CSI was on. Lark couldn’t care less. She wasn’t the least bit interested. Her television had been dark for days, and she’d turned it on now just to break the monotony of silence in her bedroom. She liked it better silent, so she clicked the television back off. Donovan was still in Jamaica with his parents. They’d spoken a few times, but with each call she felt further and further away from him. He’d tried her today; she hadn’t picked up.
She just wanted to stay in her room by herself.
No television, phone calls, music, food, showers.
Was she depressed?
Lark figured she had to be.
But who could blame her? Her best friend was…was…not herself. Lark couldn’t think of Kenya as damaged, hurt, wounded or injured. None of those words. Kenya just wasn’t her usual self. Yeah. That sounded all right. Felt okay.
Sleep.
That’s what Lark needed. She’d been getting plenty of it, but no matter how many hours she kept her eyes closed, it wasn’t enough. She’d wake up from a five-hour nap and find herself yawning within five minutes. Right back to sleep.
Sweet dreams.
At least she’d try for that.
She closed her eyes.
Prayed.
Asked God to make all the pain go away, if just for a little while. Asked Him to make her dream. Sweet dreams. God could be the director, like Spike Lee. She wanted to dream about the Delta party at school. Kenya blowing everybody away with her voice, her performance with Carolina and Tammy. That fine dude, JaMarcus, practically tripping over himself to get up in Kenya’s space.
The girls looking so fly in cream and crimson.
A Delta is what an Ah-ka ain’t, what a…
“You sleep?”
Lark’s eyes shot open. She squinted against the light that rushed in the room from the hall. Anger bubbled up inside of her. She was a finger’s width from having a sweet dream about Kenya. So close. And her mother ruined it. Typical. Lark felt like running away. Hitting something. Hitting someone.
Honey.
Her mother stepped in the room, left the door open behind her, let in light.
“Brought you some…”
Honey stopped in her tracks, set the plate of food she’d prepared on Lark’s dresser, moved to the wall, hit the light switch. More light invaded the room. Lark wanted it dark. Didn’t want to see herself, or anyone else, clearly. But she didn’t even bother to cover her eyes against the light. Didn’t have the desire or the strength in her arms.
“Crying in the dark,” Honey said.
“Wasn’t crying, Mama.”
“I know a li’l something about crying in the dark.” Honey sighed, took a seat at the foot of Lark’s bed.
Lark wanted to roll over, show Honey her back. She had the desire, but lacked the strength to do that one simple thing.
“I’m really sorry about your friend.”
“Kenya. Her name’s Kenya.” Angry.
“Kenya. I’m sorry about Kenya.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Honey grunted, sat silent.
“Shut the door on your way out,” Lark said. “Please.”
Threw that please on at the end, as Honey would say.
Honey stood, moved over to the door, shut it.
To Lark’s dismay, her mother shut herself in the room, hadn’t left. “I don’t feel like talking,” Lark said.
“Listen, then.”
Honey moved back to the bed, sat next to Lark instead of at the foot. Lark found the strength, rolled over, gave her back to Honey. Honey’s voice was soft, insistent. Softer than Lark had ever remembered. She had to struggle to hear her mother. Not that she actually cared about what Honey had to say. It didn’t matter.
“Never really had a friend like that. Like you and Kenya. Met your daddy when we were both so young. We’re all each other has ever known. I’m his only real friend. He’s mine.”
“With friends like that…” Lark began.
“Who needs enemies,” Honey finished. “You’re upset. I’ll humor you.”
Lark wasn’t gonna say it.
“We were good friends,” Honey said. “Way back when.”
“Before me,” Lark said. It hurt to say it. But she knew it was true.
“You’re right,” Honey said.
Lark bit her lip. The conversation was done as far as she was concerned.
“You wondered if I was in college when I got pregnant with you?” Honey waited for Lark to respond. It didn’t happen. “Well, I was. Rider University. Your dad was at Montclair State.”
Her dad? In college? That was a revelation for Lark.
But she didn’t dare respond.
This conversation was over.
“He had this beat-up Buick. I believe it was a Century. He’d come see me every weekend. Send me letters every day. To this day, I don’t know how he did it, but there’d be a letter in my box at school every day.”
Her voice dripped honey.
Lark wasn’t moved.
Her dad had gone from Hallmark to Hennessy.
“He wanted to work on Wall Street. A broker or something. I wanted to be a psychologist. I was always interested in how the mind works.”
How different might life have been?
Maybe they’d have a house instead of living in the projects.
“Sorry I messed it all up for you guys,” Lark said. “You both had to drop out and forego your dreams.”
“Your dad didn’t drop out.”
“What?”
“He graduated.”
“What? How? I mean…” Lark was beyond confused.
She couldn’t help it. She turned over, faced her mother.
Honey’s smile was sad and warm at the same time.
“He graduated. I dropped out to have you. We got married. He made me promise to go back once you hit school age.”
“Daddy has a degree?”
Lark still couldn’t wrap her mind around that.
Her father’s best friend had been his hands for as long as she could remember. Construction, masonry, carpentry. She’d never seen him in a suit except for when Nana died. When Pop-Pop passed he’d worn slacks and a plaid shirt. She couldn’t imagine him behind a desk, his fingers hovering over a keyboard.
“He tried for work. But he had a difficult time finding it in his field. So he just…worked. Did whatever he could to support us. At first he still looked. Then he gave up. Work was work. But I tell you, a part of your father died when he gave up.”
“And you?” Lark asked.
“Work was work,” Honey said.
“So you got stuck raising me and never went back to school?”
“I raised you.”
Lark snorted. “I scarred you so badly you didn’t even have any more kids. Not that I would suggest you did.”
You weren’t any good with the one you had.
A thought in Lark’s head, left unspoken.
“Couldn’t,” Honey said. “Had complications with your birth.”
“What?”
Honey smiled. Sad and warm. “I got my baby, but there’d be no others.”
Lark thought, What a sad and sorry life.
“Life’s gonna be sad at times,” Honey said. “Don’t feel sorry for me. That’s not why I’m telling you all of this.”
Oops. Had Lark spoken out loud?
“Why are you telling me all of this then, Mama?”
“Your father and I haven’t dealt with the bumps in the road as well as I would’ve liked. You don’t have to make the same mistake. I want you to go off to school and do all the great things I know you’re capable of doing.”
Lark hunched her eyes in surprise.
Honey was talking clearly, grammatically correct and with a warmth Lark had never known. Lark had thought her mother had interrupted her sleep, broke off her dream about Kenya. But that must not have happened. Obviously, she was dreaming now.
Lark pinched herself.
Damn!
Honey laughed. “You’re awake, child.”
Child. Not chile.
Damn!
“I don’t understand,” Lark said.
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“You’ve…you’ve never…”
“Told you that before? Yeah. Shame on me.”
Tears.
Big, fat tears.
In Honey’s eyes.
Honey sniffed. “When you love someone, you should do the best by them. I haven’t, and I’m sorry for it. Your father hasn’t. I won’t even say we’ve tried. We’ve made so many mistakes.” Honey reached forward, touched Lark’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you for getting accepted to college. For figuring out how to pay for it on your own. Your father and I have a couple dollars saved up for you that we didn’t tell you about.”
“How much?” More and more revelations. Lark wasn’t sure her heart was strong enough for all of this.
“You won’t have to work. Except on your papers and classwork.”
Tears.
Big, fat tears.
In Lark’s eyes.
“Don’t want to go…without Kenya,” Lark said.
“Go in her honor.”
It hit Lark immediately.
In Kenya’s honor.
“That’s a great idea, Lark.”
“Yeah? You mean it?”
Carolina’s voice was strong and excited through the phone line. “Yes. I mean it. The Deltas are a sisterhood of action. We were planning a concert anyway; always do to open the school year. We’ll dedicate some of the proceeds to help Kenya’s family with their medical bills. It’ll be lovely, and for a good cause. We have to get her better, her bills paid, and here in school where she belongs. With her sisters.”
“True dat.” Lark felt her old self resurfacing.
She’d watch CSI today.
Eat, listen to some music, take a shower.
“I’ll handle everything,” Carolina said.
“Thank you so much.”
“And you think you can get Fiasco to perform?”
“Spoke to Kenya’s brother, and he talked to Fiasco. It’s a go.”
“That’s great. I like his music.”
“He’s beefing with Yung Chit now. That should be interesting, them on the same stage.”
“Not at the same time,” Carolina said. “We’ll keep that from happening.”
“Be like a Delta and an Ah-ka sharing makeup.”
Carolina growled like a cat.
They both laughed.
“So how’s our girl doing?” Carolina asked.
“Better,” Lark said.
Both Kenya and herself.