Honey Black

THE PHONE RANG. CALAMITY AND I were lying on the couch under the front window. It took me a minute to wake up all the way and remember how we got there. I heard Grandma Brooks answer the phone. Suddenly, I realized what the phone call could mean. I dashed into the kitchen. Zuzu sat at the breakfast table and I sat down next to her.

“Zuzu, this is it!” I said. She dropped her fork and it spun and clattered on the floor. We froze and tried to hear what Grandma was saying.

I was dying to hear what was going on, but at the same time, I didn’t want to know.

“Do you think . . . do you think Sherrie is all right?” Zuzu asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, but I don’t think she heard me.

“All right,” said Grandma Brooks. “We’ll be there. Give my love to Sherrie. . . . Okay, bye.”

She hung up, and Zuzu and I sat in our kitchen chairs hardly breathing. It felt like everything slowed down and sped up at the same time. I wanted to know more than anything, and I didn’t want to know more than anything, and everything in the universe jumbled and toppled over itself.

“Well,” Grandma said. “Sherrie’s had the baby!”

“YES!” shouted Zuzu. She tried to jump up, but banged her knees on the table and sat back down.

“Is she . . . how’s Sherrie?” I asked.

“Sherrie is fine. Everything went well and she is happy and comfortable.”

I felt my shoulders loosen. I hadn’t realized they were tight. I wondered if I had been holding that anxiety the entire nine months. I felt so relieved, I started to cry. Grandma Brooks walked over and hugged me. She was soft. I held on to her until I could get hold of myself.

“Everything’s fine, Sadie. Everything’s fine,” she whispered over and over. I believed her and cried out of happiness.

“Well,” said Zuzu. “Is it a brother or sister?”

“Get dressed and let’s go to the hospital to find out. Sherrie wants it to be a surprise.”

“The big reveal!” exclaimed Zuzu, and she bounded from the table and up the stairs to get dressed.

I followed. In about thirty seconds we were both dressed and waiting at the front door for Grandma to get her keys. We hopped into the car and drove to the hospital.

The sun sat on top of one of the mountain peaks, making long shadows stretch across the road. I watched the light and shadow flash past until we got to the hospital.

We walked down a long corridor until we got to their room. Grandma Brooks knocked and a nurse opened the door and let us in.

The room was dim and quiet. Dad sat in a hard plastic chair by the bed. He looked different. He smiled so big, he looked like he was just a boy. He looked so happy. I hoped he looked like that when Zuzu and I were born. I imagine he did.

Sherrie lay in the bed holding a little bundle. She looked different, too. She looked tired, but she also looked radiant—so happy she could hardly hold all of the happiness inside and it was seeping out of the corners of her mouth and the deep places in her eyes. She looked like she was actually glowing.

“Come on in, ladies,” she said.

Zuzu, Grandma and I stepped in reverently, like we were walking into some kind of church or holy shrine.

“Have a seat, girls.” She patted the end of her bed and we obeyed. Sherrie sat up and handed me the bundle. The baby squirmed and wriggled in the blanket. I moved a corner of the blanket and saw a shock of downy honey-black hair tied up in a tiny pink ribbon.

“It’s a sister!” I said.

“Hooray!” shouted Zuzu. The baby started and began to cry. I handed her back to Sherrie. I had a new sister. I couldn’t believe it, I had a new sister!

“I’d like y’all to meet Jacqueline Olivia Brooks. Our own little Jackie O.”

“Can I hold her?” Zuzu asked, obviously trying to be quiet so as not to scare the baby.

“Of course,” said Sherrie, handing her the baby.

“My sister.” Zuzu touched her tiny face and rocked her gently. “You know, Jennifer Meyer doesn’t have a baby sister. She is sure missing out!”

“Yes, she is,” said Dad.

I peeked over Zuzu’s shoulder at our new sister. She had big dark eyes and tiny rosebud lips. Her cheeks were fat and rosy. She squirmed and twisted her tiny little mouth like she was trying out her new face to see how it worked.

“I think she looks like Sadie,” said Sherrie. “She has that pretty faraway look in her eyes. She’s going to be a smart thing. I can see it. Besides, y’all are the same season.”

Baby Jackie looked at me with her deep dark eyes and I knew her story. Sherry looked at me and smiled. She knew it, too.

Zuzu says no one can remember the day they were born, but I do. I looked at my new little sister squirming around in my arms and something inside me just knew she would remember, too.

We sat in the room for a long time, passing the baby around and smiling until our cheeks hurt. I asked Sherrie if I could take the baby into the hall for a minute. She said yes and she didn’t even look nervous. That’s what I love about Sherrie.

I took my sister in my arms and went out to where we could be alone. I held her up close so she could hear, and then did what I was sure Sherrie had already done. I whispered the story of the Great Dog into her tiny, brand-new ear.