What Lies Beyond the Veil(Of Flesh & Bone #1)(22)

“Writing?” Daddy said with a smirk. By this time, Momma’s lips was a straight line, and she was washing dishes so hard that they bounced and clattered against the sides of the sink.

Daddy ain’t say nothin’ else that night, and Momma ain’t stop frowning. That was the last time I heard Momma talk bout school around Daddy.

Still, not too long after that, Momma started goin’ to school. It made her always tired and grumpy, probably cause she had to work all day then go to school at night, plus do homework that kept her up all night drinking coffee and yawning. But that ain’t stop Momma. She woke up early and stayed up late and got good grades, only quitting school when Daddy stopped coming home, cause somebody had to make sure me and Nia was gettin’ to school, too.

I swallow hard. Not much has ever stopped Momma. So why would she let anything keep her away from us now?

“Hello?” Momma says again, this time louder.

“Momma, it’s me! Kenyatta.” I ain’t sure why I put my name on the end, like she forgot bout me after just a week apart.

“Hey, KB.” Her words don’t sound quite happy, but not exactly sad. There’s something strange in her voice that I don’t recognize. For a second, the thought creeps into my mind that maybe Nia was right, maybe Momma ain’t coming back, and maybe she don’t even wanna talk to me now. But I know that can’t be true. Maybe she was just watching her stories and one of her favorite characters died again, or something like that. Probably something like that.

“Whatcha doin’?” I ask, tryna sound casual.

“Just . . .” Her voice trails off. “Missing my girls.”

“I miss you, too,” I say, twisting the phone cord around my finger.

“How have you girls been doing?” Momma asks, then: “How’s Nia?” I think bout telling Momma the truth. That Nia is barely talking to me, and when she does, she’s being mean. That Granddaddy is mean, too, and don’t even want me to play with the only friends I got here. But something bout Momma’s voice sounds like she needs to hear that everything is okay.

“We’re having fun, Momma. Nia even watched me catch fireflies.” Not exactly a lie.

“Really?” Momma seems surprised. “I’m happy to hear that. I’m so, so happy.” But her voice don’t sound happy at all.

“What have you been doin’, Momma?” I think bout what I heard Charlie and Granddaddy talking bout earlier, bout some kind of treatment. Could they have been talking bout Momma? But what would she need treatment for? I mean, I don’t think she’s sick . . .

“I’ve been . . . relaxing,” Momma says, but her voice sounds more worried than relaxed. It’s like at church when people used to ask Momma how she was doin’ and she’d respond, Too blessed to be stressed, even though she was definitely stressed.

“You been at the motel?” I whisper, turning away from Granddaddy. He already told me she wasn’t there, but I wanna hear what Momma gon’ say.

Momma is quiet for a few seconds, then says, “Yes, I’m at the motel.”

I blink hard as I try to think of what to say. Momma is lying, and Momma hates when people lie. She’s always telling me and Nia that the worst thing to be in the world is a liar. So why she lying to me now, and bout something so silly?

“Oh,” I finally respond, cause I can’t think of nothin’ else. We sit in silence for what feels like forever. Then I hear a voice in the background.

“Well, I gotta go—” Momma says, suddenly talking louder.

“Who was that?” I ask, even though I figure she don’t want me to ask.

“Oh!” Momma responds quickly. “I think that was, umm, I don’t know. Maybe a housekeeper or something. I should go check it out. Bye!” Momma practically yells, then hangs up before I can respond.

I stand there with the phone still up to my ear, even after the dial tone sounds. I can’t believe Momma lied to me, and then hung up on me. That ain’t nothin’ like the Momma I knew.

“You all done?” Granddaddy taps my shoulder lightly. I circle to face him and slowly nod, placing the receiver back on the hook softly.

“You all right?”

I guess Granddaddy sees the hurt in my eyes or the confusion on my face. I shrug.

“What happened?” Granddaddy asks, following me to the couch. I sit down and shrug again.

“Kenyatta, tell me—” Granddaddy begins, but by then I got my own questions.

“Where is Momma at?” I ask, voice steady.

Granddaddy sighs and lowers his head. “Your momma is a grown woman. Ain’t none of mine or your business where she at, Kenyatta.”

“I’m her daughter,” I reply, heart beginning to beat faster. “Don’t I get to know where my own momma at? Especially since my daddy just died and I ain’t got nobody else?”

Now when Granddaddy looks at me, his eyes are wet. But he still don’t budge. “I know you miss your momma, but we just gotta wait for her to get—” He cuts himself off quickly, then finishes. “We gotta wait until she comes back. That’s all.”

My head is spinning with all kinds of questions. First, Momma left us here with no warning. Then Charlie was asking bout her all weird, and now Granddaddy being weird, too. And Momma ain’t at the motel, like she s’posed to be. Who knows where she’s even at, since nobody won’t tell me nothin’. I feel tears starting to form, but not cause I’m sad. “Why you won’t answer me, Granddaddy?” I yell. “Why everybody keepin’ secrets from me?”