In My Sister's House (8 page)

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Authors: Donald Welch

BOOK: In My Sister's House
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“Yes!” an ecstatic, hand-clapping Nettie shouted, and she got lost for a moment, reading the text on the back of the case. She thought of calling June right back and telling her thank you and how much she appreciated the gift, but more important, her. But she decided against it after looking at her watch and remembering that there was no such thing as a quick call with June. She would thank her later, when she got home. In more ways than one.

Approaching the bar, Nettie noticed that someone had bumped the picture of Dutch that hung directly on the wall above the bar. The lopsided frame seemed to be hanging on by a thread; it looked as if a mere touch would send it crashing to the floor.

“I wish people would leave my shit alone!” Nettie said, annoyed. “This is my area. I don’t bother nobody’s shit, so they shouldn’t bother mine!” Straightening the photo, she continued fussing out loud even after the picture was returned to its rightful position. “Whoever it was, they better hope that I don’t catch ’em over here! Make me sick.” She bent down behind the bar to retrieve a few unopened bottles of Ciroc vodka, and did not notice that someone had quietly entered the club.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said.

Without standing up or missing a beat, Nettie matter-of-factly stated, “Sorry, baby, we ain’t open yet. Come back around eight o’clock, okay?”

It was Storm. She decided to tease Nettie by disguising her voice. “But I just want a beer or something,” she growled in a low voice, trying not to laugh.

“Well, get you some water!” Nettie snapped. “The fountain’s out in the front lobby. Now I don’t want to sound rude, but we’re not open now, shit!”

“I heard this was a classy, sophisticated joint and that the staff was
professional.”
Storm dragged out the word for dramatic effect. “That must have been before they hired you!”

Nettie, now really annoyed, stopped what she was doing and prepared to confront the stranger. She was in too good a mood for a verbal battle but
someone
needed to be put in their place.

“I know one thing, before I turn around you better haul ass …” Before she could finish she turned and saw that it was Storm. Tears quickly formed in her eyes as she lit up with joy. “Over here and give me a hug!” They both screamed in delight and rushed toward each other, arms spread wide open for an embrace.

“Hey, Nettie, gotcha!” Storm said gleefully as she hugged her old friend.

“Girl, you damn sure did.” Without letting her go she continued, “How did you get here? Did Skylar pick you up?”

Relaxing in the embrace but still holding on to Nettie’s hands, Storm told her how she’d wanted to surprise everyone.

“Girl, now you know I would have come and got you. What the hell’s wrong with you?” She playfully hit Storm on the shoulder.

“I know, I know. It’s okay. I’m here now aren’t I?” An excited Storm smiled and thought about how much she had missed Nettie.

“Lawd have mercy, look at you. You look good, Baby Girl.” Nettie’s eyes gave Storm a motherly once-over.

“I’m okay, Nettie, I’m okay,” Storm replied. There was a quiet moment between the two of them as Storm glanced around the place.

“Well, it sure is good having you back. Did you get all my cards and letters I sent? ’Cause if I remember correctly, I think I maybe got like, what, two or three from you the whole time you was down,” Nettie said as she stepped back with both hands on her hips, waiting for an answer or an excuse.

“I’m sorry, Nettie. You know I was never much of a writer. But I did send you a card for your fiftieth birthday. Did you receive it?”

“Bitch
, I know you crazy. You know damn well I ain’t fifty,” Nettie said, rolling her eyes. “I turned forty-seven and yes I did get that
one
ol’ cheap card!”

“I’m just playing, Nettie, you know that!” Storm said as she demanded another hug from Nettie. Nettie steered her over to one of the tables and they sat down and played catch-up.

“Nettie, I’m just so glad to be out of that place and I never plan on going back.”

“I know, chile.” Nettie shook her head. “Prison ain’t no joke. You
know I’ve been down that road. Shit, there was a time I was locked up more times than a bank vault.” They both let out a hearty laugh. “Shit, I don’t know where I’d be if yo daddy didn’t accept me off the street.”

Storm’s expression became solemn and her gaze drifted to the framed portrait of Dutch on the wall.

“Well, that stuff is all behind you now, Baby Girl.” Nettie tenderly rubbed Storm’s hand. Baby Girl was what Nettie always called Storm. Hearing that name again soothed and comforted Storm instantly. “You’re gonna work here, ain’t you?” Nettie asked.

“For a while, I suppose. I spoke to Sidney and he said there would be something available,” Storm added.

“Oh, that’s right. Well, let me run upstairs and get the new menus your sister had printed up.” Nettie stood, gave Storm a hug, and started to leave.

“Menus? Y’all selling food, too?” Storm asked as she scanned the club.

“Yeah, girl, just some little hors d’oeuvres and appetizers—shit like that. Your sister hasn’t decided on a full menu yet.”

“Sky’s doing it like Dutch, huh? Serving food like we used to when it was Morrison’s?” Storm managed a nervous smile.

“A little bit.” Nettie winked. “I need to run in the back and get a few more supplies, Storm. I’ll be right back. Settle yourself in. Your sister should be here soon.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Reaching the door that led to the second floor, Nettie suddenly stopped and turned toward Storm. “So glad to have you home, baby. You know, you and your sister are like family to me,” she said tenderly as tears formed in her eyes.

“I know, Nettie. I know,” Storm said and smiled at Nettie.

Storm decided to take a tour of the club. Checking out the decor and layout of the main room, she made her way over to the Legends wall with its photos and paintings of musicians and artists and actors. As her eyes scanned the wall, she zeroed in on another black-and-white photo. It was a picture of two little girls, holding hands
and smiling broadly at the camera—her and Skylar at age five. Dutch had taken the girls to Hershey Park, the amusement park outside Philadelphia, the summer they finished kindergarten. In one hand each girl was holding a few miniature Hershey’s candy bars; with the other hand they were holding on to each other.

No mistaking that these girls were twins. Although dressed differently, they had the same excited expressions on their faces. Even the way they were pointing their left feet and leaning back was identical. Storm remembered Skylar telling her that when taking a photo, you must stand like Janet Jackson. Janet was the only common interest the girls shared. They were both huge fans, especially after Janet released
Control
in 1986.
That’s how I remember
you
that day, Sky. Controlling
.

Storm touched the photo gently and laughed at the memory. At this moment, the door swung open and Skylar entered. She was on her cellphone and unaware that Storm was there. Although Storm didn’t turn around, the sound of her sister’s voice paralyzed her for a moment.

“Okay, so you’re saying we should expect the delivery of the tablecloths
and
the matching chair covers by tomorrow morning? Okay, thanks, bye.” Skylar hung up her cell, relieved that at least one headache had been cured. She was startled by the silhouette of the woman whose back was to her, facing the Legends wall.

“Hello, may I help you?” She couldn’t make out who the woman was because the limited lighting threw a shadowy edge over everything, but there was something eerily familiar about her posture. At that moment, Storm slowly turned around and stepped out of the shadows.

“Storm?”
Skylar’s eyes widened in surprise as she whispered her sister’s name.

“Hey, girl,” Storm answered. Neither one of them made a move or gesture toward the other. Their eyes locked and they both stood still for a few more moments. Skylar nervously broke the silence.

“When did you …? How did you get here? Why didn’t you call me?”

“Slow down, girl. Which of these questions am I supposed to answer first?” Storm managed an innocent smirk.

“You look good, girl. You look good.” Skylar smiled.

“I’m doing okay. Thanks,” Storm said.

“Where are all your things?” Skylar looked around Storm.

“Right over there.” Storm pointed to the table where she’d sat with Nettie earlier.

“Oh.” Skylar saw the lone tan duffle bag on the floor by the table and wished she had not asked. Skylar stepped a little closer toward Storm, but not too close. Just close enough for her to get a good visual of her sister.

Prison life had not been that kind to her. There was a hardness in her face and a sadness in her eyes that Skylar had never seen before. After a few more moments, Skylar informed her, “We have the guest room ready for you, and you’re welcome to use my car, you know, to help you get settled in and all.”

“Thanks, Sky, but I’m fine. I already have a hookup for a spot to stay.”

“Oh, okay, fine then.” Skylar wondered who the hookup was, but dared not ask. She really didn’t care.

Storm could tell that Skylar was happy. That she was in a good place in her life. Success, a good man—everything appeared
perfect
in Skylar Morrison’s life, which was in direct contrast to what Storm’s own life was like, to what it had been like for the last three years.

“Look like you’ve stayed in the gym, missy.” Storm gave her a once-over and smiled.

“What?” Skylar said coyly. She knew damn well she looked good. She didn’t need Storm’s validation. Working out and eating right had been a longtime practice of hers.

“Yeah, but it gets harder and harder to maintain, the older I get,” Skylar offered.

“Don’t I know it. I mean, we are the same age, right?” Storm laughed, and the statement drew surprising laughter from Skylar as well. Changing the subject, Storm brought up the job situation.

“Listen, I was wondering if you could spot me for a while. You
know, like a little job around here until I get back on my feet? The last time I spoke to Sidney, he said that he was sure that something could be found to do around here. Did he speak to you about it?”

“Yes, yes he did, and sure. Let me think on it. We can always use a little help around this place. Let me talk to Nettie. She’s more involved with the day-to-day operations around here,” Skylar said. “Have you seen her yet? I thought she was already here…”

“She is, I saw her. When I came in she was over at the bar area fussing about something.” They both laughed.

“Well, as you can see, much hasn’t changed. She’s still Nettie,” Skylar declared.

“But that’s what we’ve always loved about her, right?” Storm’s voice lowered.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Skylar agreed. “So what are your long-term plans?” Skylar asked, folding her arms across her chest while giving her the eye. Immediately recognizing the familiar condescending manner with which Skylar approached a question confirmed for Storm that she was right: Nothing much had changed.

“Actually I’ve been thinking about taking a few culinary classes. You know, maybe becoming a chef.” Without thinking, Storm mirrored her sister, folding her arms across her chest and smiling at Skylar.

“Culinary school! Storm, you know you can’t cook!” Relaxing her stance, Skylar laughed.

“Don’t laugh, I can burn, girl!” Storm offered.

“Yeah, burn shit up!” Skylar added, still laughing.

“Naw, seriously, they have all these different kind of courses and trades in the pen. I assume they call themselves rehabilitating a sista!” she laughed. “But it was cool.”

Shaking her head in an approving manner, Skylar said, “That sounds good. Maybe you can even whip up one of your specialties around there. But you have to test it first before I’ll allow my customers to eat it.”

“Wow, it’s like that, huh?” Storm laughed.

“I’m just kidding. Seriously, I think that sounds great, and I am
glad you found something constructive to occupy your mind in there.” Skylar threw this out while walking across the room. Seeing a stack of mail on the table, she started sifting through it. Storm knew all too well that she was being dismissed. She thought of giving her sister a piece of her mind but decided against It …for now. There would be plenty of time for her to let Skylar know how she really felt.

“By the way, if last night was any indication of what tonight will be, we are expecting a huge crowd, so I need to get a few things together. Make yourself at home. Go in the kitchen, grab a bite to eat or do your culinary thing or whatever. It’s cool. I’ll be back in a few hours, introduce you to the staff, and we’ll move on from there.” Skylar said all of this without ever looking Storm’s way. One envelope seemed to catch her eye and she retrieved a letter opener from behind the bar.

“Okay, you need any help with anything?” Storm started moving toward her, but stopped short.

“We’re good. Thanks. Tonight, you just chill, sit back, and check out the show. I’ll have Nettie talk over a position with you tomorrow.” Then Skylar pushed the door leading into the kitchen, but not before Storm stopped her.

“Fine. Oh, by the way … Sky,” Storm called out to her.

“Yeah?” With her hand still on the door, Skylar still didn’t turn around.

“Thanks,” Storm said.

“For what?” Skylar slowly turned around and faced Storm.

“Hooking me up,” Storm said as she waited for a reaction.

“Sure thing.” And with that she nervously disappeared into the kitchen. All that was heard for a few seconds was the flapping sound of the door going in and out. Storm patiently waited for it to stop. She found herself alone. Just like she had been for the last three years. Without uttering a word, she smiled with the same devilish smirk she displayed to the hotel desk clerk upon seeing that roach go in her soda can.
You know what you have to do
.

On the other side of the door, Skylar leaned against the wall and
tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t sure if she was having a panic attack or a heart attack. Whatever it was, she was afraid. Where was Nettie? Sidney? Flynn? She was alone. “Think happy thoughts, girl, calm yourself down,” she managed to whisper. In a matter of seconds, she calmed down, but still felt hot. Unfastening the top button of her blouse, she fanned herself, trying to cool off as the sweat that had collected on her forehead in tiny beads evaporated and disappeared. Something she wished she could do.

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