STRINGS of COLOR (24 page)

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. Sorry for having waited so long." Naya broke down in tears.

As Jonathan listened to the sincerity of his mother's plea, it was the first time he felt as if he finally understood. He finally understood what color Jazzmyne is. In her were the colors of love, the love of a mother for the love of her son.

Jonathan stood up and walked over to her. He wiped away the tears from her eyes.

"Thank you. I forgive you from here." He touched his heart.

She wrapped her arms around him. It was the first real embrace of a journey they would share as mother and son.

Naya watched as Jonathan left. She sat on the coach and thought about all the talks she and Chris used to have on it.

She remembered how he used to say that "life makes us unique, tragedies give us our character, bumps and bruises give us our strength and the falls—they help us to build within ourselves the material that gives us the courage to continue fighting."

I'm fighting baby, I'm still fighting
.

Naya walked over toward the phone.

"Sam, its Jazzmyne. I'm coming in, should be there in an hour or so."

"Yes, ma'am. We will have everything ready when you get here."

"Thanks."

Exactly an hour later, Naya's car pulled up to the front doors. A middle-aged man wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and gym shoes rushed out to greet her.

"Everyone is here."

"Thank you, Sam."

Naya walked slowly through the doors; the last time she had been here, Chris had been with her. Now she would forever walk through those doors alone.

Once she was inside, her feet stopped. They almost turned around but she could hear his voice. He would have said, "Stop worrying, music is your second heartbeat. It's what runs through your blood and flows out through the tips of your fingers. People can feel your music. It's like a mother's touch. It helps them breathe; it helps you live. Now get in there and exhale."

Naya stood behind the microphone. She wrapped the length of her fingers around it. Her heart listened for the rhythm of the beat to flow through her. Her bones started to tingle, her lungs began to awaken, and she began to breathe through her pain.

She could see her husband's smile. She could feel him in her heart.

As I stand I hear nothing

Not even the silence inside of me

I can't find the tears

To even shed one drop

I see you baby, I see

The years built up inside of me

I know it's going to get better

They say the sun will dry up the pain

I feel inside of me

I wonder when

How long

Must this sorrow seem to overwhelm me?

There goes a teardrop

From one corner of my eye

Where is the sun to dry it up and

Stop the other side from destroying me

It's going to be a better day

Was a song I heard just yesterday?

I remember thinking it wasn't referring to the

Loneliness locked inside of me

Can you feel the wind?

Blowing against my skin

Trying to move me to face even

A glimpse of the pain from within

I feel another tear

Sliding down my cheek

I reach out my hand

Longing for your touch again.

Just another teardrop

It's going to be a better day

Was a song I heard just yesterday

I remember thinking it wasn't referring to the

Loneliness locked inside of me

Perhaps some of the sorrow

Will leave from within me

Just another teardrop

Running down my skin.

She allowed her tears to hit the microphone and slide down through the crevices of her hands. Her hips began to sway.

It's going to be a better day

Was a song I heard just yesterday

I remember thinking it wasn't referring to the

Loneliness locked inside of me

Perhaps some of the sorrow

Will leave from within me

Just another teardrop

Running down my skin.

With each note that she hit she could feel the layers of sorrow hitting the floor. She was looking for her way, looking for a way to say good-bye.

I see you baby, I see you

I see the years of us built up inside of me

I know it's going to get better

They say the sun will dry up the pain

I feel you inside of me

There goes my pain

Another tear drop of sorrow

Another raining day

Just another teardrop

Running down my skin

It's going to be a better day

Was a song I heard just yesterday

Here I am baby. Here I am
.

Longing for your touch again

Just another teardrop

Running down my skin.

When Naya walked out of the studio the crisp wind of the evening caught and held her attention. She opened up her arms and allowed it all to soak in.

"Home, Mrs. Naya?"

"No." Naya reached in her purse and produced a small sheet of paper with an address on it. She handed it to the driver and leaned her head back against the leather seat.

Thirty minutes later she was standing in front of the door downstairs.

"Who is it?"

"Naya Monà."

Simone stood at the speaker unable to say another word. Her fingers were trembling as she hit the buzzer to let her up.

She ran to her bedroom and stood in front of the mirror. Her nerves were all over the place.

I can't believe she's here. Am I ready for this? It's too late to answer that now
.

She checked her hair. Threw off her blouse and put on a nicer one. Searched quickly for a pair of shoes and slipped on a pair of dangling earrings. Dabbed her lips with a deep pink lipstick and splashed eyeliner around the crevices of her eyelids. Pulled her hair up and threw on a matching necklace.

This isn't a date, Simone,
she said to herself as she checked herself once again in the mirror.
No, it's something more. This is you meeting your mother for the first time, your famous, multi-millionaire, platinum record, jazz, R&B, recording superstar—mother.

She put on another blouse just as she heard the knock at her front door.

Here goes,
she whispered as she reached out and opened the door.

They stood there staring at each other.

"Can I come in?"

Simone was embarrassed. She stepped out of the way and allowed Naya to enter into her narrow hallway.

"It's small but I love it."

Naya smiled as she followed Simone to the sofa.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you." Naya could see how nervous she was.

"I remember you." Simone said after forcing herself to say something.

"You do?"

"Yes, ma'am. I remember that day you came to JK's apartment with your…"

"With my husband, Chris?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Naya. Please call me, Naya"

"Naya," Simone repeated after her. She could feel her legs shaking, she was sure Naya could hear them as well.

Naya reached over and grabbed Simone's hand. She stared into her green eyes and then lingered for a second on Simone's thick hazel brown hair.

My goodness, how much she looks like me
,
a younger version of course, but still me
.

"I would comment on how beautiful you are, but that might sound a little vain."

They both laughed. Naya felt her relax some and she removed her hand.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your husband."

"Thank you. That's why I'm here."

"I don't understand."

"I want you there. I want you to come to the funeral. I know this isn't the way we should meet but it would mean so much to me if you came."

Naya stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. She saw her CD cover lying on top of the stereo. She picked it up and stared at the cover.

"I remember when I recorded this one. I was with a group called—the Coppers, at the time. Man that was such a long time ago."

"I don't know if I can call you mother."

Naya placed the CD back where she had gotten it and turned toward Simone.

"Monà will always be your mother. I'm not here to change that. I'm here just to get to know you, to be a part of your life from this point on. I can't change the past Simone. It is what it is, but this moment, right here and now, I can handle that."

"I think I've always dreamt of this moment, even before I knew. I grew up listening to your songs. I always felt like there was a connection that I didn't know how to explain. I know I should have come see you sooner but I was…."

"You were afraid. I know. I was too. Fear cripples us. It causes us not to move forward. Not to experience the life we could have. That's the other reason why I am here, to face the fear, the fear of you not wanting me in your life."

"I need you in my life. I'm getting married."

"I know. I am so happy for you. Love is a precious thing." Naya walked over and sat next to Simone. She grabbed her hand again and stared into the reflection of her eyes. "I'm going to tell you something, something I pray you will always remember.

"You've got to hold on to love. You've got to grab it and you have to fight to never let it go or let anything or anyone come between you and it. Tomorrow, I will bury the love of my world, but I will not bury our love. You see, it still breathes inside me. Burns like a flame and I will never let it go out. Not ever.

"I don't know much about your love, but I see him in your eyes."

Simone smiled through her tears.

"So, you will come to the funeral tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"And you will bring your love with you?"

"Yes ma'am."

Naya gave her a friendly glare.

"I mean—yes, Naya."

"Good. I will see you then in the morning. My assistant will call you with all the details."

Simone watched as Naya walked out of her apartment. She felt like a little girl with a big secret to tell. She sprinted to the phone to tell Carl.

"Shall I take you home now, Mrs. Naya?"

Mrs. Naya Monà Wesley. That will always be my name
.