Chardonnay: A Novel (15 page)

“You have to see Pal Pal, Chardonnay. Don’t let Myron be the cause
of that sorrow too.”

I moved a hair strand out my face and looked off at the house.

“He’s here to give his condolences; after all he grew up around
Pal pal too.”

I let it go and went to face the people in that house. Some, who
of which, I hadn’t seen in
years
. When I walked in,
the house was filled with people. My Aunt Hattie Mae and Uncle Bryant were
sitting on the couch when I walked in.

“Chardonnay!
Girl look at you.” said My Aunt
Hattie.

“Hi, what y’all doing here?”

“You sho’ look like one of those models.” said My Uncle Bryant.

“You ain’t heard? I guess not, you haven’t been home all weekend
girl! Your Pal pal is in the hospital.”

I shook my head.

I walked on in the kitchen to find my mother, and guess who was
with her. Myron. His eyes glanced over me with a subtle wanting and animosity.
My mother never noticed me come into the kitchen as she babbled on about me,
using slurs and slangs that I never heard form in her mouth or on her worse
day. And she had a lot of those.

I stepped in the room with caution as I knew what kind of scene
may play ahead once she became aware I was present.

“Hi.” Myron said turning away and placing his milk filled glass my
mother had given to him down on the counter. I knew she had given it to him
because for the last fifteen years she had been pouring Myron a glass of his
favorite drink every time he came over. She turned her head slightly and
swirled around,

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m your child mother! And why didn’t you tell me about Pal pal?”

“Hump!
You running those tough streets thinking you
can make it—I would think you were smart enough to check things on your own. No
one told you to run away from this house—when you did that you no longer need
be family!”

Myron stood back as she continued.

“I can’t stand to look at you! With your fast ass! Look at you!
And you call yourself my daughter, leaving this man here with tears in his eyes
because he loves you!”

People began to gather in the kitchen. I stared at the floor as
she continued,

“You make me sick and to think I gave up everything to take care
of—of the mess you’ve caused.” Her eyes were red and it was obvious she had
been crying all night. My daddy rushed in the kitchen to try and calm things
down but it was too late. I lounged after her and Myron pulled me back.

“I hate you!” I said crying as he restrained me.

“You have
never
 
loved
me! My Pal Pal has been the only person to ever take up for
me in this family and you know it!”

“Well I disown you!” she spat back.

“Daddy how could you let her do this!” I hollered at him.

Even he followed her rules.

“Baby—I —I’m sorry.” he tried to get out before my mother broke
loose and began to throw fish in the frying pan naked.

“Stacey, baby those fish aren’t breaded.” he warned her.

“I know
,
we come in this world bare and
innocent. Fish...the sign of life coming. Mare Davis brought these over this
morning, before I had to call an ambulance for daddy. She said her husband
caught too many. I knew then. They say, you dream about fish or they come at
the crack of dawn. Someone’s dying and a new life will be born.”

My daddy rubbed my mother’s back as she shed tears. Gave her that
rich, rare, unconditional love I had never seen except with them. They never
saw my pain as I left out the kitchen. Myron followed. As much as I wanted to
put him on blast in there I didn’t bother. She wouldn’t have ever
believe
me anyway. His image was too big to tear down.

“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 natural. 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 and 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,

“How could you know her if you ain’t nevah seen her a day in your
life!”

I was dumbfounded.

“Wha—what?
I have seen her before...when I was two,
twelve, and...
ye—
yesterday....” I walked over to the
table to sit next to my youngest Aunt, Tempest. Like a sheer calm over the room
my grandmother entered without making one noise. She walked over to me and
said,

“What do you know about her?”

I looked up at her and said,

“She’s my mother’s twin...”