When Everything's Said & Done (8 page)

Brenda glanced at the ceiling, then back at Michael. “Sure you can.”

“I can.” He started to laugh.

“Well we shall see,” Brenda challenged as they headed for the front door.

The next time Michael and Brenda entered the house it was hours later. Their timing for furniture shopping couldn’t have been better. Michael bought a couple of rooms of furniture, and an eager Babcock Furniture Company delivered it. Now, the smell of spaghetti sauce blended with Michael’s whistling as he busied himself in the kitchen. Brenda listened as she moved the last lamp for the last time. Her feet ached and, not being able to stand it any longer, she took her shoes off and stepped back to double-check her decision. Satisfied, Brenda sat down on one of the new dinette chairs. She grimaced as she pulled her foot onto her lap and squeezed. “I don’t understand it.”

“Understand what?”

“I don’t understand how you have so much energy after shopping all day.”

“And I don’t understand how you can be so tired when everybody knows women are the champions of all shoppers,” Michael replied.

“Yeah, but you and I have two different concepts of shopping. To me shopping means you browse and take your time. You enjoy the experience. You touch the fabric. Take in the colors.” She sighed and sat back. “But evidently, to you shopping means rushing through the stores, writing down different styles and prices and going back and choosing pieces through pure logic.” “My system doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

“It’s not that it’s bad,” Brenda retorted. “It’s just that you might have a heart attack from it.”

Michael laughed.

“You can laugh, but I’ve never been in so many stores so quickly in all my life.”

“I catch your drift.” Michael poured the steaming pasta into a colander. “But considering everything, I think you did real good.”

“Thank you.” Brenda’s voice changed ever so slightly. “We make quite a team, don’t we?” She looked toward the kitchen longingly.

“Yep, we do,” Michael threw over his shoulder. “But now your part of the bargain has been fulfilled. So all you’ve got to do is sit back and relax.” He put the lid back on the pot. “It’s too bad Miss Laura couldn’t come. How’s she doin’?”

“The bad days come and go,” Brenda replied. “But she won’t stick to the diet the doctor gave her. And whenever she eats something she’s not suppose to, es
pecially a lot of it, she doesn’t feel well.”

“I bet.” Michael stirred the sauce. “Maybe she’ll get accustomed to the diet after a while.”

“Maybe,” Brenda replied.

“Would you like to play some music?” he asked. “There’s some tapes on top of the eight-track player.” “Sure.” Brenda walked over and rifled through the small stack of tapes. Moments later the Isley Brothers began to croon “Living For The Love Of You.”

“Turn it up. That’s one of my favorites,” Michael called. “Mine, too.” Brenda tried to match his casual tone as she adjusted the volume. She closed her eyes and walked the room as she listened to the lyrics. When Brenda opened her eyes again, they focused on Michael as he stood in the kitchen with his back turned. She walked toward him.

“The food will be ready in about five minutes,” Michael said as he turned, only to find Brenda standing a few feet away. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were in here.” “I just came in.” Brenda stepped a little closer. “Would you care for something to drink? Some wine? ” “Are you drinking?” Brenda looked into his eyes. “Nope. But don’t let that stop you.”

She looked down. “A woman doesn’t want to drink alone, Michael.”

“If you say so.” He made a funny face. “The crazy games women play. But you know, between me and you, if you want a drink, all you have to do is say so.” “And why is it so simple between us?” The question was soft and quiet.

“Because...” Michael shrugged.

“Because we don’t have that kind of relationship?” “That’s right,” he replied.

A pensive smile lit Brenda’s face. She leaned against the refrigerator. “We’ve known each other for quite a while, haven’t we?” Brenda continued with another question before Michael could answer. “Do you remember the night Annette introduced us?”

Michael nodded. “Sure I do. It seems like yesterday but it was a couple of years ago. And it’s been a while since Annette...has been gone.”

“Yes.” Brenda looked down at her hands. “I miss her.” “We all do,” Michael said softly.

Brenda lifted her chin. “When Annette introduced us that day...my heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to burst right through my chest.”

“Really?” Michael stopped stirring and looked at her. “I remember asking you if you ever attended A&M,” Brenda continued. “But I already knew the answer, because from the very first time I saw you I had feelings for you.” She looked at Michael with full eyes. “But there you were, being introduced to me by my little sister as the man of her dreams.”

“Brenda...wait.” Michael touched her shoulder.

“No,” she said. “I need to say this.”

Michael shook his head.

“You don’t want to hear it,” she continued softly. “But I’ve got to say this, Michael. I’ve held back for so long. If Annette were still here, these words would never pass my lips. You would never know how much I care for you. But she’s gone, Michael, and I know Annette would want the best for you. And the best for me.” Brenda’s hand went to her heart. “I can make a good home for you, Michael. We could be so good together. And you couldn’t find a better business partner anywhere in St. Petersburg.”

“Brenda. Please...stop.” His hand tightened on her arm.

“Won’t you give us a chance?” Brenda implored. “Won’t you give me a chance to make you happy? To turn this house into a home?” Her words hung in the air.

“Brenda.” Her name broke the silence. “You’re an attractive woman, and one day the right man will come along.” Michael had to look away before he continued. “But that man is not me. It’s not me, Brenda.”

“You could learn to love me,” she softly insisted.

“For a man like me, that would leave the door wide open for trouble. And that wouldn’t be fair to you or me,” Michael replied.

“I see.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I see.” At first Brenda covered her mouth with a shaky hand. Then she tried to smile and cover the hurt. Finally, Brenda looked at the stove. “I think the sauce is ready. You better pour it over the spaghetti before it starts to stick. I’ll set the table.”

Hesitantly, Michael turned back to the stove as Brenda removed
two plates from a cardboard box. She walked to the dining room and put the plates on the table. The sound the ceramic dishes made when they met the wood table seemed inordinately loud. But the sound of Brenda closing the front door behind her without saying goodbye was even louder.

Michael turned and stared in the direction of the liv
ing room. Afterward, he held on to the rim of the kitchen sink and hung his head.

Nebia’s Story...

“Oh, my God.” Sheila held her fingers to her mouth. “I couldn’t have stayed after that, either. Talk about rejection.”

“I couldn’t have said that stuff in the first place,” Erica remarked. “I mean, really. Annette had been in love with him. I think Michael nipping it in the bud served Brenda right.”

“All I’ve got to say is, right or wrong,” Nebia said, “Michael did turn her down. Of course he was only trying to be true to his own feelings. And you have to realize they were all feeling Annette’s death mighty heavily.” Nebia looked into all three of their faces. “People make all kinds of strange choices when loved ones die, almost as if reality is so shaky they lose their own true selves...or else they find them.” Nebia released her next words with a heavy breath. “I don’t know which one it was in Cora’s case.”

“Cora came back?” Cynthia asked.

“Ye-es. Cora came back just like a hurricane. You knew that she had arrived, but you didn’t know what the consequences were gonna be.”

CHAPTER 9

“How you doin’, Miss Laura? Miss Nebia?” Michael asked as he stood on the stairs of the Robinsons’ apartment building. “I was driving by and I saw you sitting out here. I thought I’d come up and say hello.”

“You bet’ not see us out here and pass by without stopping,” Laura replied. But Nebia got up and went to the furthest corner of the front porch. Laura fol
lowed her movements with a frustrated glare. “Don’t you know how to speak, woman?”

Nebia put up her hand to shush her.

Laura gave her a chastised look. “Next time, Michael, you know not to ask after her.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Michael glanced at Nebia. “I know Miss Nebia doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Well.” Laura nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way.” She smiled as a distant thumping began. “But I tell you. I’ve been doing pretty good, myself.” Laura leaned forward in her chair as a couple of children on bicycles stopped riding to look back. “What is that noise?”

“I don’t know.” Michael took his foot off the stairs
and started back up the walkway. “There’s a crowd of people coming down the street.” He shielded his eyes from the sun. “It sounds like a drum to me.”

“It’s Cora.” Nebia said in a powerful whisper.

The metal hinges of the screened door creaked as Brenda came out onto the porch. She stood by her mother’s chair as the drumming strengthened along with a faint voice that wove in and out of the beats.

“Cora?” Laura said her daughter’s name as she heaved her body out of the chair. “That’s Cora’s voice.” She wrapped her arm around one of the porch columns.

By now Cora’s voice filled the street. The words were foreign, but the tone was as solemn as any funeral.

“It is Cora,” Laura repeated as she and Brenda walked down the stairs and joined Michael on the side
walk. Michael glanced at Brenda, but she continued to look straight ahead.

By then they could see Cora’s gold wrap billow around her like a vibrant aura as she drummed and sang.
Some of the children ran up and joined her, oblivious to the tears that coursed down Cora’s face. They did not recognize the pain in Cora’s song, so they moved with the drumbeat in comical fashions. Then one after the other they saw her face and stopped their antics, but they continued to walk with her, their eyes wide with questions. By then Cora’s tears had nearly stopped, but as she neared the house she grew up in, a new downpour began.

Laura cried, too, as she stood on the public sidewalk with Brenda, Nebia and Michael a few feet behind. When Cora reached her mother she placed the drum on the ground and took hold of Laura’s hands. “The peo
ple I stayed with say the vibration of the human voice goes on forever. So I sang from Annette’s grave to our house. That way she will always know where home is no matter where she died. It’s the only gift I could give Annette and you. Mama, after being gone for so long.”

“Thank you, baby. There’s no way Annette will forget now.” Laura threw her arms around her daughter. “Been gone? Time means nothing now that I’m holding you in my arms. Welcome home, Cora.” Laura’s ivy arms clung to her daughter as tears spilled down both their faces.

Cora closed her eyes as Laura’s motherly love washed over her. She opened them and looked straight into Brenda’s eyes. For a moment their gazes held before Cora gently moved away from Laura and over to her sister.

“Brenda... ” She searched the eyes that were so much like her own.

There was only a split second when their arms didn’t know what to do, but then they hugged.

“Welcome home, Cora. It’s good to see you,” Brenda said.

“It means so much to hear you say that,” Cora replied.

They shared a final squeeze before Cora stepped away. She looked at Michael. “So you’re still here.” Her lips held a slight, warm smile.

“Where else would I be? I’ve made St. Petersburg my home.” He stammered as a light entered his eyes.

She rose on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Yes. Where else?”

“It’s good to see you, Cora,” Michael said, his voice full.

“You, too,” she replied. “All of you.” Cora added almost too quickly as she looked from Brenda to her mother and finally at Nebia, who remained at the top of the stairs.

Cora ran to meet Nebia. “Nebia...Nebia, I’ve thought of you so often.” She grabbed her hand.

“I have thought of you, too.” Her steely gaze bore into Cora’s wet eyes. “And because of that we were never parted.”

Cora shook her head as tears mingled with laughter. “Never.” She turned back toward the street; she looked at her family, friends and neighbors, at old faces as well as new ones. “It’s good to be back,” Cora announced.

Laura took a few quick but stiff steps toward the house. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Cora said.

Laura stepped onto the first step and then the next. “Well, I better get in here and fix you something.” Cora grabbed her arm. “Something that you really like. Just name it—” she beamed “—and mama is sure to please.”

“I could do with some of your good vegetables and...some cornbread.”

“Vegetables and cornbread.” Laura leaned back. She looked Cora up and down. “Looks like you need a lit
tle meat on your bones to me.”