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  Spice got up and went to the kitchen to pour herself a drink. “I never thought about it that way,” she said, sitting back down on the sofa.

  Carmen stared at her friend. Her house felt dead. “You know,” she said, finishing her drink and then pouring herself another straight double shot of vodka, “there’s something warm and friendly about a drink.” She drained the glass and slammed it down on the table, feeling relieved, feeling empty.

  “By the way, have you spoken to Sterling lately?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Spice’s voice was defensive. “I’m tired of hearing her sorry excuses.”

  “Why not try praising her, instead of downing her all the time? Sterling needs to be praised more. I’ve known you both—hell, all three of you—since the girls were small. Sterling has always wanted from you something no one else can supply. Don’t ask me what—it’s just there—how she watched you, her little arms outstretched. Even now, the way she acts so bad, she needs you.”

  “For what? Praise her for what? She never does anything right. You’re right. You’ve known her all of her life. So tell me one good thing that you’ve seen her do?”

  Carmen was silent.

  “Nothing,” Spice continued. “Not one mediocre thing. Oh, she’s good at starting things. But she has yet to finish anything. The girl’s got talent. She can draw her ass off. But will she finish school and get a degree? No, not Sterling. Even though she’s already spent enough of my money for three degrees—”

  “Stop talking about money, Spice. You know money isn’t the issue. Besides, you can afford it. And Sterling knows that.” Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Sterling needs acceptance for who she is. She needs understanding. Especially yours. She’s crying out for your love, and you constantly turn her away. I don’t think that you understand how much you’re hurting her. Some of Sterling’s problems, believe it or not, are not totally her fault. You should try listening to her instead of hollering at her all the time.”

  “I remember when I held her for the first time. That was nearly twenty-six years ago.”

  “She was a beautiful baby, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah.” Spice sighed.

  “And she’s still that baby in a lot of ways.”

  “No. No way. She’s evil, an evil child.” Spice’s voice lowered to a whisper.

  “Everyone’s got a touch of evil in them. Even you, Spice.” Carmen watched Spice roll her eyes, then look away.

  “How dare—”

  “I dare because I’m your friend, and I’m trying to save you the pain of grieving over a child that’s alive, that’s here, now. A child that needs to know that you love her.”

  The room filled with silent anger. In the quiet seconds that passed between Spice and Carmen, the dry sound of a branch breaking outside could be heard.

  Carmen was tired now—all talked out. She felt the lull of the liquor tugging at her to seek sleep. But she knew she had to resolve this conversation while she could still focus. And Carmen knew if they didn’t work it out, Spice would withdraw.

  As the bitterness sat between them, Carmen felt a rush of love and respect for Spice—borne on a wave of fear. Desperate to make amends, she spoke in a passionate voice. “Reach out to her, Spice. Sterling is precious to both of us. She’s special.”

  Spice said, “You sound like one of Golden Westbrook’s tapes.”

  “I read my Bible,” said Carmen, “I have faith. My dues aren’t paid yet. But I know when they are, God will forgive me.” Her voice trembled with sincerity. “I’m certain of that.”

  “I’m sorry, Carmen. I know I need to try more with Sterling, but she makes it so hard to love her.”

  “God knows. God knows my weaknesses, too. But I know that one day He will release me, He will heal me.”

  “Same here, sweetie. But I’m angry with God. Didn’t He know I would need the love of my mother? How can I wholeheartedly love my daughters when I haven’t been taught how?” Tears were in Spice’s eyes when she finished.

  Carmen’s voice was solemn but full of wisdom when she spoke to Spice. “Without a mother’s love, who will protect our children? How will our children heal? Who will cry for our children? Who will hear them cry? Who will love our child?” She reached for a tissue on the table and wiped away Spice’s tears. “You’ve got to forgive your mother.”

  “I can’t.” Spice turned away, fresh tears standing in her eyes. “She gave me away.”

  “There had to be a reason.” Carmen’s words were slurred and slower now. She felt the dulling effect of the alcohol. She had to stay focused. They were both trying. There was so much past between the two women . . . and so much still yet to be spoken out loud.

  “I’ve imagined two thousand excuses for my mother, and none of them are good enough.” Spice rose and gathered her coat and purse.

  In a state of bone-deep fatigue, Carmen lifted her body from the sofa and stood beside Spice in the small entryway. She embraced her friend, and they said good night. As she let go of Spice, Carmen felt her body sway.

  From stints in rehabilitation clinics, she knew that alcohol, like most other depressants, created an overabundance of dopamine in the body. Right now she felt as though she were standing outside of herself, watching a movie and staring at herself. She hadn’t believed this could happen, but here it was.

  When Carmen caught sight of herself in the foyer mirror, she saw her face as God would see it. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes, the sallow skin, the hollow cheeks, the oatmeal-like complexion.

  What she saw was the face of a woman healed—a face of glory like a Sabbath psalm. It was the face that God wanted her to see. It was a sign.

  MINK

  “Yes—they are good boys,” said a kind father. “I talk to them much, but I do not beat my children: the world will beat them.”

  —ELIHU BURRITT

  M ink hadn’t seen her husband in over two weeks. Their schedules had never been so mismatched. She was on the final leg of a five-day trip, leaving for home tomorrow morning, and she couldn’t wait to get there.

  Even though it was the middle of February, the temperature in Orlando, Florida, topped eighty degrees. Most of the employees at Pyramid Airlines were out of their uniforms, and enjoying the sunny weather.

  After an afternoon of sight-seeing and shopping, Mink and Julie were returning to the Marriott, exhausted. Both juggled heavy shopping bags. Once inside the hotel lobby, the flirtatious bellboy offered to help them with their packages. Mink said quickly, “No, thank you. We’ll manage.”

  “Can you believe that little shit,” Julie said, pressing the elevator button. “He can’t be more than twenty.”

  “Hey there, sisters,” a husky voice called out as they waited for their elevator.

  Both women turned simultaneously toward two gentlemen stepping off an adjoining elevator.

  Mink nodded hello first, and Julie followed, smiling.

  Julie’s warm smile turned out to be a mistake.

  “Are you girls from Miami?” the taller of the two men asked, moving closer to Julie.

  “No, Michigan. I’m a flight attendant at Pyramid Airlines.”

  “I meant to say Detroit.” The taller man smiled, showing a chipped front tooth. “I can spot my beautiful black sisters from the North just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers twice.

  “Nice meeting you two,” Mink cut in, “but we’re in kind of a hurry.” Impatient, she pressed the elevator button again.

  The shorter man finally spoke up. “How about meeting us later for a drink in the bar?”

  “Sorry. We’re tied up,” Mink said.

  “Can’t you speak for yourself ?” the taller man addressed Julie. “I’m Hank, my friend here is Jeff.”

  “Nice meeting you, Hank, Jeff,” Julie said.

  Her impatience growing by the second, Mink was about to lose her cool.

  “As you can see,” Julie said diplomatically, “we’ve been sho
pping all day and we’re pretty wiped out. Some other time?”

  When Hank casually touched Julie’s arm, she jumped two steps back.

  “Bad move, Hank.” Mink placed both hands on her hips and spoke between clenched teeth. “Don’t you touch her! She said ‘No, thank you.’ Don’t you get it?”

  Hotel guests brushed past the group with an inquisitive scowl on their faces. Laughter echoed from the bar adjacent to them.

  “So, I get it now. Yeah, I thought so,” Jeff said, rolling his eyes at Julie.

  “You get what—” Even Mink didn’t really know what was driving her to act so nastily.

  “Come on, man, these bitches ain’t worth it, anyway,” Jeff said to Hank, nudging his shoulder. “Let’s go, man.”

  “Naw, I remember when y’all used to be called stewardesses,” Hank said, scratching his buttocks. “Now you all want to be called flight attendants. Think you too good for black men like us, huh?”

  “No,” said Julie. “But—”

  While her friend spoke, Mink noticed the particles of lint stuck to the ends of the man’s Jheri-Kurl. “We’re both married,” she finished, even though Julie was recently divorced.

  “Oh, so y’all don’t kick it with a brother every now and then—”

  “Um, brothers, we don’t want any trouble,” Julie said, looking around at the passersby, who were now focusing their attention on them. “I think—”

  “I don’t remember asking you no questions,” the little man said, moving closer to Julie.

  She immediately stepped back. The raunchy scent of cheap, sweet wine on his breath polluted the air.

  “Come on, Julie, let’s go.” Mink nodded her head toward the open elevator.

  Just as they turned to leave, Julie heard the little one mumble loudly enough for them to hear, “Just what I thought, a pair of dyke-ass bitches.”

  Mink and Julie whipped their heads back around, saying in a soprano chorus, “Say what?”

  “Y’all really need to step off us, ’cause y’all never be half the man ya mammies was,” mocked Julie.

  Bolder now, the little guy said, grabbing his crotch with a tight fist, “Y’all freaks done forgot what a real dick feels like.” He walked back up to Mink and got in her face. She was a good two and a half inches taller than he was. “So, you da man and she the girl,” he said, pointing first at Mink, then at Julie. He swayed and dipped his shoulders from left to right as he walked backward.

  “No,” said Mink, handing Julie her bags and walking toward him, “I’m just not interested. And neither is my friend.” She was in his face now. “You got a problem with that?”

  The taller man came up to stand beside his friend. “And you,” he said, pointing at Julie, “don’t start that shit talking ’bout my mama. Don’t try and dog me, you might get hurt, girl. Believe me, honey, you ain’t the shit.”

  “And—”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, girl,” said the small guy, shaking himself loose from his friend. “Y’all just go on about your business and we’ll go on about ours, okay? Bounce.”

  From the corner of her eye, Mink could see the bellboy who’d tried to help them earlier speaking with two Caucasian men at the front desk and pointing toward them. If there was one thing that would get the white establishment’s attention, it was a group of black folks looking as though they were about to start trouble. That spelled riot in the minds of most whites.

  Suddenly a gentle voice called, “Mink. Julie. Can I be of any assistance?”

  Mink was suddenly staring into Harrison Fielding’s expressive eyes. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve seen nearly the entire crew, except you, today.”

  “I do my shopping with a credit card and a telephone,” Harrison said, smiling at Mink.

  Mink heard the high sound of Julie giggling and turned back around. Hank and Jeff had hit the road.

  “I’ll take those, ladies,” Harrison said, gathering up both women’s packages.

  “Thanks, Harrison,” Mink said, suddenly nervous.

  Harrison waited to speak again until they all were inside the elevator and the doors closed. “I was at the front desk complaining about the broken fax in my room and caught the end of what was happening. You girls okay?”

  “We wouldn’t have been. I believe that in two more seconds Mink would’ve slapped the tall one. Great timing, Captain Harrison,” Julie said. Company policy at Pyramid dictated that the whole crew—captain, co-pilot, flight engineer, and flight attendants—always work together as a group. The strategy was they would maintain smoother relationships in the air and during the entire trip. Good communication was essential when hundreds of passengers depended on positive energy within the crew.

  Before the incident with the two men, Mink had planned on going back to her room and turning in early in preparation for take-off in the morning.

  “How’s about the three of us meeting in my room for drinks in an hour?” Julie suggested. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m still a little hyped up.”

  Harrison checked his watch and said, “I’ve got to make a few calls.”

  To your wife, I’ll bet, Mink thought.

  “But I’ll be free around eight,” he said, looking directly at Mink. “Stop by my room.” His voice deepened. “We can play a few hands of cards.”

  “Bid wisk?” Julie asked.

  “No,” Harrison said, smiling. “Strip poker.”

  Hush my mouth, Mink thought, giggling.

  An hour later, Julie knocked on Mink’s door. “Are you going?” she asked as soon as she entered the room.

  “Where?”

  “You know good and damned well what I mean.”

  “Oh, Harrison. I hadn’t given it much thought.”

  Julie plopped down on the sofa. “Then why is your face painted like a china doll’s?”

  Mink looked away, embarrassed. “Okay, you busted me.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about Dwight.”

  Mink sat beside Julie, exhaling. “I don’t understand the attraction myself. I’ve got way more than the average American dreamer. But ever since Harrison and I made that flight together last month, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.”

  “Try spending more time with your family. Don’t make the same mistake that I did.”

  “What are you saying, Julie?”

  “The reason why my husband divorced me is because I was never there. I took his love for granted and put my career first. Give up the overtime—your marriage is worth it.”

  “Dwight—”

  “Understands? Don’t kid yourself. Chauncey, my ex, loved my last week’s drawers. He still does. And I love him—always will.” Her voice wavered. “But too much damage has been done. Making a marriage work requires more than love. I know it sounds old, but time and commitment are very important issues between a husband and wife. If you don’t put that man first in your life, another woman will.”

  Mink gave that statement more thought than she usually allowed herself. Sure, she’d wondered if Dwight fooled around. But she’d never found anything on his clothing or in his wallet to cause her to believe that he’d been unfaithful. He was always so busy and so wrapped up with Azure. In the summer months his landscaping business took all his free time. He couldn’t possibly have the time to screw around on her, could he?

  “It’s cold outside, honey. Even though we’re sitting here in Florida in this warm weather, back home them menfolks want a warm soul lying next to them every now and then. And I ain’t talking about no puppy dog, either.”

  Jelly Jam flashed before Mink’s eyes. For some reason, she had never liked that dog.

  I know my man, Mink thought. He’d never do that to me.

  * * *

  Like ghosts, everybody talks about true love, but few have seen it. The second night after Mink returned home and slept alone in her bed, she was haunted. She dreamed she caught Dwight in their bed with another woman. The dream seemed so real, she woke up clen
ching her teeth and fists. Unable to go back to sleep, she went downstairs, made a pot of coffee, and pulled out a stack of interior design magazines.

  A few hours later, about eight in the morning, the doorbell rang.

  “Hello, Mink.” Spice kissed her check. “I’m bearing gifts today. Where’s my grandbaby?”

  “Here I am, Grandma,” Azure said, running into the living room.

  “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve something for you, too,” Mink told her mother. One thing about the Witherspoons: they didn’t need an occasion to buy each other gifts. Mink noticed that her mother looked a bit more fatigued than she had during their lunch date three weeks ago. Working too hard, no doubt.

  When Mink returned Azure had opened her gift. “Thanks, Grandma,” she said, hugging Spice.

  Spice lifted Azure and her baby doll into her arms. The African American porcelain doll had black curly Persian lamb hair, pearl earrings, painted fingernails, and patent-leather shoes. Dressed in a soft white lace shift over a black velvet dress, the doll was stunning.

  “Promise me that the next time you see Aunt Carmen, you will thank her and give her a big kiss. Okay? It took her months to make the baby doll.”

  “I promise,” Azure said, slipping down from Spice’s lap. Just then Erma called her for breakfast.

  “Here.” Mink held out two boxes, handing Spice the larger of the two. “Give this one to Carmen,” she said, placing it next to her mother’s box.

  Spice seemed surprised by Mink’s gifts. “The wrapping is so pretty, I’m afraid to spoil it by opening it.”

  “Go on, Spice. You’re just as nosy as I am.” Mink smiled, enjoying a moment of pleasure she’d given her mother.

  After removing the ribbon carefully, Spice felt her eyes mist with tears as she opened the package. Inside were two bright red copper and golden yellow seventeenth-century luster pitchers. Spice gasped, turning the priceless pieces over and over. “They’re beautiful. I’ve been looking for ages . . .”

  “I know. It took some time to track down, but it’s worth seeing the surprise on your face now.” Mink was suddenly embarrassed. Her mother rarely showed such emotion. “C’mon. You can help me turn my house into a showplace like yours.”