Full Figured 16, page 17
Kendall nodded. “I know. That’s why you should do it.”
Deena carefully cradled the angel in her hands, and then she stepped up the ladder beside the tree. She positioned the angel atop the tree so that it was upright and secure, then eased back down the ladder. Then the three women stood back and marveled, taking in the end results of the labor that Kendall and Amber had put in for the past few hours. The tree, in Kendall’s eyes, was perfect.
“The angel has been placed atop the Christmas tree. We know what that means,” Deena whispered.
“Time for the magic to begin.” Amber smiled.
Kendall nodded. “Exactly.”
“I wonder what Aunt Nichole is going to task us with this year,” Amber mused, staring at the tree topper.
Kendall shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll soon find out.” Without fail, every year since her death, Nichole’s mother, it seemed, sent each of them what they’d come to call “angel assignments.” These assignments weren’t as simple as serving meals at the local shelter or organizing the successful toy drive they held each year in the boutique. No, they usually involved unusual circumstances that seemed to come out of nowhere. For instance, one year Deena paid the hotel bill for a traveling family of four whose car had broken down in front of the store. Another year Amber treated one of their clients’ entire fourth grade class to a presentation of The Nutcracker after the funding from the school fell through. Kendall lost count of how many times she had paid tabs at restaurants or grocery stores because someone didn’t have enough money.
“She’s right.” Deena laughed. “We never have to wait too long once the angel is in place. That thing is like a bat signal for the Christmas holidays.” Deena’s tone went from pleasant to direct as she shifted gears. “We need to get in place for the busy day ahead, and the two of you need to get changed. Doors open in fifteen minutes. I hope there’s a cup of coffee waiting for me, since you two have some.”
Kendall glanced at the two cups of Starbucks that she had had delivered as soon as the app allowed her to order. “Of course. Yours is waiting for you in your office.”
Deena smiled. “Good. I can’t be upset about your drinking coffee on the showroom floor if I’m doing the same, right?” She walked away, then suddenly stopped and turned back. “Great job on the display, ladies, but let’s get these leftover decorations put away and let’s play more fitting music,” she added. “The holiday songs are fine, but find something a little less urban. Staff meeting in ten minutes, so get to it.”
“I swear, I love that woman, but she gets on my nerves,” Amber hissed when Deena was out of earshot. “She should’ve been the one bringing coffee to us, instead of asking if there was some for her. And what the heck does ‘less urban’ mean? Since when are the Jackson 5 considered urban? Has she forgotten that she’s black too?”
“Deena knows that, Amber. The problem is she’s bourgeois,” Kendall said as they packed up the remaining Christmas decorations. “She also looks at how everything will affect her bottom line. Look at the caliber of our clientele. They’re just as siddity as she is, and so is everyone else who works here. You and I are the only cool kids.”
“You stay defending her, but I get it.” Amber sighed and picked up the box with the decorations. “I hope when you start your own fashion line, you don’t become ‘less urban’ and you keep it real, meaning black.”
“Girl, you are hilarious, and you know my starting my own line ain’t happening anytime soon. I keep telling you that I’m not even close to being ready,” Kendall commented as she picked up the two now empty coffee cups.
“As far as I can see, you are ready. Your designs are incredible. The same people who pay Deena top dollar will pay you,” Amber continued, as if they hadn’t had this conversation dozens of times already. “You and I both know people are trying to get you to make stuff now.”
Kendall could admit that she did have amazing design ideas, and her sewing skills were impeccable. But starting a designer clothing line would take a lot more than artwork and a sewing machine. She knew her dream would happen one day. Until that time came, she was grateful to have a job in her field and to work for a high-end designer who paid her well and gave her the opportunity to do what she loved. And despite the fact that she had been approached about sewing projects outside the boutique, the noncompete agreement Deena had required her to sign prevented her from doing so.
“I love the way you believe in me, Am. That’s why you’re my bestie. I promise, when I start my own label, I’ll charge you only half of the retail cost for the garments.” Kendall nudged her and pointed to Amber’s skirt. “Now, hurry up, so we can change out of this ‘urban attire’ and get back out there for Insight.”
After they had cleaned up from the morning activities and had changed into their work attire, Kendall and Amber rushed back onto the floor so they wouldn’t miss the morning meeting, which Deena referred to as “Insight.” Like their boss, the entire staff wore all black. It was a requirement for everyone. Although Kendall spent most of the day in the alterations room, she was still expected to observe the rule, because there were times when she was called to assist clients. She didn’t mind the dress code. Black wasn’t her favorite color choice, but it was easy to put together black pieces. Plus, the color was slimming. Not that she felt the need to look thinner.
Kendall was quite comfortable in her curvaceous, size twenty, larger-than-average body, despite being the only plus-size employee at Diablo Designs. Her wide hips, ample DDD breasts, thick waist, and vivacious derriere worked to her advantage. Because nothing at Diablo’s went beyond a size twelve, Kendall was exempt from having to wear certain signature pieces, the cost of which would have been deducted from her paycheck. Amber, who wore a size ten, wasn’t so lucky.
Deena smiled at all the staff members gathered around. “I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving, are well rested and recharged for today. Special thanks to Kendall and Amber for the beautiful window display to welcome our clients and get them in the spirit to buy gifts.” Deena gazed at each of her employees. “In addition to fulfilling the seasonal needs of our regular customers and Christmas brides, the holidays also mean the start of something else, right?”
They all nodded and shouted in unison, “Holiday ball season!”
Chapter 2
Niya
“Niya, please sit up and put that away. The dining-room table is no place for a cell phone.”
Niya quickly slid her cell phone into her pocket and sat straight in her chair without even looking at her grandmother, who’d given her the instructions. Instead, she focused on her food, picking at the rubbery turkey bacon beside the eggs and toast. She didn’t mind the eggs but would’ve preferred regular bacon and some jelly on the dry bread instead of the pat of margarine. Deciding to make the best of her breakfast situation, Niya placed the meat and eggs on the toast and was in the process of folding it when once again, she was scolded.
“That is not the proper way to eat. I didn’t prepare a plate for you to eat a poorly constructed sandwich like it came from a cheap fast-food drive-through. Why would you do that?” her grandmother said.
Again, Niya quickly straightened up. She dropped her sandwich onto her plate and stared at it. At this point, it was as if she couldn’t do anything right, not even eat breakfast. Grandma Claudia constantly picked at every little thing. Niya didn’t make her bed properly, because the sheet wasn’t ever tucked in tight enough. Her clothes weren’t hung up correctly, because the hangers should all be facing the same direction. Not that this should have mattered, considering the fact that she had commented that Niya’s clothes were unappealing.
What does that even mean? Who am I supposed to appeal to in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers? Niya had wondered at the time.
Being at her grandmother’s house was exhausting, tiresome, and lonely. She missed her mom. It had been two weeks since the car accident that had robbed Niya of the one person who loved her no matter how she looked or the manner in which she chose to eat her breakfast. The last fourteen days felt like a continual, endless nightmare, and it all started when Mrs. Hester, the guidance counselor at her school, had come and got her out of her AP English class and had escorted her to the main office. Mrs. Hester, who was usually full of chatter, had been oddly silent. Something about her energy had seemed off.
“Am I in trouble?” Niya had asked as they walked down the vacant hallway. She knew that she wasn’t, considering the fact that other than to her two best friends, she barely talked to anyone in school.
“No, sweetheart.” Mrs. Hester put her arm around Niya’s shoulder. “Not at all.”
“Is this about the field trip to the planetarium?” Niya asked. “I told Mr. Hawkins that I’d rather do a written assignment instead of going. I’ve been to the planetarium, like, four times since third grade, and I really think it would be a pointless trip,” she explained. She also dreaded the thought of being on a crowded school bus with her rambunctious classmates for forty-five minutes, riding to a place where the only thing most of them planned on doing was fool around in the darkness instead of learning about constellations. Granted, Niya had no desire to learn about the stars, either, but she definitely wasn’t interested in getting groped by any of her classmates.
“This isn’t about the field trip.” Mrs. Hester sighed.
Niya’s anxiety increased when they arrived at the main office. As soon as she entered the glass-encased area, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and stared.
“Niya, sweetie.”
Niya was so focused on the stares that she didn’t even realize Ms. Monica, her best friend Jada’s mom, was there and had spoken to her until she was pulled into a tight hug.
“Miss Monica, what are you doing here? Where’s Jada?” Niya frowned, noticing the tears in Miss Monica’s eyes.
“Jada’s in class,” Mrs. Hester told Niya. “Come into my office, so we can talk.” Mrs. Hester guided them past the administrative area, into the guidance counselor’s suite, and then into her private office. S he sat down at her desk, and Miss Monica took one of the chairs on the other side. “Sit down, Niya.”
Niya sat, now afraid about what was happening. “Is something wrong with Jada? Is she sick?”
“No, baby, Jada’s not sick,” Miss Monica assured her as she shook her head and placed her hand on Niya’s arm. Niya noticed her glance at Mrs. Hester before she continued. “Jada’s fine. But we need to tell you something.”
“What? What is it? You’re scaring me, Miss Monica.” Niya’s heart raced even faster as she looked her in the eyes.
Miss Monica took a deep breath but became choked up when she tried to speak. Mrs. Hester walked over, gave her a tissue, and then knelt beside Niya. In that moment, Niya knew why she’d been brought to the office, why Miss Monica was there, and why everyone had been staring at her.
“My mom?” Niya whispered.
Mrs. Hester nodded. “Yes. There was an accident.”
Niya’s breathing was so hard that she saw the rise and fall of her own chest. “Accident? Where is she? Is she okay? Can you take me to her, Miss Monica?”
“Baby, she . . . she . . . is . . .” Miss Monica choked up again.
Niya jumped from her seat, nearly knocking down Mrs. Hester. “I have to get to her.”
Mrs. Hester shook her head. “Niya. She’s gone.”
Niya’s body began to shake. “You’re lying,” she responded, her voice trembling.
It can’t be true. Somebody has made a mistake. My mom is at work. She’s picking me up from Jada’s house, and we’re going to the Chinese buffet, like we do every Thursday night. Afterward, we’re heading home and getting there just in time to curl up on the couch, under her favorite blanket, and watch Grey’s Anatomy.
Ms. Monica stood and put her arms around Niya. “I’m so sorry. It’s gonna be okay.”
“We’re here for you, Niya.” Mrs. Hester rubbed her back.
“Don’t.” Niya quickly moved away from both of them. The last thing she wanted was to be touched, comforted, or held. She wanted her mother.
Niya would quickly learn that wanting and having were two very different things. There was nothing she could do to have her mother ever again. Before she could process that nightmare, a funeral was held, the casket holding her mother’s body was lowered into the grave, and Niya was packed up and moved in with her grandmother, whom she barely knew.
“May I be excused?” Niya said now, her voice barely above a whisper. Niya didn’t understand the purpose of asking permission to leave the table once she had finished with her meal. The whole thing seemed cold and formal, much like her new home and its owner.
Her grandmother looked at her, then tilted her head. “You’re finished?”
Niya nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, you may,” Grandma Claudia said with a brief nod.
Niya slid her chair back, stood, and quickly reached for her plate, which held the same amount of food as when she had sat down. The only difference was the toast, which was now bent from the makeshift sandwich that hadn’t made it to her mouth.
“We have plans this morning. I expect you to be ready to leave in thirty minutes,” her grandmother declared.
“Plans?” Niya paused.
“Yes. I have some shopping to do, and you need to get out of the house. You haven’t been out since your arrival. It will be good for you,” her grandmother told her. “Besides, the Christmas preparations for the house will start today, and the noise will be unbearable.”
She’s gotta be kidding. No way. I’m not going anywhere with her, Niya thought.
Just as she was about to voice her objection, Niya heard movements coming from the hallway, then the opening of the front door. She didn’t say another word as she walked out of the dining room. She went into the kitchen, scraped her food into the garbage, then shoved the plate into the dishwasher. Niya tried her best not to make any excess noise or bring any attention to herself as she hustled out the back door. She prayed, Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone.
“Uncle Reese!” she called out as she rounded the side of the house. When she spotted the sleek motorcycle heading down the driveway, her heart raced and she stopped, knowing there was no way she could chase him and catch up once he pulled out of the driveway. She was already out of breath. The all too familiar feeling of a knot forming in her throat caught her attention, and she tried to swallow it down, knowing that tears would soon follow. As she watched the wheels of the bike roll, her heart sank.
It’s too late.
Suddenly, just as he got to the end of the driveway, instead of pulling off, he stopped the bike. It was as if Uncle Reese had sensed her watching. He planted his feet on the pavement, then turned his torso and looked in her direction. Niya quickly waved and ran at record speed across the yard.
“I thought I heard someone calling me,” he said when she reached his side. He smiled, turned off the engine, and flipped the eye cover of his helmet up so he could look at her.
“Where are you going?” Niya asked.
“I need to go into work, grab my schedule, and talk to my boss. You know I go back to work Monday, so I gotta make sure everything’s straight,” Uncle Reese said.
“Can’t you do that later? Do you have to go now?” Niya’s voice cracked.
“Yeah, I gotta go take care of it now. What’s wrong?” He frowned. “You all right? Did something happen?”
“Not really, but . . .” Niya shrugged instead of completing her sentence. Yes, something happened, Uncle Reese. My mother died! she thought. She wanted to remind him of this in case he had forgotten.
“Niya, what’s going on?” Uncle Reese placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“Grandma Claudia, she . . .” Niya shrugged again.
Uncle Reese removed his helmet and groaned. “Oh God. What did she do now? Just tell me.”
“She says that I’ve been “cooped up” inside, and she’s making me go shopping and run errands with her,” Niya announced. “I don’t want to go, Uncle Reese. Please stay so I can hang here with you,” she pleaded.
Uncle Reese gave her a sympathetic smile. “Listen, I get it, and I understand why you don’t wanna go. But I can’t save you on this one.”
“Please, Uncle Reese. I can’t deal.” Niya shook her head.
“Yes, you can.” Uncle Reese nodded. “She’s right about your needing to get out of the house. It’s time. We’ve all gotta get back to . . . normal.”
Normal? How? Nothing about my life is normal anymore.
Again, she wondered if Uncle Reese had forgotten that she was grieving the loss of her mother. And she now lived in a strange house, one that she didn’t feel like leaving just yet.
“I’m not ready,” Niya whispered and then looked down at the ground so Uncle Reese couldn’t see the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.
“Yes, you can. You’re gonna be fine. I promise. Getting out, even though you’ll be with her, is good for you. You have to leave the house, anyway, on Monday, right?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Don’t remind me.” Niya shook her head. The thought of going to school on Monday gave her as much anxiety as the idea of running errands with her grandmother. She didn’t want to do either one.
“Trust me, I know my mother. She won’t be out for long. Especially with them here.” He motioned toward the front of the house.
Niya turned to see two vans and a large delivery truck with the name Carmichael’s Nursery on the side. A couple of men were adjusting ladders against the house, while others were unloading plastic buckets.
“What are they doing?” Niya asked.
“Decorating. Who do you think makes this place look like it belongs on the Strip in Vegas?” Uncle Reese laughed.
“They’re the ones who hang the lights?” Niya asked, watching a young guy who looked her age carrying a box with silver tinsel hanging out of the top. In the past Niya and her mother had visited her grandmother’s home only once a year: on Christmas Day. Each year, as they drove away, Niya would turn around and stare at the family mansion, lit up like a gigantic gingerbread house. All the other homes in the neighborhood had Christmas lights as well, but the Fine mansion, which sat at the back of the cul-de-sac and also happened to be the largest, was the brightest of them all. People would come for miles just to see it. “
