With both Meechie and Tonya concentrating on their food, it was like me and Mama were the only people at the table. I caught her eyes more than once, and since I kept thinking about whether we were Lease Compliant, and how Mama could just tell me so I wouldn’t have to worry, I’m sure I sent some snotty looks her way.

She finally said, “Felicia, we’re not going to talk about it.”

Before she even finished her sentence, I rolled my eyes. Mama put her fork down with so much force that both Meechie and Tonya jumped. Her body leaned forward in my direction with her head tilted, as if to ask me if I’d lost my little mind. Meechie and Tonya looked at me. It was my move. I backed down.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

I was calm when I told her, “We don’t have to talk about it.” Meechie looked at me with a confused smile, then at Mama with the same face, and shook his head a little. Then he dismissed us entirely and went back to his food. He’d started treating me and Mama like we annoyed him, making these faces with a hint of disgust, like we were children, and he was such an adult who had risen well above the pettiness that women and girls got into. He wouldn’t even go downtown with us anymore, deciding instead to stay home, alone. It had hurt my feelings, this intentional distance. I could feel him growing up and away. At least, that’s what I thought was happening. Years later, I’d learn that he had been dealing with violent attacks from the gang in an attempt to get him to join them, and that going downtown to see Chicago landmarks was the last thing on his mind.

Mama picked up her fork and moved on, but I didn’t leave the moment. I sat there, thinking about all the ways that I could find my own answers to the things that my family wouldn’t tell me. The easiest way? Stacia. She sat on a hill of knowledge about everything Mama tried to keep from me. I would get all the information I wanted, but it wouldn’t stop there; that summer, I’d pull back the curtain and see all the grime hiding in our neighborhood, and I would be sorry that I ever went looking for it.

Right after dinner, Mama told Tonya that it was time for me to get ready for bed. She asked her, “Where do you live?”

“On the ten.”

“Say the tenth floor,” Mama said.