Can't Stop the Shine (16 page)

Mari sat in the chair beside her sister and reached over to smooth her hair back.

“Do you want me to stay back here with you? I can. No problem.”

Kalia looked at Mari, thinking how great it was to have a sister who was there for her, but she really wanted to be alone.

“No, Mari,” she squeaked. “Go ahead. Go on back out there. I'll be fine. The show's almost over anyway.” She looked back in the mirror. “Yep, it's almost over, then we can go home, and I can forget I ever entered this mess.”

“What if you make the finals though?”

“You gotta be kidding me,” said Kalia, turning to face her sister. “There is no way in hell I'm going to be chosen as one of the final eight.”

“K, it was your physical performance that was just okay. Your vocals were on. You shut it down vocally.”

“Well, you need the whole package to win.”

“I guess, but there were lots of other contestants who couldn't sing as well as you even if they had great stage presence. Plus, it's easier to teach a person stage presence than it is how to sing,” said Mari, standing.

“I guess.”

“Look, don't worry about it. You're gonna make it to the finals, and we're gonna use all the time between now and the big show in March to get you some help with your presentation.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Kalia, eyeing her sister. “It will be a miracle if I happen to make it to the finals.”

“Quit it. Just quit it,” she demanded. “You're gonna make the finals, so put that makeup back on and get ready to go out there so we can clap for you. G'on brush your shoulders off, K. Okay?”

Kalia nodded.

“Naw, I wanna see it. Brush your shoulders off.”

Kalia wiped her hand across her shoulder.

“Good,” said Mari, getting up and starting toward the exit. “And promise me you're going to put that makeup back on.”

Kalia almost smiled at her sister. “So who's bossy now?” she said.

“I knew if I hung around you long enough I'd pick up some of your bad habits,” said Mari.

Kalia did smile this time. Mari grinned back and left the dressing room.

Forty-five minutes later, Kalia felt her armpits moisten as she listened to the host call the name of the sixth contestant who'd made the finals. There were only two spots left. She was in the wings with fourteen other contestants who were in varying states of emotional distress. She crumpled the red crushed velvet curtain in one hand behind her back. Somehow squishing something made her feel slightly better.

“The seventh contestant who will perform in the Who's Got That Fire? final iiisss…Miss Asha Wright,” announced the host.

Cool as a cucumber, Asha floated on stage and stood next to the sixth contestant who Kalia thought was grinning so wide she could have swallowed her ears. This was it, she thought, squeezing the curtain with the other hand. She looked at the other contestants around her. Some were pacing, others were crying and holding hands. Kalia realized at that moment that she wanted to become a finalist more than anything else in the world.

“And the last contestant who will perform in the Who's Got That Fire? final iiisss…Miss Kalia Jefferson.”

Kalia didn't move. She stood in the wings, clutching the curtain. A stagehand ripped her hands from the curtain and shoved her onto the stage. Nearly stumbling, she recovered just in time to miss bumping Asha, who looked over at her like she was a minor annoyance. This time Kalia's smile was real, and it was brighter than all the stage lights in the theater.

After the show, Mari insisted on everybody going to Houston's for a celebratory dinner. Everybody was game, except Malcolm, who told Kalia he'd promised to hook back up with his record label connection after he'd dipped out of the studio earlier to see her performance. Kalia was in such a good mood about winning that it really didn't hit her until she and Mari were in her room around one in the morning how angry she was with Malcolm.

“How could he just squeeze me in like that? This was like the most important night of my life,” said Kalia, lying across her bed.

“I know, right?” agreed Mari. “Men can be so stupid.”

“They sure can.”

“I mean they're either lying or selfish or cheating or something.”

“Yep, yep,” said Kalia, getting up. “I'm going downstairs to get something to drink.”

Mari followed her, continuing her tirade.

“What gives them the right to think that they can treat us any old way?”

“Most of them are just conceited for no good reason. I mean Malcolm really isn't all that,” said Kalia, staring into the refrigerator. She stuck her head all the way in. “I have no idea what I want.”

“Neither is Qwon,” said Mari, staring in the refrigerator, too.

“You know what I think,” she said, turning to Kalia.

“What?”

“I think we should have a beer.”

Kalia looked at Mari.

“Look, you had a long, hard exciting day. You're almost grown, and everybody else in the world drinks. One beer isn't going to hurt us,” said Mari. “It'll probably make us feel a whole lot better. Plus, Ma and Daddy are knocked out. We could drink a whole six-pack and Daddy would never know. We'll just replace what we drink. He's got a ton out in the pantry.”

“I am not drinking a six pack of beer, Mari,” said Kalia sternly.

“Oh, but you'll drink at least one, huh?” asked Mari, leaning over and grabbing a cold one from inside the refrigerator door. “Shoot. We gotta celebrate you getting into the finals, too.”

That last excuse did it for Kalia. “Yeah, I guess one is cool. I probably need one to calm my nerves,” she said, getting herself a beer, too. “I'm all hyped up over getting into the finals. Can you believe I made it in?”

“Of course I can—I predicted it, remember?” said Mari, popping open her beer and then Kalia's. They stood in the middle of the kitchen, toasted to her success and took sips.

“Not bad,” said Mari, smacking her lips.

“Stop acting like you've had a beer before.” Kalia smirked.

“I have.”

“Where? No, when?” asked Kalia, taking another swallow.

“Don't you worry about it.”

“I won't.”

“So what's up with this Malcolm guy? Do you really like him or what?” Mari asked, leaning against the counter.

“I did until he turned into a selfish asshole tonight.”

“Well, that's dudes for ya. If you want to be with a man, then you've got to get used to the crap that comes with them.”

“How do you know?” asked Kalia.

“I just know,” said Mari, gulping down her beer.

“Well, I liked Malcolm at first. He was mature, cool and creative. I mean his knowledge of music is incredible, but now, I just don't know.”

“It must be cool dating a college man, though.”

“I guess,” said Kalia, finishing her beer. “Right now I just wish he would pay me some more attention.”

“I'm almost finished with this one,” said Mari, turning up her can. “Let's split another one.”

“Okay, and that's it,” Kalia said, reaching into the refrigerator and popping open another beer.

By the time Kalia had finished telling Mari all of the things that had attracted her to Malcolm, they'd downed that beer and opened another. Mari telling Kalia about her hurt feelings over Qwon had them finishing a fourth beer, so they decided to knock their father's six-pack out with one more apiece.

“Yeah, men are just dogs,” said Mari, trying to make a jump shot in the wastebasket with one of her cans. She wobbled a bit.

“But why?” asked Kalia, slumping over on the kitchen table. “Why do they have to be such animals? Why can't they act like human beings?”

“You answered your own question, silly,” slurred Mari, shaking Kalia by the shoulders.

“I'm no sillier than you, and you're drunk.”

“Not by myself,” said Mari. “I bet you can't stand up and walk a straight line.”

“I can so,” said Kalia, rising quickly and knocking two cans to the floor. They clashed loudly against each other.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Mari giggled, pushing her index finger to her lips.

Kalia flopped to her hands and knees and tried to reach the cans under the table.

“You look like the dog now,” said Mari, continuing to giggle.

“Shut up and help me get these damn cans.”

“Why should I? You dropped them,” sang Mari, exaggerating a tiptoe dance across the kitchen.

Kalia had both the cans and was getting up when she bumped her head underneath the table, knocking the whole thing over and causing such a commotion that Mari ran into the dining room.

“Woo-wee,” she said, peeping around the corner. “You are gonna get it. I know Daddy heard that.”

“You're drinking, too,” said Kalia, sprawled out on the floor. She wanted to get up, but her head was banging and the room was spinning.

By the time their father appeared in the kitchen, Kalia had dragged herself back into a chair, and Mari was still peeping in from the dining room.

“Mari, get in here,” he said. “I can't believe you all are drinking my beer. Get upstairs to bed. I'll deal with you tomorrow.”

Kalia stood and swayed toward the steps. Mari kept up her exaggerated tiptoeing until her father's stern face made her walk upright.

The next thing Kalia knew, the sun was shining brightly on her face and someone was talking loudly. She groaned and turned over, covering her head with the sheets.

“Get up, girl,” said Mari, flopping onto her sister's bed. “I'm trying to see what my punishment is going to be before I make any plans for the day.”

“Mmmmmmh,” said Kalia. “Go away.”

“Daddy said he wanted to see us downstairs right now, so I'll just tell him you said to go away.”

“Mmmmmmh,” said Kalia, rolling over. “Close those curtains.”

“Nope,” said Mari, walking out of the room.

Kalia dragged herself to the bathroom, wondering how Mari could be so alert when they'd both had the same amount of beer. Face washed and teeth brushed, she appeared in the kitchen to find Mari sitting across from her parents. Her mother was stirring a cup of tea, and her father had his arms folded, waiting. Nobody was speaking. She pulled up a chair and assumed the about-to-receive-a-lecture position she hadn't sat in in months.

“So?” said Ronald, looking from one to the other.

Mari looked out the window. Kalia fidgeted with her sleeve. No one said anything.

“If someone doesn't speak up and tell me why a sixteen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old think they can drink alcohol in my house, then you're both going to be on punishment so long, I'll be in a nursing home when you get off.”

Sensing their father was serious, Mari and Kalia started talking nonsensically at once.

“See, Daddy, I'd had a long day, and we just wanted to cool out and celebrate a bit. We were at home, and it wasn't like we were drinking and driving or anything,” said Kalia.

“Yeah, we were safe and sound, drinking at home. Nothing could happen to us here,” echoed Mari.

Elaine got up and slammed her mug in the sink. The sisters jumped.

“Do you think that makes it better? You think it's okay for you to drink because you were doing it at home?” growled their mother. She walked over to Kalia, bent over and put her nose a hair's length away from her daughter's.

“You're the big sister. You're supposed to set an example for Mari.” Kalia could smell the tea on her mother's breath. “Who's idea was this anyway?” asked Elaine, shifting her attention to Mari.

“I…well…see…It was my suggestion…but,” said Mari, her eyes growing big as her father stood and moved closer to her.

“You girls aren't old enough to drink—that's it,” said Ronald, staring down at Mari. “I don't care whose idea it was. If I catch either of you ever drinking again—ever—you will be grounded until I die.”

“You aren't to leave this house for anything but school for two weeks,” said Elaine, “and don't think you're going to be getting on the phone and chatting your friends up. There's no phone, no television, no anything that has to be plugged in—that includes the Internet, unless it's homework related. And believe me, I'm gonna be on you.”

Kalia thought about practicing for the Fire final. “But, Ma, what about the Fire contest? We might have practice or meetings or something.”

Her father turned to her. “Well, I guess you should have thought about that before you turned into Boozing Betty.”

Mari had been stewing in her seat. She thought about the Christmas parties she'd surely miss and blew up. “Daddy, you come home every day and have three beers before you even take your coat off. How are a couple going to hurt us one time?” Mari stood.

Ronald froze for a second and started toward his younger daughter. Elaine blocked his charge.
Thank God,
Mari thought.

“Girl, don't you ever question me in my house again,” said Ronald over Elaine's head. “When you start paying the bills here, then you can have some say. I don't know who you think you are.”

Ronald walked out of the kitchen. Elaine looked after him.

“You're lucky I didn't let him knock you into next week,” she said to Mari. “You know what? I want this house to be as clean as the day we moved in.”

Kalia and Mari stood still.

“Didn't you hear what I said?” Elaine shouted. “You're not going to just sit in your room and read and do homework. These two weeks are going to be productive. You're cleaning this house from top to bottom. Get to it.”

Shaking her head and throwing them both an exasperated look, she walked up the back stairs.

“You and your bright ideas,” said Kalia, turning to her sister.

“I didn't have to twist your arm.”

“Well, now we can't do anything.”

“You don't do anything, anyway,” said Mari, pushing the chairs underneath the kitchen table.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Both of you shut up,” said Elaine from upstairs. “And get to cleaning. Don't make me have to come back down there.”

Kalia and Mari looked at each other and began two weeks of the most intense cleaning they'd ever done.

 

About a week later, Kalia had three finals in one day, including one where she had to play a piece by Mozart, and the chorale had a Christmas performance at the end of the week. She was stressed and really needed to relax. Luckily her parents had let up enough to allow her to practice for at least an hour after school. She was on her way to a practice room when she spotted a familiar-looking guy in the hallway. As she approached him, it became clear that it was Malcolm. She stopped for a second, trying to decide what to do. They hadn't spoken or seen each other since the night of the Fire preliminary show.

Malcolm started walking toward her. She just stood in the middle of the hallway, watching his features get clearer the closer he came. She loved his confident, laid-back stride. By the time he was close enough for her to see the words on his T-shirt, If It Ain't Real, It Ain't Right, she'd sworn to herself five times that she wasn't going to let him apologize his way back into her good graces—and she certainly wasn't going to hug him, even though he looked good enough to eat.

To her surprise, Malcolm didn't say anything. He walked straight up to her, grabbed her by the waist, pulled her to him and hugged her so tightly, she thought she was going to faint, then he took her hand and escorted her to her favorite practice room. He led her to the piano, sat her down and walked over to the corner, sitting down in a chair. Kalia didn't really know what to do. She put her hands on the keys, but nothing happened.

Malcolm got up and kissed her once, very softly on the lips. He walked back over and sat down in the corner. Kalia started slowly playing a tune she'd never played before—something she hadn't heard before. New lyrics of love, patience, forgiveness and understanding spilled out of her mouth. Malcolm came over to the piano, whipped out a notebook and started writing down the lyrics.

“You've got something here, baby,” he said. “That's real emotion there. Go with it.” Kalia looked up at Malcolm and felt a surge of creativity. They spent nearly an hour writing what ended up being, “Just Us.” She'd never really written a song before. She'd flirted with lyrics and had ideas about songs, but she'd never put them down on paper.