Giselle sat quietly with her head leaned back, gaze lost out the thick tint of the windows as she tried to put together a new game plan for herself. Southwick was a pit stop for her. The last thing she wanted was to plant roots here. Los Angeles was calling her. A dope ass condo on the beach was what she had her sights on after everything. It was time to shake the Midwest and this bipolar ass weather.
Reaching in the ashtray, Crew picked up the blunt he’d rolled while waiting for them and tucked it between his lips. With hisBIC lighter, he sparked the tip while Maisie pressed her cell phone against her ear.
“Yeah, Ma. We got her. We’re heading to the house now. No, I didn’t mention that. I thought it might be better if we gave her a little time first—” Maisie cut her eyes at her husband before rolling them at her mother on the other side of the phone. “Yeah, okay, we’ll see you in a few.”
“Mention what?” Giselle’s queried in a monotone from behind her cousin.
“Oh, girl, it’s nothing.” Maisie brushed it off.
“You smoking with us, G?”
“Why the hell not?” She leaned forward in her seat and grabbed the blunt when he passed to her.
Maisie seemed relieved that the subject had changed as Giselle puffed on the weed until she fell into a coughing fit and passed it to her over the seat. Studying the grim streets, she recalled a few of the local businesses that were still thriving. Sapien Automotive had cars lined up outside, and a lot of the local hustlers had gathered with their old schools and chrome wheels while their trunks rattled from the beat of their street tunes.
Crew continued for a few more blocks before he turned on St. Anne Avenue. Reminisce Knox, the older sister of Giselle’s late father, Gregory, had lived on this same street for as long as she could remember.
The homes were vast, most of them two stories, with a big front porch and average backyard. A lot had metal fences around them, but rolling up the slanted driveway to Remi’s place, Giselle immediately remembered the six-foot-high iron fence that surrounded the Tudor stone home. The driveway wrapped both front and back of the well-manicured structure to a two-car garage with two additional cars parked. A silver two door Lexus and beside it an old school F-150 that she rememberedRemi driving. In the summer, when they would have 4thof July events, Giselle recalled being on the back of that pickup, lighting off bottle rockets and Black Cats.
“Home sweet home.” Maisie took another toke of the weed and passed it to her man before reaching for the door handle. “Me and Crew’s house is still on the other side, right across the alley. So, if you need anything?—”
“You saying that like you actually be there.” Crew scoffed and swept his hand over his low-cut waves while settling in his seat.
“I am… occasionally. I sleep there.” Maisie sheepishly frowned before jumping out of the truck.
Big, heavy spots of rain hit the windshield and ground in a sudden downpour. She quickly lifted the hood to her jacket over her head.
“I got the bags, G.” Crew insisted, rushing out of the car after slipping a black hoodie over his head.
By the time she reached Remi’s back porch, Giselle was dripping wet. She smoothed out her ponytail and sniffled. It was colder now as she trembled while waiting for Maisie to unlock the door and let them inside.
“There she is!” Remi’s warm, sweet voice sang, pushing Maisie aside to get to her niece.
The tight squeeze and familiar scent of her favorite perfume, Jadore, left Giselle melting in her warm embrace. It was different with Remi. To this day, whenever Giselle needed to vent or had a problem, she always took Remi’s words of wisdom into consideration. Every few months they would catch up on the phone, but Giselle could admit this past year, she had been bad about reaching out.
“Hey, Auntie.” She smiled when she nudged her away to examine her.
Glistening brown sugar-coated eyes drank her in before she pressed a hand against her cheek.
“Always so pretty, even when you’re sad. Come inside. You can go upstairs and get out of those wet clothes. You remember the room you would sleep in when you came here for the summer?”
“Yeah.” Giselle nodded as Crew came rushing inside with her bags and shaking off the rain.
“Damn, G, the hell you got in these muhfuckas?” He huffed, dropping them beside the pine rectangle table.
Remi had it set up like a buffet with all the covered dishes. Somehow, she managed to remind Giselle of her childhood off the stomach-rumbling sides alone. There was even a 7-Up cake on one of those clear cake plates with the icing drizzled to perfection.
“What’s left of my life,” she answered dryly.
“Oh, now you hush all that talk up.” Remi swatted the dish towel in her direction as Giselle took a glimpse at her wet attire.
With her hands on her wide hips, Remi sized her up in the designer threads. She had her sister-in-law Grace’s poise, but Giselle was the spitting image of her father. The day she was born, everyone doted over how gorgeous she was when most babies came out all swollen and ugly. She was that girl from day one.
“Now, go get a shower, change your clothes, and then come back down here so we can catch up. I’ll make you a plate,” Remi told her.
“I’m not really hu?—”
“Chile, don’t nobody want to hear that. You look like you lost weight, so let me put a little meat on your bones,” Remi fussed. “Crew, take those bags upstairs.”
