Page 82 of Beyond The Stars

“You have a family to take care of. We’ll link up sooner than later.”

“Yea, soon ain’t soon enough. I miss you, girl.”

Siasia laughed. “You need to make friends, Candi.”

Candi rolled her eyes. “Lollipop here is my friend. Ain’t that right?” she cooed at her horse.

“Can I come to Alabama and meet Lollipop one day?” Noodle pushed through the middle of the front of the car to put her face in the camera.

Candi smiled big and wide, her dark skin shining under the sun. “Noodle Doodle, you can come whenever. You and your sister need to come spend a week out here in this Alabama heat.”

With wide eyes, Noodle looked at Siasia asking, can we go? with her eyes.

Siasia knew a small vacation would be perfect for the both of them. So she agreed before ending the call with Candi. She wanted to be able to spend some time with her sister and check on her feelings.

Lynn Beach’s streets were a little more congested than they were just a few weeks ago. With the kids being out of school for the summer now, there were more people on the road. Travelers came from every corner of the country to soak in the sun and bury their toes in the sand.

“How have you been feeling? I know there’s been a lot going on since the funeral,” Siasia asked, her fingers tapping along to the song in her head since her car’s radio didn’t work.

Noodle stared out the window, thinking about what she wanted to say—how much of her true feelings she wanted to reveal. “I’m sad because you sad, SiSi. I loved Mama but Daddy…” She picked at her chipping polish she’d got done when she went to the salon with Malaysia and Esmeray. “I wanted to love him but I didn’t. Is it wrong if I’m not sad they’re gone?”

Siasia swallowed hard, almost choking on how thick Noodle’s revelation was. Was it wrong if she didn’t mourn her parents? That was a loaded question and one Siasia needed to sit with. “It’s your feelings, Noodle. I can’t tell you how to feel, and I won’t make you feel away if you don’t feel the way I do. How do you feel about living with Qamar?” she asked next. It seemed they’d moved fast but the way their circumstances were set up, the five months of their whirlwind of a chaotic romance felt longer.

“I love Qamar, SiSi. And his family!” Her voice danced with excitement, the inflection shifting to a vibrant tone that sparkled with joy. “Do you love him?”

Siasia pulled up to the trailer park, the familiar sights bringing a wave of memories crashing over her like the summer waves at Lynn Beach. The deaths of Cynthia and Stacy didn’t do anything to change the people who lived around them. Or maybe it was their neighbors didn’t have the luxury of letting someone else’s business effect their bottom line. There was still trash on the curb and rusted old barbeque grills scattered around. Even on a beautiful summer day, the trailer park was drab, sad, and unloved—just like Cynthia.

Just like Siasia. Before there was a Qamar.

“I do, love him.” Siasia beamed, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she finally embraced the truth of her heart. The words felt like a sweet melody, resonating deep within her soul, and the euphoria surged through her like a tidal wave. Gravitational pull be damned—she was soaring, weightless in the bliss of love, where every heartbeat echoed with the promise of joy and belonging.

She glanced in the back seat at Noodle, who sat quietly, her eyes reflecting the sorrow that hung heavy in the air. Siasia felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this place was a painful reminder of their shared past—of laughter and late-night talks, of dreams woven together in the safety of their little world. Now, it felt like a ghost town, haunted by memories that were both beautiful and tragic.

“Why we here?” Noodle inquired with her nose scrunched at the rubble of her once home.

“I need to get the mail, Noodle. Come on,” she said, shutting the car off.

They eased out of the car. The remnants of clothes and the cheaply made mobile home were scattered across the lot with only the mailbox still standing. The air was thick with the scent of charred wood and ash, a lingering reminder of the fire that had taken everything from them almost a month ago. Even the vibrant summer flowers that had once lined the pathways seemed dulled by the tragedy, their colors muted against the backdrop of the blackened remains of the trailer.

As they approached the mailbox, Siasia's heart raced. She opened it slowly, half-expecting it to be empty, but a few stray letters laid inside, untouched by the flames. She handed them to Noodle, who took them with trembling hands, her expression a mix of confusion and grief. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words and the weight of their shared loss.

Just as they turned to leave, the sound of sirens pierced the stillness and a police car pulled up, its lights flashing ominously. Siasia's stomach dropped as she recognized the figure stepping out—Noodle’s biological mother, her expression unreadable. The moment felt surreal, as if time had slowed; Siasia's heart raced with a mix of fear and anger.

"Noodle!" Siasia called out, panic rising in her chest as the officer approached them. Noodle's eyes widened in confusion and fear, her body tense as she clutched the letters tightly.

Before Siasia could reach out, the officer gently but firmly explained the situation, and Noodle's mother stepped forward, her face a mask of regret and desperation. The words blurred together as Siasia felt her heart shatter.

When Siasia and Noodle pulled up, one of the neighbors took it upon themselves to dial the number one of the officers left a few days prior.

Noodle's gaze shifted between Siasia and her mother, tears spilling down her cheeks as she took a step back, her small frame trembling. The officer placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but all Siasia could do was watch helplessly as the distance between them grew.

“Jacory Hunter,” the officer called out Noodle’s biological name. Hearing him say it pierced Siasia’s ears, causing them to ring. The name was beautiful but she was her Noodle. She’d given her the name when she was only ten and that was the first thing that came to mind when she say the pale baby whose body curled up like a Noodle.

“SiSi,” Noodle cried, reaching out for her sister.

“It’s going to be okay. You’ll come home with me,” Jackie, Noodle’s biological mother, said.

Siasia had never seen the woman in person but from first glance, she knew Jacory belonged to her. Not her Noodle, though. Noodle was hers. Still reaching out for her sister, Noodle cried and screamed as another officer approached Siasia.

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