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Authors: Brenda Barrett

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BOOK: Going Solo (New Song)
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Her mother’s argument with Blue had escalated into a shouting match. She could hear Blue raising a storm, using some choice Jamaican cuss words, as usual defending himself from the indefensible. At least Alice knew where he was and that he would be occupied with the quarrel for a while and would not come around to where she was bathing and try to get a glimpse of her through the makeshift zinc shower stall.

She wondered why she had this lot in life. She was always skipping one land mine after another. At church, there was Pastor Keen and at home, there was Blue. At least the guys in the community knew that she was Carson's girl and did not bother her or whistled at her when she passed anymore.

Her landmines were closest where she was supposed to feel safe. She wished she could feel happier about that stupid job but the fact that she was going to be working closely with Pastor Keen was not comforting. She tried to look at the bright side like her mother but she was coming up with trumps—nothing, nada. Even with the prospect of earning some money, she felt a foreboding so pressing that she was almost shaking with it.

Chapter Eleven

 

Alice spent the Sabbath reading her Bible and listening to sermons. She had no intention of going to any church. The Jamaican church community was quite small. Word would get around and tongues would start wagging.

Remember that girl, Alice? She got pregnant at seventeen and had to marry her boyfriend, Carson Bell. Remember Carson? He's the really handsome lead singer for the New Song Band. Remember how she almost committed suicide and they had to admit her to Ward 21 at the Cornwall Regional Hospital? That's Alice. Oh and don't forget she abandoned her daughter, little Mia, for ten whole years. What kind of a mother is she?

Alice sighed. She realized that she was actually feeling distressed over imaginary conversations. She bathed and stood in the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her and brushed out her hair. She moved closer to the mirror and looked at herself. She was glowing. Her skin was smooth and had a dewy look. Her eyes had a little sparkle in them, and she looked surprisingly happy even though she was feeling apprehensive and fearful.

Of course, Carson was the reason she was glowing. He was the only one who always managed to bring her back from the brink. He was her healer. She pulled on a green shirt-dress and grabbed her handbag. She was ready to meet Mia. She had concluded that she had to, at least, try to get to know her, maybe not as a mother—she had forfeited all rights to that—but as a friend. That should not be too hard.

She was almost at the entrance to the community where Carson lived. She had not called but she was hoping that he would be home and not at church. She knew that back in the day, a big part of fellowship happened in the nights when church was over and persons would stand around in groups talking with each other. Some persons would even start some cooking in the church kitchen and various games would start up, usually dominoes. Some person's did not leave the Cedar Hill Church grounds until after midnight. To be honest, she missed that sort of camaraderie. It was a good way to really get to know fellow church members, when everyone's hair was down, so to speak.

She suddenly felt lonely and had a longing for the old church days. It crept upon her: the memories of church socials with the young people, playing ring games, participating in bun eating contests, and having such a good time that non-church goers would be envious.

She also remembered their Pathfinder Club, their version of boy scouts and girl guides. They would frequently go stargazing and hiking in the Cornwall Mountains, do wilderness survival training in the Trelawny Hills, and have beach days most Sundays. Those days were fun and she was almost surprised that she remembered. She hoped Mia had something like that too; it should add some richness to her childhood memories, something to plug the ten years her mother left empty.

A toot of a car horn had her looking in the rearview mirror. It was Carson. He was in a tinted SUV. He rolled down the windows and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He looked suave and urbane in his suit. She drank him in. He must have been shocked to see her there. She waved at him and started her car, following his into his driveway. He got out of the vehicle and came to her side of the car.

"Hey." he looked at her searchingly. "You didn't call."

"I know. I just decided that today is the day I would try to get to know Mia as a friend."

Carson frowned at her. "Alice, remember if you are going to be in her life any at all, it has to be for the long haul."

Alice nodded. Carson was looking at her so seriously she felt as if she were being tried for a crime. He stood at the door and searched her face for so long that she felt like squirming. He finally moved away. There was no mistaking that if she hurt Mia, she would feel the wrath of Carson. She got the message loud and clear without him saying a word. She felt a little twinge of jealousy. She wished she had had a father like Carson when she was growing up.

When the front passenger-side car door opened, she saw a pair of long legs outfitted in the cutest red shoes accented with little bows. A slim little girl in a red polka dot dress emerged. She had a matching handbag in her hand. She slammed the car door and looked towards the car. For the first time, Alice saw her face to face: her daughter, the child she did not want.

For a moment, Mia stood beside Carson but eventually she started to walk slowly toward Alice. Alice tried to take in as much of her features as the half-light would allow. She was an exceptionally pretty child: triangular face, a little bow lip, big solemn hazel eyes. Her thick, curly hair was wound around her head like a crown—that must have been Carson's doing. When Alice was younger, he liked it when her hair was in that style.

Mia stopped a few feet from her and held out her hand. Alice held out hers too and they shook hands with more cordiality than reserve. Mia’s hand felt thin and fragile.

"I am Alice," she said to Mia. Her voice was hoarse.

Mia nodded. Her big eyes were eating her up like she expected her to disappear and Alice felt a tinge of warmth toward her. She was a lovely child.

"Let's go inside," Carson said, intruding on their frozen tableau.

Mia spun around and skipped along to the front door, taking out her keys from her handbag and opening the door.

"Would you like me to show you around?" she asked shyly.

Alice swallowed. "Sure."

"This is the living room," Mia said, pointing to the place Alice had barely taken in before Carson had led her upstairs two days ago. "Daddy and Uncle Ian did the tiling for the whole house, with my help of course." Mia said proudly.

Alice nodded. "It looks professionally done."

"Ian is the best contractor around these parts." Carson said. "Between us we did most of the work."

Mia led her into the kitchen. "I chose the finishes for everywhere. Daddy said I could have cart branch."

"Carte blanche." Carson said from the doorway. He had silently followed them.

Alice spun around and looked at him. She could scarcely believe that she was here in his house getting a tour from Mia. She looked around the large, professionally done kitchen with the large glass windows where the breakfast nook was and silently doubted that Mia had chosen all the finishes.

"Yes, she did." Carson said, as if reading her mind. "Muffin has an eye for color and detail that amazed us all when we were choosing finishes for the house. She was just eight at the time."

"I looked in a lot of Aunt Melody's interior decorating magazines," Mia said brightly. She was looking more relaxed as her father joined the conversation.

"Aunty Ruby said that when they finish their house she wants me as her interior decorator."

"She'll have to pay you." Carson mocked with a serious expression.

Mia giggled. "Do you want to see upstairs?" Mia enquired. She gestured with her hand and Alice stared at her for the longest while. She then nodded.

She realized that Mia was in her element. She carried her from room to room and after every sentence was "Daddy said...Daddy this...Daddy that". Obviously, she loved her father and he was the center of her world.

Alice realized that subtly Mia was telling her that they were a team. Maybe the child was a little psychologist because she was also detecting an exclusionary tone from her:
We don't want you to come and mess it up
was the message, and Alice heard it loud and clear.

When they reached Mia's room, which was done in a jungle theme, she was convinced that Mia had not suffered one bit from her absence.

She was a confident child who had a father who listened to her and gave her the tools to be extraordinary. Maybe having a troubled mother would have messed her up. Alice remembered the days when Mia was little and she would hear her crying but did nothing to help. Delores was the one who had to come home and feed and change the baby or Carson would come home at lunchtime just to check on them and feed Mia and give her some attention. Those were some dark days for her.

"Would you like some supper?" Carson asked Alice after Mia had exhausted all the rooms of the house.

"Sure." Alice said, even though she was suffering from a mass of mixed feelings and a strange sensation of inadequacy. She did not know if she could force down any food.

"What's on the menu tonight, Mia?" Carson asked as they headed back to the kitchen.

"I was thinking pizza" Mia said, "but I am going to change first." She looked at Alice uncertainly; as if she did not want her out of her sight.

"I'll be downstairs waiting." Alice felt compelled to say and then she saw Mia’s little shoulders relax.

Alice followed Carson to the kitchen. He had taken off his jacket upstairs.  Now he was rolling up his sleeves.

"I usually do the base," he said to Alice taking out the flour, "and then Mia does the rest. Saturday night is her night to do her culinary thing."

"She seems so grown up," Alice said. "I don't know what I was expecting."

"She is twelve. You remember when you were twelve? You were the same way—bright, affectionate, inquisitive. I am actually dreading her teenage years. I find myself worrying that I'll be a monster in my girl's eyes when I have to enforce rules and stuff."

Alice shook her head, "I doubt you'll have that kind of problem. Usually little girls, who have good relationships with their fathers, make better decisions in their teenage years or at least that's what I heard. I think I envy what the two of you have."

"It's never too late to establish some kind of link though," Carson said to Alice. "Mia has a great support system. She has more people looking out for her than you and I ever had but nobody can replace a mother." He got the ingredients for the pizza base and kneaded the dough.

"Or the thought of what a mother should be," Alice said. "Children have these fantasies about what they hope their mothers should be like but not all of us are so fortunate to have a good mother."

Mia raced downstairs just in time to help her dad roll out the flour then she busied herself getting the toppings.

Carson could not respond to Alice's last statement even though he wanted to.

Alice watched as they worked in tandem.

"Do you like pineapples?" Mia asked Alice shyly. She had been going from confident to shy in her reactions to her and Alice completely understood.

She nodded. "Sure. I like pineapples."

"I do too," Mia said, as if it was a huge deal that she had something in common with her.

"Today, I almost had a fight with Brad," Mia said to her father.

"Why?" Carson asked. He was leaning on the counter and watching Alice as she stared at Mia as if she was a strange and new life form. He swung his attention to his daughter.

"Because he keeps on pinching me in class and after church. He does it and runs away. I almost went after him today. I was this close!" Mia said pinching her fingers together, "but Sister Kirk stopped me." She put the pizza in the oven.

"She's still alive?" Alice asked, laughing. "That old bird has been dog bitten, almost drowned, was lost in the mountains at a retreat, and her house caught a fire when she was sleeping."

"So many things?" Mia laughed. "I only knew about the car accident. She was the only one who walked out with only a scratch." She turned around and looked at Alice.

"Today, when I was about to pinch Brad, she stopped me and said 'your dad had a hot temper, you know, and I had to reign him in. Don't think I can’t do the same for you, young lady!' She is walking with a stick now and she threatened me with it."

Alice swallowed hard.

Carson looked at Alice's stricken expression and coughed. "So what did you say?"

Mia grinned. "I said, 'I am so sorry Sister Kirk. Apparently the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Sister Kirk actually looked pleased with that old saying and grunted at me."

Alice jumped up. "May I use your bathroom?"

"You can use mine," Carson said quickly. "Let me remind you where it is."

He walked with Alice to the foot of the stairs. "Alice, get it together, everything you do is affecting Mia. Suddenly leaving like that can make her question what it is she said that was so upsetting."

BOOK: Going Solo (New Song)
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