Chapter 42 Raya
Raya
I’m too weirded out to eat.
My mother just talked to me.
The banquet hall reminds me of the church basements we used to sit in after service when I was younger. Back when my parents were still together and Connie dragged us all there every Sunday.
I don’t miss it.
While Ace is getting his food, I sit at a small round table covered with a dirty white tablecloth.
I don’t know any of these people. These mourners.
I don’t know where they came from our how they knew my brother.
And I don’t wanna know, because I don’t care.
I don’t even know why I came. Tori had the right idea; too bad I didn’t follow her lead.
Ace comes back with a plate full of fucking nonsense, and he’s not sitting for a full minute when my mother waltzes up to us.
“I got us a room.”
Oh, well, that makes up for everything.
Ace stands, then pulls me up, and we follow behind Medusa. She leads us to a small room off the main hall that probably doubles as overflow for people and coats and foil pans of food.
“This is my husband, Ace,” I say. “And I want him to stay. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of him.”
“Congratulations,” she deadpans. “I heard you got married.”
I chuckle at the absurdity. “What do you need?”
She sits across from me and folds her hands in her lap. Ace stays by my side, chewing on a Hawaiian roll right in my damn ear.
“Do you want an explanation?”
I blink slowly. “For what?”
“For leaving you.”
I lean back in my chair, resting against the cushion. The metal legs squeak on the tile, breaking the silence.
“Not really. You did what was right for you, and it is what it is.”
Connie frowns like she was expecting something else. “You seem cold.”
“Should I be warm towards you? I barely know you.”
She flinches. “I was trying to survive, Raya. Your brother understood.”
“I’ll never know if that’s true or not, because I can’t go across the street and ask him.”
She nods. “It’s fine. I guess I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?” she says.
“That your husband was sneaking into my room a few times a week.”
She goes as pale as a brown-skinned black woman can go as her eyes flicker to Ace.
“He knows everything,” I say softly. “Me and my man don’t have secrets.”
That’s not entirely true, but I have to twist the knife.
“I—“ She shakes her head repeatedly. “Raya. No. I had no idea. I swear.”
I study her closely. The lines around her eyes. The way her hands start trembling. Her bouncing leg. The tears welling up in her eyes.
“I don’t know if I can believe you,” I finally say.
That makes the floodgates open, and here come the tears. Her shoulders are bouncing, hand over her mouth. A sound comes out that’s half gasp, half sob.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries. “No child should have to go through that.”
“Why’d you leave her?” Ace asks. I glance over at his plate, and it’s sitting forgotten on his lap.
Connie takes a minute to compose herself before she answers.
“My mother—your grandmother,” she says to me like I couldn’t make the fucking connection.
“She lost herself in her marriage. My father was mean and cold, and she spent her whole life tied to him. And to us. And I wasn’t gonna do that.
I thought maybe your father would be like mine.
My daddy was sweet to me, he was just a horrible husband. ”
Ace shakes his head.
“I was trying not to become my mother, and I…maybe I took it to the extreme.”
I shrug. “Well, I’m pregnant now, and thanks to you, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
Her red-rimmed eyes move to Ace, then back to me. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful.”
He shakes his head again.
“What? Do you have something to say to me?”
He hesitates, looking to me for disapproval, I think.
“It’s not my place,” he says. “This is between y’all.”
“Actually, I wanna hear what you have to say,” I tell him.
He sets his plate on the floor next to him and leans forward, forearms on his thighs.
“I’m pissed,” he says plainly. “This woman got stuck with a fucked up family. I mean, mine ain’t perfect, but this shit here is blowing me.
I’m over here trying to be a good husband and give her what she needs, but half the time, she doesn’t even know what she needs, and if she does, she doesn’t know how to ask. ”
That’s sweet and all, but I only really heard one thing he said.
“Babe, you are a good husband.”
He shoots me a look like I missed the point entirely. Which I guess I did. But that’s because I don’t have any skin in the game here. I don’t give a fuck about Connie.
“I’m sorry,” she says again, but I wave her off.
“Honestly, I forgave you a long time ago. You can ask Ace. I told him, I don’t think you’re a bad mother.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You don’t?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I got defensive about you because I became you.”
“What do you mean?"
“I mean I’m an evil, coldhearted, selfish bitch who doesn’t know how to love anybody but myself,” I say, all facts, no emotion. “I don’t know how to fuck I’m supposed to love a kid when I’m still trying to love myself enough to fill all the holes y’all left in my soul.”
“God,” she says softly. “That’s…that’s hard to hear.”
“Try living it, Connie. Actually, don’t. Do what you want, I don’t care. I’m not invested in any outcome with you. I just wanted to hear you out because my brother just died and I didn’t want you to also die before I got a chance to say bye. So that’s what this is.”
She nods slowly as tears stream down her face.
“And don’t pretend like you’re sad about it. It ain’t gon’ be no different for you now than what it’s been for the past however many years.”
I stand, and Ace stands with me.
“Raya,” she calls as we’re walking away. “I really, truly hope you’re able to heal. From what I did. Especially from what he did.”
But I've already detached.
“Bye, Connie," is the last thing she'll ever hear me say.
And I'm not even sad about it.