“I didn’t stab you in the back, I found out youliedabout your breakup. I gave someone a second chance because youlied.I’m not asking you to bend over backward like you ask me to do over and over. I’m asking for one thing.” I hold up a finger as if the visual will make my words penetrate her thick skull. “Tell Mom and Dad the truth. Tell Fran the truth. Tellmethe truth.”
Jackie juts her chin forward as if she’s going to dig her heels in deeper. “I didn’t lie about him hurting me.”
“Did you lie about him cheating?”
My breath hitches in my chest like you do when you pass a graveyard. Only I refuse to pass out because my sister can’t be ...won’tbe honest.
“Jackie?” Fran asks.
The doorbell peals in the house, and she flies off the couch.
“She isnotsaved by the bell,” I grouse.
Fran chuckles. “You know she’s going to let whoever’s at the door hijack the conversation. And judging by how high her chin hit the air, she’s not admitting anything. Queen Jackie can never be wrong.”
She’s been a diva since she could talk, and I’ve always followed after my big sister like she’s the sun I’ll happily orbit. The older I get, the more I understand idolizing my sister hasn’t done me any favors. I’ve become a second-class citizen, and it’s all my own doing.
Then Mom and Dad walk into the living room, and my gut drops to my toes.
“Oh my word,” Fran whispers.
We haven’t seen Mom in months, and judging from the brown glow she’s sporting, Caribbean life has been very good to her. Shelooks younger than a woman in her fifties should look, but the grim expression on her face tells me everything I need to know.
“Fran,” she says dryly.
“Hi, Mama.”
Mom meets my gaze. “Val.”
“Hey.” I give a weak smile. Her tone of voice says everything. We. Are.In.For. It.
“Jackie.” Mom crosses her arms as Jackie finds a seat, head hanging down.
“I thought you were in Aruba,” Fran says.
“I called her,” Dad interjects, lowering into Isaac’s favorite recliner. “Turns out Fran didn’t tell her she’s about to be a grandma again.”
Mom shudders. “I am not being called grandma. I’m not that old.”
“Yes, you are.” Dad smirks.
She rolls her eyes, and it’s like seeing a browner version of Fran. I hold my laughter because if both of our folks are here, we’re all in trouble.
“I wanted to tell you in person,” Fran states.
Mom opens her arms. “Here I am.”
“Um, congratulations, Mimi?”
“No. Don’t like that one either.” She sits next to Jackie. “What does Ollie call me?”
“When you’re around?” Jackie frowns. “Mimi.”
Mom blinks as if it’s the first time she’s heard that. She waves a hand in the air. “Judging from the sour expressions on y’all’s faces, you’re not talking about Fran’s pregnancy.”
Yikes! She doesn’t know?
Jackie arches a brow, and Fran’s expression turns mischievous. “Val has a boyfriend.”
