Page 29 of Pride and Protest
“Up,” Liza said more insistently, and Janae plopped her arm around Liza and stood up.
“Hangover,” Liza mouthed to David, who sat in openmouthed concern. She didn’t have time to think about how to tell them about Janae’s pain. Her loss seemed like something they could never understand. It struck Liza with a sad finality that the gap between their worlds was unbreachable.
They took the ride in unpleasant silence. David tried to engage Janae and made those types of jokes that Janae loved—dad humor, just shy of corny. Liza insisted he drop them off a block away, so the truck driver didn’t have to do any tricky maneuvering out of the neighborhood. The air was chilly and wet in a way that clung to the inside of Liza’s lungs, and the sky was still a tepid gray. David hopped out of the car and walked with them to the building awning. A wet brown leaf tousled his hair, and he didn’t correct it. They crunched through knee-high snow, hardened at the top with sleet. David was sweet and incredibly compassionate. An ungracious pang of jealousy shot through Liza at the type of attention her sister inspired. Perhaps if she were prettier, less prickly even, she could elicit that type of unquestioning devotion.
“Here we are. Thank you, David,” Liza said.
“Thanks,” Janae said. She sounded like a phone operator, distant and staticky and dispassionate. David nodded curtly, as if he were suddenly understanding something, and patted Janae’s back.
“You two are fine from here?” David asked, his eyes searching hers earnestly.
“Yes!” Liza almost pushed him down the street.
Janae gave him a weak and watery smile. “Keep warm,” she mumbled.
Liza hustled them inside and leaned against the door to the foyer. She exhaled and pulled Janae close to her.
It was the last the Bennetts would see of them for sure.
BUTTERMILK PIE
We have a special guest with us today! Longbourne’s own golden boy, Colin Gruthers.” Liza leaned on the applause button. “You may remember he was interviewed by Channel 4 when he won no less than four scholarships to top universities. I don’t remember which ones, but he certainly does and will let you know repeatedly exactly who he turned down to strive for the gold.
“He graduated middle of his class at Drexel. He is the author ofUp from Nothing: The Harrowing Tale of Escape from Southeast DC, for sale exclusively out of his trunk. He just recently won a bid for local office in Virginia. You can call him City Councilman Gruthers, but to me, he’s the same ol’ pain in the ass.” Liza leaned on the laughter button.
“Well, thanks, Liza. I appreciate the brief introduction. There are quite a few things that you left out of that intro, including the fact that I was geography bee champion in middle school and that I’m working on a second book entitledCan’t Hold Me Down: Getting to the Top with No Sacrifice.”
“Tell me, Colin, what brings you down here?” Liza used her bestcurious voice. In truth, she was in over her head writing the proposal for WIC, and Colin’s city council background had actually proved helpful. Now she owed him, and he planned to milk it dry.
“Oh, you know I like to come back occasionally to the place that raised me. Your own mother used to pack my lunch every morning. It’s good to see where you never want to go back. It makes you strive to do so much better.”
“So glad we could be a negative example for you, Colin,” Liza quipped. “I consulted Colin because I was drafting a plan to get more affordable housing in our city. I thank you for that, Colin.”
“Liza, anytime, anywhere, whatever you need, I’m there for you. You know, folks out there in radioland, I recently bailed her younger brother out of jail. If it was anyone else, I would have hung up the phone and said don’t call me back. But when Bev and her daughters need something, I come running.”
“And we can’t thank you enough. Literally. All right, folks, this is your chance to ask Longbourne Gardens’ own golden boy questions about success and failures. Hit us up!”
“Thank you, Liza. And congratulations on the station expanding your show to two hours.”
“Yeah, I have to find out who this mysterious donor is when I get next week’s commercial list.” Liza pressed the kissing-sound button. “There’s a big juicy kiss for you, Mystery Moneybags.”
“Okay, Liza, I will be around y’all’s way for that homemade buttermilk pie your mom loves to make for me.” He winked.
“Mom, you need to buy a buttermilk pie,” Liza said as she jimmied the key out of the lock.
“You look like hell,” Bev commented.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Honestly, the nap pod was the best sleep she had gotten in weeks, but that knowledge did not help her sleep better. Would she ever be that warm again?
“Mom. Buttermilk pie. You have, like, two days to buy it,” Liza said.
“Oh, Colin’s coming by?” Bev perked up.
Everyone in earshot groaned. Granny shook her head.
“Yes, he’s coming for his annual poverty tour,” Liza said. “It’s my fault. I hadonequestion.”
“You all need to hush. That boy made something of himself because of me. He listened to me when none of you did and now look at him.” Bev straightened her shoulders.
