On the Come Up (20 page)

He blew into his hands, shoved them back into his pockets.

He said, I got paid.

AnnMarie tsked. That all you got to say, you spit in my face, you beat me and that’s it—
I got paid
.

He shook his head like he embarrassed. Now that right there was stupid and I admit it. I know I did wrong and I’ma apologize to you.

Why you do it, Darius, why you think you can treat me like that. That girl coming around, saying you having a baby with her.

He reached out and played with Star, her fingers batting at his
hands, saying
da da da da da da
and when she kicked off the blanket, he rose, leaned over and tucked her back in.

I mean, what you gonna do?

I ain’t gonna do nothing.

AnnMarie tsked. You a fucking dog, you know that.

He was quiet for a long time. He so quiet AnnMarie wondered if they be able to fix it.

He blew into his hands, his thighs trembling from the cold.

She said, Well, what you gonna do. You gonna be with me or her.

He said, CeeCee gonna have her baby whether you like it or not.

He said, I know I act stupid. I’m a flawed individual, feel me. But we’s a family. You, me and Star. That ain’t never gonna change.

She studied him for a moment. Star got his mouth and chin. She could see it.

She reached up and adjusted her do-rag. She need to get her hair done soon. Festival roll up, she need to be ready.

Darius shoved his hands in his pockets, bracing himself against the wind. Then, he looked at her sideways. You wanna go to Three Kings, get something to eat?

She thought about it. Welfare could wait.

She finally told him. A few days before the flight, she said it flat out. I’m going to Utah, the movie’s playing in a festival there, ain’t it crazy? She didn’t tell him it was a big deal, how Dean was gonna try to sell the film, how there’d be people there wanting to talk to her. Darius glanced up from the TV screen. He said, Utah? Why the fuck you wanna go there. Don’t you know they got white muthafuckers shoot a black man on the street.

AnnMarie looked at him.

Ignoramus. Trying to mess with her head.

Blessed sucked her teeth.

AnnMarie glanced at her. She was staring hard at Darius who didn’t seem to notice but when he walked out a few minutes later, she shook her head.
Finally
, she said.

AnnMarie had to smile.

Taking her side for once. Thank you very much.

They worked it out that Niki would come over, run errands for her mother, bundle Star up in the stroller, take her out once in a while to get some air.

Day of the flight, Niki hugged her and she held on, listening to Niki’s raspy voice in her ear, saying: Don’t forget my snow.

First time she been on a plane. She thought she gonna be sick, that roller-coaster feeling tying her stomach in knots. She had to pull her eyes away from the window—the wing vibrating like it gonna break off as the plane tilted and made its turn, heading west over the city, the ground below patched and squared, homes and buildings and roadways like paper cutouts.

She reached over and clutched Melody’s hand. Melody laughed, saying, It’s okay, AnnMarie. We won’t fall. But all AnnMarie felt was the bumping, the high-pitched hum in the cabin—any second they going down. She could feel Melody leaning, looking past her out the little window so she cracked her eye and saw that they was cutting through a haze of white, the wing jutting out, flicking the mist in fine swirls, the whole world obscure. She shut her eyes again and kept them closed until the bumpiness went away and she got used to the hum. When she looked up, the plane hostess was moving down the aisle, her blond hair brushed back neat and tidy into a bun, a voice making a announcement that they serving refreshments.

AnnMarie glanced around the plane. Ain’t no black people go to Utah, Darius had said. Besides her and the assistant director, Maya, sitting two rows up with Dean, everyone else was white. No one looked mean or angry though, no one had tried to take her seat when they first got on the plane—she got a assigned seat. 17D, the ticket said, right next to her name. The plane hostess came by pushing a cart filled with juices and sodas and water. She said, What can I get you girls? AnnMarie looked at Melody. That cost money? she asked quietly.

Melody said, Do it cost something? No, sweetheart, the lady said. Not unless you want a mixed drink but you don’t look old enough for that. What can I get for you?

AnnMarie got a can of Coke and a bag of pretzels, the plane hostess passing her a little napkin. Melody showed her how to
unlatch the knob so a tray table fold down over her lap. AnnMarie looked out the window. She couldn’t see nothing now but blue all the way, all the way clear off forever. ’Cept there was one cloud over there off to the side—looked solid like a bed made of cotton. Like it could catch you if you fall. You could just lay down on it, AnnMarie thought, take a nap if you want to.

By the time they found their suitcases at baggage claim, rented a van from Enterprise and drove along the winding roads through the mountains, stars had appeared, stretching out across a vast velvet sky, stars twinkling like she’d never seen before.

The place they staying was called a condo, Dean said. Looked more like a house attached to a bunch of other houses, with angled roofs all covered in snow, icicles hanging from the eaves, mad tall trees spread out wide, so many trees, looked like they in the middle of a forest. They entered through a long hallway and she saw the ceiling way the fuck up there, a antler-type chandelier hanging down. Moose head sticking out the wall, its nostrils flaring. AnnMarie said, Dang. She’d never been in a house this big. It was five bedrooms and three bathrooms, a full kitchen with a stove and fridge and counter looking right onto the living room with a fireplace and a ledge to sit on and real logs in a pile. Melody leaned over the railing on the second floor and looked down to where AnnMarie stood. She said, What bedroom do you want? I don’t care, AnnMarie said, smiling. I do not care.

She asked to borrow Dean’s phone and called home, excitement pouring outta her mouth. She said, What up y’all. We made it. How everybody doing? What’s going on? How you feel?

She talked to Blessed for a while, telling her about the house and the moose head and the queen-size beds and the quilted blankets and goose-down pillows—how they all staying in one place
together like a family. Blessed said, That’s nice, AnnMarie. That sound nice. Then she put Niki on the phone. Niki said, You ain’t gonna believe this, AnnMarie.

What happened.

You not gonna believe this …

What happened, Niki, tell me.

We was playing, me and Star, and you know how she been pushing herself up and wobbling, well I kinda had one hand reaching out, you know, helping her and guess what she did—she took a step, swear to god AnnMarie, let go my hand and took a little step.

And AnnMarie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She said, Oh, my god. How she do that, she only eight month old—put that girl on the phone. Let me talk to her.

AnnMarie said, Hi Star it’s your mommy and I miss you and I’m proud a you and are you walking, you gonna walk for me when I get home?

But Star started to wail and AnnMarie heard the phone drop, commotion on the other end. She sat down on the bed, felt her shoulders slump and a tiredness creep in, she felt tired all of a sudden and a little pang of loneliness, listening to Star screaming on the other end of the line. She pictured the apartment, Blessed standing in the middle of the room, leaning on her cane, Star’s face wailing, and when Niki got back on the line, she said, Word. I guess she missing you. Blessed got her though … she be fine.

When AnnMarie got off the phone, the house was quiet. She wandered through the condo, looking in the bedrooms, smelled the little soaps in the bathroom, went downstairs. She felt a cool draft where the sliding door was cracked open, heard voices on the deck.

She stood at the glass watching Maya in a one-piece bathing suit join the others, lifting her bare foot off the snow as she
climbed into the hot tub. Steam rising off the surface, jets burbling the water, they breaths coming in little puffs. They was talking softly, Dean’s arm slung over the side. He look different, AnnMarie thought, his chest bare, glasses fogged over. Melody climbed out and sat on the ledge, steam swirling off her skin. Sonia wasn’t there. Last minute, she had to stay and do pickup scenes for the other movie she making. But everyone else was in the hot tub—Dean, Maya, the cameraman Bobby, Albert the sound man. She heard Melody say, Come on, AnnMarie, get in. AnnMarie glanced up.

Y’all crazy, she said. It’s freezing outside.

But they all turned, calling her name, saying Come on, AnnMarie. It feels good.

Later that night, when she crawled into bed, she couldn’t sleep. She lay there for a long while thinking. She’d gone ahead and stripped down to her tee and undies, stepped across the deck, the snow burning her feet, and climbed into that tub. They’d been right, her body slowly adjusted to the piping hot water, her toes lifting, bumping into Melody’s under the water. It had felt good. Underneath the covers, she pulled her knees up to her chest. She pictured Star taking her first step, how it’d been Niki’s eyes and not hers to witness and a sudden longing for home swept through her. To be home and not here, in the big bed with soft sheets and a extra goose-down pillow under her head. She stared into the darkness, wondering if other actors and actresses felt this way too.

The day of the screening, they drove together in the crew van to the little town called Park City where the movie festival at. Out the window, AnnMarie saw mountains and snow everywhere and a ski lift cutting two black lines across a hill.

Look, Melody said.

People way up there, zigzagging through the powder, little tufts of white springing up behind they skis. It was mad beautiful.

Dean was driving, tires crunching, a fresh snow falling, wipers blowing flakes from the windshield and when he rounded the corner, she could see the little town up there, like a fake village from a fairy-tale story.

This is Main Street, Dean said.

Banners hanging, flags flapping from poles, all different kinds of people walking along the sidewalk. Look like a black dude over there, standing by the curb. Sure was—one, two, three, four more stepping from a restaurant, looking mad stylish in big puffy coats with fur on they collar and mirrored sunglasses.

Who those people, Dean, AnnMarie asked.

Dean followed her gaze out the side window and said, I bet they’re with the movie
Love & Basketball
. Looks like Omar Epps over there.

AnnMarie turned full around in her seat as they drove past, trying to catch a glimpse of that movie star. Her eyes scanning the group until she saw him, plain as day. Even from a distance,
he was mad fine, standing with the others, talking on his phone. She’d seen all his movies—
Higher Learning. Scream 2. The Wood
. Dang, she didn’t know he gonna be here. He was too fine. Wonder if he coming to see her movie.

Dean pulled up to the curb and AnnMarie heard someone slide the van door open. Everyone started to pile out but she didn’t. She couldn’t move, her heart pounding, it was like she stuck to the seat. The front of the theater was crowded with people, a line forming, bunching up the block, all the way to the corner. Her eyes fixed on the movie posters, a whole bunch of them spread across the wall—her face blown up big in between Sonia and Melody. Little twinkle in her eye, dang—she’d never seen herself macro-size like that …

Dean leaned in. You okay, AnnMarie? You coming?

Yeah, I’m coming. She took a breath and slid out the van, keeping her head down as she moved through the crowd on the sidewalk. She was mad nervous, crunching through the snow in her boots, feeling hot all over. Aware suddenly of her stonewash jeans up in her crack, and her hair—wondering whether she should take off the North Face earmuffs she got on. Which way more stylish. On or off. She bumped into Melody who had turned and was reaching for her hand as they entered the theater. More people inside, so many people, their voices swelled around her. A section of seats in the middle had been roped off with ribbon. Reserved. Reserved. Reserved.

Sit here, Dean told them. I’m going to check on the projection system.

AnnMarie took her coat off and tried to get comfortable—people filing in, finding seats, getting settled, cell phones pressed to their ears. She spotted Dean in the aisle, shaking hands with somebody, a small crowd forming around him. Who was all these people? Couple rows down, two white dudes sat, both a them with long sideburns and hair on their chin like goatees. Was these yuppies?
AnnMarie didn’t know but they looked like college type—black-rimmed glasses, turtlenecks, wool scarves around they necks. She turned and looked over her shoulder, had the
Love & Basketball
people come in?

White sideburn dude had put his boot up on the seat back in front of him, his arm slung over his knee, looking around. Blessed never let him get away with that, AnnMarie thought as she stared at that fella. He was kinda cute, his hair spiked up in front, his jeans cuffed just above his Tims. AnnMarie’s eyes drifted back to his face and saw that he was looking at her, smiling. She ducked her head, embarrassed and Melody nudged her, saying, Take off your earmuffs. So she pulled them off and tried to fix her hair, brush it back behind her ears.