Resplendent
RESPLENDENT by MJ Abraham
Copyright © 2013 by MJ Abraham
Cover Design by B Design of
http://bdesignpublishingservices.wordpress.com/
Photographer: Alexey Ivanov
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is dedicated to my husband. Thank you for the ten years of friendship, and for not wasting a minute.
My eyes remained closed as I tried to focus on the humming of the bathroom vent. I didn’t want to care about what was going on; it was just hair after all. There were more pressing matters to worry about. I had cried enough during and after the funeral in front of my
madrina
and her family. If my godmother, Lola, saw me shed any more tears, she’d probably get angrier with Carmin for being so careless. There was no need for more fighting—we were all under stress and learning to adapt. Everyone kept tiptoeing around me like I might break. I wasn’t a charity case!
I didn’t want these tears that threatened to spill over my cheeks. Right now, all I wanted to focus on was the vent. But those hair clippers kept breaking into my thoughts.
Clip, clip, clip.
I squeezed my eyes to hold in the impending waterfall and said a small prayer for strength. In just a few short hours, everyone would be asleep and I’d be alone to break down.
This is silly. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back
. But my hair had been beautiful, almost to my waist and a dark chocolate color that could be confused with black if it wasn’t under sunlight.
All I ever heard were compliments on the thickness and slight curl at the tips. It was exactly like my mom’s hair; and that’s what hurt me the most. I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves.
“I’m sorry about this,
Nena
,” Lola said. “You’ve always had such great hair … like your mami. I used to tease her that I was going to chop off her hair so they could make a wig out of it for me.”
I wanted to reply, but couldn’t find the words. Lola continued, “The good thing is your hair grows quickly. I promise I’ll be sure that Carmin doesn’t let this happen again.”
No! Carmin is already in trouble. What more could she get punished for?
My lips parted for me to speak and I felt my lip crack. It was as if all the water in my body was being held behind my eyes, leaving my mouth as dry as the Sahara. I swallowed the lump that was lodged in my throat before speaking.
“No, Madrina. It was an accident. Carmin apologized. And it was too long and difficult to style anyway. I wanted a cut for my new school.” My voice was hoarse.
It was a half-lie. Sure, it took a lot of work to get it styled slick straight and I really
did
want a new haircut—but just the tips, not eleven inches. I didn’t say any of that, though. Being new to their home, the last thing I wanted was to be a bother.
My godmother stayed quiet, but I could see through the corner of my eye how tense she was with her pinched lips and careful movements. Taking one final snip, I dared to lower my eyes to the floor where the long, dark strands had fallen. Strands that were clumped up and held together by dry, nasty, Dubble Bubble gum, ready to be swept away and discarded. Just like my parents had been swept away from my life. My chin started to tremble and I bit down on my tongue in an effort to calm down.
“There,” Lola said and put down the hairbrush. We both looked up into the bathroom mirror at my reflection. I tried to imagine myself without the red eyes and slumped posture, but I still hated the cut. Was it bad? Did it look hideous? No, I just hated the change. I clenched my hands to keep my fingers from touching it. Another unwanted transition.
“I have something for you. Something I found in my box of old albums,” Lola said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the master bedroom.
While Lola went inside the walk-in closet, I stopped at the door to look at the small pencil markings that showed how tall Carmin was growing. Here was something that made me smile. I ran my finger up the wall and noticed my own name had been added. I remembered Lola insisting I be measured as well, so she would always be able to see how much
both
of us girls had grown.
I used to wish for Carmin’s average height, seeing as how I was taller than most of the guys in my class. Carmin, on the other hand, envied my long legs. At the age of thirteen, neither one of us was satisfied with how we looked.
“Your mother made this for me a few years ago, and I thought it would be best if you kept it.”
I turned to face her, and tried to keep my composure when I saw Lola with watery eyes and her arms outstretched holding what looked like a photo album.
It was soft brown leather with a hint of closet smell. It’s what I considered the smell of storage and old memories. I opened it to reveal a scrapbook of pictures. With the turn of each delicate page, I began to feel lightheaded, remembering how detailed my mother had been. What started out with just pictures of my mother and Lola, became more of a family album. There was writing, important dates, and snippets of information on each page. I stopped to pull out a picture of me with my parents in front of a log cabin in Colorado. An oversized wreath hung behind us.
“Navidad 1996: First time seeing snow. We spent the day making snowmen and then went out for hot chocolate.”
The picture took me back to a wonderful time, when I didn’t have a care in the world. I looked up at my godmother and smiled the first genuine smile since I’d moved in. I couldn’t help walking to her for a hug. Lola gently rubbed my back as I softly cried on her shoulder. There were only so many tears that could be held back before a person exploded.
“I thank your mother for taking those pictures of all of us, and of me and my family. She always had a camera in her hands and was so good at it,” Lola murmured.
I sniffed and pulled back to wipe my eyes. “She gave me my first real camera just a few years ago. I had just begun to learn some tricks she picked up in her classes.”
Lola nodded and twirled a finger around my hair. “Yes, you both have that creative gene. Pictures are so important, especially at times like these. A little treasure you can always go back to.”
I agreed and went back to my bedroom—the one I shared with Carmin, who was still lying down on her bed and sniffling. I knew Carmin was ticked off about having her TV privileges taken away. I took in a deep, shaky breath, and put the album down on the dresser. Walking the few steps to Carmin’s full-size bed, I lay beside her. Facing her back, I wrapped my arm around her waist. Carmin had dark hair just like me, only curlier and thicker—but just as gorgeous. Carmin hated it.
“I’m sorry about your hair…” Carmin sniffed.
I hugged her tighter. “I know you are.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep with gum in my mouth.”
“It’s okay, Carmin. I should’ve been in my own bed anyway.”
Carmin turned around then and looked at me, eyes pink from crying.
“But I like it when you lay with me; it’s like I have a sister,” Carmin said as she brought up her hand to tuck my now short strands behind my ear. “Do you like your new hair style?”
I didn’t want to tell the truth and make her feel worse so I just nodded.
