Read The Davis Years (Indigo) for Free Online Page A

brother. But I’ve been all alone and it’s hard.” Lynette’s tone changed. She was talking to Jemma for once and not talking at her or through her.
    “I know, Mom.”
    “No, you don’t, girl. These men out here ain’t after love. I figured that out too late. Things went real wrong for me real fast. And you know me and your grandmamma couldn’t get along. I didn’t know what else to do but get in more and more trouble, I guess. Never finished school. Never did anything. I don’t want that for y’all. Never did. And Jemma, you can be something more than what I was,” Lynette said. “What I am.”
    Jemma sat back on the couch, shocked at this rare glimpse of Lynette as a person. This person almost made her feel like she had a mother. She was caught off guard. If she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have been lulled into a false sense of security.
    “I’m not gonna do anything stupid. Wendell is just a friend. Really,” Jemma said, thinking her mom had no idea how true that was.
    “Wendell. Huh. What kind of name is that?” Her mom laughed. Jemma laughed, too, mainly because she was laughing. “Don’t you ever let that happen again,” her mom said, an edge coming back into her tone.
    “No, ma’am,” Jemma said.
    “I do try to do right by you girls.” Her mom sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “You and your sister. It’s different for girls, you know. Always will be.”
    “I just wish it didn’t have to be this hard. Sometimes—sometimes I feel like I have to be a mom to everyone here. Including you.” Jemma didn’t know what made her say that. Maybe she thought they were having a breakthrough moment. Like on the talk shows. She should have remembered that TV was a fantasy world.
    “What did you say?” Lynette stood.
    “I just meant—”
    “Don’t you ever sass me.” And quick, before Jemma ever saw the hand coming, she was slapped across the mouth. Jemma’s hands flew to her face. Tears filled her eyes. The fact that Lynette hit her hurt her much more than the stinging of the slap. She ran out of the room. Lynette followed, cussing her the whole way. Jemma tried to shut her bedroom door and Lynette shoved it open.
    “Mo—”
    “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. Disrespecting me. Lying all the time. Think you grown, huh? Who keeps this roof over your head?”
    Uncle Sam and myself , she thought. Aloud she screeched, “I’m sorry!”
    “You don’t know sorry yet.” Lynette threw things around the room as she spoke. “And clean this room up sometime.”
    Jemma’s hand strayed to the spot near her mouth where Lynette had hit her and she thought about something her aunt—with whom she’d lived in South Carolina—had once said during one of the few conversations she and Jemma had about Lynette.
    “Lynette? Well, I think the bitterness ate that woman right on up,” her aunt had said. Was that what had made Lynette so awful? Jemma didn’t want to end up like that. That was another reason why she had to be over it. She wouldn’t let the bitterness swallow her whole. No bitterness, no fear, none of it would be allowed to hold her back.
    Jemma thought back to the night when she told Davis about Lynette hitting her. How his hands had felt over hers. The comfort in his voice. Then, the way he’d shared his own secret with her—that sometimes his dad had knocked him around when he was drunk before Davis got old enough to hit back. And after that, his dad only messed with him occasionally and only then until he was reminded that Davis was stronger, faster, and his youth had grown from a disadvantage into a weapon.
    That night, she’d thought something would change between them. That there would be a bond between them that wouldn’t allow Davis to pull away from her anymore. But she’d been wrong. Davis had gone right back to ignoring her whenever it wasn’t just the two of them. And her heart had continued breaking for him. Best to let that memory and