“No, he didn’t hit me. It’s not that.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Bella swore on her firstborn’s life that he’d never put his hands on her.
He must have hit one of the kids then, was the next thing that popped into Bianca’s head. “I know he didn’t touch my niece or nephew, because I will—”
“Bianca, stop it. Just stop it and quit playing with me,” Bella snapped. “What have you done? Bianca, what did you do?” Bella broke out crying.
Bianca was completely confused. “Bella, what are you talking about? I’m home. I haven’t done anything.”
“They found it, Bianca.” Bella was crying her heart out. Bianca could barely understand her.
“They found what? Who found what?” Bianca tried to get Bella to just spit it out as sweat beads began to form on Bianca’s head. Some things were starting to register. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and a sheer thrill of sadness and fear went through her entire body. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together.
It was making her go back to a very dark place that she had blocked out a long time ago and vowed to herself to not think about again . . . but now here she was, having to relive the second most painful thing she’d ever experienced in her life.
CHAPTER 7
The horrific thoughts went back to when she was fourteen years old. It was a snowy day in Virginia, and all the schools were basically out for the day. The streets weren’t bad, but the officials were worried about the back roads. She had to stay at her grandmother’s house while her mother was at work. She remembered it just like it was yesterday.
Grandma Williams pulled on her long, red wool coat and red hat. She was on her way out to play bingo. “Your fast ass need to have this house spic an’ span by the time I get back,” she said.
At times, Bianca couldn’t stand her grandmother. The woman treated Bianca like a black Cinderella. The only difference was that she wasn’t a stepchild; she was this lady’s blood. The woman wasn’t anything like any of the sweet grandmothers that she had ever seen portrayed on television. In Bianca’s eyes, she was nothing but a mean old witch. All she needed was a flying broom between her legs, some pointed toe boots, and a big black hat.
“How come I gotta be here? Why can’t I stay at my own house?”
Grandma Williams tossed a crooked smile her way. She had a gold tooth on the top left side of her mouth that always stuck its head out when she was about to get fly out the mouth, which seemed like all the damn time. “First of all, Ms. Thang, you ain’t got no damn house, your mother does,” Grandma Williams was quick to point out. “You don’t have a teacup to piss in. And secondly, if your mother hadn’t come home early and caught you with that white boy in your bed, maybe she would let you stay at home by yourself while she was at work. But that ship done sailed, much like your virginity.”
“We weren’t doing anything but studying. And he wasn’t in my bed. He was helping me study for the advanced geometry class that I’m taking.” Bianca was a virgin and always made above average grades, but math wasn’t one of her favorite subjects. She’d always preferred English and history. She asked, “When did studying become so wicked?”
Grandma Williams rolled her eyes. “Two things the Lord can’t stand,” she said, ignoring Bianca’s question, “liars and fast-ass girls.” Then, with two fingers of her right hand, Grandma Williams touched her forehead, the left side of her chest, then the right side, as if she were warding off evil spirits.
As Grandma Williams stepped out the door and got into her red Cadillac, Bianca thought, The only thing evil up in here is you. But she would never say it to Grandma Williams’s face. Not for a few more years, anyway.
At that moment, Bianca had no other choices, so as always, she did as she was told. She cleaned the house from top to bottom. She started in the kitchen, washing dishes, then she vacuumed the living-room carpet, dusted the tables, and wiped down the plastic on the sofa and chairs. After knocking out the bathroom, the only rooms left were the bedrooms and the den. Since no one was allowed in Grandma Williams’s bedroom, Bianca made her way to the den.
Uncle Peanut and two of his friends were in the den watching a football game. A team dressed in yellow pants with a thick black stripe down the side had the ball. Their quarterback threw the ball to a guy wearing white pants with red and blue trim. Peanut cursed at the TV. “That muthafuckin’ kick cost me fifty muthafuckin’ beans!” He was hot as fish grease. “Fuckin’ bums!”
One of Peanut’s friends, slim built with a bald head, ragged him. “You know got-damn well the Steelers wasn’t gonna beat no mu’fuckin’ Tom Brady,” he said. “You ain’t lose no fifty beans, nigga. You gave that bread away.”
“Pay it so you don’t owe it,” the other one said, with an open hand. “Let me get that—”
It was obvious, Bianca thought, that the team in yellow wasn’t supposed to just up and give the ball away. Even she knew that, and she knew diddly squat about football or any other sports.
Peanut looked up in her direction. “What the fuck you doin’ in here with grown folks? Don’t you see we busy?” He was only four years
