Page 19 of Plus One

Travel had scrambled Monique’s internal clock, yet she managed to fall asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She’d slept hard and woke to the sun high and a phone full of missed calls and texts.

Was it unheard of for a person to sleep in on vacation?

It was almost three in the afternoon. Her family must have taken her silence as something dangerous. But they all told her to rest.

So, she rested. What else did they want from her?

She made her way downstairs and through the lobby, back to the banana palm-protected café that bustled with afternoon diners whose tables overflowed with aromatic dishes and vibrant fruits.

Monique glanced around for a familiar face but saw no one. The array of skin tones and accents surrounding her, though, felt like her West Garfield Park block, once upon a time: kinetic and welcoming.

A server darted past her and toward what she remembered to be the kitchen. Monique got their attention. “Excuse me. I’m here for a wedding luncheon.”

The server paused and then nodded before pointing toward the now disappeared wall of windows she’d sat beside several hours prior. She stepped in the direction the server pointed and spotted a secluded dining room through the newly revealed courtyard garden.

Monique smiled her thanks to the server and followed the ancient cobblestones through the miniature rainforest. Deep green and waxy leaves brushed her arms, and orchids curved down in welcome. Hibiscus perfumed the air.

She took her time meandering along the path that led to the small, secluded dining room, following the sounds of familiar laughter that competed with the gentle trickle of a fountain and the sweet call of birds that made this sanctuary their home.

Monique thought about going back for her camera. “Later,” she told herself as she paused and peered heavenward, trying to spot the camouflaged creatures that surrounded her. Letting her eyes fall closed, she sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the warm and sweet humid air.

She was stalling.

The path eventually led her to a private dining room, half hidden by leaves. She spotted them all there. Tommie holding court, Lanie patient and radiant beside him. Her aunts there focused on each other. There was an older couple that she didn’t know but could tell were Lanie’s parents just by looking at them. And then there washim.

Maurice sat there with everyone but not really. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the garden. He was Tommie’s boy. Close enough to be best man, so why did he look so cagey?

She stepped closer, continuing along the path.

Everyone else remained engrossed in conversation and the food that filled the table. Maurice’s attention remained fixed on the garden.

The leaves cleared. His posture straightened, and Monique was now certain he saw her.

Another bend in the path broke their connection and led her to a wrought iron gate at the back of the secluded dining room. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“Look who decided to join us!” Tommie called out, rising from his chair. Everyone’s attention whipped to her.

Maurice stood at her approach, as did Mr. Turner. The other two men remained seated, yet their eyes picked her apart.

Monique forced a smile, one she reserved for just such an occasion, and moved closer. “Hey, y’all.”

“Don’they, y’allme. Come and give your auntie a hug,” Aldonia Lane-Fairbanks said from the head of the table.

Tommie ruffled her hair as she passed. “This hair,” he said in a complimentary tone that always sounded hollow to her ears, “real dope.”

She pushed him off but smiled.Cancer curlsfolks called them. She wasn’t trying to be trendy. She was trying to survive.

“Monique Renee, don’t keep an old woman waiting.” Playfulness colored Aunt Don’s tone.

Monique nodded and played along, like Jasmine suggested. But the reunion scraped at old wounds that she thought were healed, reawakening the ache of love and longing that had dulled over time and distance. The cut was deep despite the promises she always found in her aunt’s embrace.

Aunt Don brushed her aged hands up and down Monique’s back. They swayed and nodded in a silent conversation that may have sounded like hummed hymns to the uninitiated.

She moved her small hands to Monique’s face, commanding her attention. “You’re gonna be okay, baby,” she declared, voice unwavering despite the unmistakable sheen of tears in her eyes.

It took every ounce of control for Monique not to burst into tears. The moment was too intimate to share in mixed company.

“Stop being greedy, Ma,” Tommie whined, now standing beside Monique. “Thank you for being here, cuz.” He pulled her into a crushing hug. “This wouldn’t be the same without you.”