Chapter Twenty-Four.
"You have my vows. I vow to you that I'll come back for it and for the both of you, tonight." — Simon Deeds Hayes.
April 23rd, 2001
New Orleans, Louisiana
Long lashes graze the vision of a now awakened; Citrus Milan Hayes. She blinks, closes her eyes, and blinks again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the bay window of her large bedroom. The color from her bright pink walls, illuminating against her dark skin. She takes in the messy state of her room, an abundance of the latest and most expensive toys; scattered all over the place. Just as she left it the night before.
"I look back on all those good times we once shared, and I must have been blind just to think, I'd find someone new. One who'd love me better than you."
The two things Citrus woke up to every Saturday morning; breakfast and the sensational voice of Anita Baker, stemming from her mother's one and only vinyl record. A song speaking of everything Noel felt when it came to her relationship with Deeds. Not only that but her battle with drugs.
At the age of six, Citrus had grown rather familiar with the song. She never understood it's meaning, or even why her mother loved it so much. But she knew it word for word as mentioned before; it woke her up every Saturday morning.
Fighting through her cotton soft sheets, her legs finally make it over the twin-sized bed. Feet hitting the cushiony creme carpet and rubbing against them. The fluorescent numbers of the alarm clock beside her bed teased her with the time of nine o'clock am. Citrus harshly rubs at her-eyes with soft palms, yawning only gently.
"Good morning, beautiful." Noel stuck her head into the doorway. "You hungry?"
"Morning mommy." Citrus ran to Noel's side.
Bending down to her daughter's level, Noel proceeded to drown Citrus's face in kisses. Another morning ritual they practiced.
"Come on," Noel picked her up. "Let's brush your teeth, then we can eat."
"And dance?" Citrus inquired.
"Yep," Noel chuckled. "And dance."
Eyes still remained heavy as she nestled into her mother's arms. Noel led them downstairs to the kitchen. Breakfast laid out along the island; consisting of an appetizing array of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit. She had Citrus's toothbrush placed on the side of the sink, where she then proceeded to assist her get the job done.
Once completed, she placed Citrus at the table. Citrus's little eyes watched as her mother moved around the kitchen. Swaying her hips and singing her heart out. She piled Citrus's plate with food and two-stepped along to the beat of the song.
As she did every other day or so, Citrus mentally tracked Noel's progress. Just as she noted the day before, her mother's appearance continued to decline. The month's surpassed, and Noel's once brown skin continued to grow dingy and dull. Teeth thin and yellow, body skinny and barely holding on. She walked with her head held high but a blind person could sense she was falling apart at the seams. Yet and still, she was the most beautiful woman Citrus had ever laid her eyes on.
Noel Constance Baptiste; a woman who could turn heads like swivel chairs. At the drop of a dime, considering her beauty was out of this world. From head to toe, everything about her could be described as mesmerizing. Her smile and laugh stopping you dead in your tracks, and her eyes seeming to light up the world when she'd smile. Everything about her redefined perfect. She had the ability to make anyone forget how to breathe.
