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“You ain’t hardly crazy,” her brother said, soothing her with his voice. “You was so good you used to scare Momma. I know that to be a fact.”
Jessica nodded, sniffed hard, and wiped her nose. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where all that came from.” The tears came from a deep-down pain, something she’d shoved down so far that she hadn’t remembered where she’d even buried it.
“I do,” Raphael said bluntly, but his tone was still gentle. “You’re twenty-two years old, ain’t had no fun, been living like an old lady; that’s what’s wrong with you.”
“Yeah, well, I lost my job . . . Nobody around here is hiring, really. Can’t even put up my college money anymore, much less—”
“I been done told you, girl, that if you just fill out the application to where you wa
“But that’s not right,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “You have things you wa
“I work these poles like my ass is greased lightning, honey chile, I’ll have you know. I am going to Paris again, this weekend, and will be there until fashion week, so I am living my dreams. You worry about living yours, boo.”
Jessica smiled and wiped her face, and then chuckled. “You are such a hot mess.”
“I am hot to death ’cause I drop it like it’s hot . . . So what you need?”
She couldn’t answer him for a moment. She really hadn’t thought out what she would do or what she needed. All she was sure of was that she wanted to go to New Orleans to help people survive what was hunting in their bayou.
“I honestly don’t know,” she murmured, staring out the window. “I wanted to get away . . . go to New Orleans for the weekend, but—”
“Only on two conditions,” Raphael said.
“What?” Jessica said, a new smile tugging at her cheek.
“You go to the bank and take some of that money that’s gathering dust in your college savings account . . . Get it before that sucker crashes and I have to go down there and hurt somebody—and you tell me how much you took out to go to New Orleans. I’ma send you a replacement check that you can cash when you get back. That’s the logistics—but I want you to promise me that when you come back, you’ll register for college, at least the local community college, for the fall semester.”
“But, I—”
“Uh-uh, Miss Thang. I’ve been listening to excuses for the last four years. You take your pretty little behind down there and register, since you’re jobless and all now. Go to school!”
“But how am I go
“You get you some student aid or whatever, and you let me worry about lights and food—you can work on campus; you’re below the poverty line. Anyway, that’s condition one . . . My help comes with love-strings attached. You’re too smart and got too much going for you to be wasting time like this,” he added with emphasis.
Jessica leaned against the refrigerator and smiled. “Okay. I’ll go to school, but I’ll be looking for a job.”
“Fine by me, drive yourself crazy, if you wa
She closed her eyes and tried to modulate the amusement in her voice. She loved it when her big brother fussed at her . . . It was pure love that reminded her of her mother’s tough-love tactics.
“Any more conditions?” Jessica asked, then took a slow sip of her lemonade.
“No, just the one I’ve been on you about for too long. I want you to get laid while you’re in the Big Easy; just be sure to use a condom—don’t need no babies or STD drama while you’re trying to get an education.”
Jessica spit out her lemonade and began coughing.
“That’s right, I said it,” Raphael said, now laughing. “Tell the truth and shame the devil. I may not be as good as you and Momma on the second sight, but I ain’t blind. When’s the last time you got some, girl?”
“Why you all up in my business, Raphael!” Jessica squeaked. “I don’t do that to you.”
“Huh . . . Oh, so now I’m Raphael, not Raph. Uhmmm-hmmm . . . and yes you do do that to me. See, I have to use words; you just bust into my room and look around with your third eye. Same difference.”
“I do not!” Jessica shouted, laughing. Her face burned, and she pushed away from the refrigerator and began walking through the trailer.
“Yes, you do—don’t lie. But we ain’t talking about me; we happen to be talking about you. Last boyfriend I remember was in high school, senior prom. Then a few fly-by-night dates, and I could tell you didn’t give any of those half-thug-wa
“You ain’t never lied,” she said, stopping by her favorite chair and flopping down in it.
“I want you to enjoy life, boo,” Raphael said in a gentler tone.
“I’m doing okay.”
“No, you’re not,” he said softly.
Jessica held the phone close to her ear and swallowed hard.
“You want what we all want . . . a prince.” He let out a long breath and then allowed his voice to dip down low. “That sure ain’t what I dragged home with me last night . . . but in a tight spot, he’ll do.”
She chuckled sadly and just shook her head.
“But you want the full package—the three Hs . . . somebody who’s go
“Yeah, I do,” she murmured, allowing her shoulders to sag.
“You don’t want to give it away and then find out he lied . . . or some other mess, right?”
Jessica just nodded and released a sad sigh.
“But since you see so much . . .”
“I see the drama coming before they open their mouths.” She sprawled out in the chair with her eyes closed, needing to hear her brother’s comforting wisdom. “The older I get, Raph, the more I can see—the more I can see in advance, the lonelier it is.”
“That’s why you need to get out of Port Arthur. Ain’t nobody there for you . . . That’s why I had to leave.”
“But I don’t know if I can do the third thing you asked me to do while just on a weekend, you know?”
“I love you, too, boo . . . I know you ain’t like me . . . and I appreciate the delicate way you tried to put that. I was just messing with you—you are definitely not a booty-call kinda girl.”
“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it over the last four years, trust me.”
“Say what!”
Jessica cringed. The last thing she’d meant to tell Raphael was that! “I mean—”
“Don’t even try to clean it up; you ca
“Raph, don’t start, okay . . . I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” Jessica let out a hard breath, opened her eyes, and stood. “I’ve gotta go.”
He laughed gently into the phone. “All right—I’ll mind my business, but I don’t want my sister losing her mind or becoming some old, dried-up prune. You go have fun in New Orleans and register for class. Maybe some tall, fine hunk who’s trying to get educated might find his way to school with you, who knows?”
“That would be a hopeful thought,” Jessica said, smiling, glad that her brother wasn’t going to continue to rant. “But, seriously,” she added in a quiet voice, “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
“That’s what family is for,” Raphael said, his tone somber and holding a tinge of wistfulness in it. “You always had my back, sis . . . You never outed me, never judged me, and always loved me—no matter what. If people talked about me, you’d come home with your nose bloody and knees all scraped up from fighting for me. Hair all wild . . . Remember those days?”
“Yeah, I do,” Jessica said, blinking back fresh tears.