Hold

𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆

"You ready?" I asked Cheyenne as I pulled up to the address Ma sent for us to meet with her today. She was renting an Airbnb in the complex and had invited us to have a conversation with her. 

Cleo Sol's soothing voice had accompanied my sister and I on the nerve-wracking trip, some of the lyrics to her songs reminding me to extend grace no matter how frustrating this conversation would get. I chose to believe that reaching out to us was a big step for our mother and that maybe, just maybe, this little reunion would bring about some clarity.

In response to my question, Chey shook her head, sighed heavily and ran her hands over her t-shirt dress, which didn't actually need any extra soothing. "I haven't seen her in years. I have no idea what I'll say to her and I wonder what she's going to say to me."

"Well if it helps, you've done this before..." I said, holding her hand in mine while I tried to assuage her. "It's not that long ago that you walked into Pamoja and found me there after so many years of separation."

"Nice try, but this is not the same and you know it." Chey chuckled dryly, her eyes revealing deep-rooted hurt. "You didn't have a choice, Toya. She did."

I now had no words of consolation for her, everything I could have said would probably not be enough because the person she needed to hear from was Ma herself. Still, I held her hand a little tighter and gave her my best attempt at an encouraging smile. "Whatever happens, we've got each other, Chey Chey."

"Till the wheels fall off." she smiled and gave my hand a squeeze. "Let's go before I take Alex on his offer to come and bail me out."

I called Ma and let her know we were at the gate, nervousness creeping in as she gave me the gate's code and directed me to the parking lot. Soon, we were at her door, Chey knocking as my mounting nerves made it hard for me to think properly, let alone move.

When Bridget opened the door in a colourful satin kaftan, I was faced with the most uncanny sight, two Cheyennes standing in front of me, staring each other down as I helplessly ogled them both. It was truly mind-blowing the resemblance between my mother and my sister. Their height, complexion and facial features were identical. Ma had a softer and rounder figure, while every muscle on Chey's body was taut, but even their proportions were similar.

I remembered being younger and harbouring a childish jealousy for my sister's looks. I hated looking like DJ, and transitioning into my teens in a time where darker skin, love handles and a rounder belly were usually on the receiving end of mean-spirited teasing made it hard for me to love my appearance. Thankfully, I'd made peace with all of this in my early twenties and learned to love most of these insecurities.

"Girls. You made it. Why don't you come in?" she said demurely, breaking the silence and the staring contest as she looked from Chey to me with an equally nervous and hopeful smile. Her English accent was more pronounced now that we were standing face to face, and I wondered how long it took for her to completely shed who she'd once been and put on this new persona.