Page 5 of Rebound

“Come on. My driver’s outside.”

Chapter 3

Layla

“Gaga, come on,” I say to my grandma. “You have to get in the tub. It’s nice and hot just like you like it.”

I try not to let my irritation show. If she knows I’m angry, this will take three times as long. I was supposed to be at the courthouse thirty minutes ago for the adoption ceremony. I took a day off just to attend, but my mom got called into work, and Gaga is having a really bad day and could not be left alone.

After wrapping the soiled sheets in a plastic trash bag and putting them in the trash bins outside, I return to the bathroom. She’s still not in the shower. She’s standing there naked and peeing on the floor.

“Stella, why are you home so early? Did you sneak out of school again? How are you supposed to graduate when you keep skipping your classes?” She steps in the pee on her way out of the bathroom, but I manage to wrap my hand around her thin wrist.

“I’m not Stella, Gaga. I’m Layla,” I say, even though I know correcting her won’t matter. Not when she’s in this state. “But you need to bathe so I can put you in a pretty dress.”

“Your father is going to take me dancing,” she says. She starts to sway and hum in the bathroom.

“Let’s get you ready.” I refuse to correct her again. She takes a few steps closer to the tub, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I manage to get her in the warm bathwater.

My mom was supposed to be home in time for me to make the ceremony, but she’s still not here. Grandma had a horrible day, and I could not get her to settle down. Normally, if she was having an off day, I’d leave her with the neighbor across the street until Mom gets back, but she was in such a state today that I couldn’t leave her. I can’t do that to my neighbor. I’ve also noticed that when she’s this bad, she should remain in a place that she’s familiar with.

I’m sure I can still make the reception if I can get her cleaned and dressed. I also have to remake her bed. Thankfully nothing leaked onto the mattress. She closes her eyes while I wash her body. This is when my tears would threaten to fall. My grandmother has always been in my life. My parents divorced when I was four, and I have no memories of them as a couple. Mom and I moved into Gaga’s house. My grandfather had passed away, and Gaga was alone. We’ve been here since. She’s bathed me countless times. Cooked my meals and helped me get ready for school. When Mom was working, Gaga would be the one who would go to parent-teacher conferences. She’s a brilliant woman who is a wizard with numbers. She’d help me with my homework. She made my Halloween costumes and was there for every major event of my life. Now, she’s a shell of the strong, kind woman who helped raise me. Some days she’s almost like her old self, but those days are getting fewer and further between.

“I want to put on my red dress. That’s your father’s favorite. And I want a flower in my hair. Either a white rose or a daisy. Those are his favorites. He always tells me how pretty I look.” She starts to hum and sway in the bath water. I feel tears in theback of my eyes, but I blink them away. She’s been like this since she woke up this morning.

“You look really pretty in red, Gaga,” I manage to choke out. “You’re going to be the prettiest woman there.” The humming continues and she closes her eyes. I grab the removable showerhead, turn it on, and start to wet her hair. The humming stops, and her eyes fly open. While I reach for the shampoo, she knocks the showerhead out of my hand and it hits me in the face. I’m pushed back and land on my ass in the small bathroom.

“Gaga,” I yell. I touch my left cheekbone, and it stings. When I look at my fingers, there’s blood on the tips. “Shit,” I whisper.

“No,” Gaga says. I get my wits about me and get up. By the time I turn off the faucet, my grandma has splashed water all over the floor as she thrashes around the tub.

“I have to wash your hair, Gaga. Grandpa’s gonna pick you up and he’s going to—”

“I said no! I don’t want to—” She doesn’t finish her thought. She splashes more water and some hits me in my face and saturates a portion of my hair. The hair that took an hour for me to do.

“Goddamn it,” I whisper, completely soaked now. I trip and almost fall again as I walk to her. “Let me finish so you can look pretty,” I try to coax her, but she’s not having it. She starts to cry in the tub, and I’m lost as to what to do.

Then I hear the front door open and quick footsteps.

“In here,” I yell, so happy to have some help. “Mom!”

“Not your mama,” a deep male voice says. My cousin bursts through the bathroom door. “What the fuck, Lay,” he says. He looks down at the puddle on the floor and back at our grandmother.

“He’s here,” Gaga says, “ready to take me dancing.” Gaga starts to sway again. “I’m almost ready, Paul. Stella’s gonna do my makeup.”

“I’m always here to see my favorite girl,” my cousin Julian, also known as June Bug, says.

“Lay, I know how to make a bed. You go get cleaned up so you can go meet your friends,” June Bug says. My mom called him for help, and he rushed here straight from work. Gaga is sitting in the living room, wearing a red house dress. She never let me wash her hair, but I did put a white plastic rose in it.

“You’re the best,” I tell my cousin. I leave them in the living room to get ready, but when I see my reflection in the mirror, I look like a hot mess. There’s a bruise from where the shower head hit me in the face. A portion of my hair is still soaked. That part irritates me more than the bruise since I spent hours at the salon yesterday after work and took extra time to style it today.

I dry it as best as I can and use the flat iron to give it some shine. Since it’s July in New York City, I decide on a yellow dress that comes to my knees. After finding a pair of white sandals, I return to the living room and my cousin dances with my grandma. She’s in his arms and has her eyes closed as they slow dance, but no music is playing because noise agitates her.

“Get out of here,” he whispers, “and tell your friends thank you for me.”

I kiss him on the cheek and leave. June Bug is seven years older than I am. He’s the son of my mother’s brother, and he’s always been my protector and friend and has played the role of parent when I needed one. There were times when he’d walk me toschool. If any kid was ever mean to me, he’d show up at school and stare them down. That’s all it ever takes with him. He also had no issues playing Barbies with me for hours when I was a kid. There was never a time in my life when I needed him and he wasn’t there.

He’s been in trouble a few times, but he says he’s rehabilitated now. I think dodging a felony conviction scared him straight, and now he has a job with the hotel chain I work for. When your best friend marries into the family who owns the biggest hotel chain in America and abroad, they can pull special favors for you. I posed the question, and June Bug had an interview three days later. He started three weeks after that.

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