David's leaning against the doorway of the closet under his stairs, watching Judith shake her laundry into the dryer.
"So, are you coming back to school?" She scoffs at the idea and shuts the lid.
"No. I still don't understand why he wanted me back after everything that happened." She turns, then tugs the white dial, and her clothes tumble around in the machine. "It feels like a trick."
"Why do you say that?" Judith sifts through her pockets, and David watches her right hand retrieve a dingy, torn card. She looks at its face and furrows her eyebrows.
John Lewis?
"I wouldn't lay with a girl as young as you." She remembers his voice. It was smooth, but his breath reeked of spearmint to mask his love for cigarettes.
"What's that?" David steps into the small room and presses his hands on the tables and machines. They aide his body closer to hers until finally, he stands at her height. He peeks over her shoulder, reads the card, then asks, "Who's John Lewis?"
"No one." Judith shoves the card into the left pocket of her overalls, her gaze trained on the knob on the machine. He looks into the side of her dark brown eyes and his mind is filled with questions, but when he opens his mouth to speak, nothing comes out. Pressing her index against the door, she lets out a dry chuckle and asks, "Do I not put quarters in this thing?"
"What?" Her question takes him out of his thoughts, and he darts his attention from her to the dryer, then to her again.
"At the laundromat, I have to put quarters in the machine." When she finally turns her head to look at him, she trails off until she stops speaking.
"No," he says through light laughter, but her expression remains neutral. "Oh, man, you're funny. At the laundromat, that's how they run their business: stealing your quarters. At home, you just let the machine do its thing; no charge."
Judith sets the laundry bag on the machine but doesn't release her grasp on it. She watches it under her hand for a second.
Should I just bring the bag home?
"Hey, my mom made Chicken Chow Mein for her bridge club thing, and we have a ton of leftovers," David says, and she gives him a confused stare.
"Chicken what?" He reaches his right arm over the dryer and takes her hand in his. She lowers her gaze onto his fingers and slowly pulls away. Her meek voice is barely audible when she says, "I'm gonna just head home."
"That's fine, but," he begins, then drops his head to look at the floor between them. "I wanted to apologize."
"You're always apologizing," she reminds him, and he glances at her long enough to send goosebumps up her arms. "What're you sorry for?"
"The way things ended between us. I think about you a lot." Judith blinks, and her head jerks back from shock.
"Wow," she mumbles, and her eyes glaze onto the dryer.
"I think about holding you and kissing you," David stops, and she returns her attention to him. Her heart begins to race as she anxiously waits for him to continue. "Making love to you."
"Okay, stop," she tells him with her face scrunched from disgust. Judith snatches her laundry bag in her left hand and steps past him, but he grips her left wrist and turns to her just as she faces him. "Let me go."
"Judy, please just listen to me," he gently begs. She attempts to yank her arm back to her side, and he tightens his grip on her.
"David, let me go," she demands louder than before, but he doesn't budge.
"I don't love Mary," he blurts out, expecting her to stop fighting him. She tugs her hand again, and he squeezes her tighter. She drops the bag. "Please listen to me. She doesn't fuck me the way that you used to."
David pulls her closer to him, and she begins to slip into another memory.
No. No, not this again. Just pull away and leave.
"We used to have fun. We had a chemistry that I don't have with her, and you loved me." Her heart pounds in her ears, and she feels her stomach descend with the phantom sweat on the nape of her neck. David leans his lips closer to her right ear, and he whispers, "You used to scream my name."
"David, stop," she yells, reminiscent of her screaming on their first date.
Before another memory plays in her head, she lunges her right knee into his crotch and watches his eyes and mouth grow wide.
He takes his hand off of her to grasp his groin, and as he groans in pain, she sprints out of the room under the stairs. He follows her with his eyes until she turns the corner. He drops his head, his face turning red.
Huffing and puffing, she continues to the living room, and her chest crashes into the front door. The lights are low and warm-toned around her, and the door is locked.
Her shaky right-hand fumbles with the bolts, and David emerges from the laundry room with his hands in fists at his sides.
Judith turns the top lock, her breath and tears clouding her vision. He stands under the frame between the living room and the foyer, then clears his throat. She gasps at the sound of his voice but continues fighting with the bottom lock.
"I let myself be vulnerable for you, and you take my feelings and crush them," he says, then limps toward her. Just as she turns the lock on the knob, he stands behind her. Judith pulls the door open, and he slams his right hand against it, forcing it to shut. "You're not leaving me again."
Judith heaves it open again, and David bangs it shut just as quickly as the first time. She gasps again, her breaths entering and exiting like asthmatic wheezes.
David trails his hands around her small waist, and he hugs her trembling body in his arms. He pulls her to the floor, and as he straddles her backside, she shrieks, "Stop!"
"Stop screaming before you wake up my parents," he yells, and faint footsteps follow. They avert their attention to the stairs as a little girl descends them in a lavender gown that reaches her ankles.
"David," the girl calls for him, then approaches the arch. Judith attempts to crawl from under his legs, but it's to no avail.
"Great going," he mumbles, then in a louder voice, he says, "Go to bed, Shelly."
"Go get help," Judith yells, and the little girl watches her. David presses her face into the rug in one hand and pushes her back down with the other. His weight on her squeezes the air out of her lungs.
"David, what're you doing," she asks her brother, and he takes a deep breath. Judith's face turns red, and her eyes shut. She wants to scream, but she's unable to breathe.
"Michelle, go to bed," he yells, and the girl flinches. He watches her dart up the stairs, then he exhales from relief and looks down at Judith.
He removes his hands, and as he straightens his posture, her eyes flick open, and she draws in a big gust of air.
***
"Momma, me and my friends wanted to be Jill, Sabrina, and Kelly from Charlie's Angels," Vera tells Sheryl. Judith trudges down the stairs with dark circles under her eyes and her afro askew. "I'm supposed to be Farrah Fawcett, not whoever this is!"
"I thought you'd like Pippi Longstock," Sheryl tells her while looking her over. Vera's dark hair is straightened and braided in pigtails, hoisted above her ears by a red hair ribbon. She's wearing a black corduroy dress over a burgundy shirt, stockings, and black Mary Janes.
Stevie's donning a pair of silver space boots and a red bodysuit with a large triangle in the center and a triangle on each wrist.
"Momma, I didn't even like her when I was little," Vera says, crossing her arms.
Judith steps into the kitchen with them and makes a beeline for the sink. Stevie and Rembrandt are sitting at the dining table eating strawberry pastries. Vera and Sheryl turn their confused looks to her as she reaches for a floral bowl.
"Judy, why didn't you change your clothes," Sheryl asks, and she watches her grab a silver spoon.
"Why didn't you shower is the real question?" Vera pinches her nose and laughs at her half-joking question. Sheryl glares at her, and Judith stares at her reflection in the window above the sink.
Don't respond.
"Vera, go sit at the table! I'll bring your plate." She does as she's told, and when she sits next to Stevie, Sheryl turns to Judy. In a low voice, she says, "Go wash up and change your clothes."
"Why?" Judith looks at her over her shoulder. Sheryl furrows her brows. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
"Actually, you are. I got a call from your school, and apparently, the dean is allowing you to come back," she explains. "Hopefully, this and David bringing you home are signs that things will go back to normal."
"What? David brought me home?" Judith turns to her and glances into the dining room.
"Yes," Sheryl answers with a questioning tone. "He said he let you use his dryer for your laundry, and you fell asleep on his couch."
Judith hears her voice in her head, screaming and crying relentlessly. She ignores it and walks past her mother, stepping in front of the rotary phone.
"I don't know if I want to go back to school?" Sheryl veers around to her, and with wide eyes, she looks at her uncle for help.
He shakes his head and takes another bite of his half-finished pastry, so she returns her attention to her daughter.
"And why not," she asks, her voice wavering with bubbling anger.
Judith shrugs, sits her dishes on the counter, then opens the cabinet above the phone. Two boxes of cereal – Cheerios and Rice Krinkles – are stacked side by side, and she stares at them in thought.
"Judy," Sheryl calls for her. "Why don't you wanna go back to school?"
"Because the dean doesn't care about me or any black woman on that campus." She takes the Cheerios, and her mother narrows her eyes at her. "David was able to beat me in front of everyone and still get away with it."
"What," Rembrandt yells out with a mouthful of mush.
"I knew it," Stevie mumbles after tossing his pastry onto his plate. He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms with Vera staring at him.
"She meant that he beat her in a game," Sheryl lies, and Stevie kisses his teeth. Judith pours the cereal into her bowl.
"Ma, we're thirteen, not seven," he reminds her, and Sheryl rolls her eyes.
"Since you wanna get smart with me, both of you go outside and wait in the car." She folds her arms over the top of her apron.
"But Momma, I didn't eat yet," Vera yells, her eyes wide and filling with tears. Stevie slides his chair back and stands with his space helmet he sat by his feet.
"Well, grab a pop-tart and go with your brother." She scoffs and follows her twin into the kitchen. As he continues to the living room to grab his book bag off the couch, she stands beside Judith.
"Get ready to catch the bus, Judy," Sheryl tells her as she unfastens her apron.
***
The autumn-colored leaves her neighbors swept onto the sidewalk remind her of rose petals leading her to the bus stop, and as if they're glued to the pavement, the winter breeze doesn't lift them.
She's hugging herself in coffee brown jeans and a grey sweater, and her mind reels with images of David and John. She lifts her head as she approaches the bench and notices that it's empty.
I guess they're already on campus.
Judith sits in the middle and takes a shaky breath, the wind catching at her lips in a puff of white smoke.