.
Grandma looks at Aunt Liz and says, “And what about you? Any new names we need to know about?”
“Mother, please.”
Whenever Aunt Liz calls Grandma “Mother,” it is not good.
“Please, what? I’m just asking a question. Would be nice to see you get married before I pass on.”
“Really, Momma? Really?” Aunt Ebony steps in. She gives an apologetic look to Aunt Liz’s company. They all seem right at home and are enjoying the conversation.
Aunt Liz clears her throat. “Okay, here’s the situation—when there’s someone to tell you about, I will. Until then, you can assume that there are no good prospects.”
“But aren’t you at least going out on dates?” Grandma asks.
I’m glad she can be nosy and all up in Aunt Liz’s business because I want to know too.
Aunt Liz says, “I recently met a guy online, and when we got together in person he was absolutely nothing like he presented himself to be in his profile. I mean, what, did he think I wouldn’t notice? I don’t understand why people lie to get someone’s attention. Don’t they know the truth will come out?” Aunt Liz starts laughing when she tells us how his pictures had to be at least five years younger and lots of pounds lighter and that he put “self-employed” when he should have put “unemployed.” “Big difference,” she says.
We all laugh, but inside, I feel a twinge of guilt wrapping around my heart. Grandma sips her orange juice and says, “Well, I guess I need to keep on praying, then. It would be nice have some new grandbabies around here.”
Aunt Liz just shakes her head.
We eat, and then people group off in twos and threes and talk and mingle. Once the first person announces they are leaving and says goodbye, all of Aunt Liz’s friends start making their way to the elevator but not before hugging us all and thanking Aunt Liz for hosting.
Now it is just family. Grandma, Aunt Ebony, Aunt Liz, and I go inside because now the afternoon sun is blazing. We stay at Aunt Liz’s, talking all afternoon. Then, Aunt Ebony turns on the television and we watch a marathon of Living Single. Every time we say “Okay, last episode,” we can’t help ourselves and we watch the next one. Grandma has dozed off only twice. I’m impressed. Usually, the TV is watching her instead of the other way around. So many times when I’m at her apartment and we’re watching television together, Grandma closes her eyes. I usually wait till I know for sure she is asleep and then I change the channel. No matter how quiet I am, Grandma jumps up out of her sleep and says, “I was watching that.”