“Whatever, mister, it’s time. Don’t look like my man coming home tonight, but you can’t stay here no more.”
“Well, thank you for your hospitality,” Raphael said as he shook Shirley’s hand and high-tailed it out of the door.
“You can always come back on a better day!” Shirley hollered. “I can throws down in the kitchen and the bedroom, too. You know the address.” Then Shirley shut the door.
Raphael picked up the phone and could hear Mimi laughing. “It’s not a laughing matter, Mimi. I’m coming out to the sidewalk.” Raphael clicked the phone off and inched his way from the side of the house to the sidewalk. Looking left, he could see people milling about, and to the right he saw the headlights blink—one, two. Risking everything, he ran like his pants were on fire.
Reaching the car, Raphael jumped in and John pulled away from the curb, making a U-turn.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. Someone was killed tonight.”
51
Daybreak ushered in a beautiful sunrise. Brenda lay face up in bed, her eyes focused on the oak ceiling fan that looked like a gigantic upside down palm in the middle of nowhere. Her mind raced and then drifted in a thousand directions as the events of yesterday descended upon her like an instant replay.
Her heart ached for Asia and Trevor having to hear that the father they adored—at least for most of their lives—had been unfaithful and had fathered Asia’s best friend, Afrika…their sister. Brenda wasn’t sure what would become of the friendship, but by all accounts, it was now strained. And her brain moved to the next stop.
The gall of Mimi’s husband, showing up on her doorstep in an attempt to try and find Victor. Who in the world did he think he was…the President of the United States? Did he really think he was going to come into her home, Victor’s home, and do bodily harm? He had some nerve, but Brenda also admired him because he had the backbone to stand up and confront the enemy…to protect his family in the face of conflict.
It was time to rise and Brenda sat up, bringing her legs over the side of the bed. In a circular motion, she rolled her head to one side and then the other, finally stretching her arms upwards. Then she stiffened, her neck locked into place with her ears pointed in the direction she believed the slow sing-song melody flowed. There it was again, but Brenda, now alert, recognized the tone of her doorbell.
“Trevor, are you up?” she called. There was no answer. Of course, he was up and gone to school. Although Asia had spent the night, she had probably left for campus, too. There was no need to call out to her. The doorbell rang once more.
Brenda looked back at the clock. It was eight thirty-one. Who in the world would be ringing her doorbell this early? Maybe Victor decided it was time to show his face, but she’d be damned if she was going to the door and let him in. He still had a key; however, the only way Victor would get through the door, even with a key, was if he crawled on all fours and begged.
There was silence. Brenda realized the doorbell had stopped ringing, but she heard voices. She sprung from the bed, grabbed the pink satin robe that lay at the foot of her bed, and tiptoed to the door. Asia was still here, but Brenda couldn’t hear the conversation that was taking place downstairs.
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooo! Noooooooooooooooooooooo! Oh my God. Mother!”
Brenda wrapped her arms around her chest and began to shake. The blood-curdling scream paralyzed her and kept her from responding.
“Mother!” Asia screamed.
From the safety of her room, Brenda listened to Asia’s screams. Dread and panic constricted her throat as images began to run rampant through her brain. Asia’s screams could only mean bad news and the thought of what was at the core petrified Brenda.
Heavy footsteps pounded the stairs. “Motherrrrrrr!” Asia shouted again.
As if her strength returned with a quickness, Brenda jerked the door open. “What is all that screaming about?” Brenda inquired, afraid to look into Asia’s face, fearing the words that might fall from her mouth.
Wet from crying, Asia stood in front of her mother’s bedroom door. She looked like a zombie who had awakened from a drug-overdosed stupor. Then Asia began to whimper and reached for Brenda. “Daddy…Daddy’s dead,” Asia finally said, placing her hand over her pounding