Page 25 of Mahogany 2
“Aw shit, he about to put us to work,” Auntie Toni said.
“Either y’all cook or Luna hire a catering service,” I told them, and they groaned just like I expected.
“I don’t want no damn caterer,” Mama mumbled. “Y’all muthafuckas can’t cook for me? After all the shit I don’ did for y’all?”
“Na, ain’t nobody said that, Niecy and you know it,” Auntie Majorie butted in. “Toni, yo ass ain’t gotta worry about a thang!”
“I ain’t gotta worry about a thang? Who gon’ make the dressin? Yo ass shol’ can’t!” Auntie Toni shouted back. “Dry ass dressing. Don’t nobody want that or that grey ass potato salad!”
“You’s a fat ass lie!” Auntie Majorie yelled. “My potato salad good. Tell her ass Lew. And it ain’t no got damn gray.”
“Shol was the last time?—”
“I don’ told you what?—”
“Aight, aight. Look,” I cut in, massaging my forehead.
Luna was right not wanting to deal with these crazy muthafuckas. It was about ten of them and all they did when they got together was talk shit and argue. The love was there though and could be felt through every bite of the food. I fucked with them. Just wished they could work together better. It would be a beautiful thing, putting them in a real kitchen together. But I wasn’t in the business of making bad business moves so I pushed that idea out of my head the minute it came to me about five years ago. I didn’t do business with any of them for real. Orion and Rahmir were where I drew the line. The rest of them had to figure it out on their own. Had they had the right mindset, they could’ve come together with the restaurant idea before I was born but… niggas.
“Cooking,” I said with a pause. “It has to be done in a particular way so I was thinking… it would help a lot if y’all stayed at the compound for two days.”
“Two days?!” Uncle Moe complained. “How I’ma get my shit? Ol’ boy ain’t travelin’ across eight mile to?—”
“Unc,” I interrupted. “On my soul I’ll grab you a pound as soon as we done.”
With raised brows he said, “Don’t lie to me, lil’ nigga.”
“When have I ever lied?”
He didn’t say anything. Just crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.
“Anybody else need anything? I got y’all on everything. Food, utensils, drink, whatever. I won’t have y’all out there dry.”
“I can’t stay with these muthafuckas for two days, nephew,” Uncle Lew complained.
“Youcan’t stay withusfor two days? Nigga, if you don’t shut yo’ shitty ass up!” Uncle Larry yelled.
“Look son, whatever you need for my wife, they gon do it. And with a smile,” Pops said before leaning over and kissing moms on the cheek. “Ain’t that right?”
They mumbled, “Mmhmm.”
“You know we got you, Niecy, baby girl,” Uncle Larry spoke up.
She nodded with a smile, and I gripped her shoulder, shaking my head. She placed her hand on top of mine and gave it a little squeeze, thanking me without words.
After finishing up at the house with the family I left, headed in the opposite direction of home. I didn’t have anything else to do. It was a little early, but my day was practically over, and I was ending it the same way I had for the past five years. With a visit to my daughter. It would be weird to say I was heading to my favorite place but essentially I was. It wasn’t about where I was going, it was about who I would be spending time with.
Pulling up at the cemetery gave me the same feeling every single time. Didn’t matter if I sparked a blunt on the way up—the pain in my chest was a constant. I was a practical nigga. Receptive to what reality threw at me. I didn’t fight against the current. Didn’t complain. Let life, life how life had to life. But this? This shook me to my core. Visiting my dead daughter, thinking of the time we didn’t get to spend. Before, I didn’t question God. Never had to. But when she died… when things went left and I couldn’t do anything to fix what happened, I lost it. Hated God. Questioned Him every day still. She was two. Hadn’t even experienced life. Had just got to this bitch and was taken before she could even talk good. I felt cheated. Defeated. Defeat and helplessness for a nigga like me was detrimental to my mental. I didn’t lose. There was nothing out of reach for me.I got what I wanted. Life was easy to go with because it bended to my will.
But when that happened? When I was presented with a battle I couldn’t win? When things were truly, completely out of my control, I felt hopeless, and I’d never felt that a day in my life. I was lost. Confused. I scrambled daily before her heart stopped, trying to fix it. Hired the best physicians, team… you name it. Nova Raycouldn’tdie. I needed someone to fix it. To tell me that she had a chance. I spent days trying to win a battle that was clearly impossible to win. Nova drowned and was out too long before they were able to resuscitate her. She had extensive brain damage. Even if her organs didn’t fail, with the amount of brain damage she had, she wouldn’t have been herself. The shell… her body… what made Nova Ray who Nova Ray was, was gone well before her organs failed.
Before getting out of the car, I grabbed the bouquet of pink roses I picked up on the way in. The walk up to the playhouse—yes, playhouse—was a hard one. Didn’t matter that she’d died five years ago, like I said… the pain was a constant. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her. I wanted my daughter more than anything in the world. Literally… anything. If there was a way to exchange all of my success and riches for her, I would do it in a split second. Probably was a bold statement to make, considering I could make another child but… she wouldn’t be Nova Ray. I didn’t want anymore. Even thinking about it made me uncomfortable. She was my one and done—literally.
I unhooked the gold chain from around my neck and used the key attached to it, to unlock the door to the house. Taking a deep breath, I walked inside, heavy with emotions. It was our idea to build her a playhouse. Me and her mothers. She had one at the house, so it was only fitting for her to have one here too. Putting her in the dirt was a no-go from the start—she was always gettinga mausoleum. But because my baby girl deserved the best at every stage of life—death included—she got the best. There were toys, a small couch, and a tea party set up over in one of the corners where I sat the most. I spenttimehere. Hours. Talking, reading, and sometimes playing too, as if she was right with me.
Tonight, instead of sitting at the tea party table, I grabbed one of her favorite books—Good Night Moonand sat on the couch to read it to her.
The next morning,I woke up before my alarm. Laid there a minute with my fingers interlocked behind my head, eyes to the ceiling, mind on Nova Ray. Leaving the burial site always left me with ill feelings that usually seeped into the next day. I didn’t like it, but it was what it was. Wouldn’t stop visiting just because I was left with a bigger hole in my heart. A hole I had to patch up every single time. I did that by sitting in silence. As crazy as it might’ve been, I did it by visualizing. Thought about her growing up. Thought about getting up to take her to school. Shit like that. And it worked. Fantasizing about a life with my daughter. A life I’d never get to live. But for a moment… for a good fifteen, twenty minutes it felt real.
