Chardonnay: A Novel Page 14

  “Chardonnay!” he yelled after me.

  “Leave me alone.” I yelled back through the crowd of family.

  Konstance stopped Myron and took him off to the side while I ran outside to cry my eyes out and palpitating. The neighborhood was quiet but I knew my name was being whispered through it. Could no little Heiress girl turn down another Heiress’s proposal in Kansas City and not be the talk of the town.

  The front door swung open a second later and it was Konstance and Jersey.

  “You going to see Pal pal?” Jersey said.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Can I go? I mean I’m sixteen, I ain’t a baby anymore.”

  I sighed and looked at Konstance.

  “Alright come on.”

  When we arrived he was coughing, battling the ghost. I asked Konstance and Jersey to go in first. I wanted to be alone with Pal pal for a minute and at least give them a chance to see him. I tapped my feet as I waited, cried as I waiting. I needed someone to hold me up too. That someone wasn’t my boyfriend. It was Myron. Slim couldn’t give me closure like Myron could. But how would that look? I waited alone and they finally came back out.

  “He wants to see you now.” said Konstance.

  Jersey was a nervous wreck. She found out what we already knew. It was just a matter of time. I kissed her and Konstance held her little cousin. I walked in and death had never been so blunt. The rattle of it in his chest, his eyes turning out. I wasn’t sure he knew who I was until he called my name. I jumped, reacting to him like a spirit already. Where had he found the strength to call out?

  “Yes Pal pal?”

  “I love you. You are a special woman. And you are like your mother, that’s why you two,” he coughs.

  “You two can’t get along.” he laughs at his confession.

  “It’s that stubborn Indian in our blood.”

  I rubbed my Papa’s Indian soft hair. He was full blown French Creole. My grandmother was Black. My Pal pal’s skin was usually white as snow. It now was turning darker.

  “You don’t have to say anything.” I said as tears fell.

  “Yes I do. Speak now or forever hold my peace.” he joked.

  Always the joker.Hadn’t joked since he became sick until now.

  “I love you Pal pal.”

  “Love goes deeper than the surface; deeper than any flaw or forgiveness. Love is not how much a person can run over you, but how much you can take head on. It’s never giving up.”

  I laughed thinking about how much I took from Myron.

  “Pal pal, a person can only take so much.” I said breaking down.

  “True, but have you ever wondered why the struggle of life and love is so complicated?”

  “Yes, and I can’t figure out why.”

  “Nothing comes easy. Hard work is dedication. You’re young right now and impatient, but if you wait...good things happen.” he coughed again, his withered body shaking.

  The wisest words he ever gave me and I took them in one ear and out the other. Myron had dug a bitter hole with me that no one could fill up with hope.

  “Go get me some water in this cup. Time’s a wasting.” he said handing me a cup and smiling. I left out and looked back, and for a minute thought I saw a glow over him. I ignored it and walked on out. I got to the nurses’ station and asked them for some more water when doctors and nurses rushed to the room I just left out of. Konstance and Jersey came out of the waiting room looking around at the confusion just as I was. I walked back over to peek in the room.

  “He’s gone.” said a doctor.

  I dropped the cup and the water splashed everywhere. My heart was broken again, but this time I wasn’t sure it would be able to be put back together. I looked to my left and Myron was slowly walking to me and then stopped. The expression on his face was worn and he was out of breath, as if he had rushed to be at my side. I walked slowly to him and he wrapped his arms around me.

  “I got chu. I got chu.” he whispered, and I broke down in his arms.

  Love is patient, love is kind, but what they don’t tell you is love may leave you in time. Myron held me and kissed me softly on my forehead.

  “Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”

  Konstance watched on as she cried silent tears and held Jersey tight. Our grandfather was possibly the greatest love of a man that we would receive. He built the foundation for a legacy that could be untouched in our hearts. Konstance gave a self-deprecating smile, nodded her head as if to say she understood, and looked away. She knew I wasn’t riding back with her and Jersey.

  * * * *

  The water danced off the moon shine of the dark sky as Myron and I sat at the pool of his parent’s home. For most of the evening we sat quiet, momentarily taking looks in at each other. I leaned back on the beach chair, digressed into my pride, breaking the silence first.

  “You know...I can’t thank you more for being there for me tonight.”

  He looked over and gave a gentle smile,

  “I owe you. Konnie told me to just go away but I felt the least I could do was be there for you. I know how much your grandfather meant to you—regardless if we aren’t on good terms—I just couldn’t leave you like that alone.”

  I moved over to his lawn chair and balled myself up into his body. His arms wrapped around mine as he said, “Chardonnay, I—I have to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “Ah,” Myron said looking at me in his arms, unsure if he wanted to ask me.

  “Nothing.”

  “Ask me. Can’t be that life altering.”

  He looked at me with intense eyes, suggesting that it was.

  “Ah man, I can’t ask you. It’s not that important anyway. Not right now.”

  I left it alone. Didn’t feel like pulling teeth.

  “Thank you for being here for me like this. You didn’t have to—”

  “Yes...I did. You are number one to me no matter what Char. No matter what happens you can call me morning, noon, or night.”

  I smiled at Myron. Our building friendship. We had never had one before. Maybe that’s what was missing. He held me as the cool night air swept around us. His presence made me whole. Nothing of the sort was holding me back from kissing him except for my pride. My eyes left his and we left friendship being friendship.

  13

  Family Matters

  I was still hung over the fact that my Pal pal was gone the next morning. I ended up going back to my parent’s house only after Myron talked my mother into doing so. My room wasn’t truly mine anymore since I had been gone when introductions where made to who would sleep in what room. As much money as my family had—they were from the country and country folks didn’t believe in wasting good country money on hotels.

  Family crowed the house and they had arrived from out of town from three different states: Louisiana, Oklahoma, and Tennessee. Not one room in that house was empty, including mine where the girls slept ranging in age from six to forty-five years of age. Aunt Marjorie being the oldest and my Aunt Dallas on my mother’s side daughter Zabria being the youngest. I had to find peace. At five in the morning I could already smell something sweet stewing from the kitchen. I knew my mother hated baking so it couldn’t have been her. I unburied myself from under my two little cousin’s Tykila and Shavon all while climbing over Stacia, a second cousin, and Aunt Fallon, my mother’s twin sister. They looked so much different it didn’t make sense. Even the explanation that they were fraternal twins boggled me. She stirred after I move my foot over her and said,

  “Chardonnay?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and said,

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Awe baby it ain’t your fault...wait for me.”

  I adjusted my robe that I had slept in since I had company in my room and smiled at her while I stood at the door. Aunt Fallon stood to her feet and rubbed her eyes as she, it seemed, floated towards me. It was like doctor Heckle and Mrs. Hyde looking at her and my mother. Aunt Fallon was natur
al. Her brown hair was worn curly and all over her head, she didn’t wear very much make-up, and her clothes were casual vintage. A cute style that I adored myself. My mother was glam. Everything she wore was so brand new she had to wash the fresh fabric scent away before she wore them. We walked on out the door careful not to disturb anyone else and head down the long hallway leading to the stairs.

  “I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

  “Chile, I was already pacing in the night...who you think cooking? Sho ain’t your momma, Hattie or Marge.”

  I chuckled.

  “Aunt Karmen can get down.”

  “Yeah but she ain’t cooked since eighty-two...your momma got her married to a Houston.”

  We chuckled. Konstance and I were double cousins...long story, long family tree. We headed down the stairs and made our way to the kitchen. Aunt Fallon opened the oven door and the scent of cinnamon rolls made from scratch bombarded my five senses. She stirred the sauce that cooked on the top burner and then wiped her hand with a five hundred dollar kitchen towel I knew my mother would have a fit over getting used. She turned towards me and her hazel eyes were so bright. That was the other thing different about her and my mother. Aunt Fallon sat on a stool and moved her fingers through her curly tresses.

  “How are you doing anyway, babe?” she asked looking in my eyes.

  I smirked and chuckled.

  “Not too well.”

  She nodded her head.

  “Your momma still try’na make you marry that boy?” Her hand went over to mine and closed a tight grip around them.

  “Something like that...but I feel...I don’t know.”

  “You love him?”

  “Yeah...” I said then looked away.

  She took my chin in her warm palm and turned my face gently to hers.

  “Char-doh-nay,” and she said my name in its correct pronunciation.

  “The one thing love is not is unsure.”

  My eyes found their way back to hers and I loosened my hands from reality being so cruel. She leashed something on me that I wasn’t ready for. My ears didn’t want those words, but my heart felt them.

  “I love him. I do...I just don’t think I’m ready for that big step.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  I raised an eyebrow and wondered how much my Aunt knew. My mother ran her mouth, but when it came to things like Myron hurting my feelings, my mother didn’t give a damn. I was sure her intent was on spilling how much that NFL contract he signed was or what golden toilet stool he sat on to take a shit in. I bit down on my lip and said,

  “What makes you think he’s done something to me?”

  “That mark on your neck.”

  Frowned my eye brows and laughed.

  “Myron would never hurt...” and my words trailed off.

  I envisioned him picking me up and putting my body in the backseat of his Escalade...but it wasn’t day time near the lake he had taken me to when he nearly lost it and tried to discipline me by stealing my freewill of who I wanted to sex, and put in effect that he was the only dick to pulsate in me. It was dark outside, cold, and my body ached. Everywhere. I blinked my eyes and just like a translucent cloud, the lost memory blew away.

  “Baby, you okay?”

  “What has my mother told you?”

  She shrugged her shoulder and said,

  “Nothing. I just see so much pain in your eyes whenever his name is mentioned...and

  Chardonnay, I haven’t been out of France in years and only been around you a few days...he’s scorned you honey.”

  “France? You’ve been in France?” I asked in amazement.

  “Yes honey.”

  I smiled and blinked back tears. If a distant Aunt knew Myron was no good for me, my mother had to of known. She was around me every day of my life for the last twenty-one-years.

  “He and I are trying to at least be cordial. I just need to know his heart you know...and why mine is confused, making me feel as if Myron’s the worst imaginable guy ever.”

  She laughed and stood from her seat to check on the rolls.

  “Baby, girlfriend to girlfriend, there will be plenty more men like Myron. What chu think Beyonce meant about catching her guy rolling around with some chick in a car that she bought him and letting his ass know, “I can find another you in a minute? That’s because it’s easy to be unfaithful and untrue. It takes a unique and God fearing man to be irreplaceable.”

  I smiled and nodded my head at Aunt Fallon. I wanted to scream and praise her for her gospel.

  But I just said,

  “Preach on, preach on!”

  She laughed and turned the knob off and pulled out two huge cookie sheets of cinnamon rolls.

  “Take one while they’re hot and last. Once everyone wakes up everything gonna be gone. I got more hours of cooking to go.”

  I took one and placed it in a napkin from off a dispenser roll. Its warmth blanketed my palm as I sunk my teeth into it. I hadn’t tasted food this good since Grandma Jo. My father’s mother cooked at my very first Christmas dinner with Myron and his family. And it would be the last meal I had that good or with her presence at all.

  “This is so good.”

  “Thank you ba’be.” she said turning to me and staring at me for a moment that seemed like forever as I looked back into her eyes. Aunt Fallon had a way about her that even if she was far away, I could still remember the last time I saw her like it was yesterday. In fact it seemed she didn’t age.

  “You know...you have grown into a beautiful, self-assured young woman Char-doh-nay. I only wish I was around more to see it.”

  I smiled and was truly appreciative of her for that.

  “Thank you Aunt Fallon.”

  She looked at my stomach and I became very sub-conscience, wrapping my arms around my waist. She walked towards me and took her hands to my forearms and gently removed them away. Letting go of my waist was like a release, letting a rush of imprisoned lies, demons, and secrets flow away. She touched my face and said,

  “She’s apart of you...and that will never change—no matter what happens.”

  I blinked for a minute and couldn’t understand Aunt Fallon’s advice. Was it advice? Whatever the case she turned from me and continued on cooking at the stove.

  I turned and went back up to my room without another word to her. There was a funny thing about family. When you hate them, you truly hate them. And when you’re grateful for them, you’re evermore in bliss with them.

  * * * *

  Dusk dawned, birds chirped, and the light breeze that blew in my bay windows swept over me, grazing my belly. I opened my eyes to the sound of Beyonce’s Irreplaceable playing in the radio alarm clock. Realizing that there wasn’t anyone else in my bed, I leaned over the side of the bed, turned my alarm clock radio off that was blasting Beyonce’s song bird voice, and saw the floor was clear. I got up from the bed and tightened my robe around my body. A heavy pressure went down on my bladder and I rushed to the rest room. I let my panties down just in time to release the urine fighting me to burst out. After I flushed the stool, I stood to my feet and turned on the faucet, letting the water run warm before placing my hands in it. But before I could get my hands in the water I caught my own eyes...in my mirror. My neck was bruised as if it was heeling. And if I hadn’t looked to see what Aunt Fallon had brought to my attention—I would have never known it was there. I took a cold towel to it and let it sit. After doing my business, I showered, got dressed, and grabbed my purse and a light jacket. Just as I reached the top of the spiraling stairs, I could hear the roar of family, children playing, old folks laughing and clashing dominoes on card tables, and teens stomping the floors of the den right below me having a dancing contest. Although a bit sluggish and tired, I felt I was missing out on the fun. I saw my father and a few Uncles playing what they called “Bones” in the family living room to my right. The formal living room was just as empty as a dorm room on a Saturday night. I walked in that direction an
d made a sharp left turn to find my mother and Aunt’s sitting around the island in the kitchen, laughing and soaping things up. A few of my little cousins ran past me, one using me as a maneuver to get away from the other. The one thing I noticed was that not one person looked in morning from losing my Pal pal like I was.

  Just as if they had read my mind, my mother and Aunties turned to see me standing there, their faces becoming sad and sorrowful. I gave a smirk and my Aunt Karmen said, “Baby...he’s in a better place.”

  I nodded my head and thought, “What the hell did she know, she was an Aunt by marriage.” As wrong as my mind was thinking, I was liable to say anything right now. But I respected and loved Aunt Karmen regardless of how we were related especially being that she was Konstance’s mother. So I just disregarded her misplaced comment and stood next to my mother who was sipping her, when things get too hard to bare, mixture of coffee and Martel. I could smell the strong spirit brewing from the steam of freshly pored coffee. I looked around the table at my five Aunties seeing how they all viewed the matter when I noticed one was missing.

  “Ma, where’s Aunt Fallon?”

  The room grew silent...almost as deaf as Helen Keller. All small talk had ceased. I looked at everyone and frowned my eyebrows in quite despair as to why no one had answered my question. Aunt Hattie Mae stood from her chair, to my surprise looking as sober as I had ever seen her, and excused herself quickly to the downstairs restroom. I watched on as everyone looked at me as if I had created hell. What the hell was going on? Suddenly, with a voice invoked with spook and agony mixed into one, my mother said,

  “How—how do you know about...he—he—her?”

  “What do you mean? Y’all actin’ weird...someone tell me what’s going on? She was just here last night and—the cinnamon rolls, she made some.” I rushed over to the stove and could hear my Aunt Marjorie praying to God about what I didn’t know. My Aunt Dallas was one of the only kosher ones while my Aunt Karmen (who obviously had no clue what was going on) sat at the table looking around like I was. My mother stood from the table and said,