CHAPTER SIX
In her hotel room that night, she stood on the balcony, a glass of wine in her hand, and watched the city come to life in lights and traffic. It wasn’t a big town, but it was a lively town, and she’d give it high marks for that. But it was nothing like Memphis.
Memphis, she thought. So many things to do. So many places to go. She missed it immensely. But after Jaleesa, it got too big for her. It felt as if she was drowning in it. It felt as if she could no longer function in the city of her birth because everywhere she turned on every street corner, in every marketplace, every club, every school, every grocery store, every theater, all reminded her of her child. Of all those places they used to go. Or where she had to pick her up from. Or where her friends invited her to attend. And she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. She fired the shot that killed her child. How on earth was she supposed to stay there and live there and pretend it didn’t happen?
But that was exactly what everyone wanted her to do. To pretend. To push through. To get over it. And when she couldn’t, they pretended and pushed through and got over her . One day she had mountains of friends. The next day she was all by herself.
She took a sip of her wine and watched the young people stand in line outside a club down the street. They seemed so happy. So full of life. Just like Jaleesa would have been. Because she would have been twenty years old and probably completing her sophomore year of college. Which was supposed to be their grandest time where she would be an adult and they would go from being just mother and daughter, to best friends.
Instead, Jaleesa was gone. Marti was no longer a police officer. And she was standing on the balcony of a town she’d never heard of until she was assigned to its police department, and forced to deal with a man that was as obnoxious as he was thoughtful.
Thoughtful? Was that how she saw him? Just because he listened to a different point of view? Just because he did his job, he was thoughtful? She smiled and shook her head. Had her old friend Kamille been there she would have told her to get a grip. That old white guy was thoughtful? The same guy that left her in the dust when she asked if she could go along with him to the crime scene? Girl bye , Kamille would have said. You need to find yourself a man !
But even their friendship could not withstand the weight of the guilt Kamille felt for bringing Andy to Jaleesa’s sweet sixteen party, and what happened when Andy shot one of the guests, forcing Marti to shoot him.
She leaned her head back and began to move it around as she fought to change the subject. Anything would do.
She continued to look at the young people, and critique their clothing, their body language, even their motivations. Until even that became tiresome. She finished her drink, took another long shower, and then took herself to bed.
She laid in bed, on her side, in the quietness of the night, as a stranger in the night, and cried herself to sleep.