were backup when we performed.”
“It’s not my fault that Priscilla put me front and center.”
“No, but it is your fault we broke up.”
Camille challenged, “How can you say that?”
“Because you made the decision to betray your brother and Tonya.”
“Betray is a very strong word, Kyra. Besides, Darrion was a free agent.”
“Oh my God, you’re still in denial,” Kyra accused. “Everybody knew Tonya had a thing for Darrion. He was pretty much her man.”
Hearing Kyra voice Darrion’s name suddenly jogged Camille’s memory. She’d almost forgotten about all those piddly details. Or maybe she’d blocked them out. Kyra hadn’t purged her files.
“That was a long time ago, Kyra. We’ve all grown and matured. I was hoping we could get past our differences and make a run for it again,” Camille said calmly, deeply, the way she imagined Maya Angelou spoke. Who could deny a seasoned black woman’s wisdom?
“You’re right,” Kyra agreed. “We should all be more mature now than we were then. Let the past stay there. Move on with your life, Camille. Sweet Treats is over.”
I’m losing her! “It doesn’t have to be, Kyra. We can do it again. Look at Tony! Toni! Toné! They’re still together. I just saw them on BET the other night.”
“I’m sure they still actually like each other because they’ve never messed one another over,” Kyra summed. “Let Sweet Treats go, Camille; the rest of us have.”
Camille sucked in her breath. “You all keep in touch?”
“Yes. Alexis and Tonya are still close. I talk to them from time to time. Alexis is teaching in St. Louis. Tonya’s back home in Houston, but she travels all over the country singing backup for Liza Sticcoli. We’re all happy, busy doing things we enjoy.”
Resentment flattened the smile Camille had been holding in place to enhance her pitch. So much for closing this deal. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t ask you, Kyra.”
“No sleep lost here. More power to you, but don’t call me anymore.”
Camille held on to the phone for a second, hoping Kyra would say, “Psyche!” She used to pull that lame attempt at sarcasm so often, Camille had a pink and black T-shirt made for Kyra with the word applied across the chest.
No joke this time, though. T-Mobile brought the conversation to an official end with a soft beep in Camille’s ear. She couldn’t allow herself to process Kyra’s less than desirable response. The rejection rolled off Camille’s back like water on a duck. If there was one good thing she’d learned as a telemarketer, it was how to get over people’s negative reactions.
On to the next one. “Hi, Alexis. It’s me. Camille. From Sweet Treats.”
“Hey, Camille,” Alexis nearly sang. “How are you?” Alexis’s uniquely raspy speech always sounded like she needed to cough a few times. At their first rehearsal, Camille had been shocked by the strong alto hiding under the wobbly speaking voice.
So far so good. “Great! How are you?”
“I’m fine. So good to hear from you. What have you been up to?”
“Girl, just working, tryin’ to make it. You?”
“I’m good. Wow! I haven’t heard from you in ages. Wait ’til I tell Tonya I talked to you!”
Camille ventured, “How is Tonya?”
“She’s great,” Alexis caroled. “She just bought a house in Cedar Hill out by some kind of lake.”
“Tonya lives near Dallas?”
“Yeah,” Alexis crooned. “I thought you knew.”
“It’s a small world.”
“So, what’s up?” Alexis asked. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s fine.”
“Your brother?”
“He’s fine, too,” Camille guessed.
Then she took a deep breath, her pulse racing. “Okay. Brace yourself. I was thinking—”
“Wait a second,” Alexis interrupted. “Ooh, that’s Kyra on the other line. Lord, I wonder if lightning is about to strike. Hold on just—”
“No, Alexis let me explain—”
“Just let me tell her that I’ll call her back.”
Alexis forced Camille to hold, and the longer Alexis stayed on the other line, the more anxious Camille became. This new, improved Kyra was also quick on the draw.
Finally, Alexis returned. “So, you want to get Sweet Treats back together?”
Darn that Kyra. “Yes.”
“No can do, my sister.”
“Come on, Alexis. Don’t let Kyra make this decision for you. Give me one good reason why you can’t do this with me.”
Alexis replied, “I can give you three. First of all, I’m a teacher. I work at least sixty hours a week as it stands.”
“If we get back with the right producers, you won’t have to teach anymore,” Camille countered. “Plus, I know teachers don’t make any money. You’re probably just as broke as me, and I don’t even have a college degree.”
“I don’t know about the money part, but you’re missing my point. I love teaching, and I’m dedicated to my students. I don’t want to change my career, thank you very much.”
“Must be nice to actually like what you do,” Camille pouted. “But, hey, I know you’ve got the summers off, Alexis.”
“Summers off? Please. School gets out the first week of June, I have staff development for, like, three weeks, and then we’re back in mid-August. I’m lucky to have July off, which is not nearly enough time to pull a band together and pop up in the studio. Do you know how much we’d have to practice to pull this together? I’m nowhere near you and Tonya.”
Camille interjected, “Ever heard of Southwest Airlines?”
“And the last thing is, my parents aren’t in the best of health. I can’t go anywhere until they get stable or whatever . . . well, you know,” her voice tapered.
“I’m sorry, Alexis. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have bothered your parents for your number if I’d known.”
“It’s okay. They can talk. They’re just getting older. We have to watch Daddy’s diabetes,” she explained. “My mom used to keep an eye on him, but now she’s got her own blood-pressure issues, too. I swear, their bathroom is a pharmacy.”
Camille
