Page 15 of Bone Dust

“Absolutely. You also helped me to make a cake. You licked the chocolate icing clean off the spoon.”

Gigi’s nose scrunches as she smiles. “I did, Momma, and the chocolate was weally good.”

“Chocolate, huh?” I feign surprise. “I’ll bet you liked that. After all, chocolate is your absolute favorite.”

Again, she throws her arms around my neck, displaying her affection. “It is! It’s so yummy—and you can have some cake, Momma! All you want!” She glances at Cora. “Momma can have some, Ms. Cora?”

“Yep. Momma can have some.”

Cora Brooks looks at my little one with love in her eyes. “Ms. Cora”, as she’s affectionately known to Gigi, is in her late forties, but you’d never know it. Her toned figure and vibrant aura make her seem younger than her years. With fiery red hair and an infectious laugh, she puts me in mind of an actress in an old Elvis Presley movie. Ann Margaret and Cora could be sisters and the likeness had me doing a double take the first time I saw her.

I had strolled by her house with Gigi in tow, enjoying the reprieve that only comes when a teething child is fast asleep. The sweet scent of roses lured me toward her garden. It was in full bloom with flowers so big and fragrant that I smelled them before I saw them. I stopped, taking in the heady fragrance that cleared away remnants of Gigi’s earlier diaper blowout. Cora’s back was to me as she worked diligently in the flower bed. She paused when I complimented her work, and laughed off the praise, pushing damp, coppery strands from her forehead with the back of her gloved hand.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” She confessed. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

She approached me. “May I?”

I nodded and she peeked in on a peaceful Gigi, gushing over my little girl’s perfection. Of course, I agreed with her, like any new mom would. After chatting for quite a while, I invited her to come visit us, and a few days later, Cora arrived on my doorstep with homemade biscotti and a bottle of wine.

“You looked like you needed a break when I saw you last.” I opened the door wide for her to enter while placing a finger to my lips in a silent message.

“The baby’s asleep.”

“Then, it’s a perfect time for wine.”

“I can’t,” I protested. “She’ll be up soon.

“You can. That’s why I’m here. I can help.”

I was a leary. After all, we’d just met, but after half of a glass Gigi woke up and true to her word, she helped me, rocking Gigi in her arms as I rinsed off some dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Our friendship grew deep roots, and three years later, I count Cora as close as family. It was she who encouraged me to get out of the house and when Sam offered me a spot to sing at Mad Dog, she volunteered to babysit Gigi.

Not all family are blood ties.

Gigi lifts her hands and places them on my face. “Momma, you cheeks is red—and they’s hot.” Her brows crunch with concern.

“Your cheeks are red, sweet girl.” I correct her and press the back of my hand against my face.

“No, Momma. It’s youse cheeks. Not mine.” She pulls back, ignoring the grammar correction. A second later, she splays her fingers against me to test the temperature of my skin. “Is you sick?” She cocks her head to the side like a curious puppy, her eyes filled with concern.

“No, baby doll. I’m okay. Just tired.” I push against my knees to stand, and Gigi remains near me, slipping her hand into mine. “Good day today?” I ask Cora.

“How could I have a bad day with this perfect angel,” Cora answers, and Gigi’s expression brightens like the sun. “She’s always a good girl for me, Savi. No trouble at all. Her vocabulary is really expanding. Today she informed me that the pudding was scrumptious.” Gigi’s ears perk up.

Cora always knows how to send me an unspoken message. While I fret over things like correcting my child’s grammar, she makes a comment that turns my focus to something positive I’ve done. Gigi does have a big vocabulary for someone her age, but I didn’t linger with a lot of baby talk when teaching Gigi how to speak.

I look down at my baby’s face. She’s glowing with pride. “You’re such an intelligent little girl, you know that? I hook my hands under her arms and smoothly glide her onto my hip. “You are absolutely, positively, the best little girl in the whole wide world,” I say as I nuzzle her, planting tickling kisses on her neck until she giggles.

“I don’t know what we’d do without Ms. Cora.”

Cora joins our love huddle. “And you won’t ever find out. You’re my girls! I love you—especially this little munchkin.” Cora lovingly caresses Gigi’s silky, blonde curls. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

You’ve had Gigi all day. That’s the last thing you should worry about.”

“Stop. It isn’t a big deal. Gigi’s already eaten. I made beef stew and rolls, and Gigi helped. It was good. All I have to do is warm it up.”

Gigi glides her fingers into my hand. “I did, Momma. It’s yummy.”

The two of them have already made my decision for me, it seems. I give her hand a slight squeeze. “If you’re sure it’s no trouble—but I’ll do the cleanup.”

---