“I did, Mama,” Charlotte blurt right out. “And you right. She’s been getting all A’s and B’s since I took her off that mess, and even her teachers notice how much more alert she is.” And then it’s like she catch herself or something, and she say, “Sorry, y’all. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Way to go, Monique,” Paris says.

“Right on,” Janelle says.

“All our kids is smart, if y’all ain’t noticed,” Lewis say to the fire, and then throw another log in it.

“Okay. Quiet, please! We’re only on the first letter. May I continue?” But Paris don’t wait for no answer.

“. . . doing nothing but messing up her young brain. Please make them read books and not just magazines. Take them to the library and make them stay out that damn mirror so much. They can’t get no prettier. And pretty ain’t enough no more. Make sure they know that. And please try a little harder to accept the fact that your son is gay and don’t make him feel bad about it. We all have to learn to accept people for who they are and not who we want them to be, Charlotte. Just think about what other people might be feeling before you criticize them, and forgive them when they make mistakes. Because everybody do. Including you. So forgive your husband. Forgive everybody that don’t do exactly what you think they should do when you think they should be doing it. Ain’t nobody perfect. And, Charlotte, learn how to be happy. And then get used to it. I don’t care if you work at the post office for the rest of your life. Be proud of yourself for doing something constructive. The only person you need to impress and compete with is Charlotte. I been impressed. Kiss my grandkids for me, and try using a speaker phone so you won’t be able to hang up in nobody’s face no more! (smile) I’m gon’ miss you, Miss Black America, cause that’s what me and Paris used to call you when you was little. We always knew you had what it took. Why you think Paris used to love combing your hair? Telling you how to act. And who you think was showing her? Even when you was a baby and fell off the kitchen counter, who you think it was that ran to pick you up and rubbed cocoa butter on your scar which is why you ain’t got one on your forehead to this day? We had dreams of you being on TV, wearing a crown, cause Paris always said she wished she was as pretty as you, and she wasn’t jealous, she was just proud to be your sister. I love you, and don’t forget it. Now put that in your pipe and smoke it!

“Love,

“Your Mother

“(P.S. If you ever hit that damn lottery please give my share to your daddy. He could probably use it. A few dollars to your brother would be nice, but only if he ain’t drinking.)”