“I’m not calling my father either,” I interrupted.
Gregory Keyes was married to Allison when he got my biological mother pregnant. Unfortunately for them, a tragic accident claimed the life of my mother when I was a toddler. I was forced to move in with a man more concerned with his next mistress and a woman who resented me for existing. As a result, I’d always believed they both considered mehisbiggest mistake, despite their assurances to the contrary.
“Why would I call him now anyway?” I asked. “He’s been a distant observer since I was born except when he needed Darrell’s family to get a government contract. All my life, he tossed out checks to make himself feel good while simultaneously making me feel like shit for surviving the car accident and making him accountable for his failure as a husband. There’s always something more important than me for him. His wife, his cars, his side pieces … I’d rather slice my hand with a piece of paper than ask them for anything.”
“What about Grandma Liv, though?” she said.
“I don’t want her to know about the mess I made of my life.” Especially since Grandma Liv had cautioned me against marrying Darrell. In fact, she was so against the union that she almost didn’t show up to the wedding. “Besides, she’s been sick. I don’t want to add more stress to her.”
Getting away from Darrell was partly why I made the move back to Michigan, and being around for Grandma was also a factor. We talked every week, and I’d visited as often as possible, but I knew my grandmother had recently had a hip replacement. And that wasn’t her only health concern. High blood pressure, diabetes, unreliable family, and years of working had taken a toll. I wanted to be close, to help in any way, and spend as much time with Grandma as I could.
Grandma had fought to be an integral part of my life, often inserting herself into disagreements between me and my parents. She was my saving grace, even bringing me to live with her when Allison convinced my father to send me to a boarding school in Colorado. I would do anything for the woman who’d never hesitated to be there for me.
Brianna squeezed my hand. “Don’t shut Grandma Liv out. I have a feeling she’d be angrier if you kept this from her.”
No doubt about that. Still … “I love Grandma, but she’s getting older. She could slip and say something to my father, and then he’d tellher, and all hell will break lose. And I don’t want them to know.”
At one point, it felt like Allison had made it her life’s mission to ruin mine. When I excelled at anything, she’d ride in on her broom, under the guise of being a concerned mother, and burn my dreams to the ground. Initially, I fell for it because I wanted—no, I needed—the connection. But my willful ignorance only lasted until third grade. After I won the coveted prize for most cookies sold in my scout troop, she’d ripped my heart out by refusing to let me go to camp. Instead, she’d sent me to a different type of camp. In New York. Couldn’t enjoy weekends with my friends because I had to go to finishing school to learn the social graces.
I still remembered the day she pulled me out of the public school to attend Detroit Country Day School. I thought it was the end of my life at the time, but it turned out to be my salvation because I’d met my bestie there, my tribe. People who’d remained integral to my life since the fourth grade.
I had bonded with Bri over our mutual love of Destiny’s Child. The day we met, we’d taken turns portraying Beyoncé during an impromptu mini concert in the school auditorium. My best friend knew my family, at least all of the members that mattered to me. She’d also seen firsthand the trauma Allison had inflicted and had a few battle wounds herself for sticking her neck out for me.
“You do have other family,” Bri pointed out. “Hear me out … I know you said no, but what about Ana?”
While my father never made it a priority to connect me with my mother’s family, Grandma ensured I maintained a relationship with my mother’s sister and extended family. Although Aunt Ana and her husband, Jax, were wealthy, and wouldn’t hesitate to show up for me, I couldn’t imagine hitting them up for a loan.
I shook my head, slicing a hand through the air. “Never.”
“Sis, you love her. She’d do anything for you.”
“I love her, too,” I told my friend.
“Mo?”
Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only child my father had with a mistress. My older brother, Moses, had been solid from the moment we met. Of course, he would help me, but … no. I loved Mo, but he would kill Darrell. Literally. “Bri, you know I can’t do that.”
Her shoulders fell, most likely in a mixture of pity and exasperation. “Albany, I—”
“No,” I repeated, this time an octave higher. “I’m not asking anyone for help.”
“Why be on the struggle bus if you don’t have to?” she countered. “You won’t call Grandma. You know she’ll help if you tell her the situation. Your extended family is wealthy. Ana always asks how she can help. Didn’t you just talk to her the other day?”
“We chatted about her grandbabies and cribs. Small talk,” I argued. “Catching up about random shit. Having an innocent conversation about baby showers and asking for a loan are two different things.”
Bri blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine, I’m just going to let you wallow in self-pity a little longer.”
I sat up straight. “I’m not—” I sighed. “Okay, so I’m wallowing.”
“And I’ma need you to stop that shit in two-point-two seconds. It’s way past time for you to get your shit together.”
Gaping at my friend, I said, “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.” I tossed a paper plate at her, missing her on purpose.
“I’m just sayin’,” she continued, “you would tell me the same thing. And youhave.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “You’re right. No more wallowing. Much.”
“I understand. Trust me. I don’t like asking for help either. But you don’t have to do this alone.”
