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Nina’s bedroom curtains were shut tight, and all lights were off, yet her brain wouldn’t take the hint. A feeling like an electrical current raced through her body. Though it’d been over four hours since she’d dropped the girls off at school, she still couldn’t unwind. Getting out of bed, she trudged to the walk-in closet. She picked up her black shoebox, removed the lid, and extracted the bottle of Hennessey. She shouldn’t be drinking on her medication, but she didn’t care. Chugging the liquid, she winced as the alcohol burned its way down. After a pause, she had a few more swigs, determined to drink enough to ease the tension and help her relax. Of course, it was a bad idea, but it was the last one she had.
Her gaze fell on the gray plastic storage bin in the corner. Don’t do it. But she knelt down and ducked under the shelf. Sitting cross-legged, she removed the lid and gently took out the pictures, handling them like each were worth a million dollars. And there he was: her brother, Isaiah. His brown eyes seemed to stare directly at her. His full lips were in a wide smile, showing his brilliantly white teeth. His clean-shaven, round face was topped with his short, curly black hair—exactly as she remembered him.
She smiled at the next picture: she and Isaiah in Paris. Their dad had surprised the two of them with tickets to Europe as a high school graduation gift for Nina. They’d had so much fun. The third captured Isaiah’s college graduation. She had never been prouder of him. Carefully, she sifted through the pictures, sipping the Hennessey. Stop now. But she kept going.
Her heart stopped.
It was a picture of her, Isaiah, and Damien on a beautiful beach in Hawaii the summer after she’d gotten her first job as a software engineer and could afford a vacation. The sight of Damien’s dark-brown skin, beautiful brown eyes, and muscular arms caused tears to flood her eyes. Memories came swiftly.
“Nina, you have to come in here,” Damien had yelled.
Nina sat up, placing the local newspaper down, and shielded her eyes from the bright sun as she gazed at Damien and Isaiah in the prettiest blue-green-colored ocean she’d ever seen. “Can’t.” She lay back down on the yellow-and-white striped beach towel.
“Nina,” Damien yelled. “Come on.”
Nina sat up again. “You know black women don’t get our hair wet.” She’d gotten a press before the trip and didn’t plan on ruining her hair for the rest of the trip.
“All hair restrictions are off in Hawaii,” Isaiah said.
“I’ll pay for you to get it done again.” Damien circled his arm toward the water, gesturing for her to join them. “Just get your butt in this water.”
“Nah.” Sweat coated Nina’s body, and the water did beckon her, but she couldn’t risk her hair being crazy.
She lay back down, soaking in the sun. As the waves crashed on the beach shore, calm settled in her. She was confident that heaven must be like this.
Then hands grabbed her, two at the wrists and two at the ankles. “Got you,” Damien said.
“You two better put me down!” Nina screeched as he and Isaiah carried her to the water.
“We’ll put you down all right,” her brother said.
“My hair!” Nina squealed and squirmed in her modest black bathing suit.
A man with a camera stopped in front of them. “I have to get a picture of this.”
Holding Nina suspended in the air, Isaiah and Damien grinned proudly as if they had caught a fish. The man snapped a photo then handed them the Polaroid.
The boys had mercy on Nina, and they dropped her on her bottom at the very edge of the wet sand—right as a wave came, of course.
“I’m going to get you both.” Nina splashed water on them.
Damien came to Nina and kissed her. “It feels nice, right?”
“A little,” Nina admitted.
“Get on my back. That way your hair will stay dry,” Damien said.
“Queen Nina on her throne,” Isaiah said after Nina hopped on Damien.
Nina would never forget that trip. She placed the photo back into the shoebox then sifted through every picture and bit of memorabilia. Her eyes clouded with a torrent of tears. The time escaped her, but when she struggled to focus on the last picture, the bottle only had a few drops of alcohol left. Her head was heavy, and though she remained still, the small closet swayed. She picked up a faded-brown newspaper clipping: the obituary, forcing her eyes to stay open and focus.
“No!” Nina yelled. Tossing the empty Hennessy bottle and pictures into the bin, she slammed the lid shut, needing to get out of there and away from the memories. She shot up, knocking her head against the shelf. Pain then blackness.
***
“NINA! NINA!”
Nina opened her eyes. Hanging clothes surrounded her in the closet. She brought her hand to the burning sensation on her forehead. “Ouch.”
Rodney hugged her tight then quickly let go. “Don’t ever do that again. Candace nearly had a heart attack!”
Completely disoriented, Nina asked, “Candace?”
“She came home and saw your car but not you. She called you a dozen times. When you didn’t answer, she called me. I came straight home. Luckily, I found you in here before I called the police. What happened?”
“Based on the pounding going on in my head, I’m figuring I hit it.” Nina didn’t mention the possibility she could have blacked out. “What time is it?”
“Three-thirty,” Rodney said.
She couldn’t believe she’d slept for a few hours and completely wasted the afternoon. “Where are the girls?”
“In the kitchen with Candace. They were worried, too.”
Nina let Rodney help her to her feet. “I’m sorry about all this fuss. Why don’t you get back to work? I’m perfectly fine.”
Rodney bent down, and when he stood, he held the Hennessy bottle. “You were drinking?”
Nina sucked in a breath. “I just—”
“Dammit, Nina! I was over here worried about you, but you were so drunk you passed out. You know you aren’t supposed to be drinking on your medication. This morning proves that you are already having trouble remembering things, so why the hell would you make the situation worse? You see how your mom ended up. Do you want to be like her?”
“I’m sorry, Rod. I want to get better, but I made a mistake this afternoon. Believe me, I don’t want the girls to go through what I endured with my mom growing up. I want to be here for our daughters, and I’ll make every effort.”
“Did you think of that before deciding to have kids, though?” Rodney asked.
Nina’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
Rodney raised his eyebrows. “You never told me you had a mental illness when we got married is all.”
Nina felt like she’d been punched in the chest. “I had never been diagnosed with a mental illness and never had any symptoms before I met you. You know that. I never imagined I’d get sick.”
“But you did. And now to make matters worse, you’re drinking. Quite frankly, I’m sick of this shit, and I’m not going to deal with it anymore.” Rodney tossed the bottle on the carpet. “I’m going back to work. Don’t wait up for me tonight.”
Nina hung her head. There was no point in trying to justify her behavior, even if sometimes getting so drunk that she passed out was the only way to shut her brain off. Though the consequences were a pounding head for sure, nausea and throwing up other times, it allowed her to turn off the master power switch to reboot everything. But she’d have to find other methods to cope. She couldn’t risk losing her marriage. Again.
When Nina set foot in the kitchen, Laila screamed.
“What’s wrong?” Nina asked.
Laila pointed to Nina’s forehead. “You have a big owie.”
“Oh, it’s not a big deal. It’s a little bump,” Nina said.
“Doesn’t look little.” Candace rummaged through her purse then handed Nina a compact.
Nina peered into the tiny mirror. A huge, raised, green-and-blue welt lined her forehead with a touch of dried blood. She was disgusted that she’d been so drunk she’d caused this all to happen.
“Oh, Mommy, ouch!” Bree approached to inspect the bruise. She grabbed Nina’s hand. “You need to go lie down on the couch.”
“Laila, grab some frozen peas,” Candace said.
“Eew, I don’t wanna eat peas,” Laila whined.
“Not to eat, dummy—for Mommy’s head.” Bree led Nina out of the kitchen. “You wanna go back to bed?”
“Thanks for your concern, sweetie. But don’t call your sister a dummy. I’ll relax in the living room, so I can spend time with you both. I want to know all about school today.” Nina eased down onto the couch. Conveniently, her pillow and the blanket were still there.
Bree fluffed the pillow. “Lift up, Mommy.”
Nina followed her instructions, and Bree slipped it underneath her head. Laila charged into the room, slamming the freezing-cold peas against Nina’s head.
Nina held in a yelp of pain. The cold radiated through her face.
“Let’s finish homework and let Mommy rest,” Candace said.
“It’s okay, Candace. If you can start dinner, I’ll help with homework,” Nina said.
“Sure.” Candace left the living room, and the girls got comfortable on the floor with their worksheets.
As Nina rested on the couch, Rodney’s threat rang in her ears. Though it’d been seven years since their vows, part of her still questioned if she’d made the right decision to marry him in the first place. They’d met at a grief support group in a local church. Nina’s dad had suggested it to her. Since Isaiah and Damien had been her main source of social interaction, he said it would be a good idea for her to at least talk to others and socialize a little.
Rodney had also wandered in. His mom had passed six months before, after a long and hard battle with cancer. Rodney was having a hell of a time adjusting from the life of a caretaker to that of a mourner. He’d later told Nina that he felt like he needed something or someone else to take care of.
Though Nina and Rodney hadn’t known it, it’d been both of their first times at such a group. It had also been their last. Though Nina told people that she noticed Rodney from across the room, the truth was she hadn’t. She’d been surprised when he’d come up to her at the coffee station and asked her name after the meeting because she hadn’t registered him at all.
“I’m Rodney. Do you come here often?”
Nina tilted her head slightly, wanting to be sure she had heard that corny line correctly.
Rodney laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m... not used to... it’s just been me and my mom and...” He burst into tears.
Nina’s gaze darted awkwardly around the room. She wondered if she was the only person seeing this then reached over to the cocktail napkins next to the coffee carafe and held one out to Rodney.
He accepted the napkin and dabbed his eyes. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“It’s okay.” Nina handed him another napkin. “I’m sad too. I think we’re all sad.”
Rodney sniffled. “I don’t have many people to talk to.”
“Yeah.” Nina hoped he wouldn’t say what she dreaded he was going to say.
“Do you think we could talk again? As friends. Maybe grab a coffee?”
Nina had wanted to say no, that she had no desire to talk to anyone ever again. But a grown man with tears in his eyes asked her for someone to talk to. She couldn’t say no. So she’d given Rodney her number. Marriage vows and two children later, the rest was history.
Nina gazed at her daughters busily doing their homework. Regardless of what Rodney had said, Nina would never regret having them. But if she wanted to be the best mother she could be, she had to get her act together and ditch the booze altogether. She might have made a mistake marrying Rodney, but her daughters needed a father. She had to patch up their relationship and convince him she could change.