Chapter 11

Kit stepped out of the shower in his home’s only bathroom with his towel around his waist. In his room he dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Leaning over his bed he nudged Nichelle. “Morning, sleepy-head,” he said. “I’m going downstairs.”

“Mmm ... Okay...”

Kit found his mom in the kitchen. She poured a mug of coffee for him. “Where’s Nichelle?” she asked.

“She’ll be down soon. It’s harder for her to get up in the morning than it is for me. She likes her sleep.”

“That genealogy business was quite the bombshell, Kit. I was speaking to your dad. We still are finding it hard to believe we have two direct descendants of the same ancestor under our roof.”

“I think it’s neat,” Kit remarked. “It’s like the high road and the low road are meeting once again. I was surprised to find black genes in my makeup, although Felicia -- that’s Nichelle’s mom -- says a very large portion, if not the majority, of whites do have some black blood in them.”

“That comes from my side of the family,” Janet admitted.

“What -- do I have a black great-grandparent? Twelve percent is about an eighth, which would indicate a black great-grandparent.”

“No. Let’s say there was a mixed-race child born out of wedlock somewhere along the line and leave it at that.”

“Felicia is researching Dad’s side of the family. Is it okay if she digs into your side, too?”

“Have her dig away. I’m curious to see what she digs up.”

Kit paused. “I think I hear Nichelle’s hair dryer. She should be down in a little while. What do you think of her, Mom?”

“She’s not what I expected, Kit. When you called and told me you had a black girlfriend I expected ... well, I don’t know what I expected. Nichelle is a very bright, articulate, well-educated and well-raised girl. She has good posture, Kit. I regard good posture as an indication of a proper upbringing.”

“That’s why you always told me to sit up straight.”

“Exactly. She’s pretty and poised, and in those tight jeans she wears, I think she has a cute little bottom.”

“I think she’s really pretty.”

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Kit. I can tell how much in love you both are. Young love like yours is a thing of beauty in itself. Have you popped the question?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“We haven’t discussed getting engaged, but I think we both know it’s the direction we’re headed.”

“Just so there’s no doubt -- I would consider it an honor and a privilege to call her my daughter-in-law. Your dad feels the same way. She’s a lovely girl.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Nichelle stepped into the kitchen in jeans and a pullover turtleneck. “Good morning,” she said.

“Nichelle,” his mom said, “sweetheart, how are you feeling today?”

“Better. Sleep did me good.”

“Did you sleep well in that narrow bed?”

“We always sleep well in close quarters. Don’t we, cousin?”

“Coffee?” Kit asked.

“Oh, yes, please.”

“We have toaster waffles and cereal,” Janet suggested. We’re really not breakfast people.”

“Neither am I. I like a snack around ten.” Nichelle sat with a mug of coffee.

“Your dad doesn’t have any clients today, so he figured he would go pick out a Christmas tree. Annie is amped to go along with him. Maybe you two would like to join them. He goes to a cut-your-own tree farm.”

“I didn’t bring any gloves,” Nichelle replied.

“Maybe Annie has a pair you can borrow. He’ll also start brining a turkey -- we’ll have our Christmas tomorrow ... open presents and enjoy our special dinner. Then, I thought you said you were planning on driving back the next day.”

“Yes, the twenty-second, after lunch.” Kit replied. “We need to be back in time for the midnight Christmas Eve service at Felicia’s church. We wanted some flexibility in case of bad weather.”

“We’d love it if you could stay longer. The weather forecast is favorable. If you could leave after lunch on Christmas Eve, I’m sure you’d be there in time and we’d have a couple more days together.”

Nichelle turned to him. “Could we stay? We already decorated Mom’s tree. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“We won’t be trouble, will we?” Kit asked.

“Absolutely not. Kit -- we won’t see you again until summer, and I don’t know when we’ll see Nichelle again.”

“Believe me, Mom. Nichelle and I are sticking together like glue. If you see me, you’ll see her.”

Nichelle parked the Audi along the curb outside her mother’s condo. Kit unloaded the trunk and carried the bags to the stoop. Nichelle drove around to the back and shortly opened the front door. Kit carried the bags up to the second floor guest room.

“Mom’s still at work,” Nichelle observed.

“What’s that smell? Kit asked. “Something’s cooking.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. Mom makes her famous mac and cheese.”

“This is your Christmas Eve dinner tradition?”

“Yes -- it’s so salty and fatty and full of carbs and calories, but it’s sooo good ... It’s comfort food, not healthy food. So she makes it once a year, on Christmas Eve. The oven has a timer and she set it so dinner will be ready as soon as she comes home. All she needs to do is to saute some green beans she’s already blanched and dinner will be ready. We’ll have time to open presents before heading out to the midnight service.”

“You open presents on Christmas Eve?”

“We open one gift each and save the rest for Christmas Day.”

“My mom and I had a talk the morning after we arrived. She said she thinks you have a cute little bottom.”

“Your mom said that about me? Well, I’ll give her cute, ‘cuz that’s subjective. However, little is objective, and my bottom is not little. I tell you, Kit -- I wish some of what I have below my waist could be redistributed above it.”

“I wouldn’t want that,” he replied. “You’d be someone else. You’d no longer be Nichelle.”

“Do you think I have a cute little butt?”

“I think you have a cute, Nichelle-sized butt and I love it. Mom also asked me if we had discussed getting engaged. I told her we hadn’t discussed it, but we both know that’s the direction we’re headed.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“If that’s the direction we’re headed -- why not admit we’re engaged? We don’t need to set a date. We still need to graduate and define our careers. Nichelle -- I’d love to be able to call you my fiancee instead of my girlfriend. Wouldn’t you rather be my fiancee than my girlfriend?”

“I’d love it, Kit. It sounds so much more ... committed.”

“I am committed to you. So, are we engaged?”

“I guess we are.”

Kit heard the front door unlock. Felicia stepped in and slipped off a winter coat. “It’s getting brisk out there,” she said. “Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds, returning to the nest.”

“Mom, guess what?” Nichelle said. “We’re engaged!”

“That is good news. Have you set a date?”

“No,” Kit replied. “We need to get established, first.”

“Kit wanted to call me his fiancee instead of his girlfriend,” Nichelle added.

“Yeah, and now she can call me her fiance. We knew it was going to happen -- we will be married some day -- so we decided to make it official.”

“Kit -- what will your folks think of this news?”

“My mom told me they’d be delighted to have Nichelle as a daughter-in-law.”

“Well -- I will be just as delighted to have you as my son-in-law. Congratulations, you two. I think it’s very smart of you to hold off, at least until you graduate. But -- you’re both very smart kids.”

“Thanks,” Kit and Nichelle said in unison.

“Have you told your mom yet, Kit?”

“No -- I’ll give her a call.”

“She’ll be over the moon, Kit. I know I am. How was your trip?”

“Wonderful,” Nichelle replied. “I love Kit’s family.”

“And, they love her,” Kit replied. “However, there was one incident in which I was afraid we would need your professional services.”

“How so?”

“There was a rogue Sheriff’s deputy who pulled us over,” Kit explained.

“Yes -- apparently he didn’t like the looks of a young, uppity black girl driving a fancy car,” Nichelle added. “He figured I needed to be shown my place.”

“He put Nichelle in the back of his squad and radioed for backup. She is convinced he intended to plant false evidence. Well, it turned out this deputy is someone I know, and he backed off as soon as he recognized me.”

“That’s right. I could have been sitting in a jail cell right now.”

“Nichelle’s comportment during the traffic stop was exemplary, Felicia. She did exactly what you told her to do, and it kept the situation from escalating.”

“I shouldn’t have turned over my bag,” Nichelle said. “I’m still angry with myself for doing that.”

“No, honey,” her mother said. “You did the right thing.”

“We learned this was not an isolated incident with this deputy,” Kit added. “Right now the guy is in custody facing multiple charges and the Sheriff is reviewing all the traffic stops he did. The D.A. is involved also. This one bad apple is going to cost the county a bundle, and this is a county without money to spare.”

“Isn’t that always the case?” Felicia asked.

“I’ll also say, I’m well aware of news reports about racial profiling. To see it so up close and personal was really frightening. I shudder to think what was going through Nichelle’s mind.”

Felicia sat beside her daughter and held her hand. “What was going through your mind, dear?”

Nichelle closed her eyes. “I was scared ... terrified ... it really shook my self-confidence ... I felt like a piece of shit ... sorry, Mom.”

“That was exactly what he was trying to do, Kit -- make her feel worthless. I’ve worked with cases like this. The impact on the victim isn’t unlike being raped.”

“The warm reception Kit’s folks gave me made me feel better. Later, the county sheriff personally apologized to me. That’s when I started getting over it. It would’ve been a different story if Kit’s dad hadn’t been friends with him.”

“Then, you were lucky to have had Kit in the car with you.”

“Right. That’s two you owe me, cousin.”

“Two?” Felicia asked. “What was the first one?”

Kit and Nichelle glanced at each other. Nichelle looked down at her feet. “Do you remember that incident at the frat party where someone drugged my drink and I had a bad reaction and ended up in the emergency room?”

“Yes...” her mother replied.

“Well -- the reaction was worse than I had let on. Much worse -- I almost died.”

“What?”

“I was being careless at the party -- I know, Mom, I shouldn’t have been, but I was. Kit thinks the guys there thought I was an easy mark and they topped up my beer behind my back to get me drunk. Then, someone slipped something into my glass. I started feeling woozy and stepped outside for some fresh air. That’s when Kit took care of me.”

“Kit -- were you at the same party?”

“No -- I just happened by.”

“Kit’s roommate called 911 and Kit performed mouth-to-mouth on me when I stopped breathing. When I came to in the hospital, they told me someone named Kit had without a doubt saved my life.”

Felicia stared at her daughter, slack-jawed. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“Think about it, Felicia,” Kit replied. “If you were Nichelle’s age and you survived something like this -- would you have volunteered it your mom?”

“Probably not.”

“The thing is, Mom -- I’m glad it happened -- because it smashed the wall.”

“The wall? What wall?”

“The invisible wall of color that keeps us apart. I met Kit when we were assigned as lab partners. At first, Kit didn’t want me as his partner. He admitted it was because of my color; that he came from a small town with no blacks and felt awkward interacting with me. And I remembered when we went to Great-Gramp’s funeral and I was the only black child there, and how awkward I felt...”

“I remember. You wanted to leave.”

“ ... so I empathized. Now I understand even more because I went shopping with Kit’s mom, and we went with his dad to find a Christmas tree. I never saw another black face the entire time I was up there. Anyway, Kit and I talked it through and we became friends. We became good friends. But the invisible wall was always there, forcing us to keep our distance.”

“I think I understand where you’re going with this,” Felicia remarked. “Go on.”

“We both felt the chemistry, but we were stopped by the invisible wall. Kit tried to break through it -- he tried to reach out to me. The Friday before the frat party, he asked me to go out with him. And, I refused him. Can you believe that, Mom? I refused him -- because of the invisible wall. And I went to the party with Roxanne, where someone drugged my drink.”

Tears began to stream down Nichelle’s cheeks. Kit handed her a facial tissue.

“Mom -- you know I don’t believe in divine providence the way you do. But someone, somehow made Kit my guardian angel that night. He found me on the ground near the frat house. He got me to his room where he could keep an eye on me. More and more the drug seized me, and my vitals weakened to the point at which I stopped breathing, and Kit gave me the kiss of life, Mom. While we were waiting for the paramedics, I couldn’t breathe, so he breathed for me.”