Page 212 of Invisible Bars
“All I’m saying is, why would you want to live like this… by choice? When you don’t have to. I’ll pay for the move. I’ll buy you a new place. Somewhere with gates… amenities… privacy. At least a neighborhood where people aren’t barbecuing on the front lawn.”
She snorted. “And what’s wrong with that? I remember when you used to volunteer to help with the sides.”
“That wasdecadesago, Mother,” I muttered, smoothing out my top like it had collected dust just from sitting on her couch. “Times have changed.”
She raised a brow. “You meanyouchanged. Ain’t nothing wrong with barbecuing on the lawn… that’s community.”
I sighed, crossing my legs tighter, careful not to touch the sticky remnants left on the end table from her last crafting project.
“Some of us just want better, Mother. We aspire for more than just hot dogs and potato salad.”
“And some of us alreadyhavewhat we need,” she shot back. “You keep trying to upgrade me like I’m a phone on a contract. I’m not. I’m your mama, and I won't be sold for a newer model.”
Her words snapped through the air—clean, cutting, and impossible to argue with.
The room fell into stillness and was interrupted by profusive knocks on the door.
I groaned. “Please don’t let that be somebody else who remembers me from twenty years ago.”
Mother shook her head, her earlier irritation vanishing as she beamed at the door.
“Well, if it isn’t Renee! My favorite headache,” she declared, a sparkle of joy lighting up her eyes.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, cringing inwardly.
“I should’ve known,” I grumbled under my breath, bracing myself for yet another encounter that would drag me back into the memories I’d left behind.
My sister, Renee, strutted inside with all the confidence of someone who believed her name was etched on the deed to the house, claiming ownership not just of the property but the very ground beneath it. She swung a large purse—a gaudy thing that I was certain was off-brand— as if it contained not just essentials but also hidden snacks, juicy secrets, and overdue bills waiting for attention. She was all hips and all hoops. And that walk?It practically shouted, “Talk about me if you want, but just make sure you spell my name right.” I already sensed our usual verbal sparring was on the horizon, a ritual that never seemed to fail.
“Happy birthday, Ma!” Renee exclaimed, her voice echoing in the air as she planted a loud kiss on our mother’s cheek, the kind that left a trace of her lipstick behind.
With a dramatic roll of her eyes and a loud suck of her teeth, Renee turned her attention to me. The heifer didn’t even bother to take a seat before she fired her first shot.
“Oh. Well, hello,sister. Or do you prefer the title…Madame CEO? You didn’tmelt coming back to your old neck of the woods, did you? Did your heels need a passport to step on the porch this time?”
“Renee,” I replied dryly, barely glancing her way as I tried to maintain my composure.
“I saw your spaceship parked out front,” she continued, plopping herself into the nearest chair with an exaggerated flair. “You always have to announce your arrival like the Queen of Manhattan just touched down. Can’t you just blend in for once?”
I finally faced her, lifting an unimpressed brow. “Why must you do this every time we see each other?”
“Why mustyoualways show up over here flashing your newest purse, your latest car, and that ‘I’m-better-than-y’all’ energy? Then the second you leave, you act like we’re stray dogs you tossed a leftover biscuit at!”
I didn’t answer.
Renee huffed. “Of course you have nothing to say in response to that—‘cause you know it’s the truth! So what did myrichlittle sister get the woman whodoesn’tneed anything?”
I happily gestured toward the pile of designer boxes.
“That would be me. I got her everything she won’t get herself…top-shelfeverything,” I bragged.
Renee sniggered. “Mm-hmm. Except, you cannevergive her the one thing she actually wants.”
“Oh, and what’s that? A new casserole dish? Do you need one, Mother?”
“No, she doesn’t need a damn casserole dish!” Renee fired back. “What she needs fromyouis time, conversation, and presence! But I guess those ain’t got brand names on 'em, huh?”
I stood up, arms crossed tight over my chest and went back toGigi from the Gardens—just for a second.
