Page 221 of Relentles
Leaning her head against the toilet, Harley willed her stomach to settle. For the past week, bouts of nausea waylaid her. She wanted to pretend that a random illness hit her, but deep down she knew she might be pregnant.
The idea sent tears to her eyes and another bout of nausea rushing through her. She lifted on her knees and hung her head over the open toilet, dry heaving. At this point, she’d thrown up so much, her stomach was empty.
Sniffling, she reared back on her haunches and drew in a shuddering breath, unable to stop the sob that escaped.
“Harley?” Mommie called.
Before Harley responded, the door opened and Mommie stepped into the bathroom. When she took in the scene, she rushed over, dropped to her jean-clad knees and drew Harley into her arms.
“Sweet girl,” she whispered, concern lacing her voice. She kissed the top of Harley’s head.
Harley burst into tears. “Mommie,” she whimpered, lost and sick and regretful.
“Do you have something to tell me?”
She had a lot to tell her mother. She just didn’t know where to begin. She sniffled. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Out.”
A sob escaped Harley. She didn’t know how to express her remorse and shame, and she definitely didn’t know how to confess.
“Are you carrying CJ’s baby?”
At the question, Harley clung to her mother, wailing in misery. Somehow, she managed to shake her head.
Mommie remained quiet for a moment, then asked, “Nardo’s?”
Screaming at the unfairness of it all, Harley shrugged. “I don’t know, Mommie! I might be. I…a…I…” She could barely breathe for sobbing so hard. “It was a mistake,” she cried wildly. “I shouldn’t have done it. I wanted to make CJ jealous, but he wouldn’t even care! He’s still fixated onMolly.” She spat the name; it was anathema to her. “Nardo made me feel so special. He has breakouts and he’s like us.” No, Mommie wasn’t like them. She didn’t need braids or hair grease. “Me,” she added, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.
Leaning back, Mommie took her face between her soft hands and frowned. “What does that mean, sweet girl?”
“My hair is different. I have acne. I-I…if you stayed out of the sun, you’d look as white asMolly.”
“Do you think CJ was paying attention to Molly because of your racial composition?”
Harley scowled. “You make me sound like a music score!”
“Baby…Harley—”
“You havegreeneyes, Mommie! If you don’t wash your hair, it gets sticky and greasy. If I wash mine too much, it dries out. I have to wearbraidsor flat iron my hair to get your text—”
“Stop right there,” Mommie said severely, glaring at Harley with so much disapproval it made more tears pool in her eyes and her chin wobble. “Is CJ putting this in your head?”
“No! Of course not. He swears…swore…it didn’t matter to him.”
“But you don’t believe him?”
“How can I? He’s perfect.You’reperfect.”
“Oh, baby, baby, baby.” She shook her head. “Life is difficult, Harley.Wecomplicate matters so much. When I was your age and younger, I hated going to my cousins for sleepovers. I…” She shrugged. “I didn’t fit in, even less so because I was called White Girl. It was belittling, and for a long time I struggled with my identity.”
Forgetting her own despair, Harley frowned. “Lolly allowed—”
“Uh-uh. Are you mad?” She laughed. “Roxanne Doucette Harrington would’ve ended up in jail. I had to fight through this and I did it bylisteningto my parents. They always made me feel as if I had a place in the world. One day, when I was about fifteen, Daddy had to drop me off at Great Aunt Sherika’s house. I kept hemming and hawing, and he finally got the reason why out of me. He swore he wouldn’t tell Momma, and he didn’t. What hediddo was have a closed-door meeting with Momma’s two sisters, her brother, her aunt, and her uncle. He told me that I should never allow anyone to take away my right to belong wherever I chose. He said live and let live until it was time tokick ass. So, I did. I didn’t think my aunts and uncles would pay attention to his summons, but they dropped everything and came running.”
Harley giggled. “Shocking.”
“I didn’t know he was…you know…who he was. They apparently did. The six of them were still in a meeting in Aunt Sherika’s dining room, when one of my cousins or one of their friends started with their bullshit.” Mommie grinned. “I beat some ass that evening, sweet girl. Daddy knew, too. Later, he told me he heard the commotion, peeped out from time-to-time to make sure I had it handled, and kept my aunts and uncles in there until it was done.”
