Reel (Hollywood Renaissance 1)

“You could have told me you liked him, T. I wouldn’t have given him the time of day if I’d known.”

“I was too proud to admit the boy I wanted didn’t want me back. When you told me that he wanted to have sex and that you weren’t ready . . . well, I know how boys are, and I saw my chance.”

After all these years, after all we’ve been through and who we’ve become, knowing now what real love is, I can’t even muster anger anymore for what Terry and Brandon destroyed. What I had with him was love in effigy, a crude imitation worthy of only being burned. If Brandon had betrayed me with anyone other than the person I held dearest, I would have moved on, never looking back. But it had been with Terry. And there was a child, the beautiful, breathing evidence of not how much his betrayal hurt, but of hers.

“Can you forgive me?” Terry asks, her voice breaking over the plea, her eyes overflowing. “I know what I did—”

“Yes.” I lean forward and wrap my arms around her. It is our first hug in almost thirteen years, and she feels the same. Not the dimensions of her body, but the comfort of her; the tight squeeze of her arms. “I forgive you, T. And I’m sorry it took so long. I wish . . .”

I don’t have words for all the wishes, only tears, and they pour out of me. Tears for every missed birthday and Christmas. For all the times I had something to celebrate and wished I could share it with her, but was unable to forget or forgive. For every gut-busting laugh we haven’t had, and for all the hard times we haven’t walked through together.

For my niece. Not knowing her because of our pride and our foolishness.

All the stone encasing my heart against Terry shatters, and I don’t feel the hate or anger or bitterness. I feel her, and I am overwhelmed by the rightness of my sister in my arms again. We are both prodigals, wandered far from one another, now home again. Every test the doctors ran proved that we were matched by God. Bone, tissue, flesh, blood. We were made for today—for a moment when my sister would save me. We weep together, a release long coming. A flood of broken cries and half-words and gasps of relief.

“Oh!”

The sound from the door has Terry and me turning our heads. Mama stands there, hand to her mouth, tears streaking her face, too.

“It’s about time,” she says with a shaky, tearful laugh.

Crossing the room, she adds her arms to ours, her happy laughter joining ours to fill the sterile hospital room.

“I love you, Neev,” Terry whispers, kissing my temple. “I’m so sorry and I’m so glad I can do this for you.”

I’m too moved to speak and just nod, tightening my arms around them, my family.

“And I love both my girls.” Mama splits a smile between us. “I thought today I would just be scared, but this right here feels as important as the surgery itself.”

A movement at the door catches our attention. Quianna stands there, wide eyes flitting from her mother to me. With no hesitation, I extend one arm, breaking the circle of our hug long enough to invite her in. She rushes over, a bright smile on her face. She buries her head in my neck and closes the circle again. We stay like that for long moments until the nurse comes in.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse says. “But we need to start preparations for surgery. And Ms. Mathis, you need to go back to your room so they can prepare you, too.”

I stand, ready to follow orders, but Mama sets a staying hand on my arm.

“Can you give us just a minute to pray?” she asks the nurse, who after a quick hesitation, nods and steps back to the wall, giving us some space, but not leaving the room. The four of us hold hands and bow our heads, but before Mama begins, I glance up and see Brandon hovering in the hall, his worried eyes on my sister.

He does love her.

And she loves him.

Maybe it wasn’t the best start, and I know they’re still working some things out, but they have love and they have Quianna.

And after all these years and all this pain, they have my blessing.

“You should come pray with us,” I say to him, tilting my head toward our circle.

Terry’s hand tightens around mine and she smiles tentatively. “Come on in, Brand.”

I once thought he was the finest man I’d ever seen. Now, whatever once drew me to him, I can’t detect any sign of, which is as it should be. He’s my sister’s husband and I feel nothing but hope that he is good to her. I sincerely hope they are more faithful to one another than they were to me. Forgiveness has cleared the way in my heart to truly wish them only the best. Brandon walks over to stand between his daughter and his wife, and bows his head.