Yesterday was my birthday. lol Officially 23. :) And happy birthday to anyone else celebrating in March. Reviews would be an awesome birthday present. Thank you for reading. More to come. :) Little warning: mention of murder.
When Abbie walked into the abandoned school room, she wasn't expecting sniffles and wet eyes and slumped shoulders.
"What's wrong?" Abbie said, dropping her bag by the door.
One of the women, Tammy, got out of her rickety desk. As she spoke, Abbie barely heard her. Stella….visiting family in Georgia….white cop….beat…..protecting little brother.
She was reminded of her dad, of his fight, of his blood on the window. Then she saw Stella in defense, striking back. Her body slammed on concrete. The officer raising his baton. Bashing and denting her until she stilled. Abbie excused herself.
In the bathroom, she gagged and cried, gagged and cried. She knew Stella for three years. Of all the ladies she coached, Stella was the youngest. Eighteen when they met. Twenty-one and in a grave now. She sent a prayer for her family: her aunt and uncle up here and her parents and other relatives down south. Their lost was felt.
After Abbie wiped her face and gathered her breath, she returned to the other women. They lined up in their spots. Abbie was about to stay something when she paused to stare at Stella's mark at the beginning of the line. She was the first one here and the last one to leave. Stella flickered in front of her. Abbie saw her petite frame with her fists up, her weight on her front leg, her hair tied in a blue ribbon, her pursed lips, a little storm in her eyes, defiance.
She cleared her throat. "Class is cancelled."
"No," Tammy held her head and raised her shoulders.
Abbie glanced at the other girls. They stood firm, too. She admired their strength, their boldness to keep on. "For Stella," their stances told her. For all the black women who didn't know how to defend themselves and for the black women who died because they did. So Abbie taught, and they learned.
After class, Abbie went home to shower. Though heavy with grief, she found it in herself to meet Jenny at the bakery.
"Hey, kid," Corbin said at the register.
Abbie gave him a small smile, but she didn't speak to him. It's not that she didn't like Corbin. He was great to her and Jenny. His son, Joe, was kind, too. They were the only white people her and Jenny "trusted" really. He was a friend of their parents, not like those other shitty cats as Corbin described himself. They were comfortable with him. He never minded any of Jenny's antics either. He's even helped her.
"One of those days, huh?"
She nodded.
It's like his beard frowned with the rest of his face. "I wish the world was better." He patted her shoulder. "You sister's in the back."
She nodded again before leaving him.
"How was class?" Jenny said.
She sighed, pulled her hair back, slung on her apron, washed and dried her hands.
"What happened?"
Abbie grabbed the mixing bowl Jenny had.
"Did someone—?"
"No."
"Then what—"
"Fuck off, Jenny."
Her sister narrowed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. She bumped Abbie's shoulder as she passed her to get the cupcakes out of the oven. Sometimes Jenny didn't know when to quit. Her pushiness irked her. She got that from Mama.
They worked in silence, in a routine. Mixing, pouring, baking, cooling, icing, boxing. Abbie tried not to think about Stella, but she had no choice when Jenny told her to ice the rest of the cupcakes blue. Her breathe quickened again as she pictured Stella's blue hair ribbon. Some of the girls teased her about it, even though Stella claimed it made her less clumsy; it was lucky. Abbie smiled and cried.
Jenny put her hand on Abbie's back without a word.
She explained the news to her sister.
Jenny hugged her. "I know what she meant to you."
"They all mean alot."
The sugar and vanilla scent from her sister's hair comforted her just a little. The sadness was bearable. The anger wasn't.
"I fucking hate white people, except Corbin and Joe," Abbie said.
She iced the rest of the cupcakes while she thought about how impossible it was to live in this world. At church, pastors and deacons and first ladies preached for the congregation to forgive. Abbie wasn't a big Christian. She believed, but her faith has been a sore spot since her parents and what happened with Jenny. After that, it kept piling.
"Love unconditionally," the church said, "even the white people." It was a load of shit. Even Jesus couldn't save them, couldn't save her. She felt herself being tugged further and further by the fury abiding in her breast bone. But she couldn't give in to it. She thought of Mama and how all that anger and sadness enriched her. She knew she had to try to focus on the positive. Her and Jenny both had jobs to support themselves. They had their side jobs that fulfilled them. Most importantly, they had each other. And that was always enough for Abbie to keep her from dwindling down the ledge.
As Abbie and Jenny finished the last of the cupcakes, Corbin and Joe walked into the kitchen.
"I'm about to deliver these," Corbin said. "Joe, would you mind starting on those snicker doodles for tomorrow? Abbie, Jen, would you two mind taking care of things upfront?"
They took off their aprons while Joe put on his. He held the door for them, smiled at Abbie, and blushed at Jenny, who pretended not to notice.
"Thanks for coming in, Mills," Joe said, more so to her sister.
Jenny nodded as they walked by him.
No one came in for a good twenty minutes, so Abbie helped her sister balance the register. She didn't know how to broach the subject with Joe because she knew Jenny would shut down. Abbie couldn't just outright say, "Joe likes you. Are you okay?" She had to take another approach.
"Do you want to talk about 'the thing'?" she said.
"There's no 'thing,' Abbie. There won't be a 'thing,' considering my…..previous encounter. Oh, and let's not forget nearly all of fucking racist America. There's no 'thing.'"
"I'm worried about you." She took her hand.
Joe would never make a move on Jenny, especially after she put him on his ass once. He made the mistake of pointing at something that was in her hair. Jenny thought he tried to touch her. Joe kept his distance after that, so he wouldn't frighten her. But he made it a point to show both sisters he didn't mean them any harm.
When Jenny decided she wanted to work here, Abbie was shocked. They knew the old man since they were teens. Their parents used to buy cakes and other pastries from him all the time. They eventually became close, and their parents invited him over for family dinner some days. Corbin even offered her and Jenny plenty of chances to work in his bakery during summer breaks. With all Jenny endured after their parents passed, Abbie could hardly believe it. Jenny said she wanted to feel close to Mama and dad, so Abbie didn't ask anymore. Eventually, she had to stop worrying so much. Jenny usually came home happy, except when there were shitty customers.
Before she started working there, Jenny made it very clear to Corbin that she wanted to work alone or with Abbie. She didn't give him all the details, but Corbin read between the lines, didn't pry. He made sure to separate Jenny and Joe, to make sure she was content and at ease.
"Don't. There's no 'thing.'"
Abbie hugged her sister. "If it gets too much being here—"
"Leave. I know."
She kissed Jenny's forehead. "Take care of you. Promise?"
Jenny nodded.
Abbie didn't want her sister to get triggered while working here. All she could do was trust she would be alright, wouldn't submit herself to an environment that could traumatize her.
The bell dinged on the door as they finished counting the change and bills.
"Hello. How can we help—?" Abbie paused. She nearly dropped the coins.
"Oh, what a pleasant surprise. How lovely to see you again, ma'am. Your name is Abbie. Is that correct?" he said.
Abbie nodded. "Library guy, right? Crane?"
"It is. I hope you are faring well today, Miss Abbie despite the weather." He glanced at Jenny. "It's nice to see you today, Miss Jenny. I hope your day is also going well."
"You two know each other?" Abbie said.
Jenny nodded. "Small goddamned world, huh?"
"Indeed," Crane said. "How did you two become acquainted if I may inquire?"
"She's my sister," Jenny said.
"Ah. I can see the resemblance now." His eyes lingered on Abbie. "If I may say, you are very beautiful, ma'am."
She didn't know what the hell was going on. Could he just get what he wanted and leave?
She cleared her throat. "Right. So, what can we get for you?"
"I will take four sugar cookies. I think I'll keep my distance from the snicker doodles. Those were quite spicy."
Abbie smirked at Jenny, who bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
"I'll wrap those up for you. It'll be one dollar." Jenny went to get his cookies while he pulled out a bill.
He handed Abbie a five. She handed him back his change, but he put the rest in the tip jar.
Both of them stood there. Awkwardly. She wasn't about to bring up the incident. His fingers wiggled.
"I—"
"Your cookies," Jenny said.
"Thank you for your service. Have a pleasant afternoon, ladies." He bowed for them. Then he left.
Abbie let out a breath.
"Holy shit. He comes in here all the time, gives awesome tips, too. I can't believe that's him."
"Funny how that works."
"Do you want to talk about 'the thing,' Abbie?" Jenny laughed, referring to his compliment about her beauty.
Abbie couldn't help but laugh either. "Shut the fuck up, Jenny."
"And his snicker doodles comment?" She giggled harder.
"Poor man."
They giggled until their cheeks hurt.
"In all seriousness, you be careful, too. He's very charming, but it's all an act. I'm sure he's the worst of them all."
Abbie nodded. "I know."
Jenny patted her hand.
Nearly ninety-nine percent of Abbie knew she couldn't trust him. But the way he spoke to her and her sister, his kindness, his sincerity. That one percent of her wanted to say she could, that he was who he appeared to be.