The Banks Sisters (9 page)

Bunny bent the corner almost on two wheels when she pulled up at the funeral home. Like a superhero she jumped out of the car, ready to solve her older sister's dilemma at hand.

“Bunny,” Tallhya called out to her sister, who was hightailing it up the sidewalk of the funeral home. “Bunny! Hold on!” Tallhya hurried up and got out of the car to try to catch up with her sister. “Wait,” she called out trailing behind Bunny.

Bunny finally got the hint, and decided to stop in her tracks. She huffed and looked at her overweight sister trying to move as fast as she could. “Well, hurry up then.”

Tallhya had put a lot of pep in her step and finally caught up, “Look, we not here for you to act simple okay?” Tallhya had the most serious look on her face. She knew her sister all too well. What folks would never detect about Bunny, was that her looks were very deceiving. Behind every pair of mink eyelashes and red bottomed Christian Louboutin, there was more than meets the eye. In every Celine bags, Bunny packed a sharp blade and had no problem slicing someone up like a piece of deli meet or slapping the cowboy shit out of anybody she felt warranted it in regard to herself or anybody she loved.

“Well, they better not start none, it won't be none,” Bunny said in a serious stance.

Tallhya grabbed her sister's arm and looked in her eyes, “As I said, before we left the house, and in the car on the way over here, we are not here to start nothing. I don't want to cause drama or be disrespectful in no kind of way. I only want to get to the bottom of this. That's it, that's all,” she gave a hard, firm stare and made direct eye contact with her sister. “I'm not fucking bullshitting okay.”

Bunny saw the passion mixed with the hurt in her sister's eyes, sucked her teeth and then nodded, “Look sis, I'm only here to support you nothing, else.”

“I know, you are,” Tallhya said, “and I'm glad you are here by my side. That's what sisters are for, right,” Bunny reminded Tallhya.

“I know it sounds crazy, but if I see the baby. I will know if it's his or not.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bunny put her arm around her sister and they walked side by side. “Sounds like some shit, that Me-Ma would say.” She chuckled a bit, trying to shine a bring light onto the situation, “You know how them old folks are with babies.” She transformed her voice into an old lady's, “Bring 'em here so I can see 'em,” she tried to make jokes of the situation as they continued their stride to the entrance.

They entered into the quiet, morbid funeral home. “Yes, may I help you,” the spooky looking man, dressed in an all black startled them.

“Yes, we are here to see the baby,” Bunny said making eye contact with him.

“Yes, this way.”

The funeral director showed them into the viewing room, where the closed small casket rested on a pedestal. The whole ambience of the room was so gloomy. The second they saw the huge portrait on a tall gold easel of the innocent little baby girl in a beautiful white satin dress, the two were immediately sorrowful.

“This is so horrible,” Bunny said, dropping her head just the sight of seeing the picture of the little baby girl there with so much life in her eyes, made Bunny forget all about the intended turn-up and why she had came there in the first place. “It's just,” she searched for the word, “it's just so, so, so tragic.”

Tallhya couldn't help herself. She stared at the little girl with tears in her eyes, she was astonished at how she was looking at the spitting image of Walter. Even though Walter had a lot of explaining to do, he had stepped out on her and had a baby with another woman, and never uttered a word of the birth of such a little blessing to her. How could he keep such a thing from her? Indeed, it was a deep betrayal, but Tallhya still felt awful that Walter had lost his daughter. And in a strange way, at that very moment all Tallhya wanted to do was be there for Walter. Though she had not met her step-daughter, Waltima, she was sure that knowing her was an amazing experience and loosing the bundle of joy, a child had to be a heart wrenching pain.

Tears had also filled her eyes, and Bunny was at a lost for words. “Are you okay?” Bunny put her arm around Tallhya and nothing had to be spoken. The embrace simply said it all. “I'm here for you.”

The two felt this chilling energy in the room, and on that note, “Not trying to be sympathetic, but this is so depressing. And can we just get the fuck outta here.” Bunny had enough.

“Yes, I'm ready,” Tallhya had agreed.

The funeral director, held a box of tissues in front of them and then Bunny asked, “Is it possible that I could have a card with the address, please I'd like to send some flowers,” as she took a few tissues for herself and handed a couple to her sister.

“No problem,” the well dressed man said, going into the inside of his pocket pulling out a metal card case and handing her what she asked for.

“Thank you. And you guys really did a good job,” Bunny complimented.

“Thank you so much,” he said with a smile. “This is our calling.” Then he directed them to the hall, to the guest book, and instructed them, “Be sure to sign the book. I'm sure the family would like to know that you were here. That you came by and paid your respects.”

“No thanks,” Tallhya said.

Bunny interjected, “I think I will,” and she did and proceeded to sign the guest book. The second Bunny had crossed her T's and put the pen down, that's when the door popped open. And two ladies entered.

“Yes, may I help you?” the one lady asked, as she looked the two sisters up and down.

“We came here to pay our respects, so sorry for your lost,” Tallhya said as heartfelt as she could.

“And . . . who are you?” the woman asked, with a raised eyebrow.

A small chuckle came out, “Kimmy, calm down! I know who she is.” A tall confident, slim lady with body to die for pointed to Tallhya, then came in closer and spoke up.

The beauty had taken on more curves than a racecar driver Tallhya looked her. She was drop dead gorgeous, in a rich kind of way. The woman was together in every since of the word. Her long twenty-six-inch weave stopped, at the small of her back and was straight like Pocahontas. “No worries, I know who she is,” she pointed at Tallhya in a snobbish kind of way.

“Really?” Bunny questioned, returning the snoody look.

Tallhya only stared, at the woman. She was stunned at how fabulous and gorgeous she was.

“That's Natalia . . . the mark,” she boldly said, “you know the fat, pathetic, desperate, no self-esteem having, stupid bitch that Walter be juicing for all the money and shit. Remember, I told you all about her.” She laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever thought about. “That's her,” she managed to get out somehow as hilarious as it was to her.

Bunny wasn't having it and had to bring the bewitching laughter to a halt. The cheap version of Pocahontas laughs quickly turned to cries for help. Before anyone knew it, Bunny had hit her like Foreman hit Frazier, sent her straight to the floor and out cold immediately turning the lights out in Pocahontas' head.

“Guess that will teach a no-good, two bit ho to laugh at my motherfucking sister.” Bunny was pissed and could not resist kicking her a few times the whole time, looking at Kimmy wishing to God Almighty that she would attempt to do anything. “Yes, I'm going to kick this bitch why she down,” she boldly said.

The funeral director was in mere shock. All he kept saying was, “Oh, my! Oh, my!” He was reaching for the phone. Bunny saw him coming for the cordless phone resting on the charger. That was the only thing that made her stop kicking Pocahontas. She reached for the jack and tossed it across the room. “Oh, nigga you gone call the police on me? You bitch-ass nigga you?” She looked into his eyes and he thought he saw Lucifer himself in front of him.

“Just leave then, please just leave,” he cried out.

“Please sis, please let's leave,” Tallhya said, knowing that Bunny would tear that place up. “Let's just go,” Tallhya pleaded with tears in her eyes to her sister.

“Okay,” she said, and followed after her. Before focusing her attention on Kimmy and with fury in her eyes, she said, “Tell that motherfucker Walter, he can get it, too. He's a real coward-ass nigga. And as for this bitch, right here,” she pointed down at her. “Kindly let her know, I ain't finished with her. Let that ho know, that since she was down for the get down that every time, I see her scheming-ass I'm going to wear her ass out.”

Bunny kicked Pocahontas, who was still lying on the floor looking like she was a permanent resident of la-la land. Bunny added, “And that's a promise on her dead baby soul.” She headed for the door.

The second Bunny's back was to Kimmy; she jumped on her back and started pulling her hair. This sent Bunny in rage. Like she was a feather, Bunny swung her around and body slammed her.

Still unsure, if the funeral director, was trying to break up the fight or get a few licks in, but at this point nobody gave a damn. When Ginger slipped into building and all she saw was this man on her sister, she picked up a folding chair that was in the hallway, tucked away and busted him over his backside. “Fuck off my sister, nigga.”

At that point, it was about to get popping, but Tallhya knew they needed to leave there. “Come on y'all. Let's get the fuck out of here.”

And the siblings fled the scene like a shern-head jacked up off of embalming fluid.

Tears streamed down Simone's face as she drove the shitbox car from the company her dad once owned and not because she was sad. Nah, she had already been sad for way too long as far as she was concerned. The sadness she'd experienced after her father passed had threatened to swallow her whole, but she had gotten to the other side. She realized that instead of the full on pity party she had been throwing herself she needed to be grateful for the time she had with him, the one where all her needs were met and all the life lessons he had taught her. Hell, she knew up close and personal what it looked like not to have the kind of daddy that she had been blessed to have for twenty-nine years. Two of her three sisters both had trifling deadbeat good for nothing fathers while Ginger didn't have any idea which of two many to count sexual partners had deposited the lucky sperm into their mother that helped create her. Simone had a daddy, dedicated to her and able to express his love every single day so no matter what she would always have those memories to fall back on. And right now all she could wonder about is,
What would my daddy do
?

“Dammit,” she spat out to no one in particular at all the emotions spilling over inside of her. So, no these were not tears of pity or sadness, these were the full expression of the rage bubbling up inside of her at the plain ole bullshit that had gone down today. If her father knew the dirty dog way Marjorie treated her after he was gone he would have thrown her out on her ass a long time ago. So come hell or high water Simone planned to make that happen, she didn't know when, but as long as her ass could breath out a breath that conniving bitch would pay for the way she disrespected her father's wishes to have his only child taken care of. With God as her witness she swore the shit was going down.

And the way Tommy, that fake-ass buster had pretended to be her father's best friend all those years when in reality he was a disgusting predator waiting to pounce on her; his no good-ass would get his too she thought as she sat there adding up the offenses. Before she could begin to formulate a plan Simone glanced down at her phone ringing and recognized the same number she'd seen earlier, but hadn't wanted to answer it. Of course the first thing that came to mind that is was one of her favorite stores calling to inform her of a sale or an item she had been waiting on. Being a spoiled daddy's girl, Simone had developed an over the top shopping addiction that had been funded by her daddy. Every high-end clothing store within driving distance of Richmond had her number on speed dial just in case any of her favorite designers new lines came in. She ticked off her favorites; Louie, Celine, Balenciaga, Chloé, and Prada. Damn, she was missing her former life. She sure did her share of damage, but those days were gone and she wasn't in the mood to explain to the over eager sales woman on the other end why she hadn't seen her black card running through their credit machines lately.

I need to ignore that damn call,
she thought, but since the person was being persistent she'd have to take out her frustration on them. Simone pulled her car over and answered the call. This no Bluetooth having bullshit was already wrecking her goddam nerves on top of everything else.

“Hello,” she snapped into the receiver for once not using the perfect ladylike telephone manners her daddy had taught to her. The person on the other end of the phone took a deep breath before responding probably trying to figure out how to deal with the big no that they were guaranteed to hear.

“I'm looking for Simone Banks,” the woman on the other end spoke. “Is this her?”

“Yes, this is her,” Simone answered, desperate to get off the phone and back to her thoughts. She had a lot of things to figure out the first being how the hell she'd get another job which was only a close second to when would she put her whole entire foot up Marjorie's ass.

“This is Dr. Cohen's office. The doctor would like to see you at your earliest convenience, today if possible. It's about your test results.” Upon hearing that Simone felt all the blood rush out of her body. That particular statement usually led to the person hearing it to begin playing out worse case scenarios in their head except this wasn't the first time she'd experienced those words. Her father's doctor started with those words and just a short time later his daughter stood over his wet gravesite as his casket was lowered into the hole in the ground, as buckets of rain fell blending with the outpouring of Simone's own grief.

“I'm sorry what did you just say?” Simone's voice lost all the anger and attitude as she tried to process exactly what this woman was saying. By the time she hung up and redirected her car in the direction of the doctor's office downtown Simone had gone through an entirely different barrage of emotions. She had all but forgotten the mandatory physical she had recently taken that had been required for her new job at the bank. They'd done a battery of tests including taking blood samples, but nothing she'd given a second thought too especially since she was so young and healthy. Her immediate reaction was the reach for the phone to call her father and to have him meet her at the doctor's office, just a knee jerk reaction before reality came flooding back knocking her into the presence. She could have called Bunny, but as much as she loved her sister, the thought of her no-patience-ass in the doctors' office did not comfort her. Plus, all she had to do was call one sister to have them tell the other two and her grandmother. And the last thing she wanted was to worry her Me-Ma. Her grandmother would immediately remind her to pray and throw this whole medical thing up to God. Then, Me-Ma would insist on meeting her at the office with any available prayer warrior she could bring from church. So in the end she decided to go alone figuring how bad could it be? Just thinking about how her grandmother would handle the situation reminded her to pray, Her grandmother's feet didn't hit the floor in the morning without a prayer on her lips and of all her grandchildren Simone was the only one who maintained a close relationship to God. “Trust in the Lord for He knows your every need,” Simone whispered to herself as she entered the office.

“The doctor will see you,” the pert bottle blonde stood up and led her into one of the three patient waiting rooms. “You can put this on,” she smiled as she handed over a paper hospital gown. Simone took it and had just tied the strings in the back when the door opened Dr. Cohen, the internist entered in his white lab coat and carrying a clipboard like something out of a medical drama. Simone had been coming for her once a year checkup since she'd turned eighteen with another one of the doctors at the practice who had recently retired which is why she didn't really know this man about to deliver some hopefully not so bad news.

“Did you come alone?” his brow furrowed as he approached staring from her to the papers attached to his clipboard.

“Uh, yeah. I was already in the car when I got the call. I figured how bad could it be?” Simone joked as she waited to see if the doctor would join in. He didn't. Now her ass was starting really worry.

“I'm sorry to have to tell you this but your blood tests indicate an abnormality that point to ovarian cancer.” He couldn't help, but look glum giving this kind of diagnosis to someone so young.

Wait, what? Cancer? I have cancer? My father just died from cancer
. These thoughts swirled in her head as she began to dry heave, her mouth feeling dry. She stood up pacing the room like a caged rat except it wasn't the room it had more to do with wanting to get out of her own skin.

“Ms. Banks, right now we need to administer a scan and some other tests to determine if you have cancer. But just know that with early treatment this form of cancer has an 80 percent chance of full recovery.”

She didn't respond because Simone couldn't hear anything it all sounded like the Charlie Brown character, ‘waaa waaaaa waaaaa waaaa,' his words were incoherent. Everything started to spin around her and she felt as if she were in some kind of tunnel. She could barely make out the nurse who rushed in helping the doctor pick her up and place her on the examining table. When Simone came to, the nurse was fanning her and rubbing ice on her face.

“What. . . . what happened?” she sputtered although to both the doctor and nurse it appeared obvious.

“You fainted.” Both the doctor and the nurse answered. “We tried calling the name of next of kin on your contact forms and the number was disconnected.” Simone sat there staring into space trying to connect when another woman entered with a glass of water and handed it to her. Simone began to drink, but what she really wanted to do was to throw the glass against a wall and smash it. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. The doctor, nurse, and assistant fawned over her like a newborn baby. They checked her blood pressure, took her temperature and even offered to get her some food. Simone might have been hungry when she got there, but the news of her health crisis dissolved any hunger she may have had. All she wanted was to get home and to have Me-Ma tell her that God would take care of everything. That she would be all right.

“We need to schedule this surgery as soon as possible, Dr. Cohen spoke in a calm manner.

“Surgery?”

“Yes, it's a standard laparoscopy so that I can take a look and find out what's going on. We will biopsy a small piece and that will tell us everything we need to know.” He'd been doing this for a long time, but ever since the practice switched from regular to concierge medicine the care they showed was something out of the 50's. Hell, they even had an advertisement in the waiting room announcing that they now made house calls. Simone wished she were sitting in her Me-Ma's house with her family around her as she heard this news.

“Do you still have the same insurance? Blue Cross PPO?” the receptionist asked in a syrupy sweet way, same as the cashiers of all her favorite couture shops when they knew you were about to sign for some really expensive shit as Simone scheduled her laparoscopy. Simone didn't even have her wallet. The cop hadn't given it back yet and if it wasn't for the fact that bitch of a step monster had canceled all of her credit cards she might have insisted he release her wallet.

“Yes,” she responded grateful that at least she could count on something in her life still working even if the reason sucked.

“Let me just get approval for the procedure,” she smiled up at Simone, dialed a number and waited. The Bach piano concerto playing took Simone back to all the years of piano lessons that helped her to play this piece perfectly. She even played it at her first beauty competition and of course she won. Simon had been so proud, his attention lasered in on his baby girl up on that big stage making the other girls fade like background players next to her.

The receptionist had to call her name three times to get Simone's attention she had gotten so carried away with the memories of the music that for a moment she had forgotten where she was or why.

“Ms. Banks, the insurance company informed us that your policy is no longer current.” The woman's thin lips pursed together, her eyes fixed on Simone as she moved her chair back. The receptionist had experienced the mercurial nature of patients and she didn't want to be caught off guard.

“I'm sorry, that's impossible,” Simone sputtered and then had to listen as the woman patiently explained that because she was no longer an employee at her father's company they had canceled her coverage. With everything going on she hadn't bothered to check her medical insurance status. She hadn't held a real job at her father's company in years, but every two weeks he cut her a check that kept her flushed, able to pursuit her interests. And she had a three-month trial before she became permanent at the bank, which came with full benefits. But she hadn't planned to go back to the bank after the stick up.

By the time they hustled her out of there, she had received a list of free clinics mostly in neighborhoods that just a few months ago, she wouldn't have even dared to drive through. She couldn't bear to look directly into the doctor's face when she left. She felt so embarrassed that her insurance was no longer valid that she grabbed her keys, clutched the paperwork she had been given and walked back to her crappy car. She didn't know what the hell she was going to do, but she knew not to play around with her diagnosis. Her father had refused to go to the doctor for an annual check up no matter how much she prodded him over the years. Last year he began complaining of aches and pains and by the time Simone was able to convince him to see a doctor because he felt terrible, his prognosis was dire with doctors giving him less than a month to live.

“Seriously?” She fumed watching a meter maid affix a ticket on the windshield of her car. Simone picked up the ticket and threw it onto the ground giving the meter maid a hard stare just begging her to open her mouth because all of her manners were balled up in her fists ready to take someone down. But then she realized that the car wasn't in her name so she wouldn't get the ticket, the only silver lining in this shitshow of a day.