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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781477280928 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 10/22/2012 |
| Pages: | 252 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.57(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Wanda's Girls
By Skyler Tori Sampson
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Skyler Tori SampsonAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-8092-8
Chapter One
"I can't believe he's dead."Brandice Cartel hadn't moved a muscle in over an hour. Tear-drenched mascara ran down her sun-blazed face, colliding with the snot dripping from her nose. She didn't bother using tissues to clean herself, because in a matter of seconds she would look the same again. So instead, she just sat there in a state of disbelief.
"I can't believe Daddy is dead." She spoke to herself because no one else was in the room with her. After the burial of her father, Brandice had ridden back to her parents' home in the black limousine and locked herself in her old bedroom. Family and friends were gathered in the family's living room to pay their respects and to bring food by. People had been knocking on her door for over an hour, but Brandice didn't want to see or speak to anyone but her father. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen again because he was dead. It still didn't seem real to her. Just last week they had eaten lunch at a restaurant on Newbury Street like they did every Tuesday. They loved this restaurant because of the live jazz band that featured a woman who could give Lena Horne a run for her money. Her father had seemed healthy and in good spirits as always. They had laughed and talked about politics, world news, and when she was going to settle down and give him some grandchildren. All the usual stuff. He wasn't sick, she told herself. It had to have been more than a stroke that killed her father, because he was too strong a man to let a stroke take his life. He was her superman, always there to save her from any harm that came her way. He had saved her on the first day of kindergarten when she forgot her lunch at home. He left work to bring it to her and even sat in the cafeteria while she ate the bologna and cheese sandwich her mother had prepared the night before. He had saved her when she first had her period in middle school and didn't have a change of clothes or a sanitary napkin. Her father had picked her up from school and they had gone shopping for everything she needed. Brandice remembered how she had gone numb with embarrassment when he had asked the clerk for a "starter kit" of sanitary napkins. When she was in high school and stressing over the SATs, he had tutored her for months, patiently walking her through quadratic equations and college prep vocabulary words until she felt confident in her knowledge. He had even sent her snack-filled packages every week when she went away to college and felt homesick for the very first time in her life. Her father was always there for her, and now she would never get to tell him how much he meant to her. How much she loved him and wanted to marry someone just like him one day. She wanted to tell him that he meant the world to her and that she missed him already. She wanted to tell him that he was the best father in the world.
Brandice allowed her body to fall back on the firm mattress, the first real movement she'd made in hours. She folded her legs until her feet touched her back and rested her head on her hands. Her eyes darted around the room, not really focusing on much of anything. The light was off, but there wasn't complete darkness due to the curtains being open, letting a ray of light illuminate one side of the room. Her stomach growled piercingly, but she couldn't bring herself to leave her room and face all those people. Everyone would stare at her and ask her how she was holding up. And the only thing she'd be able to say is, "I'm hanging in there." It wasn't the truth, but it was the only thing people would accept. If she told them the truth, that she was a mess inside and hadn't slept in days, they wouldn't know how to respond. People didn't understand death until it hit them directly in the face. Only when it turns your whole life upside down do you truly understand the power of death. The realization that someone so important to you could be here one second and gone forever in the next puts life in a new perspective, she thought. The second she heard that her father had passed away, Brandice had known her life would never be the same. Her superman had saved her for the very last time.
A soft knock took Brandice out of her memories. She ignored it the first time, hoping that whoever it was would comprehend that she didn't want to be bothered. But the knock came again, this time accompanied by a familiar voice. "Ice, come on and let me in. I know you're not sleeping." It was her best friend, Junior. It was almost inevitable that they would be stuck to each other like glue since their parents were close friends and Junior was just under a year older than Brandice. But the two had had a special relationship ever since second grade, when she taught him how to jump rope for their school's annual Olympic games. They were paired together for the competition and were inseparable ever since. "Let me in, Ice." He knocked again. "I won't stop until you let me in, sweetheart."
Brandice pulled herself off the bed. She slowly dragged her feet to the door and opened it slightly, leaving just enough room for him to come in but no one else. Junior closed and locked the door behind him. "I brought you a plate." He handed her a paper plate stacked with finger foods. Brandice nibbled on a grape and fell back onto the bed. She felt as though her body weighed a ton rather than the hundred and thirty pounds she actually was.
"I'm here for you, Ice. No matter what you need me to do for you, I'm here." He bit into a cube of pepper jack cheese. "If you want to stay locked in this room for weeks, then I will stay locked in here with you. I just want you to know that you're not alone. I will always be here for you." He bent down and placed a light kiss on her forehead.
Brandice grabbed Junior's hand and pulled his body closer to hers. "Lie with me," she instructed in a soft cry. He was the only person who she wanted to be around right now. Junior took off his black suit jacket and threw it over a chair in the corner of the large room before getting on the bed and lovingly wrapping his arms around her body. They lay together, her back to his chest, in silence for a while. Brandice fell in and out of a light sleep before she said, "I can still hear his voice in my head. It's so clear, like he's still here."
"That's because he will always live in your heart and in your memory."
She turned in his arms to face him. "But I wonder if his voice will always be this clear. I don't want to forget his voice, or his laughter, or the way he smelled."
"You won't," he told her. "Because if you start to forget, then I will remind you. Together we will remember everything about your father. I promise."
Brandice knew that if by some chance she did start to forget her father, Junior would do what he said. He was that type of guy. He always kept his word to her; he had never let her down in their seventeen-year friendship. Junior was the only person closer to her than her parents. He had all the qualities of a good man and was loyal to the end. He reminded Brandice of her father in so many ways.
"Mama said he left me a letter. Something he wrote a while ago but never gave to me. She says it's important that I read it soon, but I don't think I'm ready to open it yet." She sniffled as the tears began to fall again. The thought that her father had had something important to tell her, that he had put it in a letter, was too much to think about right now. She could hardly look at his picture, let alone read his words.
Junior wiped her tears away with his thumb. "You don't have to open it now. There is no rush. There's nothing in that letter that can't wait until tomorrow. For now, I want you to get some sleep."
"Are you leaving?" she asked in disappointment. His presence took away the feeling of darkness that wouldn't seem to go away otherwise.
Junior shook his head. "I'll be here when you fall asleep and when you wake up."
With those words Brandice was content and tranquil enough to allow herself the first real sleep she had experienced in days.
* * *
Brandice awoke in the middle of the next day fully rested. It didn't even take her being fully alert for her brain to identify the heartache she felt. She immediately thought of her father and wondered if she would ever be able to escape this powerful internal pain. If sometime her first thoughts wouldn't be of his death. She lay with her eyes closed, listening to the voices in her parents' house. She pulled the comforter more tightly around her body and yawned. Forcing her eyes open, she rubbed the sleep from them and lifted her body out of bed, falling back on the first effort but succeeding on the second. She grabbed her satin robe off the back of her door before walking out of it. She walked down the staircase, tying her robe around her waist.
"Good morning, Mom," she said, entering the kitchen where her mother sat at the table with Junior. "How are you doing?"
Her mother was a rather tall woman with long blond hair and oval-shaped blue eyes. She was a second-generation German immigrant whose family fled to America after World War II. Brandice knew very little about her grandparents, who had virtually disowned her mother when she married Daniel Cartel, a black man.
She had only one distinct memory of her grandmother. Brandice couldn't have been more than five years old when she came to visit one summer. It was the first time Brandice had seen the woman who looked so much like her mother. She remembered her grandmother telling her daughter that Brandice would've been just as beautiful as the two of them if it weren't for the "nigger" features she had inherited from her father. A few more words were exchanged between the two women before Brandice's mother finally asked her to leave. That was the first and last time she saw her grandmother.
Brandice's mother was the polar opposite. She was the kindest, most caring woman. She never raised her voice or lifted a hand to anyone. Even through the sudden death of her husband, she still remained composed. In Brandice's eyes, she was beautiful on the inside and out.
"Fine, sweetheart. And how are you?" Her mother went to the coffee maker, poured her daughter a cup, and handed it to her. "I'm glad you finally got some sleep." She kissed Brandice's forehead.
"Me too." Brandice leaned against the countertop sipping her java. "What were you two discussing before I came down?"
"Why don't you have a seat, Brandice. We really need to discuss an important matter." He mother pulled out the chair between where she and Junior were sitting.
"Is there something wrong?" Brandice's heartbeat quickened, and she felt a flash of sharp pain shoot though her chest. She sat down. "I can't take any more bad news, so if it's going to be too much for me to handle, then please just don't tell me." She looked exhausted by just the thought.
Junior took her hand in his and rubbed it slowly and lovingly. "Ice, what your mother has to tell you is important because it was your father's wish for you to know."
"Know what?" she asked her mother. "What did Daddy want me to know?"
Her mother moved the plate in front of her to the side and folded her hands, resting them on the table. "I don't know why it was so important to Daniel to tell you this, but for some reason it was."
"Tell me what, Mom?" The patience she had previously was quickly disappearing. "What is going on?"
"You father wanted you to know that he was married once before," her mother blurted out.
Brandice couldn't pinpoint her mother's tone. She never heard her mother speak of her father which so much annoyance. She could tell that for some reason her mother wasn't pleased. "He was what? To whom?"
"I don't know the woman's name. All I know is that he was married and divorced by the time we met. For some reason or other, things didn't work out with him and his first wife. After they divorced, he never spoke to her again." She said the words with no emotion, as if they were rehearsed.
Brandice was lost. She didn't understand why her father would keep this secret from her for so long. The pieces weren't all there, she told herself. "So what? He was married. I don't see why that's a big deal."
Her mother turned away, gathered herself, and looked back at her daughter. Brandice knew that whatever was coming next was the clincher, the real reason behind the secret. "While married to his first wife, Daniel fathered three children. Two girls for sure, but he wasn't around for the birth of the third child, so I don't know if it was a boy or a girl."
"What?" Brandice said in disbelief. She blinked her eyes hastily as if that would change the words she had just heard. It was unnatural for her not to comprehend something that was so clearly stated to her, but this was just too unbelievable to accept. "No. Daddy wouldn't have had three children for all these years and never talked about them. He never once mentioned their names or anything. This must be a mistake."
"Sweetheart, he didn't have a relationship with them. Their mother whisked them off and made it impossible for him to contact them. I never wanted to tell you this because I didn't want to see the look on your face that's there right now. Your facial expression is that of someone who has been bamboozled or cheated out of something. I didn't want to be the one to make that face appear."
"Mom, it's not your fault. You're just the messenger." Brandice stood and began to walk back to her room. "But I was cheated out of something. My whole life I've wanted a sister. I begged you and Daddy to have another baby, and now I find out that I have two sisters, possibly three. And now, more so than before, I wish I could talk to Daddy. I wish I could ask him all the questions you can't answer, but I can't."
"Brandice, sweetheart, I don't know if this will be much help. But Daniel left you a letter that he wrote years ago. He asked me not to read it, so I can't tell you what it contains." Her mother went to the drawer next to the stove and retrieved an envelope, tightly sealed. She handed it to Brandice. "I know that this is difficult to take in all at once, but I think you should read the letter soon. It was important to your father, so I know it will be important for you."
Great. Just what she needed, more surprises. Brandice started to regret ever waking up. Yesterday she was grieving, but by the grace of God she had finally gotten to sleep, and now this. Now she finds out that her dead father had a secret life and for some reason he thought it okay to hide it from her and only bring it to her attention after he was buried six feet under.
She stood in the entryway of the kitchen holding the envelope close to her eyes. She knew the content was filled with explanatory information, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to read it.
"Ice? Do you need me?" Junior took steps in her direction.
"Always."
* * *
"Are you going to open it?"
After discussing the possibilities of what the letter might say for over two hours, Brandice and Junior sat on her bed Indian-style with the envelope between them. They both rested their chins on their fists. After going back and forth, Brandice decided that she would indeed open the letter. But every time she reached for it, a force beyond her control pulled her hand back.
"Come on, Ice. You can do it," Junior encouraged her. "How about I open it and you read it?"
"Yeah, I like that plan." She cracked the knuckles on all ten of her fingers as Junior tore open the envelope, straightened out the folded pieces of paper, and handed them to her.
"Okay, I can do this." She spoke to herself, taking the letter and pulling it to her eyes.
"Don't bother reading it aloud. I'll just wait for you to finish, and we can talk about whatever you need to," Junior offered.
Dear Brandice,
First off I want you to know how much I love you. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect child. You have been the light in my life since the day you were born. Not a day goes by when I don't thank God for you. I hope you know all of this to be true in your heart.
I am writing you this letter to explain a few things about my past. I know you would have appreciated if I would have told you this in person, but I just couldn't bring myself to disappoint you.
Over thirty years ago, I married a woman named Wanda. She was such a beautiful woman, and she had a zest for life that was contagious. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with her. Within the first year of our marriage, she gave birth to Raven, my eldest daughter. Raven was a beautiful baby, the spitting image of her mother. A year later my second daughter was born. Leila was a daddy's girl, and I adored her to death.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Wanda's Girls by Skyler Tori Sampson Copyright © 2012 by Skyler Tori Sampson. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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