On the Come Up(74)

“What your lights doing off?” says Granddaddy. “It’s that box, ain’t it? I been saying it need to be replaced.”

“No, no,” Jay says. “They were turned off by the electric company. We’re behind on a payment.”

There’s a moment of calm before the storm.

“I knew something was going on,” Grandma insists. “Geraldine said her daughter thought she saw you come into the welfare office where she works. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Lord, Ms. Geraldine. Grandma’s best friend and partner-in-gossip. Grandma says “Geraldine said” almost as much as she breathes.

“Yes, it was me,” Jay admits. “I applied for food stamps.”

“Now Jayda, you could’ve asked us for help,” Granddaddy says. “How many times I gotta tell you that?”

“I’ve got it under control,” Trey says.

“Boy, you ain’t got nothing under control,” says Granddaddy. “You ain’t got lights.”

Grandma puts her hands up. “That’s it. I done had enough. Brianna and Trey coming home with us.”

Trey raises his eyebrows. “Um, hi, I’m twenty-two, how are you?”

“I don’t care how old you are. You and Bri don’t need to be suffering like this.”

“Suffering?” Jay says. “They have shelter, clothes, I made sure they have food—”

“But they ain’t got lights!” Grandma says. “What kinda mother are—”

“The worst thing I’ve done is become poor, Mrs. Jackson!”

Jay’s loud, rough. Seems like her voice is using every inch of her body.

“The worst thing!” she says. “That’s it! Excuse me because I have the audacity to be poor!”

Trey touches her shoulder. “Ma—”

“You think I want my babies sitting in the dark? I’m trying, Mrs. Jackson! I go on interviews. I withdrew from school so these kids could have food! I begged the church not to let me go. I’m sorry if it’s not enough for you, but good Lord, I’m trying!”

Grandma straightens up. “I just think they deserve better.”

“Well, that’s one thing we actually agree on,” says Jay.

“Then they oughta come live with us,” Grandma says.

Trey puts his hands up. “No, Grandma. I’m staying here. I’m not gonna be the rope in this tug-of-war of yours anymore.”

“I ain’t ever gon’ apologize for fighting for my son’s babies!” Grandma says. “If you wanna stay here, that’s on you. I ain’t gon’ force you, Lawrence. But Brianna coming with us.”

“Hold on now, Louise,” Granddaddy says. “This girl old enough to decide for herself, too. Li’l Bit, what you want?”

I want food. I want lights. I want guarantees.

There’s this look in my mom’s eyes that I’ve seen before. It’s the one she had the day she came back from rehab. But that day there were tears in her eyes, too. She brushed my hair from my face and asked me one question: “Brianna, do you know who I am?”

That look was fear. Back then, I didn’t understand it. Now I do. She had been gone so long that she was afraid I forgot her.

Fast-forward to now, and she’s terrified that I’m gonna leave her.

I may not know if we’ll have lights again or if we’ll have enough food, but I do know that I don’t wanna be away from my mom again.

I look at her as I say it. “I wanna stay here.”

“Well, there you go,” Trey says. “You got your answer.”

“You sure, Li’l Bit?” Granddaddy asks.

I don’t look away from my mom. I want her to know that I mean it. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“All right then.” Granddaddy takes out his wallet. “’Bout how much is this light bill, Jayda?”

“I can’t pay you back anytime soon, Mr. Jackson.”

“Hush. I ain’t said nothing ’bout paying nobody back. You know good and well Junior would have a fit if I didn’t—”

Grandma’s lips tremble. She turns on her heel and hurries out. The front door slams shut behind her.

Granddaddy sighs. “Grief one hell of a thing. I think Louise holds on to these kids ’cause it’s like holding on to him.”

Granddaddy looks through his wallet and places some money in my mom’s hand. “Call me if you need me.”

He kisses her cheek and kisses mine. Then he pats Trey on the back and leaves.

Jay stares at the money for the longest. “Wow,” she says thickly.

Trey rubs her shoulder. “Hey, Li’l Bit. Why don’t you get my keys and take our phones out to my car? Charge them up.”

That’s code for “Jay needs some space.” I think she’ll cry in front of Trey before she’ll cry in front of me. That comes with him being the oldest.

I make myself nod. “All right.”

I go out and crank his Honda up. Trey’s got one of those chargers that’ll handle multiple phones at once. I hook his and Jay’s up. Just as I pick up mine, it rings.

Damn. It’s not Aunt Pooh. Instead, Supreme’s name appears on the screen.