“Look, you keep that superstitious crap to yourself. I love MiMi just like you do, but—”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Lo scoffs. “You barely know her. Your comments prove that.”
My hurt swells and builds until it makes my eyes wet and my jaw clench. “Just because I didn’t live with her like you did doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”
“Whatever.” A door slams shut between us. We rarely talk about the circumstances which led to Lo leaving New Orleans and living with MiMi. I know it’s a sensitive issue. How could it not be? But all of a sudden, it feels like we should have talked about this more. It feels like something our family swept under the rug for years is about to break us.
“Lo, wait. This whole conversation has gotten out of control. Let’s . . .” I don’t know what.
“Let’s what, Bo? Start over?” Bitterness cracks Lotus’s voice. “Some things don’t get do-overs. Not some forty-year-old man taking your virginity before you even have your first period. Not your own mother choosing him over you and shipping you off to the bayou to live with your great-grandmother.”
That incident will probably haunt us both for the rest of our lives. It was the thing that took Lo away from New Orleans. She’d fight to her last breath for me, and I’d do the same for her, but I can’t form words to soothe her deep wounds. I don’t know what I can say to get us where we were before this awful conversation happened.
“But the joke’s on Mama,” Lo continues with a harsh laugh, “because getting away from her was the best thing that ever happened to me. I learned a lot that I never would have if I’d stayed in the Lower Ninth. Now, I can see when a man has a shadow on his soul, and I’m telling you that I saw a shadow. Do with that whatever you please.”
“It just doesn’t make sense to me, Lo,” I say, pleading for her to understand.
“Something’s off. I don’t know what it is, but it is, and I, for one, am not gonna sit by and watch you barter yourself the way our mamas did.”
I swallow the hot knot of hurt that almost chokes me. “Wow. Is that what you think I’m doing?” I ask, my voice pitched so low I barely hear myself. “What our mothers did? You think I’m like them now?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Lo sighs heavily. “I do think you could have done things a little differently, but I get it. It’s hard to think of doing things on your own.”
“That’s not why I’m here, Lo.” My voice assumes a hard edge. “Caleb is Sarai’s father.”
“Yeah, but not yours,” Lo snaps. “So why have you allowed him to dictate everything? To manipulate you into this situation?”
“Manipulate?” An outraged breath puffs from my chest. “I haven’t let him manipulate me. You were there. You know I was on bed rest. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t even leave the house. I had nowhere to go.”
“You don’t see it.” Her words ring bitter. “Just like your mother never saw it. Just like mine never did either.”
“How dare you compare me to them?” Every word lands somewhere it shouldn’t. On my heart. Through my soul.
“How are you different? Living off a man’s wealth to keep a roof over your head and clothes on your back. Fucking some rich man so he’ll provide for you.”
“Everything I’ve done . . . or not done . . . has been for Sarai, and you know it. I had so few choices. I’m doing the best I can.”