aimlessly drove five miles an hour traveling west on Lake Mead Road. Glaring out my passenger window as we passed Wal-Mart, I didn’t want to relive the fun times I had with my sister shopping when we were teenagers, fearing we may never shop together again.
After we graduated from high school, Sunny only went to Wal-Mart to appease me. She preferred to shop at Saks or Bloomingdales.
Honk! Honk!
Creeping in the slow lane, Daddy quietly sat behind the mahogany steering wheel peering through the windshield as he merged onto Interstate 15 heading north.
Unexpectedly moisture seeped between my thighs. As I clamped my buttocks, what felt like blood trickled into my panties and wouldn’t stop. This was not a good sign.
“Daddy, please go back. Let’s just go home,” I pleaded, thankful I’d worn black slacks.
Lord, what’s happening to my sister? I wondered.
I bit into a piece of sugarcoated ginger. “Ouch!” A sharp pain hit me. Staring at the dried fruit, I pinched my two front teeth to make sure they were there. Heavily my hand fell from my mouth to my lap like a piece of lead.
“Baby girl, with all your distractions you shoulda stayed home with your mama.”
Daddy was oblivious of my uncharacteristic behavior. Mama would’ve read Sunny’s signs through me and asked tons of questions by now. My daddy didn’t know where to go, but I could tell he was determined to find Sunny and obviously we weren’t going home until he did.
Each night at dinner, Daddy prayed at the table for Sunny’s safe return. And precisely at ten o’clock before going to bed, I lit Sunny’s favorite white eucalyptus fragrance candle and set it in the window, asking God to guide my sister home. It was after ten o’clock and the first night I wasn’t able to leave a candle burning for Sunny.
Wringing my hands with the teardrops falling in my palms, I felt a burning sensation in my stomach. Trying not to think the worst, I recalled the stories Sunny told me about the celebrities she’d met and how they pampered her and gave her lots of money. Each time she sounded excited but her spirit was very sad. I sensed the haziness hovering over her heart. Her feelings spoke louder than her contrived laughter. That Valentino guy Sunny beamed about but had never met was the one I wanted her to marry.
My eyes were open but I couldn’t see anything in front of me. Daddy drove so slow I imagined his foot being propped inches above the pedal.
One cold night about two months or so ago, Sunny told me, “Sis, I closed on my first condo. It’s like a glorified apartment but I have lots of space. A huge living room with plush snow-white carpet. I just bought this crazy nice leather set. It’s your favorite color, lime. My bedroom is my favorite color, green.” She’d laughed but every time I asked she wouldn’t tell me where her place was.
Buying her first home was one time when Sunny truly seemed happy. Oh, how she boasted about me having my own bedroom and how our rooms were decorated the same. Our family photo hung in the living room above her electrical fireplace. She had ceiling track lights with dimmers.
She continued. “We both have giant tubs and there’s a new gas stove and a double-door refrigerator.”
Sunny was a better cook than me but she’d never admit it. I never understood why she wanted more for me than herself. When I wanted to run away and go live with my ex-first boyfriend, Anthony, Sunny convinced me not to. But I couldn’t do the same with her when she left home. “You gotta see it! I’ma pick you up in my new Benz. We gon’ let down the top and let our long blond hair blow in the…I take that back, we’ll just cruise with the top up, put on our sunglasses, and act like celebrities.”
I’m still waiting on that ride.
Sunny was more adventurous than me. She always wanted to travel the world. Embrace different cultures and learn foreign languages. International business was her desired field, while
After we graduated from high school, Sunny only went to Wal-Mart to appease me. She preferred to shop at Saks or Bloomingdales.
Honk! Honk!
Creeping in the slow lane, Daddy quietly sat behind the mahogany steering wheel peering through the windshield as he merged onto Interstate 15 heading north.
Unexpectedly moisture seeped between my thighs. As I clamped my buttocks, what felt like blood trickled into my panties and wouldn’t stop. This was not a good sign.
“Daddy, please go back. Let’s just go home,” I pleaded, thankful I’d worn black slacks.
Lord, what’s happening to my sister? I wondered.
I bit into a piece of sugarcoated ginger. “Ouch!” A sharp pain hit me. Staring at the dried fruit, I pinched my two front teeth to make sure they were there. Heavily my hand fell from my mouth to my lap like a piece of lead.
“Baby girl, with all your distractions you shoulda stayed home with your mama.”
Daddy was oblivious of my uncharacteristic behavior. Mama would’ve read Sunny’s signs through me and asked tons of questions by now. My daddy didn’t know where to go, but I could tell he was determined to find Sunny and obviously we weren’t going home until he did.
Each night at dinner, Daddy prayed at the table for Sunny’s safe return. And precisely at ten o’clock before going to bed, I lit Sunny’s favorite white eucalyptus fragrance candle and set it in the window, asking God to guide my sister home. It was after ten o’clock and the first night I wasn’t able to leave a candle burning for Sunny.
Wringing my hands with the teardrops falling in my palms, I felt a burning sensation in my stomach. Trying not to think the worst, I recalled the stories Sunny told me about the celebrities she’d met and how they pampered her and gave her lots of money. Each time she sounded excited but her spirit was very sad. I sensed the haziness hovering over her heart. Her feelings spoke louder than her contrived laughter. That Valentino guy Sunny beamed about but had never met was the one I wanted her to marry.
My eyes were open but I couldn’t see anything in front of me. Daddy drove so slow I imagined his foot being propped inches above the pedal.
One cold night about two months or so ago, Sunny told me, “Sis, I closed on my first condo. It’s like a glorified apartment but I have lots of space. A huge living room with plush snow-white carpet. I just bought this crazy nice leather set. It’s your favorite color, lime. My bedroom is my favorite color, green.” She’d laughed but every time I asked she wouldn’t tell me where her place was.
Buying her first home was one time when Sunny truly seemed happy. Oh, how she boasted about me having my own bedroom and how our rooms were decorated the same. Our family photo hung in the living room above her electrical fireplace. She had ceiling track lights with dimmers.
She continued. “We both have giant tubs and there’s a new gas stove and a double-door refrigerator.”
Sunny was a better cook than me but she’d never admit it. I never understood why she wanted more for me than herself. When I wanted to run away and go live with my ex-first boyfriend, Anthony, Sunny convinced me not to. But I couldn’t do the same with her when she left home. “You gotta see it! I’ma pick you up in my new Benz. We gon’ let down the top and let our long blond hair blow in the…I take that back, we’ll just cruise with the top up, put on our sunglasses, and act like celebrities.”
I’m still waiting on that ride.
Sunny was more adventurous than me. She always wanted to travel the world. Embrace different cultures and learn foreign languages. International business was her desired field, while
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