As only sistas can Part 2 of 3...short story

“Mae knows I love her, and y’all know I love Ricki to death, but that boy is about to be 16 and this is something we need to talk about. Ain’t no need for us to have these family meetings if we can’t keep it real.”

“Ricki ain’t no faggot”, Mae murmured almost inaudibly. Mae looked as if she had just been pouched by E. Holified, all the color had washed out of her face and her mouth hung half way open, as if she were finding it difficult to breath.

“I knew this was a bad idea from the start”, shouted Big Mama rising to her feet headed in Mae’s direction to offer comfort as only a Big Mama can. “Family meetings, paying dues, sharing your feelings, who ever heard of such a thing! Y’all need to keep your feelings to yourself and your mouths closed and let God handle the rest.”

“Mama this is healthy,” Lane said.

Big Mama froze in mid stride as if someone yelled “stop or I’ll shot”, and everyone again felt that uncomfortable silence grip the room as Big Mama slowly turned in Lane’s direction. Ain’t nothing healthy about calling your sister’s child “different”, said Big Mama in a slow deliberate tone.

“Mama, I’m just saying what’s on my mind and what I know has crossed y’alls’ minds at one point or another.”

“Every since you came home from Spelman you think you gotta tell everrrrrrrrrrybody what’s on your mind,” snapped Big Mama. “Spelman may have thought you a lot but you still got a lot to learn. Now apologize to your sista and this is not a request.”

“Sorry Mae”, Lane said, with a touch of sincerity, a pinch of fear and a barrel-full of embarrassment. Although Lane was approaching her thirtieth birthday, her mother’s eyes and tone transformed her into a twelve year old.

“Mama, all I am saying is that we need to talk about this so we can be there for the boy and give him the support that only his family can. Or would y’all whether wait until you find the suicide note and discuss it at his funeral.”

“Oh, Lane please, that boy ain’t going nowhere”, said Rea

“I betca that’s what Nicholas’ family thought too, and we see what happen to him.”

“Y’all hear dat”, asked Big Mama in a suspicious tone.

“Hear what?” responded Lane.

“Sound like something at dat door.” replied Big Mama

“My heart dropped.” My feet became paralyzed. Big Mama was not the passive-overly affectionate kind of grandmother like the one cast in the movie Soul Food. In fact, her most often quoted scripture was spare the rod spoil the child. She had no qualms with beating the hell out of one of her grandbabies for being mouthy or meddling in grown folks business. And although I knew I was her favorite, not even Jesus Christ in the flesh could save me from her wrath if she caught me listening at the door.

“Mama that’s the wind,” said Lane

Ooo, saved.

“Who’s Nicholas?” questioned Aunt Rea.
“You remember, the boy who was in my English class that committed suicide in the locker room at Craigmont.”

“Ooo, that’s different, he was white,” said Rea nonchalantly.

“Rea, I am not even going to go there with you,” Lane snapped.

“Jackie, why you so quiet over there, don’t you have something to say,” asked Rea.

My mother looked up with a dazed look in her eyes with tension lines forming on her forehead.

“I am sorry, what did you say, Rea.”

“I saidddddddddddd why are you over there acting like the cat got your tongue.”

Even though she couldn’t see me listening and peeping under the door, I could tell by the distress in her voice that I was at the front of her mind.

“That’s Mae’s business,” mama said.

“Well, I for one wouldn’t care,” announced Rea.

“That’s because all your kids are married and got babies of their own,” my mother whispered, unfortunately not low enough to escape Rea’s hearing.