Page 4 of Grown

Chapter 3

Caged Birds Must Sing

Mom is predictably twenty minutes late for pickup. Daddy says LaToya Jones will be late to her own funeral. It’s why he refused to have a traditional wedding and went straight to the courthouse a few months before I came into this world.

So I’m used to working in my songbook on the outside steps of school, waiting for her arrival...

In your heart, it’s a start.

And we can’t grow when we’re this far apart.

Let’s take it to another level

I’ll be a sunrise in your meadow...

Two honks snap me out of a groove.Beep! Beep!

“Heyyyy, Chanty!” Mom says, still in her hospital scrubs, her brown locs tied up into a neat bun. “Sorry I’m late. Where’s your sister?”

“Here I am,” Shea says, skipping behind me as we climb into the truck. “Bye, Becky. Bye, Anna. Bye, Lindsey!”

“Bye, Shea Shea,” a group of her fellow freshmen sing with a wave.

Shea bounces into the middle of the back seat, her little chocolate face nudging Mom’s forearm. “Mom, can I go over Lindsey Gray’s house this weekend?”

“Chores first, white girls second. Buckle up!”

“Mom,” she groans. “The window is open. People can hear you.”

Mom rolls up the window as we drive off, Shea babbling about her day. She’s adjusted well to high school, easier to do with an established group of friends from middle school rather than as a transfer student like me, fitting in like a little brown chameleon in every circle. I’m the blowfish out of water next to my little sister.

“Don’t forget to fold the laundry. And take the salmon out the freezer,” Mom says as we drop Shea off at home.

“I won’t! Geez!”

“Don’t let the twins pick all the veggies off their slices,” I remind her. “And Destiny likes her pizza cut into squares or she won’t eat it. Also newLove and Hip Hoptonight!”

“I know, Chanty, I know,” she laughs. “Becky and I are gonna watch it together on FaceTime.”

Mom backs out the driveway. “OK, you got the address to this swim meet?”

“Yup,” I say, nervously typing it into the GPS.

Mom frowns. “Oh. It’s in Manhattan?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Dang. Didn’t think it was going to be all the way in the city. And so late on a school night!”

“Bigger pool, I guess.” I try to make my lies sound believable, smooth as untouched water.

“OK. But text Daddy and tell him we’ll be home late.”

On the way, Mom conducts the home orchestra from her speakerphone.

“Shea, what temp is that oven on? You put it up too high and the pizza’s gonna burn. And did you take out fish like I told you?”

“Yes, Mom!” Shea sighs. “Geez!”