and in very strained circumstances we were revealing our scars.
Alvin offered up one of his prayers, something long and heartfelt that had Money pinching his arm because the food was getting cold. We ate breakfast in comfortable conversation, nowhere to go and nothing to run from. Afterward, we cleaned up breakfast and leisurely exchanged our presents in front of my paltry fire.
Lee Otis had already given Esther her earrings, but he gave me and his brothers each some playing cards and a cigarette lighter with our initials on them. I’d already given my gifts too—except Esther’s coat and her fur hat, which she modeled for us, prancing around the little sitting room, the hat at a rakish angle, her chin held high, hands on her hips.
She shoved a box containing a buttery soft, navy-blue sweater onto my lap, but she couldn’t even look at me while I opened it. I understood her distress. Presents with an audience was hard, and Christmas really was a huge pain in the ass. I modeled it, like she had done with her coat, my hands in my trouser pockets, spinning like I was on the runway, and my silliness took away some of the discomfort in her smile.
She had bought Money a pouch filled with fancy dice and a pair of cuff links in the shape of dollar signs.
“Oh, look. They say my name,” Money quipped, but he seemed pleased.
She gave Alvin a pair of sunglasses like Ray Charles had worn in Pittsburgh; Alvin had admired them repeatedly. Lee Otis received a puzzle with ten zillion pieces, which he promptly opened, spreading it out on the bare wood floor in front of the fireplace, not even waiting for the final presents to be exchanged.
“I want to finish it before we have to leave,” he explained.
“Where we going?” Alvin asked, sitting back and smiling, his new glasses in place.
“Tomorrow is the show, and we’ll be at the theater all day. After that, Chicago, right Benny?” Lee Otis asked.
“Right.” We were going to join the Motortown Revue on all their stops back to Harlem. I couldn’t have planned it better myself. We had a reason to go to Chicago now, just in time for the meeting of the commission.
“What day are you getting married? We’re doing that in Chicago too, right?” Lee Otis pressed. Unlike his brothers, he’d brought up the marriage several times and seemed insistent that it happen sooner rather than later.
“Don’t remind him, Lee Otis,” Money said. “He’ll take off and we won’t see him again.”
“He won’t run away from Esther, Money,” Alvin said, scolding him. “But he might run away from you.”
“License Wednesday, wedding Thursday?” I asked Esther. Of all the things that kept my stomach churning lately, marrying Esther wasn’t one of them. It should have been, especially since I’d never planned on marrying anyone. I’d actually decided against it. And here I was, putting it on the schedule without a question or a qualm.
She nodded once, just a jerk of her head, and swatted at Money, asking him to pass out his presents.
Money and Alvin had visited a record store at Hudson’s, and they’d made the find of the century. A 1930s collection of great performances from the Metropolitan Opera. Maude Alexander was listed among the singers and soloed on two tracks.
“It didn’t even cost much,” Alvin said, beaming. “We also found a bunch of records with Benny’s name on them. We got you an Izzy McQueen single, Benny. ‘Can’t Cut You Out.’ I haven’t heard that one. They had books there too. We got you a new book, Lee Otis. Like the one that got the cover ripped off. But this one’s got gold edges and a thicker binding.” Alvin babbled as everyone opened their gifts, unable to control his excited commentary.
Esther stared at her mother’s name, dumbfounded.
It had never even occurred to me to go looking for her mother’s recordings.
Esther pressed her hand to her lips to keep them from trembling, and everyone got quiet, even Alvin, whose enthusiasm turned to sniffles.
“Can we listen to it right now?” he asked.
“Where?” Esther whispered. “We don’t have a record player. And everything is closed.”
“We could walk down to the studio,” Lee Otis said. “I want to call Mama and Daddy too and wish them a Merry Christmas.”
I didn’t want to disturb Berry Gordy or his family. They deserved one day of peace and quiet, but we didn’t have many other options.
“I’ll bet the bar across from the diner on Twelfth