Page 130 of The Woman Left Behind

“He wasn’t as tough as all that, just worried about you.”

“He’s a good guy. I wish he’d find a great woman to marry and make babies so Ronetta won’t complain about it anymore.”

“And you’d get to spoil his babies,” Harry added.

“Well, there is that,” she replied.

Harry smiled as he remarked, “I think Sherise better get on that first.”

“What Ronnie doesn’t know is, Sherise doesn’t want kids. It’s kind of one of the reasons why she hasn’t found a man.”

“Why doesn’t she want kids?” Harry asked.

Lillian shrugged and tilted her head back so it was on his shoulder and she could look at him.

“She’s always been really ambitious. And she eats life. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say no to any invitation that came her way.” A small smile hit her mouth. “Except kids. But she’s up for anything. I think she just doesn’t want them to slow her down.” She pushed up just a bit and whispered like she was sharing a secret, because she was, “And don’t tell, but she’s been with someone for almost a year. It’s pretty serious. They’re looking at places to move in together. He doesn’t want kids either. This is why Sherise isn’t bringing him home to meet Ronnie and George. Because Ronnie will try to talk them into it. Oh, and also, so Shane won’t talk to him outside and scare him off.”

Harry chuckled.

She settled back in.

They lapsed into silence that was surprisingly comfortable.

Then she asked, “Do you think it would be weird to sleep with this letter under my pillow?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“You’re such a good guy, Harry,” she whispered again, this time, though, it wasn’t a secret.

They talked. They readjusted and got under the covers. Lillian smoothed the letter out under her pillow. Harry doused the lights.

They tangled up, and it took Lillian a while, but she finally fell asleep.

So Harry did too.

The next afternoon, in the small, mostly Black-attended Baptist chapel in town, it was standing room only.

Lillian had elected to have Sonny and Avery’s remains put in one urn, which from everything he’d heard about them, seemed apropos. That urn was on a pedestal at the front flanked by large, pretty autumn sprays of butterscotch mums, red gerbera daisies and big green leaves.

And sunflowers.

Off to the side stood a posterboard size picture of a handsome, auburn-haired man with his arms around a beautiful, blonde, green-eyed woman. They were outside. The sun was shining in their hair. She was bent double, her arms tucked to her front, her head back, her eyes sparkling, her gorgeous face full of laughter. He was behind her, bent into her, his arms wrapped around her, fingers curled around her wrists, looking at the camera, smiling.

She was wearing a sundress.

The pastor spoke of them as if he knew them, and Harry wondered if this was Ronetta and George’s church, or all of their church. He and Lillian hadn’t had time yet to discuss religion.

He’d wanted to stand off to the side, but Ronetta was having none of it.

This meant he was in the front pew between Lillian and Ronetta, George, Sherise and Shane rounding out their row.

When the pastor opened it up, numerous people came forward to share their love and amusing stories about Sonny and Avery, speaking with such respect and affection, it felt like the sixteen years had melted away and all they were relaying happened just last week.

When that ended, the choir in their robes stood up, and a young Black woman came forward as the pianist struck the first chords.

Lillian instantly tightened, sharing whatever this was, it wasn’t expected.

And then the young woman, accompanied by the choir, started singing “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.”

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