"Are you sure they can run that place without you?" Nickida asked.

"Joseph's been helping me run Oasis for more than twenty years, Nicki. Plus, the kids like going to that place we call a hair salon."

"Well, if they just have to get their hair braided, could you make sure they don't mix that synthetic hair with theirs?"

Gloria was trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes at this child, but she simply blinked and said, "I wouldn't dream of it, especially without asking you first, Nicki, you know that."

"I was just . . ."

"Gawa!" Blaze yelled. "Come see!"

Gloria turned the corner, and there in the middle of the dining room table were two more clay masterpieces, the colors and shapes unrecognizable, but Gloria mustered up her sense of delight and surprise by saying, "They are just beautiful! Thank you so much for making these for us!"

"Wanna know what mine is?" Stone asked, pointing at the ugliest of the two, which looked like a grayish brown coffin with a lid that didn't quite fit. "Guess, Gawa, guess!"

"A lot of things come to mind."

"Okay. It's a thing for butter."

"Oh," Gloria said. "I was thinking that might be what it was. I just wasn't sure. I like it. I hope the butter fits."

"Just break the butter in half if you have to. I won't mind."

"Do you like mine, too, Gawa?"

"I do indeed. Isn't yours a saucer?" Gloria asked, praying she was right.

"It's a cat dish," Blaze said proudly. "For your cat."

"But I don't have a cat."

"It's for when you get one." She had a look on her face that said, "I'm way ahead of you."

"Who knows, maybe one day we will, but I think Pops is allergic to cats."

"Then get a kitten."

"We will give that some thought. But thank you both so much for our lovely gifts."

"Okay, kids, give Gawa a hug, because we need to get going," Nickida said.

"What time is it?" Gloria asked.

"Almost eleven-thirty."

"Marvin should be here in a minute."

"Well, if we miss him, we also wanted you guys to have this," she said and handed Gloria a small gift bag from Blockbuster.

"What on earth . . ." Gloria said, and peeked inside the bag. She could see it was a CD or a DVD.

"You can go on and look at it, Ma. We thought you guys might want to consider not getting on the Titanic tonight and instead consider watching Casablanca, Casablanca, which is not three hours long." which is not three hours long."

"Why, thank you for being so thoughtful."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll answer it," Stone said and started heading toward the door.

"Hold it right there, mister. What have I told you about answering the door? First of all, this is Gawa and Pops's house, and if anybody answers the door, it should be her or him. Now just cool your heels."

It rang again.

"You want me to get it for you, Ma?"

"Sure, go ahead. I hope it's more flowers!"

"Come on, kids, let's get everybody strapped in. We'll wait for you in the car, Tarik. Happy anniversary again, Mom." Nickida gave Gloria a quick peck and squeezed her hands, something she rarely did.

"I have to peepee," Blaze said. Little Diamond crossed her hands down there to indicate that she had to go, too.

"I didn't have to go, but now I think I do," Stone said and ran to beat them to the bathroom.

"Use the one in our room," Gloria said, and off they went.

Tarik not only didn't put the top back on the Crock-Pot but had dripped gravy all over the counter. Some things just don't change. After Gloria wiped it up, she went to get four eggs out of the carton to start the cornbread and her foot slipped on a few drops of gravy she hadn't noticed. All eighteen eggs hit the floor. Gloria just shook her head, grabbed a handful of paper towels and got down on her knees to clean them up. Tarik could sign for the flowers.

When her son opened the door, instead of another floral delivery, there were two uniformed police officers standing there to greet him. They were surprised to see him. "Hey, Tarik, what are you doing here?" the younger of the two officers asked him.

"My mother and stepfather live here. What's going on, guys? I know this isn't a social visit."

"Can you step outside for a minute, man?"

"Yeah," Tarik said. He was suspicious because he knew this wasn't going to be pleasant. Police officers don't ring your doorbell unless it's bad news.

"Is your mother at home?"

"She's in the kitchen. Talk to me, fellas."

"Slow down a second. Anybody else here with you?"

"My wife and kids. What's going on?"

"Look, you're an officer of the law, Tarik, and we're going to need your assistance in this."

"Has something happened to Marvin? Does that have anything to do with why you're here?"

They gave him an affirmative look.

"Marvin King, your stepfather, was killed about an hour ago in a drive-by."

"What?" Tarik asked, backing away from his colleagues as if the space would make room for the truth. But he knew this was the truth.

"We're really sorry, man. Right now we need you to bring out that law-enforcement soul. Do you hear me?"

Tarik wiped his eyes and stood erect. He'd been drilled on exactly how to deal with death without breaking down, without taking it personally. But Marvin was the only father he'd ever really known. "I hear you," Tarik said. "It's their anniversary."

"Oh, wow, man. We're really sorry."

"This is going to destroy my mother."

"It's probably better if a family member tells her."

He was the only family member she had. It fell to him, then, to tell her. Right then, Tarik's heart didn't have a badge on it. From inside the house he could hear the kids running down the hallway. He knew they were heading straight toward the front door. "Nicki! Get the kids! And don't let them come outside!"

She appeared inside the open doorway. "What's going on? I need to get them to their parties, and we're going to be late as it is. Hi, Doug. Hey, Jose."

Both officers tipped their hats and nodded hello to her. She wondered what they were doing here. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn't good.

"Go talk to your wife," the older of the two officers said. "And ask her to get the kids out of here or take them to a back bedroom."

"Give us a minute, Nicki. And please, just go back in the house and stay with Ma for a few minutes. I'll be right in."

"Is everything all-"

"Please, just do it! Okay?"

"Okay."

"So, exactly what happened, guys?"

"The only information we have is that your stepdad was an innocent bystander. Right there in front of Clarkson's Nursery. There were twenty-eight rounds exchanged between gangbangers and six stray rounds struck your stepdad. Three in the head, three in the chest. He went down at the scene, man."

"Do you have anybody in custody?"

"Not yet. When we got to the scene, they were of course already gone. You know how they do this shit, man. And we're really sorry to have to be here. Several eyewitnesses have been interviewed by Homicide and they're still over there. Some are just in shock."

"Do you have any idea which gangs they were?"

"That's not known to us right now, Tarik, but we're pretty sure it'll be easy for us to ascertain. You know we've been having problems in that area and a couple of these groups are at war."

"Aren't they always," Tarik said, nodding his head slowly. He, of course, knew all of this already. "Where is Marvin?"

"Right now he's on the way to the coroner's office."

"He's on his way to the coroner's office," Tarik repeated.

The younger officer wanted to reach out to squeeze Tarik's arm or something, but knew this wouldn't help his blue brother, at least not right now. Plus, this wasn't in the codebook. "We'll just wait out here until after you tell her."

"Tarik," Gloria said. She was standing in the doorway and eyeing the officers suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"

Tarik opened his eyes as wide as possible, hoping the air would ventilate them and evaporate the moisture and redness. He wasn't sure if it worked. All he knew was that he needed to be strong right now. As he turned to look at his mother, he saw her take in sips of air and a look of terror was filling up her eyes.

She already knew.

Love Don't Live Here Anymore

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you," I say to Isaac as soon as he walks in the door. I'm sitting on the love seat in the Great Room. Two cold crab cakes sit on a paper plate on the cocktail table. The salad is wilted, the French fries hard. I thought I could eat.

"How about, 'Welcome home, Isaac'?"

"Welcome back, Isaac. I meant what I just said."

"What in the world are you talking about?" He sits down on a stool at the counter. His legs are long. They're crossed at the ankle. The lace on one of his running shoes is undone. I'm tempted to tell him, but then that would mean I'm creating some kind of intimacy, which is the last thing I want to do. I need to keep my distance because of course you don't stop loving someone on a dime just because they do something you might find unforgivable. I want to hate him, so I have to keep the focus on how pissed off I am more than on how much I am hurt. Falling apart would give him just the room he needs to touch me. Not this time, buddy.

"What if I walked in here and said, 'Savannah, I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you,' how would you feel about that?"

This gives me a jolt. "Is that how you feel, Isaac?"

"Look, can I just get a glass of water and take a hot shower before you read me the riot act and tell me what I've done this time that's so deplorable? I'm beat, Savannah."

"Take your time." He doesn't look the least bit tired. In fact, he looks quite rested. There's something different about him. He's wearing the same look on his face that I've seen right after we've had great sex. I'm surprised I can still remember. I'm not going to think about this because I almost don't care. He did something in Vegas besides touch wood. That much I do know.

When he pushes himself up to a standing position and takes a step, he almost trips over the shoestring. I feel bad but not that bad. "I see you got a new laptop."

"That I did." It's on the kitchen table.

"You like it?" he asks.

"They're all the same when you get right down to it."

"Were you able to recover all your stuff?"

"Pretty much. You might want to look at yours after you get out of the shower."

"Why, did you try to use it?"

"I did, but I had the same problem you had."

"Really," he says, rather suspiciously.

"Really."

I can see he's tempted to go into his office but he's afraid to open that door. I think he knows I know what he's been doing in his so-called office. "Why don't you go on and take your shower."