Worth a Thousand Words (12 page)

“You’ve . . . had . . . a lot . . . of . . . those lately,” Melba said. “It . . . will . . . get better. We . . . both . . . will . . . get better.”

Aunt Melba’s confidence made her smile.

“You will at a rate faster than me, it appears,” Indigo said. “You’re doing great, Aunt Melba. It won’t be much longer before you’ll be walking these blocks with me instead of having to ride.”

Aunt Melba nodded. “I’ve already . . . talked to . . . God . . . about it,” she said. “. . . You?”

Indigo pushed in silence for a few more blocks. What about her? She wished she could pour out her heart to Aunt Melba like she used to and get her honest feedback on everything. But she didn’t want to burden her ailing aunt with issues that seemed trivial in comparison to the effort to recover from a stroke.

“I don’t talk to God like I know I should,” Indigo finally said. “I hate to admit it, but I guess I’m frustrated with him. I know I have no right to be. Who am I to be mad because things aren’t going so well in my life right now? I don’t want to feel this way, but I just don’t understand. I’ve always served him and been faithful.” She sighed in frustration. “I don’t understand.”

Before Aunt Melba could respond, a woman across the street interrupted them.

“Indigo Burns! How are you?”

Indigo raised her eyes and smiled when she saw Vanessa Little-john, one of her girlfriends from high school. She was coming down the walkway from one of the brick and stone mini-mansions that Indigo admired when they walked this route.

Vanessa, dressed in a classic short-sleeved navy pantsuit and open-toed navy pumps, trotted across the street and gave Indigo a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in ages! You look wonderful!” she said to Indigo.

“Well, you look fabulous,” Indigo told Vanessa, before introducing her to Aunt Melba.

“What are you doing these days?” Vanessa asked. “Do you live in this neighborhood?”

Indigo scrambled for a quick answer that wouldn’t require too much detail.

“My parents live here,” she said. “I’m home with them for the summer, but I’ve been accepted to grad school in New York to work on my master’s in photography and the program starts in August.” She didn’t mention Brian, the wedding, or the fact that these days she was trying to keep her head up. “What about you?” Indigo asked.

“My aunt and uncle live here,” Vanessa said and waved at the house from which she had emerged. “I’m house-sitting for them while they’re in Europe. My uncle landed a new contract for his company and he’s working there for six weeks. My aunt’s just there to shop! This worked out great for me, because my parents moved to St. Louis a few years ago and sold their home here. I landed a job at IBM and they decided to send me to the Jubilant satellite office until the fall, when they’ll transfer me to Dallas. So life is great!”

Indigo mustered a smile and prayed the conversation would end soon.

“It’s so good to see you, Indigo,” Vanessa said and gave her another light hug. “I always knew you would do great things. You keep up the good work.”

Vanessa strode to a red Corvette parked in her aunt and uncle’s driveway and jumped in. She waved cheerfully as she sped away.

Indigo stayed put for a few minutes after Vanessa was gone, staring at the house and processing what had just transpired. She wasn’t sure what she should be feeling, but she knew it shouldn’t be the envy she recognized.

Where was the Indigo she always thought she was?

22

I
f Indigo didn’t have answers, it seemed her father did—for her and for Yasmin.

“Why are we having a family meeting on a Friday night?” Yasmin asked in exasperation,when she, Indigo, and their parents gathered in the family room at the designated time. Aunt Melba had been invited but had declined to participate, citing the need for them to move forward as if she were back in her own home, which she hoped to be soon.

“Tonight was best for my schedule,” Daddy said and leveled his gaze at Yasmin, warning her that she was bordering on disrespectfulness. “You got any other questions?”

She shook her head, sat back on the sofa, and crossed her arms.

Indigo sat in a similar position, waiting to hear what her parents had on their minds.

Both of them usually led the discussion, but it seemed that Daddy wanted to have a talk with his daughters tonight.

“I called this meeting because your mama and I have been watching both of you closely, and we’re worried about you.”

Yasmin frowned. Indigo didn’t respond.

“Yasmin, we know you want to be a model, and you have the beauty, the build, and the height to achieve your goal,” Daddy said. “But you’ve begun to play with fire in your quest to have your cake and eat it too. Forgive the pun, but it’s true.”

Indigo had no idea where her father was going with this. She watched Yasmin’s reaction to see if the teenager did.

Yasmin’s eyes grew wide. “Daddy, what are you talking about?” she asked. “Can you speak plain English?”

Mama chimed in. “We know you’re making yourself throw up after you eat, Yasmin.”

The deer-in-the-headlights expression that filled Yasmin’s face told Indigo her mother’s declaration was true.

“Yasmin!” Indigo said. “What on earth?”

“Bulimia is serious, Yasmin,” Daddy said. “You can’t keep doing that to your body and think there won’t be consequences. You’ve got to stop or get help to stop.”

Scenes raced through Indigo’s mind of her sister’s recent eating patterns and it all made sense: Yasmin gorging on pancakes for breakfast, eating several servings of cake back-to-back, constantly weighing herself on the bathroom scale, or running to the bathroom after a meal. God help her.

Yasmin lowered her eyes.

“Yasmin?” Mama prodded.

The girl lifted her head and looked at her parents. “I didn’t mean to start this,” she said as tears spilled down her cheeks. “A girl at school who models in Dallas told me she does it to get ready for auditions and for her photo shoots. She insisted that it beats dieting. I tried it because I was curious, and it just got easier each time. Now I don’t know if I can stop.”

Indigo reached for her sister’s hand.

“It’s okay, baby,” Daddy said. “We’re not asking you to try to do this on your own. We’re here to help you. We’ll get you professional help if necessary.”

Yasmin’s tears turned into sobs. She covered her face with both hands and sank farther into the sofa. Indigo slid closer and pulled Yasmin into her arms.

“I’m here for you too, sis,” she said and hugged her. “You can beat this, okay?
We’ll
beat it.”

She held Yasmin until the tears abated and the girl had composed herself.

Mama walked over and held out her arms. Yasmin stood up and towered over her mother. She stooped to wrap herself in Mama’s embrace.

When both of them had returned to their seats, Daddy looked toward Indigo.

“We’ve been watching you and praying for you too, Indigo,” he said. “Hearing the news at twenty-two that you have a chronic illness is pretty tough. That’s a lot to handle at your age. But I have six words for you baby: Get up and dust yourself off.”

Indigo was stunned. Where had that missive come from? “Daddy, what do you—”

“I mean that we’ve let you wallow in your pity and grief, or whatever you want to call it, long enough,” Daddy said. “We understand that you’re feeling bad about the glaucoma diagnosis and about what happened with the newspaper internship, but guess what? The world keeps revolving and we have to keep moving with it.

“So you’ve got a little health issue to contend with—you can handle it,” he said. “So you had a minor career setback—minor because it was an internship, not a full-time job—you can get over it. So you’re wondering whether to go to grad school, get married, or both—if you get your head out of the sand, God will make his vision for your life plain. You have to be open to hearing from him.

“So buck up and get up. It’s time, you know.”

Indigo felt strangely calm about being knocked out of her selfabsorption. “Yes, I know, Daddy. It’s time to be a big girl now. But how?”

He and Mama traded glances before Mama responded.

“We’re not going to figure it all out for you, because you’re an adult now and you need to learn to make your own decisions, deal with the consequences of your mistakes, and accept responsibility for your life,” Mama said.

“That’s right,” Daddy interjected. “A lot of this you’ve got to do on your own. We do have one thing lined up for you, though, and that’s a job.”

Indigo sat up straighter. “You’re kidding. Who is going to hire me?”

Daddy smiled.

“Aunt Melba,” he said. “She needs help keeping the business side of the salon on track until she’s ready to return. We discussed and fretted over who should temporarily take over and whether we needed to find an outside professional when God placed your name on my heart, and your mother’s—unbeknownst to either of us until we talked two days later.

“It’s time to get out of that bed, Daughter,” Daddy said. “You’re going to work at Hair Pizzazz. As you know, the shop is closed on Mondays and opens at ten a.m. sharp Tuesday. You need to be there by nine.”

23

S
ix down, six more to go.

   Brian kept track of how many weeks he had left in Rhode Island to reassure himself that soon he’d be moving to the next phase of his dream. Not that he was faltering physically or mentally. He was just ready to get back to the real world.

This morning, he and his classmates had been ordered out of bed before dawn to run three seven-minute miles. Never mind that it was Saturday, or that most of them had spent the night before in the city, drinking and picking up women—this was their reminder that they had to be on call, ready to perform well whenever necessary.

Brian had joined his bunkmates, Todd and Greg, for dinner at the Brick Alley Pub before coming back to campus to catch a movie in the rec room. He had spent the rest of the evening on his cell phone, catching up with all that had been going on with Indigo.

He couldn’t believe her dad had ordered her to go to work. Then again, Mr. Burns was right—she didn’t need to wallow in self-pity the whole summer. She’d never bat another home run if she didn’t step up to the plate again. Brian hadn’t told her that, though. He had been sympathetic and reassuring.

It didn’t escape him that Indigo had failed to mention their wedding. He hadn’t prodded. Maybe her going to work would be just the thing to make her feel better and get everything finalized.

This morning’s run was nearing an end, and his thoughts shifted to what he would do the rest of today. Gunnery Sgt. McArthur had given the class liberty until Monday morning.

“Are you ready to head back, Harper?” Greg wanted to shower and clean up after their run.

“Yeah, Kemper,” Brian said. He fell in step with his bunkmate, and they jogged from the training field to the barracks in less than ten minutes.

“What are you going to do with your free time?” Brian asked.

Greg grinned. “Eat some lobster, meet some ladies, and remember what it’s like to party. I hung out a little while last night, but something told me that McArthur was going to pull a stunt like he did this morning. I didn’t want to be in too bad a shape to perform. Now that that’s over, it’s on.”

Brian shook his head. “I’m trying to keep my nose clean. I want the leaders to notice me for all of the right reasons. Besides, my girl at home is planning our wedding. Ain’t nothing here for me.”

They reached the barracks and stopped on the front lawn of the building to catch their breath.

“Come on, Harper,” Greg said. “Live a little. You aren’t married yet. If you don’t have a little fun now, when will you?”

Brian laughed and led the way inside. “Who said fun had to end with ‘I do’?”

Greg sat on his bunk and removed his sneakers. “What makes your lady so special?”

Brian sat across from him, on his own bunk, and leaned back to grab a framed picture of Indigo from a makeshift nightstand.

On the photo, they were snuggling, and Indigo’s smiling face filled the frame. He passed it to Greg.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, man,” Brian said. “Just so you know her when she visits next weekend, this is Indigo.”

Greg nodded and passed the picture back to Brian. “She have any sisters?”

Brian laughed and stood up to stretch.

“Too young for you, my friend,” he said. “Listen, I’ll join you and the guys for dinner tonight and decide what to do from there.”

Hours later, they wound up at a restaurant that played live music, and Brian was glad he had come.

The riffs from the reggae band and the camaraderie among senior officer candidates and OCS leaders who were usually stonefaced and barking orders reminded Brian that they were real people too.

Brian enjoyed a plateful of grilled shark, roasted vegetables, and potato salad, and ordered a draft beer to wash it down. He wasn’t a regular drinker, but tonight he thought he’d treat himself. Besides, he didn’t want everyone ragging on him for guzzling soda instead.

Just as he took his first sip, he looked up and into Shelby’s eyes.