“Daddy, do I really have to take these dolls?” Amaya asked, rushing into the dining room with a frown on her face.
Amir descended the steps behind her, the box of offensive toys in his hands.
Now that the last two bedrooms were packed up except for the big furniture, he’d started taping the boxes closed and hauling them into the foyer. He’d created neat stacks by the front door to make the move tomorrow easier. There was a small stack for Amaya that he was ready to start loading into her car just as soon as they handled the issue of these dolls.
Alonzo had moved a dining room chair into the living room after lunch so he could start packing up his records into the milk crates he’d sourced from Lord knew where. He started at the far end of the living room and began carefully plucking each album from the shelf. He wiped them down with a scrap of cloth and then lowered them into the crates. It had been a few hours, and when Amir walked into the living room, he was surprised to see how much progress his father had made. They still hadn’t agreed on what to do with them, but whichever option they chose, they’d have to be packed up, so the sight made the tension in his shoulders ease a bit.
“I told Amir to tell you to keep ‘em for now,” Alonzo said.
“But they’re creepy,” his sister whined.
“I always told your mama you hated them things,” Alonzo said, chuckling softly. He leaned over to place an album into the crate at his feet.
“I didn’t hate them,” Amaya said softly, chastened by Alonzo mentioning their mom.
Amir rolled his eyes, and then he coughed out the word ‘liar.’
Amaya turned to glare at him over her shoulder.
Alonzo’s chuckles turned to a full-blown laugh. “I might still got this baby face, but I sure ‘nough wasn’t born yesterday. You hate those things, and that’s your right. Put ‘em in storage,” he said, looking up at Amaya. “You can hide ‘em away if you want. But your mother was so damn happy to spend too much money on those dolls for you. All I ask is that you keep ‘em while I’m here on this earth. I wanna be able to tell your mother that you held onto those God-awful things with a straight face when I see her again. You can get rid of ‘em once I’m cold in the ground, okay?”
“Dad.” Amaya’s voice was wet with emotion.
Amir moved into the room as quietly as he could.
Alonzo leaned forward and plucked that last album from the shelf. “We shoulda kept the record player here just a little bit longer. Your mama used to play this album out. Hell, this might be a replacement for all I know.”
“What album?” Amir asked.
He moved behind Amaya and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her muscles were tight, probably because she was trying not to cry. She hung her head forward, using her braids to hide her face. Amir squeezed her shoulder, and Alonzo reached out to grab her hand.
He answered Amir’s question with a smile on his face. “Only man I ever worried your mama might actually leave me for,” he said with far too much heat, considering both parties were dead.
“Teddy Pendergrass,” he and Amaya said in unison with twin exasperated groans.
They knew this grudge very well.