Page 139 of Lily In The Valley
“Vegas. In June, so everybody clear your calendars!” Xavier shouted above the music.
“Why Vegas?” Kelly asked.
“I don’t want to go too far from Zaria,” Vanessa replied. “Anywhere out of the country and I swear I’ll cry every day.”
The tablet of songs ended up in my hands. I passed it to Kelly. “Pick a song for us.”
She scrolled with a wicked smile. “You trust me?”
“Always.”
She queued up the song and pulled us to the front of the room. A heartbeat of quiet filled the room, then the early-2000s strings followed by a drum loop cut through like oversized jerseys and baggy jeans. The room erupted as Lil Mo’s backup vocals came through. It took my brain a second to catch up. Then the hook cue flashed on the screen, and I started laughing because of course she picked this song.
Kelly passed me a mic, mouthing, “Surprise.”
“Oh, this is perfect for them,” Lynn cooed from the couch.
The track rolled, and I fell into the pocket like muscle memory. I lowered my voice to take on Ja Rule’s distinct gravelly rasp and looked straight at Kelly. I rapped the promises of showing up and holding it down, no matter what the world brought. She answered me back through Lil Mo and Vita’s words. Pretty soon, our duet turned to a church choir, our friends singing from their seats.
“Hey, this song is for me and my man,” she half-shouted, half-laughed back at them. They ignored her and continued singing. At the end, I kissed her shoulder. As we walked back to our spot on the couch, my grin hurt my face. Maverick and Xavier took a turn as Kelly and I faded to our own bubble.
She kissed me again. “You did good.”
“You too,” I agreed, looking at her like a thief looked at a prized jewel.
She brushed her thumb over my lower lip. “My man,” she said softly.
“My woman,” I answered. I kissed her temple because that was all I could do without making a scene. She moved to sit on my lap and leaned against my chest as she watched Lynn and Nessa sing another song. I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my chin in the warm space between her neck and shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was balancing on something that might crack. Vanessa and Zaycontinued to enjoy their night off from being parents. Lynn and Nyah fed into Maverick’s antics while Antonio stayed rigid.
Kelly turned around and kissed me again. Sweet, steady, sure. I didn’t need to see the smiling faces of our friends to know we were already building forever.
Chapter 42
Kelly
My fatherand I stood side by side. We’d just finished leaving flowers on the headstone that still looked too new to me, even after all these months. The letters of my mother’s name cut cleanly into the granite, as if they were afraid to bruise the stone. Karter trotted the paths between the plots like he understood he needed to be quiet.
“I’m happy you came.” My father wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll give you a second.” He kissed my temple, then walked away with Karter following behind him.
I nodded. It was my first time at my mother’s gravesite since the funeral. It still didn’t feel real, standing here with her beneath us.
“Hi Mommy,” I said, my voice fighting its way around the knot in my throat. “I know it’s been a while, but I finally made it. I’m sorry it took me so long. I probably should’ve come a lot sooner, but I couldn’t. Even still, I’ve been carrying some words around in my mouth, waiting for the jagged edges to turn smooth so I could lay them down. They’re ready now.”
“There are days I am mad at you for leaving. For dying. For all the sentences we didn’t get to finish and the hugs that wentunfinished. I didn’t know what to do with that anger except hold it like a fever and not give it to anyone else. I thought I could continue living with this fury in my heart, but I couldn’t. I fought and fought, but I got tired. And in that tiredness, a window opened to let forgiveness in.”
“I grew up thinking softness was danger. I thought softness meant I wouldn’t be able to do the hard thing, that it would make me less sharp. But I’m learning a different medicine. The softer I am at home, the more I allow myself to be held, the braver I am, the more capacity I have to hold someone else’s love. I think you were trying to teach me that in your own way. I hear you now.”
“I miss you in the tiny ways most. Your bossy voice when I’m doing ‘too much.’ The way you’d hum instead of giving me an answer to a problem only I could solve. I miss your hands. The way they knew how to make magic in the kitchen to heal, hurt, and honor hope—the soothing way your fingers knew where to rub to calm my racing mind. When I’m at the hospital and I feel my jaw lock and my chest go tight because I don’t have an answer for a parent worried about their child, I press my fingers to the nape of my neck in the same way you would, pretending it’s your hand. It helps.”
“I know you can’t come back, not physically, but I wanted you to know I found the parts of you you left on purpose. The parts that knew how to look at a mess and find joy in the cleanup. I will carry those forward, not as weight, but roots. You are with me. In my hands, in my mouth, when I say thank you. In my chest, when I breathe, it hurts. In my laugh when it escapes. In the little girl who wanted, and the woman who knows what to do with wanting now. I understand. I miss you. I love you.”
I crouched down and hugged my knees to my chest. A mourning dove flew and perched atop my mother’s headstone. I dried the last falling tears as my father and Karter walked backup. He reached out his hand to grab me and pull me up, tucking me under his arm.
“Did you say all you needed to say?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I’m proud of you.”
