Stranger Things Have Happened

“Hello?”

“Is it the lawyer?” Collette, of course, was leaning over Renee’s shoulder.

“Oh hello, Mr. Brown. Yes, we’re all here and ready to meet with you. Yes, Uncle Thomas gave us your message, and eleven will be fine. See you then.”

A sigh of disappointment passed among us. We were all anxious to know the answer to the question that cast an even darker cloud over our life’s parade than Daddy’s death. Who is this Nina Blackford person?

“We’d better clear the table. Let’s talk about the funeral services and budget before the funeral director gets here. We want to present a united front. No infighting.” Collette was clearing dishes as she spoke.

“Daddy’s instructions were very clear. No need for interpretation. We could, in fact, turn over that piece of paper to the funeral director and give him the insurance policy. Other than the flowers, which we’ll order on our own, Daddy left no detail unattended.”

“But I think we need to go over the cost of everything Daddy requested. After all, we may be able to save some money here.” Collette had clearly forgotten my words of warning from the previous night.

“Daddy said it. That does it. Amen!” Renee said, possibly saving Collette from serious bodily injury.

“I just thought we should go over his instructions and see if there’s anything we want to eliminate.”

“And just why in the hell would we want to do that?” Lord please help me not to whip her ass in my daddy’s house, I prayed silently.

“I’m just saying, in case there’s something frivolous.”

“And if there is?”

“Why do you always pick on me, Glynda? You’re a lawyer. There is no profession more money-conscious than yours.”

“The operative word, my little sister, is ‘profession.’ This is about my daddy.”

“Give it a rest, you two!” Renee spoke with motherlike authority. “We’ll sit down and go over Daddy’s wishes. But it won’t be to cut corners. It will be to make sure it is practical on all fronts. Collette and Glynda, I won’t have you disrespecting Daddy by consistently bickering over things that didn’t matter even a tiny bit to him.”

“I think we should call Estelle over,” Dawn almost whispered.

“Oh, here we go! She has no say!” Collette said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Wait, Lette, I think she’s right. I’ve been thinking about Daddy’s will and last wishes. It was apparent how he felt about her. He’d be really upset to see us treating her this way.”

“I can’t believe you! You treasonous hussy! I thought we agreed!”

“I know what I said, but right is right. I’m calling her now.” As Renee reached for the phone, it rang.

Was my heart the only one that skipped a beat? As Renee answered it, I watched her face for the slightest hint as to who was on the other end of the connection.

“Hey, Roberta … we’re making it. Just about to sit down and go over the details of the funeral. Why don’t you stop in around lunchtime? That’ll give us a little more time. Of course, I’ll plead your case. I love you, too.”

“And just what case exactly do you need to plead for your busybody friend?” Collette wasted no time.

“She just wants to be sure she is included in all the family activites. She really wants to sit with us. Ride in the limo, walk in with us. You know, all the family stuff. She has been my friend since high school. Daddy really did love her.”

“And Rico has been my friend since college. We even bought a house together, but do you see me trying to impose her on the family? Hell, she would never even ask such a thing. Daddy even flew to L.A. when she graduated from medical school, and gave her away at her wedding. How much closer do you think they could’ve been?”

“Neither one of them are family. Period. Case closed. Edward Naylor had four daughters. Why does everybody want to be related to him?” Collette said, rummaging through her purse for a cigarette.

“That’s only Roberta. Rico will be here to assist in any way she can, but she knows her place, and no one will have to remind her to stay in it!”

“Dat’s enough! I’m ’bout sick of y’all grown women actin’ like little teenage gurls. Yo’ daddy would be real disappoin’ed in da way y’all carryin’ on. Roberta’s a sweet chile ’n’ she don’t mean no harm. Eddie’d nevah do a thang dat would hurt heh feelin’s. So we gonna jus’ make do ’n’ try ta keep heh happy.”

We all sat quietly as Uncle Thomas chastised us for acting like children. He was right. Daddy wouldn’t do anything to hurt Roberta’s or, for that matter, anyone else’s feelings. Daddy’s death was bringing out the worst in all of us. Our true colors were waving like a flag on a windy day.

We cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher in silence. When the kitchen was spotless, Dawn spoke. “We’d better go over the details of the funeral before Mr. Brown gets here.”

“I’ll get the folders,” Collette said quietly.

Daddy had everything so neatly arranged and labeled. The night before I hadn’t noticed how orderly everything was placed in the folders. My dad had been one of a kind. “Renee, you never did call Estelle. You want me to do it?”

Collette looked at me to say something but caught Uncle Thomas’s glare and thought better of it. I quickly called Estelle and asked her how soon she could be at our place, explaining that the funeral director would arrive in forty-five minutes. She said she would be at our place in fifteen. She thanked me with a sincerity that caused a constriction in my chest.

“I think we should wait until she gets here.” I wanted Collette to object so Uncle Thomas could check her. But she never even looked in my direction.

“I want to read the will again. Maybe we missed something in it last night that’ll give us some clue as to who Nina Blackford really is.” Renee was spreading papers out on the dining room table.

“This is such a mystery. If Uncle Thomas and Estelle don’t know, I’m just dumbfounded. Uncle Thomas …?”

“I swear I don’t know! I sho’ ’nuff don’t believe ’twas ’notha woman. He loved Estelle somethin’ fierce. Maybe it was jus’ a friend. Somebody who done somethin’ for him a long time ago. Maybe a friend of yo’ mama’s? I just dunno.”

“But if it was a friend, some of us would know who she is. Daddy would never hide a friend. This is so unlike him!” Renee said, placing the papers in neat stacks.

“I have to agree with Renee. This is very, very strange. So are there any clues we missed last night, Renee?” I was leaning over her shoulder.

“I don’t see a thing that gives any indication. There’s one thing that’s interesting, though. According to this insurance policy, Nina Blackford is three years older than me. So I think that would rule out the possibility of her being Mama’s or Daddy’s friend.”

One possibility came to my mind, but was too farfetched to verbalize, so I said nothing. The conversation was minimal as we all looked through various papers in the folders that Daddy had left marked with all the final details of his life. Or were these the beginning details of his death? As I walked to the kitchen to pour yet another cup of coffee, the phone rang. My earlier trepidation had left me, and I answered without giving it a thought. Had I known it was for me?

“Hello, Glynda Naylor speaking.”

“How’s my best girl?” The deep sexy voice on the other end immediately brought tears to my eyes.

“Anthony! Oh baby! I’m so happy to be talking to you. I need you here with me. Will they let you off duty? Where’re you? Are you at home or still in the desert?”

“Whoa, baby, slow down. I’m so, so very sorry about your dad. I just got the message this morning. I’m still in the desert. I’ve talked to everyone I know to talk to, short of the President himself, but no can do. Your dad isn’t a relative. You know I want to be with you. They let me skip maneuvers this morning to make the calls. I feel so powerless. You so rarely need anything from me, and the one time you do, I can’t be there. I just want to hold you, baby.”

“I want you here with me, honey.” My words came out between sobs. “Rico and Jonathan should be here tomorrow morning. I haven’t heard from her yet today, though.”

“Ain’t that a bitch. Another man can be there for my woman, and I can’t.” The sound of his fist pounding a hard surface made me jump.

“Baby, I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. Maybe if I’d married you on one of those dozen times you asked me, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

After a long silence Anthony managed, “All in your time, Glyn. So other than the obvious, how are you? You eating, sleeping, drinking less than three pots of coffee a day?”

I so appreciated him not implying he had told me something like this would happen because he wasn’t my husband. I mustered up a laugh at his barrage of questions. “Funny you should ask about the coffee. I was headed to get another cup when the phone rang. I slept okay last night. I’m staying here at Daddy’s with Uncle Thomas.

“We’re waiting for the funeral director to come by to make the arrangements. Daddy had written out all of his final wishes. I mean every detail. He’d picked the funeral home, casket, songs, everything. I’m wondering if he was sick and never let us know. There is one thing though. Has he ever mentioned the name Nina Blackford to you?” I knew I was fishing. If none of us knew who she was, it was not at all likely Anthony had a clue.

“No. Who is she?”

“An insurance beneficiary and an equal heir.”

“No kidding? And none of you know her? How about Uncle Thomas?”

“No. He doesn’t know either.”

“Damn! That’s deep.”

We continued to catch up on the events of the past thirty-six hours. He told me he’d called his brother, John, to ask him to fly in for the funeral to represent for him. He had left a message and was reasonably certain my favorite of his five brothers would be there to offer whatever support was needed. He wanted to know if we had picked all of the pallbearers and said that he knew John would want to be considered.

I thanked him for just being the wonderful strong black man he was, and for loving me, even in my unreasonableness. He promised to call again as soon as he could. He told me to expect to hear from John sometime that day. We exchanged our normal “I love you”s. As I returned the receiver to its resting place, I knew I wanted Anthony to ask me to marry him just once more.

The doorbell ringing while I was on the phone with Anthony announced the arrival of Estelle, who looked so tired. Her face was drawn, and large dark circles surrounded her beautiful green eyes.

“Good morning, Sissy. Did you rest at all last night? Thomas told me you slept on the couch.”

“Good morning, Estelle,” I said as I hugged her long and tight. “I slept really deep, but not very long. Uncle Thomas and I talked a long time before I lay down. I’m so glad you could come over this morning. We only have a few minutes to go over everything before the funeral director arrives.”

“Thank you for including me.”

“You belong here. But in all fairness, it was Renee’s suggestion we call you this morning. I’m sure we’re all glad you’re here. Isn’t that right?”

All except Collette agreed. “May as well call Ms. Busybody, too, since we have nonrelatives involved,” she muttered.

“I ain’t havin’ it, Collette!” Uncle Thomas had spoken in anger. Even Collette knew when to shut up.

“Well, let’s get down to business. Daddy wants a burgundy casket trimmed in gold. He didn’t indicate the lining color. Do we have any preference?” Renee took charge.

“My Eddie loved that burgundy and gray combination. How about a soft shade of gray satin lining?” Estelle spoke just above a whisper.

“He’s wearing a gray suit,” Collete said with as much disdain as she could muster.

“He didn’t indicate what he wanted to wear, so why did you say he’s wearing a gray suit?” Dawn asked.

“I just thought it would go nicely with the burgundy casket.”

“I think we should vote on it. I think burgundy silk pajamas and robe would be really nice. He’ll look like he’s at rest.” I put my two cents in the pot.

“Pajamas? Where in the world did you come up with that? Is that a California thing? You’ve been in Hollyweird too long. Normal decent people are not buried in silk pajamas. My daddy wasn’t a pimp.” Collette pulled a cigarette from her jacket pocket.

“Don’t light that thing in here! It’s not a California thing. And I don’t live in Hollywood. I really don’t appreciate your tone. It’s only a suggestion. Daddy had such exquisite taste and style, I just think we should do something a little different. Something that makes a statement.”

“The only statement pajamas would make is: ‘Here lies Pimp Daddy Eddie.’ Now Willie being buried in silk pajamas wouldn’t surprise anybody.” Renee tried to defuse the impending argument with humor.

“Okay, so maybe that was a bit of a reach. I like the idea of the soft gray liner. How about we buy a burgundy with gray pinstripe suit, soft gray shirt, and use the burgundy and gray tie and pocket square Devin gave him last Christmas? He loved that set.” Dawn’s bid had been placed.

“Why do we have to buy something new? Daddy has a closet full of suits. That is just throwing away money to buy him a suit to be buried in.” Collette said the M word and indicated that we would be wasting it. It was on!

“Let me tell your uppity, money-grubbing, snobby ass something. If we spend every dime of the burial policy and then some on this funeral, that’s just the way it is. I can’t believe you. Despite me warning you countless times not to mention money, you have done it anyway. I’m a Brooklyn minute off you. I’ll grab that weave and spin you around the room with it. You can spend fifteen hundred dollars on a weave thinking you Miss Jackson, but then try to tell us what we should spend on our father. Negress, you betta recognize.” I was so angry my face was hot.

“Just because you don’t care about how you look, don’t be mad at me because I keep myself up. You walking around with braids, like you’re some Afrocentric college student. I’m surprised any decent law firm will even interview you. You need to have a more corporate image.”

“Gurl, what millennium are you in? We were set free in the nineteenth century. We can wear our hair as we please. I like being culturally in tune with my people. Besides, what does my hair have to do with what Daddy wears to his final resting place?”

“You started it, talking about my weave. No one can even tell I have extensions. That’s why I pay so much.”

“Gurl, please! How many sistahs you know with jet-black silky hair midway down their back? You ain’t fooling nobody but your damn self.”

“Ladies, please! You’re missing the point, and the funeral director will be here any minute,” Dawn interrupted. “I see why Daddy left such detailed instructions. I’m sure he thought we could decide what clothes he should wear. He has a solid burgundy suit that he bought a month or so ago. Devin and I were with him. He bought it to go with the tie set Devin gave him. So can we move on?”

“So why does he have to wear something that Devin gave him? You talking like he had no other grandchildren. My kids have given him plenty nice gifts, too! He loved them all the same. He didn’t have any favorites. Besides, Derrick junior is the oldest grandchild.” Renee rose and headed for the kitchen.

“Lord, Lord, Lord! Yo’ daddy hated a disturbment mo’ dan any-thin’ in dis world. Listen to yo’selves. Now ya arguin’ ’bout who Eddie loved best.”

“I’m not saying he had favorites, but you all know how much he loved that tie set. He went out and bought a suit to go with it. That says it all! It was his favorite color combination. I’m sure we can find gifts from each of the grandchildren to be buried with him. You’re being so immature.”

“Immature? You need to show me some respect. I’m the oldest. You need to respect your elders,” Renee fumed from the kitchen doorway.

“Elders? Hell, you’re my oldest sister, not my mother. Order of birth gives you no authority over me. And as far as respect goes, you gotta give it to get it. You’re acting like you did when we were all little. You always thought you were my mother. Well, my mother is dead. And now my daddy is, too. So ain’t shit you can say to me. Nothing!” Dawn began to sob.

“Now y’all need ta jus’ calm down. And Miss Dawn, ya ain’t so grown I won’t give ya what fo’, using dat kinda language. I been mo’ dan a little patient wit’ y’all. Eddie wouldn’t stand for dis, and neitha will I. I think Estelle’s suggestion on the liner is perfect. The burgundy suit seems like the right choice. Renee, didn’t your boys give dere grandpa a gray shirt a while back?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then he’ll wear that. Dey gave him cuff links, too. I think dat would round everything out right nicely. So e’erybody’s child’ll gave somethin’ fo’ da occasion. I’m just plum shamed of y’all. Educated women actin’ like dat trailer-park trash on dem talk shows. Mah brotha would not be happy.”

We looked from one to the other. It was rare for us to see Uncle Thomas mad. We’d ground our heels into the quick of his patience, and he’d had a knee-jerk reaction. We knew better than to say a word.

Estelle broke the deafening silence. “Thomas, that sounds real good. I think Eddie would be pleased.”

“Now what’s next? We not gonna have any more of dat bickerin’. Do I make mahsef real clear?”

“Yes, sir! Real clear,” we all said together.

“I guess the pallbearers would be the next thing. We need five more. Willie already said he wants to be one. Renee, you think Derrick wants to be an actual or an honorary?” I proceeded with caution.

“What chu mean ya need five mo’? If Willie is one, den you only need fo’!”

“Uncle Thomas, I assumed you wanted to be an honorary.”

“Miss Just-Passed-the-Bar is about to get what-for now.” Collette seemed happy at my bad assumption.

“Sissy, baby, I dunno where dis honorary mess came from. But when ya ax a man ta be a pallbearah, it’s a honor all on its own. It ain’t somethin’ taken lightly. Means ya takin’ someone ya luv to dere final restin’ place. I guess you educated folks came up wit’ dat honorary mess. Y’all too good ta strain a muscle. But ya see, mah brotha sat by mah bed ’n’ wiped bullet-size sweat from mah forehead when I firs’ got back from Nam. He made me stay in his house wit’ y’all ’til da nightmares stop comin’ ev’ry night. He took care of me when I was jus’ a boy when owah mama had ta work three jobs jus’ ta keep us fed. He used da money he earned ta buy lunch meat for me to have food when I went ta school. And ya thank I’d dishonor him by lettin’ anotha man carry him? Oh no, sweet chile. See if need be, I’d find a way ta carry him all by mahself if I could.”

“Well, I guess we only need four,” Collette said with a smirk.

“Make it three. I know Derrick wants to do it, too.”

“Anthony can’t come because he is on reserve duty. But his brother John is coming, and I’d like to ask him to stand in for Anthony. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

“I sure don’t. Is John still single with his church fan foine self?” Dawn pretended to cool herself with her right hand and placed the back of her left hand on her forehead.

“No, she didn’t go there! I thought you were in mourning?” I shook my head at my baby sister, who had been fiendin’ for Anthony’s baby brother since the first time they met while she was vacationing in California.

John had been the reason I met Anthony. We’d been in a business law class, and he’d invited me to join his study group. John was the give-you-the-shirt-off-his-back kind of brotha that I truly respected. When I arrived on his doorstep heavy laden with books for the study session, Anthony had rescued me and I realized that good looks and chivalry ran in the Sanders family. When Anthony’s hands touched mine, magic happened. He told me later he had felt it, too.

“Gurl, is he single or not?” Dawn was laughing. For a brief second the pain that lay deep in her heart seemed to disappear.

“He broke up with someone a couple months ago. She was cheating on him. Can you imagine? What must she have been thinking? Brotha got it all. And she was cheatin’ with a high-rollin’ playa. But he isn’t good prospect material. He is hurt and bitter. I’ve been trying to talk to him, but he’s not feelin’ any woman right now.”

“Just my luck!”

“If we can break you two away from the dating game, can we get back to the issue at hand? Pallbearers,” Collette said.

“Sorry, I guess we did get way off track. Mr. Brown is late. It’s eleven-fifteen.”

“Like we ready for him, anyway.” Collette enjoyed someone else being at fault for any transgression.

“So that’s Uncle Thomas, Mister Willie, John, Derrick, and who else?” Renee was writing as she spoke.

“What about my Jimmy?”

“With all due respect, Estelle, does Jimmy consider herself a man?” Collette asked.

“Collette!” I was stunned that she would ask such a question.

“It’s alright, Glynda. He really doesn’t think of himself as male. But I know he’d want to do something. He said Eddie was more of a father to him than James ever was or even tried to be.”

“How about if he sings one of the songs Daddy chose?” Collette had redeemed herself.

“Now, Lette, you have finally said something worth listening to. That boy knows he can blow! He can sing ‘I Won’t Complain.’ ”

The doorbell chimed, and we all turned. It must be Mr. Brown. He was nearly thirty minutes late, and I detested businesspeople who showed up late for appointments. Devin showed him into the dining room, then headed himself toward the den. The dark-suited man addressed each of us with the rehearsed and often-used greeting reserved for the bereaved. He spoke quietly and held our hands in his as he spoke to each of us in turn.

“I’m so very sorry to hear of your loss. I knew your father well. He was a very outstanding man. We served on the board of the boys’ and girls’ club together. That’s why I’ll be handling his services personally. I apologize for being late. We had some very pressing business that ran over this morning. We’ll be expanding our facilities in the coming year.”

My sisters and I looked at one another, none of us exactly sure how to respond.

“I think we should get down to business,” I said. “My father left very clear instructions. That’s why we called you. He’s chosen the type of service he wants, casket, et cetera. We have very few decisions to make.”

“I’m sure a man of your father’s means has a substantial insurance policy. Only the best for my friend will do.” Dollar signs hung in the air around his head.

“We aren’t spending a penny more than is necessary to carry out his wishes, Mr. Brown.” For once I agreed with Lette.

“Oh, I fully understand. How much insurance are we talking about, Miss Naylor?”

“The value of the policy is irrelevant at the moment. We want to get the cost of the items he has requested,” Collette said as she passed him the typed list of Daddy’s last requests.

After a moment the man dressed in the fifteen-hundred-dollar Hugo Boss suit looked up and smiled. “Without doing a detailed calculation, I’d estimate this to cost in the neighborhood of twelve thousand five hundred dollars.”

“Then we need to move to a different neighborhood.” I didn’t even give Collette a chance to speak. “I believe my father’s wishes should be followed to the letter, but there is no earthly reason it should cost that much money.”

“He has chosen the most expensive cemetery in the tri-state area. The crypt alone is four thousand dollars. The figure I quoted is discounted based on my long-standing friendship with Eddie.”

“Mr. Brown, the mausoleum is paid for in full. So you can deduct that from your estimate. What in your services is valued at eight thousand five hundred dollars?” Something was terribly wrong. Now I agreed with Collette’s approach.

“Miss Naylor, I assure you my prices are in line with the quality of service and are very competitive.”

“I don’t doubt that in the least. But please explain to me what costs eight thousand five hundred dollars,” Collette continued.

He shifted nervously in his seat. When death strikes, especially suddenly, families are so overcome with grief they don’t even notice those so willing to take advantage of their vulnerability. Collette had pissed me off with great frequency, but she was now working boyfriend like a personal trainer works an Olympic contender.

“I’m sure you want a top-of-the-line casket, and they run forty-nine ninety-five and up. They are fully insulated and sealed to prevent corrosion. We’ll provide it at cost for my dearly departed friend.”

“Excuse me, but if he is being placed in a mausoleum, why do we need all of that?” Estelle interjected.

“It’s just the Rolls-Royce of caskets. Edward Naylor was a man of great style in life. I’m sure you would want nothing less for him in his final accommodations.” Mr. Brown reminded me of a minister laying on guilt as he collected the third offering.

“We surely want a quality product,” Renee said, “but I think we’ll shop on the Net for a casket and have it delivered to you. Now, would you kindly break down the service charges for us.” Renee handled Mr. Brown like she was buying drapes.

“I assure you, you’ll receive the best service available anywhere for your money. We pride ourselves on top-quality service for our bereaved. As I stated previously, your father was a man of great style and class. I also assume that he was blessed to be well insured. If I may take a look at the policy, I’m sure I can put your mind at ease.”

“We’ll be paying cash.” Everyone’s head turned so quickly toward Renee, the air seemed to shift throughout the room.

“I see.” There was an immediate change in Mr. Brown’s attitude. He again moved nervously in his chair.

“So you see,” I said, “we’ll need all of the expenses broken down. I’m sure you brought the contract with you.” I wanted him to understand we were a united front.

“Yes, I have the contract here. We can get right to the business at hand. Please be sure you are getting the best-quality casket. These wholesalers can be charlatans.” The fox had feathers all around his lips while blaming the hens for jumping in his mouth.

From that point forward, Mr. Brown was cool and directly to the point. The services, including three cars, were reduced to just below four thousand dollars. A third of the bounty he had anticipated. We were all very pleased with Renee’s handling of the funeral director. But Collette looked as if she should’ve been smoking a cigarette.

Since we were paying cash, he insisted we each sign the contract to ensure our financial responsibility. He checked his calendar one last time to confirm there were no conflicts with our desired schedule and told us he would need to have the casket delivered no later than Thursday afternoon for the preliminary viewing.

We assured him we would start shopping immediately and would get back to him in the afternoon if there was any problem with delivery. Estelle showed him to the door and thanked him for his time.

I had retrieved my laptop from its travel case in Daddy’s room and was settling down to look for caskets on the Net when the phone rang. Dawn answered it. “This is Dawn Naylor, how may I help you?”

“Yes, that’s correct, your client Edward Naylor passed away yesterday. We read a copy of his will and wanted a matter cleared up for us. There’s an heir listed whom we don’t know. We were wondering if you could shed some light on it. Her name is Nina Blackford.… I understand. When can we expect a callback?… Very well, we’ll speak with you then.” Every eye in the dining room was on Dawn as she hung up the phone.

“Well?” Collette, of course, spoke up first.

“He’ll have an associate pull the file and get back to us. He couldn’t remember the contents or the details of the will.”

“When the hell is he calling back?” Collette asked impatiently.

“He said no later than tomorrow afternoon. He sends his condolences.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Collette slammed her fist into the table, causing the coffee cups to bounce.

“Calm down, Lette. He’ll get back to us as soon as he can. We’re real small potatoes to a law firm.” Though I understood the internal operation of a large law firm, I, too, wondered why it would take so long to pull a file and tell us who Nina Blackford is and what she meant to Edward Naylor.

“You calm down! Just like your wannabe lawyer ass to defend him.”

“I’m not a wannabe lawyer. I am a lawyer, and twenty-four hours is not unreasonable. I want to know who Nina Blackford is as much as the rest of you. Though I’m sure my motivation is not the same as yours, Collette. The only thing you can think of is how can you get your hands on her share.”

“You know you really make me sick with your high-and-mighty ass!” Collette said angrily. “So what, you’re a lawyer. I’m going back to get my MBA, and then we’ll be equal. Daddy shouldn’t have died before I gave him bragging rights the way you did. He was so proud of you. You’re all he talked about.” A steady flow of tears dripped onto Collette’s silk blouse.

“Oh Lette, he was so proud of you! What are you talking about?” I said, trying to comfort her. “He talked about all of you to me. Hell, he has worked my nerves on a few occasions about y’all. When you got your own branch office to manage and I was still struggling with my last year of law school, I felt like I’d never measure up to your success. Your MBA or lack of one meant nothing to him. He was just proud. He told me how proud he was because Renee wouldn’t give up her business four years ago when Derrick wanted her to stay at home after Krystal was born. And Dawn could do no wrong. According to Edward Zachary Naylor, you were the director of pediatric nursing. Please don’t think he was prouder of any one of us. We were all his darling princesses.” We all had started to cry while I was talking.

“He was sho’ ’nuff proud of all four of y’all,” Uncle Thomas interjected.

“So Lette, please don’t think that I think I’m any better than you. Just different. There’s one thing I know for sure and that is you’re not up to your long curly eyelashes in student-loan debt. And do you have any idea how long it will be before I make the kind of money you do?”

“I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.” Collette never said she was sorry about anything. Grieving did strange things to folks, for sure.