Page 78 of The Deadly Candies

The tenement’s narrow kitchen held the morning heat tight as a fist. Debbie listened at the door, waiting until the last echo of her father’s work boots faded, and went out the door. Only then did she step outside of her room. The floorboards creaked under her weight—new weight, she thought, her hand to her stomach before she caught herself.

“Mornin’, Mama.”

Claudia stood at the sink, her arms elbow-deep in soapy water, the steam curling the baby hairs at her temples. She turned, wiping her hands on her apron—the one with the frayed hem Debbie had meant to fix for her mother. “Hey, baby. You missed breakfast, but I can fix you somethin’.”

Debbie’s throat tightened. There had been a bit of throwing up lately. The idea of eating made her want to gag. Her mama’s voice was warm as grits, the same steady tone that had soothed skinned knees and teenage heartbreaks.How do I tell her this?

“You goin’ to the bakery today?” Debbie asked.

“Sure am.” Claudia’s eyes narrowed. “You wanna come? Get some work in with me?”

Debbie swallowed.Aunt Brenda’ll be there. Two shoulders to carry this news is better than one.“Can I? I, ah… wanna talk to you both ‘bout my future. School and such.”

Claudia’s spoon stilled in the dishwater. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“No, Ma.” The lie tasted like tin. “Just… made some decisions. Need y’all’s advice.”

Her mama’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Got a surprise for you.” Claudia dried her hands, leaning in like she was sharing state secrets. “Uncle Henry’s doin’ real good with Bumpy. Means your daddy and brother stay safe. We gettin’ a phone—right here in the kitchen.”

“Our own phone?” Debbie’s laugh came out too bright. “That’scool.”

“Thought you’d like that.” Claudia winked, but the gesture faltered as she swayed, bracing herself against the sink.

“Ma—?”

A drop of blood splashed onto the linoleum. Then another.

Claudia touched her nose, staring at the red on her fingers like it was a foreign thing. “Huh. Ain’t that strange.”

Debbie lunged for a towel. “Hold it tight. Do you feel sick? Dizzy?”

“Just tired, is all.” Claudia pressed the cloth to her nose, but her knuckles were trembling.

Debbie’s breath caught. Her mama wasneversick. Claudia was the woman who worked double shifts at the bakery, who carried coal up five flights when the super “forgot,” who stood toe-to-toe with landlords and cops alike. The bedrock of their family.

Watching the blood seep through the towel, Debbie felt the world tilt.Indestructible things shouldn’t bleed.

And as sudden as it began, it stopped. Her mother was guided to a chair. “I’m okay, baby. Feeling better already.” Claudia reassured her daughter. Debbie prayed it was so. Claudia smiled. “Let’s get ready and get out of here. Brenda, waiting for us at the bakery.”

“You promise you okay?” Debbie asked on the verge of tears.

“Stop fussing over me. Who’s the mama? Me or you?”

Debbie smiled, and Claudia was up and leading the way.

Kathy Sweets, Harlem New York 1949

Debbie handed the woman her change, fingers brushing against the baby’s tiny hand in its mother’s arms."Here you go. Thanks for comin’ to Kathy’s today—and for bringin’ this sweet angel.”Secretly, she prayed her own child would be a girl, though Matteo insisted it’d be a boy.

"Thank you,"the young mother said, herding her children toward the door, each clutching a treat from the kitchen. They were the last customers. Debbie followed, locking up behind them, flipping the sign toClosed, and killing the display lights. The staff had left at six. Now, all that remained was waiting for Uncle Henry’s pickup.

And the conversation she’d been dreading all day.

She found them in the kitchen—Aunt Brenda rubbing slow circles on her mother’s back as Claudia hunched slightly over the sink.

"Somethin’ wrong, Mama?"Debbie asked.

Aunt Brenda turned first, smiling, startled."No, no, just talkin’."

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