“You know my friend, Shirley? The beautician?”
She nods. “I met her that time she came over here to meet you after work.”
“That’s right. Sure did. She did it for me.”
Sarah eyes my hair with interest. “How long did it take?”
“Took her five hours.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Forget that.” Sarah’s like all the other young ladies in this House. None of them like to wait for things.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I say with a chuckle.
“How much did it cost?”
A few moments pass before I answer her. “We do it differently than y’all do. It wouldn’t cost the same,” is all I say. There are some things I like to keep to myself.
“You look hot.” She turns around and asks Shannon Harris and Emily Leonard, who have both just arrived, if they agree. Now everybody’s talking about my hair.
Once we’re alone Sarah takes Mama Carla’s chair. “Wait till you hear about my summer.” She pulls one foot up on the seat and props her chin on her knee. “A lot has happened.”
“I hope it’s good.”
“It’s not.” Pain creeps all over her little ol’ face.
I reach over, take her by the hand. “Are you okay, Sarah?”
She squeezes my fingers, shakes her head. By the way she’s biting down on her bottom lip I can tell she’s fighting back tears. “I’m okay. I just wish my life could go back to the way it was.”
“Come here, baby.” I wrap my arm around her, pull her in tight. Her parents divorced last year and it about broke her heart. Mine, too, watching the way it tore her up inside. Sarah and I are close. We’ve spent hours talking about everything from Alpha Delt to grades and female friends to boyfriends, even more serious subjects like faith, dying, and the afterlife. It makes me feel good to know I can soothe her.
“My dad insisted on helping me move in today. He’s around here somewhere. Asshole.”
I pull back, look her in the eye. “What makes you say that?”
She lowers her voice. “The truth finally came out. He’s been cheating on my mom with a girl only five years older than me.”
“Lord have mercy.”
“I’m so embarrassed.” Tears flood her eyelashes.
“Sarah. I know that’s hard on you. But listen to me. Your daddy’s actions do not define who you are. You may come from him, but you are your own person.”
“I know, I just don’t want people gossiping about me.” She’s right about that. Gossip is a favorite pastime in sorority houses.
“Let them talk. They aren’t talking about you; they’re talking about your daddy.”
She nods. But only slightly. A tear streaks down the side of her nose.
Jenna Dole and Liz Lemley bounce in the door for their keys. When Sarah sees them she looks off, wipes her tears away with her fingers.
“You just remember who you are and whose you are,” I whisper. “Will you do that for me?”
A shy smile builds. “You always make me feel better.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
What is it with these men who would sooner wreck their kids’ lives than deny that urge hanging between their legs?
