Welcome to Hell: Rediscovering First Love

Yancy took the hint good naturedly. “How’s Troy?” She asked Gem next.

“He’s fine too.” Gemma didn’t want the attention any more than Adin. My youngest sister was becoming wiser. Her fights with Troy were not coming home to momma any more. Gemma usually called me or one of my sisters when she needed advice or to vent. If it was one of my sisters I usually heard about the argument through the sister grapevine.

“Girls, when you ask your man what he likes about you what does he say?” My mother asked curiously.

We looked at each other certain she was setting a trap for us to fall into. We knew Yancy.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you why in a moment. Just answer the question.”

“Well we all know that there isn’t much my husband likes about me,” Michaela replied sadly.

All eyes turned to my sister.

“I like your cooking,” Adin said drawing the attention away from Michaela’s obvious sadness at her marriage breaking down. “Not even Yancy can cook a pot roast as succulent as yours. You have talent my dear sister. You should have been a chef.”

Michaela smiled. “Thanks Adin.”

“I like your smile,” Gem said. “I remember watching you cheer in high school and wishing that I had your smile because your smile was infectious. You always seemed happy then. God you were gorgeous”

Tears filled Michaela’s eyes but she didn’t cry.

“I like your emotionality. Is that a word?” I asked my sisters. They laughed at me. “You cry at sad movies. You love babies, puppies and kittens. You cry to show you are happy. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“Michaela even if Wynne had not confirmed what we all suspected we know that Bryon gave you the black eye,” my mother said with sadness in her tone of voice. “You deserve better my dear. Bryon needs his ass kicked. If you don’t do something about him then your father is going to I’m afraid. Because of me and my illness he stayed here tonight. Otherwise, he would have paid Byron a visit with his shotgun to put the fear of God into him. ”

We burst out laughing even though it wasn’t funny at all.

Michaela shook her head no but couldn’t say anything. I thought Yancy was probably serious. Pop had told us so at the hospital.

“Troy likes my perkiness,” Gemma piped in to the conversation deflecting the attention away from my older sister who was uncomfortable with acknowledging that her husband had punched her in the eye. “He calls me cute.”

“Who doesn’t?” Adin asked incredulously.

“It’s different coming from him,” Gemma told her reproachfully.

“What does Brad like about you?” I asked Adin.

“My creativity. He sees things in my paintings that reveal parts of me that most people don’t see.”

I’ve seen it Adin. The sadness in your heart. I see it in your paintings although I’m not sure what is causing it. I wish you would tell me.

“He’s a good choice then,” Yancy said surprising us all. She actually approved of Brad? “Gabrielle what has James told you he likes most about you.”

I thought for a moment. I could think of nothing that he had ever said about me that was not a criticism. “I don’t know.”

My mother glanced at the fire. “You know girls if you ask a man what he likes about you he will usually name the physical attributes that he likes. Gabrielle, you have the most beautiful eyes that I’ve ever seen. Michaela, it is your smile that sets you apart from all the others. Gemma, your overall cuteness usually attracts men. Adin your graceful beauty belies your artist’s soul, which surprises most men. Each of my girls holds a special place in my heart.”

Where was this conversation going? I wondered.

“I asked Jack once what attracted him to me and he told me it was my fire, my zest for life. I knew that he was a keeper. Ask the man that you love what he is attracted by and if he says something other than beauty you are guaranteed a lifetime of happiness because when the beauty fades he will still love you. When I lose my hair in a few weeks. When I feel like I’m on death’s door Jack will still be there for me. Some men run away because they aren’t truly in love with the woman. They love the shell. Girls, I’m so tired. I have to go to bed. Goodnight.”

She rose from her chair and kissed each of us on the cheek. Then we watched her climb the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor. No one moved to help her. Yancy Dawson didn’t need help right now. She was a strong woman. The day might come when strong or not we would have to help her but we knew to stay where we were for the moment.

My sisters and I stayed up until two a.m. laughing and talking as if the years had not passed by as quickly as they had. We were like teenagers again. The feelings were good ones that filled me as we told each other things and shared memories that hadn’t been remembered in a very long time.

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