Electric Echoes: A Melodic Tango of Love and Reluctance

Wielding Secrets

Chapter Five

February 11th, 1982

"James, wake up now! What the heck are all of these dishes in the sink? Until we hire a maid, I'm not yours, so clean it up! Now!"

Startled by my mother's shrill voice, I spring out of bed, feeling panic wash over me. I had ice cream last night and forgot to clean the bowl. Rushing into the kitchen, I hurriedly try to wash away the evidence, still half-asleep.

"Mmhmm, try all you want, but your tricks won't work. What have I told you about eating that stuff!?" She remarks from the doorway, cigarette dangling from her perfectly manicured fingers.

Ignoring her, I continue washing, silently praying that she'll drop it. But, of course, we're talking about Nalah Cymone, so that's a no-go.

"Are you trying to ruin your contract by turning into a fat cow? Ice cream is not good for you, James, and when you start losing jobs, don't come crawling to me," she says, her words cutting deep, as they always do.

Ignoring her jabs, I scrub the bowl vigorously until there's a literal crack in the bottom. Anything to avoid showing her how much her words hurt. I can't let it get to me; otherwise, it'll only get worse.

"It was sugar-free, and besides, I work out five days a week. I'll be fine," I retort, drying the bowl and putting it away.

As I try to walk past her to the bathroom, she fixes me with that same soul-searing stare she's given me my whole life. "You just watch yourself, girl. I'm not putting all this work into your little butt for you to throw it all away for junk food."

"Oh my God, okay!" I exclaim, feeling exasperated, as I make my way down the hallway.

Back in my room, I dial Jerry's number in frustration. After a few rings, his assistant answers.

"Jerry Bourke's office."

"Hey, Gladys, it's James. Is he in?" I ask, trying to mask my irritation.

"Hello, James. Yes, he is. Let me just patch you through."

"Thank you," I say as the line rings again.

"Hello, Miss Cymone, how was Japan?" Jerry greets me.

"Just mentioning it makes me feel the jetlag all over again. We just got back three days ago," I reply, feeling exhausted. "Please tell me you have something for me finally."

"Of course. I promised I'd have something for you when you got back, didn't I?" Jerry reassures me.

Sitting down on my bed, I light a cigarette and open the window, balancing the receiver between my chin and neck. "Well?" I prompt impatiently, blowing smoke out of the window.

"I had a private detective do some digging on your mom, as you asked... And it's more complicated than I thought," Jerry explains cautiously.

"Complicated? What do you mean, Jerry?" I inquire, feeling a sense of unease creeping in.

"Well... We have enough information to get you emancipated, but that's not the problem," Jerry continues.

"Okay, just spit it out, Jerry," I urge, feeling my impatience growing.

"The detective looked into your birth records and found a discrepancy. James, your mother's name isn't on it. In fact, no parents are listed," Jerry reveals.

My mind goes blank, and I'm left speechless. His words feel foreign, and I struggle to comprehend them until Jerry speaks again.

"Miss Cymone, are you still there?" he asks, bringing me back to reality.