Free When Everything's Said & Done by Eboni Snoe

you happy? To turn this house into a home?” Her words hung in the air.
    “Brenda.” Her name broke the silence. “You’re an attractive woman, and one day the right man will come along.” Michael had to look away before he continued. “But that man is not me. It’s not me, Brenda.”
    “You could learn to love me,” she softly insisted.
    “For a man like me, that would leave the door wide open for trouble. And that wouldn’t be fair to you or me,” Michael replied.
    “I see.”
    There was an awkward silence.
    “I see.” At first Brenda covered her mouth with a shaky hand. Then she tried to smile and cover the hurt. Finally, Brenda looked at the stove. “I think the sauce is ready. You better pour it over the spaghetti before it starts to stick. I’ll set the table.”
    Hesitantly, Michael turned back to the stove as Brenda removed two plates from a cardboard box. She walked to the dining room and put the plates on the table. The sound the ceramic dishes made when they met the wood table seemed inordinately loud. But the sound of Brenda closing the front door behind her without saying goodbye was even louder.
    Michael turned and stared in the direction of the liv ing room. Afterward, he held on to the rim of the kitchen sink and hung his head.
    Nebia’s Story...
    “Oh, my God.” Sheila held her fingers to her mouth. “I couldn’t have stayed after that, either. Talk about rejection.”
    “I couldn’t have said that stuff in the first place,” Erica remarked. “I mean, really. Annette had been in love with him. I think Michael nipping it in the bud served Brenda right.”
    “All I’ve got to say is, right or wrong,” Nebia said, “Michael did turn her down. Of course he was only trying to be true to his own feelings. And you have to realize they were all feeling Annette’s death mighty heavily.” Nebia looked into all three of their faces. “People make all kinds of strange choices when loved ones die, almost as if reality is so shaky they lose their own true selves...or else they find them.” Nebia released her next words with a heavy breath. “I don’t know which one it was in Cora’s case.”
    “Cora came back?” Cynthia asked.
    “Ye-es. Cora came back just like a hurricane. You knew that she had arrived, but you didn’t know what the consequences were gonna be.”
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 9
     
    “How you doin’, Miss Laura? Miss Nebia?” Michael asked as he stood on the stairs of the Robinsons’ apartment building. “I was driving by and I saw you sitting out here. I thought I’d come up and say hello.”
    “You bet’ not see us out here and pass by without stopping,” Laura replied. But Nebia got up and went to the furthest corner of the front porch. Laura fol lowed her movements with a frustrated glare. “Don’t you know how to speak, woman?”
    Nebia put up her hand to shush her.
    Laura gave her a chastised look. “Next time, Michael, you know not to ask after her.”
    “It doesn’t matter.” Michael glanced at Nebia. “I know Miss Nebia doesn’t mean any harm.”
    “Well.” Laura nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way.” She smiled as a distant thumping began. “But I tell you. I’ve been doing pretty good, myself.” Laura leaned forward in her chair as a couple of children on bicycles stopped riding to look back. “What is that noise?”
    “I don’t know.” Michael took his foot off the stairs and started back up the walkway. “There’s a crowd of people coming down the street.” He shielded his eyes from the sun. “It sounds like a drum to me.”
    “It’s Cora.” Nebia said in a powerful whisper.
    The metal hinges of the screened door creaked as Brenda came out onto the porch. She stood by her mother’s chair as the drumming strengthened along with a faint voice that wove in and out of the beats.
    “Cora?” Laura said her daughter’s name as she heaved her body out of the chair. “That’s Cora’s voice.” She wrapped her arm around one