Free In My Sister's House by Donald Welch Page A

was a quiet moment between the two of them as Storm glanced around the place.
    “Well, it sure is good having you back. Did you get all my cards and letters I sent? ’Cause if I remember correctly, I think I maybe got like, what, two or three from you the whole time you was down,” Nettie said as she stepped back with both hands on her hips, waiting for an answer or an excuse.
    “I’m sorry, Nettie. You know I was never much of a writer. But I did send you a card for your fiftieth birthday. Did you receive it?”
    “Bitch
, I know you crazy. You know damn well I ain’t fifty,” Nettie said, rolling her eyes. “I turned forty-seven and yes I did get that
one
ol’ cheap card!”
    “I’m just playing, Nettie, you know that!” Storm said as she demanded another hug from Nettie. Nettie steered her over to one of the tables and they sat down and played catch-up.
    “Nettie, I’m just so glad to be out of that place and I never plan on going back.”
    “I know, chile.” Nettie shook her head. “Prison ain’t no joke. Youknow I’ve been down that road. Shit, there was a time I was locked up more times than a bank vault.” They both let out a hearty laugh. “Shit, I don’t know where I’d be if yo daddy didn’t accept me off the street.”
    Storm’s expression became solemn and her gaze drifted to the framed portrait of Dutch on the wall.
    “Well, that stuff is all behind you now, Baby Girl.” Nettie tenderly rubbed Storm’s hand. Baby Girl was what Nettie always called Storm. Hearing that name again soothed and comforted Storm instantly. “You’re gonna work here, ain’t you?” Nettie asked.
    “For a while, I suppose. I spoke to Sidney and he said there would be something available,” Storm added.
    “Oh, that’s right. Well, let me run upstairs and get the new menus your sister had printed up.” Nettie stood, gave Storm a hug, and started to leave.
    “Menus? Y’all selling food, too?” Storm asked as she scanned the club.
    “Yeah, girl, just some little hors d’oeuvres and appetizers—shit like that. Your sister hasn’t decided on a full menu yet.”
    “Sky’s doing it like Dutch, huh? Serving food like we used to when it was Morrison’s?” Storm managed a nervous smile.
    “A little bit.” Nettie winked. “I need to run in the back and get a few more supplies, Storm. I’ll be right back. Settle yourself in. Your sister should be here soon.”
    “Okay. Cool.”
    Reaching the door that led to the second floor, Nettie suddenly stopped and turned toward Storm. “So glad to have you home, baby. You know, you and your sister are like family to me,” she said tenderly as tears formed in her eyes.
    “I know, Nettie. I know,” Storm said and smiled at Nettie.
    Storm decided to take a tour of the club. Checking out the decor and layout of the main room, she made her way over to the Legends wall with its photos and paintings of musicians and artists and actors. As her eyes scanned the wall, she zeroed in on another black-and-white photo. It was a picture of two little girls, holding handsand smiling broadly at the camera—her and Skylar at age five. Dutch had taken the girls to Hershey Park, the amusement park outside Philadelphia, the summer they finished kindergarten. In one hand each girl was holding a few miniature Hershey’s candy bars; with the other hand they were holding on to each other.
    No mistaking that these girls were twins. Although dressed differently, they had the same excited expressions on their faces. Even the way they were pointing their left feet and leaning back was identical. Storm remembered Skylar telling her that when taking a photo, you must stand like Janet Jackson. Janet was the only common interest the girls shared. They were both huge fans, especially after Janet released
Control
in 1986.
That’s how I remember
you
that day, Sky. Controlling
.
    Storm touched the photo gently and laughed at the memory. At this moment, the door swung open and Skylar