Both Delilahand Mollygasped. Tookie tookthe dancer’s confession in stride. In this line of business,tales of woe came with the territory.
Celeste started up anothercombination, her feet scuffingout a solemnrhythm whichrivaled her sob story. “In all honesty,” she continued.“I’m mad at myself for running away all these years. AndI’m mad I never toldthat Holier than thou son of a bitch to go to hell.”
“Everything happensfor a reason,” Mollycountered.
“And there’salways a rainbow at the end of a storm,” Delilahchimed in.
Tookie rolled her eyes. She’d fallen into a sappy melodrama.
Celeste paused in the middleof a riff, landing on the ball of her foot. “I do have a reasonto be happy,” she acquiesced. “I’m finally goinghome.”
The way she worded ‘goinghome’ lifted the hairs on the back of Tookie’sneck. On one hand, she welcomed the news. On the other, the dancer’sdeparture would leave Tookiewith only one star attraction for the rest of the season. And they’donly completed thefirst leg of atwenty-two city tour!
Tookiegroaned. No amount of coaching would turn Wilma into a headlinerovernight. Feeling the noose tightening around her throatTookie asked,“So,you’releaving the Follies?”
Not knowing she held theshow’s future in her hands, Celeste shrugged.“I don’t know what tomorrow brings.” She held herhands out to Mollie and Delilah. Tweedledum and Tweedledee fell inline like sycophants. “One thing I am certain of is the bottleof Jack in my hotel room and how it should be savored with goodfriends.”
Tookie let them go.
With her leverage nowdeceased, she could no more stop Celeste intent on a bender than shecould stop a runaway locomotive.
CHAPTER TWO
Two days later and shortlyafter midnight, Celeste Newsomearrived atPenn Station via B&O’s Capital Limited. No longer havingroots in New York, she settled in with her cousin Trudy whomaintained a flat in the same Brooklyn neighborhoodthey’d grown up inas kids.
If left up to her, Celestewould’ve dug a hole in an empty lot, thrown her father in anole pine box and be done with it. Butasa respected pillar of the community, she guessed her father deservedbetter than that. Thankfully, herfather’s attorney had taken care of all the arrangements. Allthat was required of her was payingher respects.
Considering she had littlerespect for Cecil “The Reverend” Newsome, Celeste arrivedat Friday’s wake a couple of hours late and thirty minutes shyof closing. Despite having a liver of steel, a testament to the pintof gin she guzzled down beforehand, Celeste couldn’t stomach athrong of well-wishers, heralding her with stories of her father’sgenerosity and compassion.
She already knew everywinter he bought shoes for the homeless. That he helped open acommunity soup kitchen shortly after the stock market crashed. AndeveryChristmas Eve he allowedthe neighborhoodchildren to take as much candy as they could carry.
Over the years, she remainedapprised of all his saintly exploits from her cousin Trudy. Aself-avowed drag king,they co-shared her father’s condemnation. So it was a greatrelief, the very same cousin walkedbeside her.
Per her father’srequest, his wake was held at Kelly Funeral Home, while the actualfuneral was scheduled the following morning at Abyssinian BaptistChurch.
Nestled in the small bedroomcommunity of Bedford-Stuyvesant, Kelly’s was unique in that itwas the only mortuary in the entire borough that performed burialsfor coloreds.
In spite of the presenteconomy, business kept chugging away. So much, her father’swake had been the fourth one held today.
“I’m fully awarethis wasn’t a coincidence,” Trudy whispered as theywalked down the aisle,each footfallechoingthroughthe viewing room.
“Can’t getanything past…”
Celeste steps slowed.
Framedby a pair of stainedglass windows and more flowers than she could count, herfather’s casket loomed large and solitary like an island on toitself. Celeste lingered at the first pew.
“He…hel−l−looks like he’s sleeping,”shewhispered taking in his charcoal suitand theBible restingin his hands. Despite appearing two shades darker and abaldingpate, herdaddy looked exactly the same.
Celestesqueezed her eyes shut. She’dswore shewouldn’t break down.Her resolvemissed the telegram and essentially felllike a stack of dominoes. Her vision blurred with tears and eachsubsequent breath became more and more difficult. Accepting Trudy’ssupporting arm, Celeste slidinto thepew.
“I feel so stupid,”Celeste hiccupped through a watershed of tears.
“Why?Because you’rebeing human and not some hard-hearted Hannah?” Trudy reachedinto her suit jacket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.“He might have been an ornery cuss, but he’s still yourdaddy.”
“Too bad he forgot.” Celeste dabbed at the tear rolling down her cheek. “What kindof father nicknames his only child Jezebel?”
Trudy opened her mouth. Herexpression clouded and she abandonedher pep talk. Celeste mentally shrugged. Hardarguing with the cold, hard truth.
Celeste wiped away her tearsand moved to the edge of her seat. She almost stood up when apetite, nattily dressed man with a gold ‘STAFF’ pinfastened to his lapel suddenly appeared in front of her.
“On behalf of theowner, welcome to Kelly Funeral Home. Are you family, friends oracquaintances of Mr. Cecil Newsome?”
“Family,” Trudyreplied. “I’m his niece and this is his daughterCeleste.”
At the mention of Celeste’sname, the man’s bushy eyebrows jumped skyward. Smiling, hereached inside his suit jacket and retrieved a white calling card.
“We’re so gladhis family finally showed up. I’ve only seen friends andacquaintances thus far.” Helookedat the card anda pang of guilt sliced through her.
“Mr. EarlyPercy, your father’s solicitor, was here. He waited around anhour or so, but he leftfor another engagement. Beforeleaving, he left his contactinformation.”He held out the card. “Yourfather’s estate has taken care of all the funeral arraignments. However, there are some final details of your father’s will,whichneed ironingout.”
In an act of politeness,Celeste took the calling card from him and slipped it into herclutch. Even from the grave, her father wasn’t finished withher.
“If you ladies wouldexcuse me, we have another well-wisher.” Celeste followed theundertaker’s gaze to the bullet she’d almost dodged.
“Obviouslylost and lookingfor directions.”
Celeste silentlyagreed with her cousin’s observation asher gazetraveledover the egg
