Page 61 of Have a Bear-y Little Christmas
Sometimes my son said strange things, sure, and he often used slang I didn’t understand, butman, Eva said the wildest things. And it seemed like she truly comprehended what she was actually saying. It was always the quiet ones.
“Death pit?” the auntie repeated with genuine concern. Strangely enough, it kind of made me feel better. It was clear some family members were closer than others, and some were little more than friendly acquaintances because of the distance between where they lived, which made me feel less like I stuck out like a sore thumb.
“It’s a small laundry basket underneath our crafting desk at home,” Addy answered without even looking up from her book. “It’s basically her jail for toys in trouble.”
“But why adeath pit?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I see...”
I didn’t know why, but something about the way the woman said that had me jumping to the girl’s defense. Eva was shy, and I didn’t want an off-handed comment to make her feel uncomfortable with how she played.
“You know,” I said cautiously, trying to keep my tone light. “I remember back when I used to play with dolls, I used to toss the Barbies who were in trouble under my bed. They would have to do a very specific set of ritual tasks to be granted freedom back to the rest of my room.”
Eva nodded sagely, but even though I tried to be very casual with my tone, the auntie got up with a slight bit of a huff.
“I don’t know, sounds to me like some of y’all have been ’round Peepaw and his political radio shows too much.”
With that, she left. There was a bit of awkwardness before Addy shrugged and went back to her book.
“Don’t you pay her no mind,” Jahmoni said. “You know how some of those old folks be. Just so sure the world’s gotta be one way and that’s the only way to live in it.”
“She sounds like she doesn’t play with enough dolls,” Eva said matter-of-factly.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “Maybe later, you and I could play together? You could introduce me to Miss… Miss Belle…”
“Miss Belle Savannah Caroline Scarlett Genevieve the Third. And actually, I dunno. I’m thinking maybe I need to stretch my legs later. Take a walk.”
“Oh, well we can do that too.” I resisted the ingrained urge to say something about burning off the extra calories that I didn’t need from all the holiday food. Although I had some lingering body issues from my childhood, I had no business passing any of that onto Remy’s children. They had a great relationship with food, and I didn’t want to spoil that.
“Awesome.”
“Once I’m done with this last braid, you’ll be good to go,” Jahmoni said, sounding pleased as punch, which made me that much more excited to see the braids. In addition to the two main ones that I could feel curving slightly, she’d done one around the edge of my hairline almost like a crown. Honestly, I didn’t even know I had enough hair for that.
“Thank you,” I said, “but there’s no rush. Right, Eva?”
“Honey, trust me. There is no rushingart.I take exactly as long as I mean to, and I mean to take exactly as long as I do.”
“Understood,” I said, giving a little salute that made several of the people around me chuckle. Even the teen across from me cracked a tiny smile, which was probably the equivalent of a standing ovation.
True to Jahmoni’s word, she was done in a few minutes, and when I stood to get some circulation back into my legs, she handed me a mirror.
Wow!I had been a bit self-conscious that my round head and soft features would make me look like a lightbulb with my hair so tightly pulled back, but that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, it emphasized my cheekbones and made my chin look a bit more proportional to the rest of my face.
“What do you think?” Jahmoni asked, the tiniest hint of self-consciousness in her voice.
“I love it.” I whirled and threw my arms open. It wasn’t exactly normal for me to hug strangers, but after she’d played with my hair for a little over an hour, we weren’t strangers anymore. “Thank you so much.”
Jahmoni got up and embraced me. It was such a warm, simple gesture, but it filled me with a wave of emotion that nearly brought tears to my eyes. Goodness, was I really that touch-starved? Or was it more than that? Was it that feeling of belonging that I was so worried about getting used to?
“I’m so glad you like it. Since you can’t really keep styles in that long with your hair type, maybe I could do one more before you leave?”
Ugh. The thought of leaving was like being doused with icy water, but I tried not to let it show, in case Jahmoni got the wrong idea. “Sure! I’d love that!”
“Then it’s a plan. And certainly not a way for me to hog you all to myself and suck out all your writing knowledge.”
“Editing,” I corrected her gently. “But trust me, it’ll take you a whole lot of time to do that.”
