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Authors: Donald Welch

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BOOK: In My Sister's House
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“I couldn’t believe that shit,” she continued. “I thought about calling Clara Bow, that attorney, but I knew I’d pissed her off last time. I just went back to my cell, and who’s there but Layaway, just chillin’, reading a magazine.

“I straight up asked her, ‘Why would you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell them the truth? My eighteen months was almost up and now I have to finish my entire sentence. I thought you were my friend.’

“Well, she just looked at me like, ‘Would I rather her tell the Bulls what really happened, so they could keep fucking with me verbally and sexually and all that, or would I rather her say I wasn’t to be messed with? You know, that fucking with me could result in what happened to Trae.’ She was straight up, ’cause she ain’t have nothing to lose. She was like, ‘They taking me out in a body bag, so it ain’t
shit for me to admit to what I did.’ That was real. Nothing was gonna change her situation, but she said, ‘You, well you are a li’l different.’ This way I looked like a cold-hearted bitch who had had enough, and no one would dare mess with me.”

Turning to her sister, Storm walked closer to her. “Yeah, sis, I done seen a lot, done a lot. So don’t you ever tell me I ain’t been through shit!” Walking toward the kitchen doors leading back into the main club area, she turned to Skylar one last time. “Now give me my muthafuckin’ cut or we selling this bitch!” With that, she burst through the door, leaving it swinging back and forth, a visibly distraught Skylar standing in her own solitude.

< SIXTEEN >
The Storm Was Passing Over

A
few days after pouring her heart out to Nettie about the discovery of her biological father, Lovely decided to donate blood to Felix Murphy. It had not been an easy decision. She was shocked, angry, sad, and confused, but surprisingly a little happy. Happy because at least the unanswered question of who her father was had been answered. She’d never believed the story that her mother told her about him dying before she was born. Whenever she asked about her father as a child growing up, her mother would become angry. “I told you he died before you were born, didn’t I?” her mother would say. One time she had even made the mistake of asking her mother if she missed her father. She was sent to her room and told to go to bed. Seconds later she heard her mother softly crying in her room. That moment, she decided never to ask about him again.

Now she was on her way to the hospital to do the
right thing
. She made it clear to Hertha James that although she had agreed to do this, in no way did she want any communication with Mr. Murphy. Even after he inquired about the “pretty brown girl” who used to come and see him. She was not going back to see him. She couldn’t. She didn’t love him. How could she possibly love the man who had raped her mother and put her through the mental anguish she’d obviously been going through for so many years? Besides, he never
knew about her. It was too painful. But as a nurse, she had pledged to help anyone with a medical crisis, and if that meant getting personally involved by donating blood for a person to live, then so be it.

As she pulled into the hospital employee lot, her cellphone rang. It was her son, Tony Jr. “Mommy, when are you coming to get me?”

“Soon, baby. Mommy’s coming to get you soon,” she said. There was a moment of silence on the phone. “Tony, are you okay? What’s the matter?” She knew that whenever her son got quiet, something was bothering him.

“I’m sad, Mommy,” he said softly.

“Sad, why? Aren’t you having a good time with Grammy?”

“Yes,” he said, even softer.

“Then why are you sad, Booby?”

“Because I miss you,” Tony said in between his sniffles.

“Aw, baby, Mommy’s right here. You know that.” Lovely sounded sad herself.

“I don’t want you to go away like Daddy,” Tony said before getting quiet.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll come and get you today,” she said. After hanging up with her son, Lovely broke down. She could not believe that her son felt abandoned. She honestly thought she was doing the right thing by sending him to his grandmother’s while she tried to figure out everything that was going on in her life.

None of this stopped the guilt from taking over. Maybe it was selfish sending him away. No one meant more to her than her son, and his thinking any differently killed her inside. She knew what she had to do. As soon as she left the hospital she was going to get her son, take him home with her, where he belonged, and never leave again.

Entering Jefferson, Lovely was hoping not to see many coworkers— she didn’t feel like any conversation. In fact, she instructed Hertha not to mention that she was coming in. She just wanted to go directly to the lab, do her duty, and leave. Before she got there, though, she ran into Hertha. “Hey, Lovely, could I have a word with you in the office?” Hertha asked.

Lovely assumed that Hertha was going to try again to persuade her to see Felix. But her mind was made up and there was no changing it. After today, she never wanted to think about Felix Murphy again.

“Hertha, I know what you’re going to say and the answer is still no. I—”

Hertha cut her off and asked her to sit down. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Lovely. Mr. Murphy died this morning.”

“What? How? When?”

“Less than an hour ago. He took a turn for the worse and suffered a massive heart attack. I tried calling your cell but it went directly to voice mail. I’m sorry, Lovely.”

“What happens now? I mean, has his family been notified?” Lovely asked.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Murphy did not have any next of kin listed in his records. He resided at the Simpson House in Bala Cynwyd. They are sending someone to claim the body.”

Simpson House was an adult-care facility, a rest home for the elderly. Lovely had visited it several times while in nursing school and volunteered there during the Christmas holiday.

Hertha thanked Lovely for coming in and asked how she was doing.

“I’m coming alone fine, thanks,” Lovely said, forcing a smile.

“Well, you’re very much missed around here. We look forward to you returning when you’re able. Just take as much time as you need. You’re one of the best nurses this hospital has, and your job is secure with us.” Hertha got up and hugged Lovely.

After leaving Hertha’s office, Lovely walked down the hall in a daze, full of mixed emotions. Why was Felix Murphy’s death affecting her? It couldn’t have been losing a father, because to her knowledge
her father
had been dead for years. Was this her fault? Would he have survived had she donated the blood days ago? In order to avoid a group of nurses waiting for the public elevator, Lovely went down a side corridor to the service elevator, which actually went down closer to the employee parking lot anyway. On the way down, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. Kareem, an orderly, got in with a
gurney holding a covered, deceased patient. He was happy to see Lovely.

“Hey, Lovely, you’re back, huh?” he said, smiling at her.

“Hi, Kareem. No, I’m not back yet. I just had to come in to take care of some things.” Before the door closed, Kareem stopped it midway.

“Shoot, I forgot my radio. Lovely, you can go on down, Rob is waiting in the back to transport this body to the holding area. He’ll meet the elevator when it stops. Thank you!” Kareem leapt off, leaving the gurney, with his clipboard flat on the top sheet.

“Okay, Kareem.” Lovely managed a chuckle. She always liked Kareem and thought that he was a great kid. He planned on being a doctor: He worked at the hospital during the summer and was a fulltime student at Temple during the rest of the year.

A sudden jolt of the elevator stopped it between floors.

“Damn!” Lovely said out loud. She had forgotten that this particular elevator periodically got stuck between floors. Something caught her eye on the paperwork Kareem had left on the clipboard. At the bottom right corner in red block letters the word “unknown” was stamped. Lovely knew that it meant the person was a vagrant or homeless with no family or next of kin. She looked toward the top of the page and to her stunned horror, she saw the name “Felix Murphy.” Dropping her purse and closing her eyes, she backed up against the wall of the elevator and clutched her chest. She frantically started pushing the lobby button on the elevator panel. But then Lovely was suddenly overcome by a sense of calm. She slowly turned toward the body on the gurney and began to speak through her tears.

“I’m sorry that your life has ended this way. I truly am. These last few weeks you have caused me a lot of heartache, but not nearly as much as the lifetime of pain you caused my mother. However, somehow, I don’t hate you. I pity you. I feel pity for what must have been a trying life you led. May God bless your soul, and may you rest in peace.” Wiping away tears, she stepped a bit farther back from the gurney. The elevator started moving and continued its descent. As the doors opened, she turned toward the body. “Good-bye, Father.”

< SEVENTEEN >
If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don’t Wanna Be Right

S
itting on the side of his bed, DuBoy lit up a blunt and took a long drag. It had been more than two weeks since he last brought up the issue of the club to Storm, and Torch was sweating him now more than ever. Storm was going to have to act on this shit! Hell, he was tired of pretending that he loved her. How could he? They spent damn near three years apart. To be frank, he wasn’t even feeling her that much sexually anymore. Sure, the first few days were off the chain, but Storm was falling off her game. She was spending more and more of her time at Legends, which would have been a good thing if she had been working on her sister about the buyout. But he knew for a fact she hadn’t been saying too much of anything to Skylar. In fact, Gidget told Torch that Skylar and Storm hardly ever spoke.

Thinking about Gidget made him laugh. That girl came to Legends like she was a little innocent white farm girl wanting to dance, when that was far from the truth. DuBoy knew the kind of freak Gidget was. The shit the two of them did sexually would’ve been banned from a porn flick. Thinking about it made him want to lie back across the bed and pleasure himself, but he decided against it. He had plenty of freaks on speed dial. Picking up his cellphone he made a call.

“Yo, ‘sup? What you doing? Why don’t you come through the spot? When? Now, bitch! I’m hittin’ you up now, ain’t I?” he raised his voice.

“Aight, I’m sorry, Shorti. I ain’t mean to holla at you. It’s just I’m here all by myself wanting some company, you know, so I thought I’d hit my girl up.” He took another drag on the blunt.

“Don’t worry about her. This is my spot. She ain’t here no way. Yo, look, you coming through or not?” A smile crept across his face and he lay back down across the bed. “Yo, you miss me?” he said in a low sexy voice.

“Hurry up!” DuBoy shouted out playfully before hanging up. Feeling the buzz from his high, he headed to the shower, but not before calling Torch and telling him he was going to come by and holla at him later.

On the other side of town, Flynn and Alexia stopped by Ben and Jerry’s while taking a summer night’s stroll down South Street. South Street was a very popular, trendy ten-block strip of quaint little restaurants, shops, and boutiques. If Philadelphia was known as the city of neighborhoods and cultures, then South Street was a sure indication that this was true.

Flynn and Alexia had been spending a lot of time together the past couple weeks, just getting to know each other. Flynn was ready to take it to the next level, but he didn’t want to push her. Alexia was very guarded about her feelings, which Flynn chalked up to a past relationship gone bad. But Flynn was willing to be patient. It had been a long time since he’d actually met someone he felt this way about.

Even though Flynn was pretty open about his story, Alexia offered little about her background except that she was an only child and that, except for her cousin, she didn’t really stay in touch with many of her relatives. “Have you ever been married?” he asked in between spoonfuls of ice cream.

“Nah … I don’t think a committed relationship has to have a piece of paper from City Hall,” Alexia replied.

“True. But I thought most girls wanted the fantasy-type wedding. The long white dress, bridesmaids, the church. You know, the whole nine yards,” Flynn said, chuckling.

“Not all girls,” Alexia offered. “If I am ready to settle down with anyone again, a small intimate commitment ceremony is fine with me. I don’t need all that pomp and circumstance.”

“You are a rare one, Miss Alexia Adams. I’m definitely not letting you go.” They both laughed.

“Oh really, now. Who said you
have
me to let go?” Alexia teased.

“It’s like that, huh? Well, I thought by now that I was doing a pretty good job of winning you over.” Flynn stopped walking and turned to look in Alexia’s eyes. He wanted to kiss her but just wasn’t sure if it was where Alexia wanted to go. She looked away momentarily.

“What’s the matter?” Flynn asked.

Looking at him for a moment, Alexia smiled and said, “Nothing is wrong, Flynn. You’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve been doing everything right. It’s just that … well. Look, I like you very much Flynn, I really do. But I’m not ready, okay?” Alexia teared up.

Taking her face in his hands Flynn pulled her closer. Her body stiffened initially, but after looking into his eyes she relaxed a bit.

“Who hurt you?” Flynn asked in a low voice while searching her eyes for an answer.

“Excuse me!” a female voice bellowed over the various street sounds.

“Y’all need to get a room—dang!” said a member of a group of teenage girls trying to pass the couple, whose romantic embrace was blocking the thoroughfare.

“Oops, we’re sorry,” Alexia said, taking Flynn’s hand and moving off to the side. She was relieved: The girls’ interruption gave her a chance to change the subject.

“Hey, why don’t we walk down to Penn’s Landing and sit by the water? I love it down there.”

Flynn agreed and they started toward the landing. After a few steps, Flynn took Alexia’s hand in his. She didn’t object. He smiled
and they walked the next few moments in silence, taking in the night.

BOOK: In My Sister's House
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