Page 48 of Lily In The Valley
Khalil
The dreamalways started the same.
I’m six. Sitting on the carpet in front of the TV, eating a bowl of Froot Loops without milk. The colors blur on my tongue. The light from the screen flickers across the living room wall like we’re at the movies. My dad’s asleep on the couch behind me, one shoe on, one off. Exhausted from his night shift at the warehouse. His snores rattle like something broken inside of him.
And she’s in the kitchen. My mama.
Singing along to the radio, cracking eggs in a mug, her earrings swinging like wind chimes every time she turns. She’s singing “Before I Let Go,” the words sloshing out her mouth with a troubled kind of gaiety I didn’t understand at the time. Frazzled, strangled, not quite in tune with the harmonies of the song.
“Khalil, baby, go brush your teeth,” she calls from the kitchen, loose and wild. And I do. Because even in the unstableness of her voice, she always said it in a way that made me feel like saying no would hurt her feelings. And I never wanted to hurt her feelings. When I come back to the kitchen,the mug filled with eggs is on the counter. The oil in the pan on the stove sizzles. But she’s gone.
Just a hum of the fridge and the static echo of the song still playing from the radio. No one singing along to it. I walk over to the living room window and see the back of her walking toward a blue car. Her curly hair is wild. Her fair skin pale in the early morning sunlight. A blue bag is in her hand. No jacket. I don’t call for her. Don’t move from the spot by the window. My dad continues to snore on the couch, unaware that our world’s changed forever. I don’t understand it either, even as the car drives away, exhaust swirling into the air as they turn the corner.
And then–
I sat up, my heart pounding. The sheets were soaked. It took me a second to realize where I was. Kelly parents’ guest room. Still Houston. Still the day after Charisse died. The house too quiet, grief too real. Even the walls seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for us all to wake up from an all too real nightmare.
I rubbed my face, trying to scrape the dream off my skin, but it lingered. It always did. A knock on the door pulled me out of it.
“Hey,” Xavier said, cracking the door. “You up?”
“Yeah,” I said, sleep still coating my voice.
“How you feeling?”
I shrugged. He didn’t push. Just tapped the door in solemn agreement.
“Vivian made breakfast. Eggs, grits, sausage. Lisa brought some coffee.”
“I’m good.”
“You need to eat.”
“I said I’m good.”
He nodded again, leaning against the door frame. “You talk to Kelly? Nessa said she was silent all night up until we left.”
I shook my head. “Nah. When I checked on her last night, she was asleep.”
He watched me like he wanted to say something else. Then shrugged. “Everyone else is downstairs if you change your mind about breakfast. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nodded my head again as he left. I laid back in the bed, gathering my thoughts. My dream from last night lingered in my mind fresh, raw. As if it happened just yesterday. I rubbed a hand over my eyes, then headed to restroom to freshen up. Now wasn’t the time for me to sink into a dark place. Not when darkness shrouded my heart’s world.
Downstairs, the air was heavy with somber whispers. People pretending not to see Kelly and her father falling apart before their eyes. Douglass and a man named Trent were posted near the front door like security. Lisa and Vivian were in the kitchen, making plates for all the visitors, washing dishes as they went. Kenneth was pacing back and forth by Douglass and Trent, mumbling something about Charisse’s life insurance paperwork and her brother PJ. Nobody was listening.
Kelly was curled up on the couch between Nessa and Nyah. Lynn was close by, talking to Wesley. Kelly’s hoodie was pulled tight around her face, her feet tucked tight beneath her. Her eyes were swollen. I sat on the arm of the love seat across from her. She didn’t look at me. Vanessa glanced at me, then looked away. I knew I should say something. I just didn’t know what. I was not the only one. Everyone was trying to do something, anything, to avoid the fact that Kelly and Kenneth were tilting.
“I was dreaming about somebody cooking eggs. Now I know why,” I said with feigned lightness.
Nessa was the only one to respond. “It has to be this pregnancy, but these eggs are so good. I’ve had two plates.” Xavier walked over to hand her another plate filled with sausage, eggs, and fruit. “Make that three. You sure you don’t wantanything, Kelly? You need to eat something.” She pushed the plate to Kelly’s face, who turned her head the other way in a slow, exasperated motion. Her fists curled in the sleeves of her hoodie.
Lisa walked over and handed me a plate. I chose to eat on the back porch, the fresh air a nice break from the stagnant air inside. In the distance, rainclouds swelled. My phone buzzed as I took the first bite. A text from my dad.
Pops
How’s Kelly?
I started to type a response, then deleted it. Howisshe? Grieving. Silent. Gone without leaving. Just like Mama. I called him instead. When he answered, we were silent for a while. The kind that was not awkward. The kind that said,I got youeven if we don’t say it out loud.
