She could tell Inez was going back to the past, too. Inez stood and came by her side so they could both peer out the window together. She had crazy-good things to look back on, things to warm her soul when life got cold and real; her girlfriend didn't. In an odd way, despite all the trauma, she felt blessed. Damali said a silent prayer that Inez's future would make up for everything stolen from her girlfriend's childhood.
"How about if I peek at your princess?" Damali said. "I know she's more beautiful than her pictures."
"She is," Inez said, and then she slung her arm over Damali's shoulder.
They walked the short distance through the kitchen and living room, going down the hallway, and Damali took in all the things that made Inez's apartment a real home. A crooked picture on the wall. Dirt smudges from sticky little fingers marring the ivory-hued paint. A light blue carpet that needed vacuuming. An overflowing laundry basket. A faucet that dripped. Sanctuary, just like Mrs. Rivera's house had been.
Not perfect, but filled with family, love... Crazy sons, wild activities, drugged-out daughter, but laughs. A full house, a superstitious grandma that finally relented and gave her the a-okay from a vision. Damali smiled just thinking about the old dolls. It had a lot of things the compound had, as well as a lot of things it didn't.
Dinners that were a noisy gathering of people eating from plates while standing up because they had things to do, business to handle, all crammed in the kitchen, tossing beers to each other, talking shit, laughing, and laughing, and cussing each other out, coming home the next day after catting around... women falling by and sitting on the sofa to wait for some man like sparrows on a telephone wire, guarding their territory over whichever fine brother they were trying to hook up with. The kitchens were the same, in that way, but the living room was devoid of outsiders - a closed environment. Even though all of it was insane, part of her knew that she'd do it again any day. By comparison, Mrs. Rivera's house wasn't all that bad.
Inez pushed open the bedroom door, and in the middle of her queen-sized bed slept an angel. Damali covered her mouth to keep from gasping. She went to the side of the bed and knelt, watching the tiny body shudder with peaceful inhales and exhales. Unable to stop-herself, she traced the soft, caramel cheek, and brushed back the fuzzy, thick plaits twisted with multicolored, plastic barrettes. "Oh, God, Inez, she's so gorgeous."
There was no way to stop the new tears from forming in her eyes as she glanced up at her girlfriend who was beaming with pride.
"Job well done," Damali said, kissing the toddler's butter-soft cheek. "Well done." Then she stood, allowing her fingers to linger in the dark brown nest of cottony textured hair, and then tiptoed out of the room with her friend.
"I know you didn't like his lifestyle," Inez murmured as they walked down the hall with Inez's arm around Damali, "but you should have had one for Carlos. Mighta changed him a little?"
Damali felt her back stiffen. "You know how I feel about that," she said, trying to find the line between preaching and not offending her girl.
"Yeah, you're right," Inez said as they reentered the kitchen. "His lifestyle was dangerous, especially when he moved out and got his own place and moved up. Then, with your career..." She shrugged.
It hurt her soul that her girlfriend had so completely missed the point. You didn't have a baby for someone. Lord help her. A baby didn't change a man, nor did it seal a relationship, and that was the last reason you had one. A child wasn't a hostage, or a choker chain. New, innocent life wasn't supposed to be created for those reasons. Only the spirit could bind a person to another, and the mind had to clearly sort that all out in the flesh.
Damali suddenly felt tired. There were so many things she wanted to tell Inez's deaf ears. But tonight was not the night for that old debate. "He lived a dangerous life," was all she could say to terminate the discussion. Again, salt in the wound.
"It's a shame, though, that y'all never got a chance to hook up," Inez said with a yawn, glancing at the near-empty bottle. "Then, all his boyz got shot up bad, and then his brothers and cousins - man, the guys who assassinated them did them ritual-style. Wasn't right, closed casket funerals... their moms didn't even get to see them good before saying good-bye. I don't know whose money they jacked, but dayum. And they still can't find Carlos to bury him. That's messed up. Think he's - "
"He's dead. They all made a deal with the Devil," Damali said flatly, and kept her gaze on the television. "A lotta fine men went to waste."
She had to tune Inez out for a moment. Mentally retracing a path to the Rivera house one last time, she remembered how she stayed tight with Carlos and his people even after she'd moved back to stay with Inez for a little while. That part of it all really hurt. She'd watched Carlos climb the street-money ladder almost to the top, and then fall - hard.
If it hadn't been for Marlene tracking her down, hearing about what happened with Inez's uncle from the word on the streets, she would have lived with Inez as her sister till they were grown. If she hadn't told on her foster father, if he hadn't reached for her and drawn back a nub... if she hadn't been so outraged that she called everyone she knew in Inez's family to protect Inez by telling the truth, bringing the light to that dark, scary, secret shit going on over there, the guardians might not have found her. Not being found maybe wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe then she could have stayed with Inez and lived a normal life.
But then again, by being there, Damali also knew that, if vampires were looking for her, Inez and her whole family might have been turned. The universe had a perverse sense of humor. Damali poured the last of the wine into her glass as the television droned on and she and Inez sat hypnotized, watching nothing.
All of it was a closed circle, now she understood why. Inez's mom told all her people in Rio, and the male cousins mounted a revenge posse, stateside. Marlene's friends from overseas had heard about it... bullshit traveled all the way from South America to LA by the grapevine. One of Shabazz's old boys knew who was in the hit squad, and told him. Then one night while she was free-styling on an open mic, Marlene had walked up, gave her a business card, and a supposed record deal - if she would come and live with her, and get groomed while laying down tracks in her studio. Inez's mom had relented, because Marlene had credibility and money. Full circle. Yes, the universe was a trip.
Crazy... just like Carlos, Damali had to admit that she'd been seduced into a new lifestyle by the lure of the brass ring. Had left the safety of Inez's people's home to go on an adventure, and now it had become a roller-coaster ride she couldn't get off.
Suddenly she just wanted to go home.
Damali stood, totally sober. She embraced her friend who was like a sister.
"I have to go home and handle some business. You kiss your daughter for me, and tell her Auntie Damali is gonna send her something soon... and kiss your mom for me, hear?"
Inez nodded and hugged her tighter.
"I'll visit soon, and you know I always write."
"Stop sending money, girl. Hear?" Inez said, stroking her back. "You gonna be all right getting home safe this late?"
"I'll call you when I get in - but tonight is not the night anybody wants to start some shit with me."
"Damali, the world has gotten worse since we were kids and hanging out. I'm just worried. Don't start no shit with anybody tonight. 'Kay?"
She kissed Inez on the cheek. "Lock the door and say your prayers. You know me. I got this."