Worth a Thousand Words (16 page)

Craig smiled, but Brian noticed that the warmth didn’t travel to his eyes.

“Your son would know, right, Brian?” Craig patted Brian’s back before walking away.

Brian’s mom turned toward him and frowned. “What was all that for?” she said and peered into Brian’s shifty eyes. “He must need that uniform to feel important. Don’t you be like that, Son. You remain humble and remember that without God’s favor and blessings, you wouldn’t have anything to be proud about.”

Brian nodded and turned his attention to the menu. He felt seven years old again, but he couldn’t climb into his mother’s lap and tell her all of his secrets anymore. Some of them might kill her.

He looked up and saw that she was staring at him. She held his gaze for a few minutes and blew him a kiss.

Embarrassed and unsettled, he looked toward his father. “So what’s going on back home?”

They chatted about the latest news in Austin, including recent sightings of Hollywood star Matthew McConnaughey, his girlfriend, and their new baby. His dad talked to him in detail about the riding lawn mower he had just purchased, and a new barbecue joint in town that was pretty good but had nothing on his “skills with a grill.”

Brian’s mom listened as her two men bantered back and forth and joined in occasionally. She was unusually quiet, though.

Brian paused and grabbed her hand. “What’s on your mind, young lady?”

She laughed. “I wish I
were
still young. When I was, I used to keep your daddy in a tizzy, panting behind me. But these days, he can’t keep up with me now.”

“TMI, people,” Brian said. “That is entirely too much information. I keep telling Dad what you two do behind closed doors needs to stay there.”

His father doubled over with laughter.

“Sit up, old man,” his mother teased him.

She grew serious. “So tell me about these wedding plans,” she said to Brian and pursed her lips. “How am I going to buy a mother-of-the-groom dress when I have no clue about colors, a theme, or a location for the reception? Indigo needs to get on the ball—or have you two decided to wait?”

Brian took a bite of his steak and hunched his shoulders. “We were going to discuss all of that this weekend, while she was here,” he said. “I’ve been caught up in candidate training so I’ve pretty much left everything to her. We talked this morning and she admitted that she wasn’t ready to get married in August—neither logistically or emotionally. Before we got off the phone, we decided that we’ll have a small ceremony in December, when she’s home from grad school for the holidays and I can get a few days of leave. I’m surprised she hasn’t been in touch with you at all, but then again, she’s had a lot going on.”

He thought about her glaucoma diagnosis and Yasmin’s illness, but didn’t mention either.

“I know she’s been helping out at her aunt’s hair salon,” his mom said. “The last time we talked, she mentioned that the internship hadn’t worked out, but didn’t say why. That was surprising for Miss Indigo. She’s usually a go-getter. And what’s going on with her sister?”

His parents watched him and waited for replies. Brian could tell that they’d had long discussions about these issues on the way up.

Shelby walked into his view just then, sparing him from having to talk about things Indigo might not be ready for him to share. She came up behind Brian’s mother and hugged her from the rear. When she turned and saw Shelby, she stood and gasped.

“Shelby? Is that you? You’ve lost twenty pounds
and
all of your beautiful hair!”

Shelby hugged her tightly, while her parents moved past her to greet Brian with similar enthusiasm.

“It will grow back, Ms. Mary,” Shelby said and laughed. “I’m not complaining about the weight loss, though. You don’t know how good it feels to eat whatever you want, knowing that the way they train you, it’s not going to show up on the hips. How are you?”

Brian’s mom hugged her again, then Brian’s dad had his turn.

“How’s my girl? You doing good?”

Shelby laughed and saluted him. “Yes sir! I’ve never been better.”

At that moment, Brian noticed someone else standing off to the side, taking in the whole scene, waiting to be invited into the group.

Shelby followed his gaze, then walked over and grabbed the man’s hand. She led him over to Brian.

“Brian, this is my friend Hunt Pappas. He lives in New York City and flew in to meet my parents this weekend.”

Brian stared until his mother coughed. He shook himself back to reality and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Hunt.”

No other words would come.

“Likewise,” said the man. “Shelby’s told me all about you and how you helped her dream her way here. I can’t say I like the idea of her flying fighter planes or living all over the world while I’m stuck in New York City, but I’ll get used to it.”

His piercing blue eyes penetrated Brian’s. He ran a massive hand through his dirty blond hair and shifted from one foot to the other.

He was nervous, but Brian was in shock. How long had Shelby been hiding this . . . friend? Why hadn’t she told him she’d fallen for a Brad Pitt look-alike with a Greek last name?

He asked her silently, with his eyes. The defiant answer she returned with hers told him to mind his own business.

Brian saw Craig lurking in the background, standing near the restaurant door with his eyes fixed on him, and realized that Shelby’s unspoken advice was dead-on: Tending to his own business had to be his top priority right now.

30

I
’m not keeping my promise until you keep yours.”

  Indigo folded her arms and bit her lip to defuse some of her anger. She knew Yasmin couldn’t help it, but it was so frustrating to see this beautiful girl losing herself in a sickness that was so unnecessary.

She didn’t have a weight problem; she was naturally tall and willowy. And yet, here they sat, in a professional counselor’s office, trying to convince this child that if she didn’t work hard to get well, she wouldn’t be coming home for a while.

“You want pictures to go to the top modeling agencies in New York? Prove that you can handle it,” Indigo challenged.

The hospital psychologist, Dr. Danvers, shook his head and raised his palm to silence Indigo.

“You can’t bribe her into doing this,” he told Indigo. “This is more than just a conscious choice at this point. It started out as a way to control her environment, to maintain some sense of equilibrium, and now it has overtaken her will. Yasmin has to work really hard to get healthy, and it will happen only if she wants it to.”

The news was hard to hear.

Yasmin didn’t react. She sat between Mama and Daddy on Dr. Danvers’s office sofa, which was covered with an outdated baby blue checkered pattern.

“What does she need to control?” Daddy said and leaned forward, shaking his head in frustration.

Dr. Danvers leaned forward too and looked at Yasmin. “Can you tell them?”

She lowered her head and sighed. “I don’t know. Everything. Me. Something.”

Dr. Danvers nodded. “Good.”

Mama and Indigo looked at each other, puzzled.

“That was good?” Mama said. “What did it mean?”

Dr. Danvers sat back and weighed his words.

“It means . . .” He paused before resuming his explanation. “Yasmin was nearly a year old when she came to live with you after her parents were killed in the car accident, Mr. and Mrs. Burns.

“You two were grieving the loss of your daughter and her husband, and suddenly, you went from being doting grandparents to daily caretakers of Yasmin, Indigo, and Reuben. Then, apparently a hip injury caused you to become dependent on alcohol, Mrs. Burns?”

Indigo winced as Mama nodded. This had to be painful.

“That period was tough for Yasmin, because there was a sense of chaos in your home, a sense that nothing was predictable and safe. Everyone deals with issues like this differently.”

He leaned forward again and Indigo saw the sympathy in his eyes. “When was the last time Reuben came home?”

Silence served as his answer.

Reuben had flown from Seattle to Tuskegee for Indigo’s college graduation, but she still was smarting over the fact that he had declined to come home to Texas for her party.

“He seems to be coping by staying away, by creating a life outside of the pain of losing his parents and watching his grandparents deteriorate in other ways,” Dr. Danvers said.

Mama began to weep. Indigo left her seat and walked over to rub her shoulders. But this was about helping Yasmin, and apparently Dr. Danvers wasn’t going to dance around feelings.

“Indigo, how do you think you’re coping? What are you afraid to tackle? Whom do you push away? What do you avoid?” he asked. “When you can answer those questions, you’ll understand how, in your own way, you are controlling, or trying to control, your environment to compensate for the period during your youth when nothing was in your control.

“For Yasmin, this has manifested as a desire, a need, to control her body image and her weight. Some people become anorexic, and some eat and purge. Plus the fact that she wants to model means she’s seeing the images in the media of stick-thin women, and that has validated or at least given her an excuse to do what already brings her comfort.”

Indigo felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. In a matter of minutes, Dr. Danvers had laid out her and her siblings’ dysfunctions, when they hadn’t really known they were there.

Was this the real reason she was postponing her wedding? Was this why her photography meant so much to her? If she couldn’t hold onto anything else, she would always have the images she created and the memories that came along with them.

She wanted to run outside so she could use her cell phone and call Brian to apologize. But he wouldn’t be at the barracks on a Tuesday afternoon anyway.

Indigo pulled herself back to the present when Yasmin wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking back and forth.

“I want help. I don’t want to stay like this.”

Yasmin’s whimpered declaration made Indigo’s heart leap.

Dr. Danvers’s expression didn’t change. “That’s easy to say, Yasmin, but it’s going to take a lot of work. Not only for you, but for your family. You can’t heal and go back into an environment where no one understands the journey you’re on. In order for you to get well, the whole family has to embrace hard truths and make a commitment to understand each other better so you can all heal—starting today.”

Indigo looked at Daddy. He sat up straighter and seemed resolved. He wasn’t a Navy man like Brian, but tell him how he could fix something, and you could count him in.

“Starting today,” Daddy repeated.

Mama nodded and wiped her eyes. “The past is the past. We will heal, starting today.”

She reached for her purse and searched through its contents until she found her tiny black cell phone. Despite the fact that they were still in session, Mama dialed a code programmed into the phone, then put the receiver to her ear. Her face fell as she listened.

“Hello, Son.”

Indigo realized that Mama was trying to reach Reuben, and as usual, her call was being routed to his voice mail.

“Check your schedule and see when you can come home. It’s been a long time, Reuben. We need you.”

31

I
t was , and for a change, Indigo got a chance to sleep in. She stretched, then smiled when the aroma of Daddy’s pancakes and bacon wafted across her nose.

Normally about this time she would already be at the hair salon, welcoming Eboni’s and Carlotta’s early morning clients, but Rachelle had called yesterday and offered to fill her shoes.

“You’ve got a lot going on. Take a break,” Rachelle had advised.

Indigo was grateful for the support and eagerly accepted the offer. She needed a weekend off, and today, she was going to be productive.

She climbed out of bed and slipped into a robe before padding down the hall to Yasmin’s room. She suspected Yasmin wouldn’t want to join them at breakfast and be tempted by all that she smelled, but she thought she’d at least try.

“I’ll eat something a little later,” said Yasmin, who was awake, but still under the covers, flipping through TV channels with her remote control.

Her spirits had remained low since she had been rushed to the hospital and had entered counseling. Her friends called constantly, asking her to come over or meet them at the mall. But since coming home two weeks ago, she mostly avoided them.

Rachelle’s daughter, Taryn, had been coming over quite a bit to hang out with Yasmin, and she seemed to be trying to get her cousin back in the swing of things.

This morning, Indigo invited Yasmin to join her when she met Nizhoni at the bridal shop in a few hours to try on wedding gowns.

“Maybe I will,” Yasmin said. “That sounds like fun.”

Indigo left the girl to her teenage pastime and headed toward the kitchen. Aunt Melba was in the hallway just ahead of her, moving in the same direction.

Indigo felt like cheering. It was so wonderful to see her walking, without any assistance.

Indigo cruised alongside her and gave her a hug. “How are you doing this morning?”

Aunt Melba smiled. “I am . . . blessed and . . . highly . . . favored.”

Both women roared with laughter. Long before her illness, Aunt Melba used to mock her customers who’d come into the salon and respond with that phrase.

Now that her speech had mostly returned to its normal pattern and she was able to be more physically mobile, she seemed to grasp and appreciate its full meaning.

“How . . . are you doing? I see that you took . . . the morning off,” Aunt Melba said.

Indigo paused and faced her, remembering that Aunt Melba was technically her boss.

“Is that okay? Rachelle is filling in for me.”

Aunt Melba waved Indigo away. “That’s more than fine. I didn’t make the comment . . . because I was worried. I only mentioned it because now that I’m feeling better, I’d like to start going to the salon with you . . . a couple of days a week, to get back in the swing of things.”

“Really?” Indigo didn’t conceal her excitement. She had been praying for this day. “That would be wonderful, Aunt Melba.”