“So you left her there? Fuck you, Coco!”
I whispered my rage. Through the kitchen door, Mama’s story voice was loud and holding laughter. She was still talking about Roscoe, before he’d gone to the chain gang. That boy had been a caution.
My sister’s physician’s reserve, the coldness, always seemed to fit her, but now her face was wet. “Fuck me, Ailey? No, I didn’t leave her! I was paying her utilities, even though she wouldn’t talk to me—”
“That’s because you’re so judgmental—”
“When have I ever judged either one of y’all? Why do you think I sent you to that clinic when I knew Lydia lived in that neighborhood? I was hoping you would bring her home! I mean, it’s not like you have a job or care about anybody but your damned self. I figured I’d give you something useful to do, but of course, you fucked that up—”
“That is so mean and low-down—”
“You know what else is mean and low-down? That you don’t do a goddamn thing for this family but take! Do you even know what I do for y’all? No, because you don’t ask! I’m working thirty-six-hour shifts for my residency so I can pay for Nana’s care! You think Medicaid covers everything? Shit. My girlfriend can’t even work a real job, because she’s looking after that woman full-time, and who do you think paid for Lydia’s funeral? I don’t have a cent left in savings! And if it wasn’t for Mr. Harris giving me the money to ship the body, we couldn’t have even buried her down home! He wanted to pay for the funeral, too, but I was too embarrassed—”
“—you said you took up a collection—”
“—what else did you want me to do, Ailey? Ask you for six thousand dollars, plus shipping costs, and you don’t even have a job?”
When I said nothing, she snorted.
“See? This is what I mean. You just took it for granted that the money would be there. And you know why? Because you’re selfish—”
“That’s not true! I was trying to bring Lydia home. I was giving it some time. Things were hard for her.”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“No, Coco. Really hard. Like, Gandee hurt her. He molested her, like he did me.”
I watched her face.
“You think that motherfucker didn’t mess with me, too? Well, he did.”
“Oh God, Coco.”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me! I’m fine! And you don’t see me using Gandee as an excuse to sleep late and be lazy and eat up somebody else’s groceries. And before you feel the need to trot around telling folks, you keep this shit to yourself. How you think it would make Mama feel? What’s she supposed to do, go to Gandee’s grave and cuss out his headstone?”
“I didn’t say I would tell. I’m just telling you.”
“Okay, so you did. Now get on with your life. Just try to make something of yourself, like I did. Not that anybody cares about me. You and Lydia, that’s it. That’s all Mama has ever paid attention to.”
She picked up a plate from the counter, dumping bones and bits of greens into the scrap bowl. I walked quickly out of the kitchen, almost jogging. At the dining table, I filled my plate a second time. When I finished, I wanted banana pudding.
I kept eating another plate and bowl, one after the other, until I couldn’t hold anything else inside. In the bathroom, I vomited in the toilet bowl. When the first wave came, I pissed through my underwear. After I wiped down the floor of the bathroom, I sprayed some cleaner, leaned back from the fumes, and wiped again. I stripped off my clothes and underwear and looked in the mirror. My cheeks were red underneath the brown, my eyes puffed with tears. I started running the shower.
*
The next morning, I poked my head in the kitchen to tell my mother and aunt I was headed to work. No rest for the weary, and my mother smiled. She told me she was proud of her baby.
At Zulu’s Fufu, I ordered my food. I just wanted to hurry back to Lydia’s apartment. Eat my food quick, but Mr. Harris called my name from a booth in the back.
I gave him a neutral wave and he walked up to me.
“Ailey! What you know good, girl?”
“Hey, Mr. Harris.”
He leaned in for a side hug. “And how your mama doing?”
“She’s keeping, Mr. Harris.”
“Come on back when you get your food. Sit with me a spell.”
The waitress called my number and I went up to collect my takeaways. I checked the path to the door, but knew there was no escape. I couldn’t take a man’s free food and dash.