See a sneak peek at the cover and read an exclusive excerpt.
“The vanishingand the questions it raisedreverberated through that family in some profound ways for generations.
And I wondered: What would happen if the fate of a long-lost loved one was eventually revealed?”
But they risk losing it all when haunting hidden histories come to light.
“Trinity had a close and tender relationship with her father before he vanished.
Life and Other Love Songswill be out on April 4, 2023.
TRINITY
1982
“Well, look who it is!”
Pearl pulled me through the door and bear-hugged me in her all-encompassing way.
Then she held me out at arm’s length, like she hadn’t seen me in years.
“Wait, what’re you doing here?”
She waved the question away and looped her arm through mine.
“Don’t matter.
It’s good to see you.
And look like you got here right on time to be of some use.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll see.”
I let her guide me down the hall.
She stopped at the entrance to the living room.
She called out to her boyfriend.
Mr. Burton was sitting in his leather easy chair, the only piece of modern furniture in the room.
The rest of the space was filled with fussy pieces from a more formal era, preserved under plastic.
Pearl saw herself as a modern woman.
And she acted like one too.
She was the furthest thing from grandmotherly one could imagine.
I didn’t even call her Grandma, Gran or any derivative of grandmother.
She’d always insisted on being called by her first name, Pearl.
“Look who’s here!”
Pearl said to Mr. Burton.
He looked up from his transistor radio, which he was always either listening to or tinkering with.
“Hi, Mr. Burton,” I said, waving from the doorway.
“It’s good to see you, Dear.”
He smiled, and his eyes crinkled behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
He was the exact opposite of Pearl: Old, slow, stoic.
He pointed to the single white earphone in his ear.
“Trying to catch a game.
You wanna listen?”
“Next time,” I said, going over to kiss his cheek.
“All right, then.”
Mr. Burton patted my hand.
“Have fun with my Pearl.”
I followed Pearl down the hall.
“You want some dinner?
Made pork chops and we got a couple left over in there.”
She pointed off vaguely in the direction of the kitchen.
“How’s your mama?”
Pearl asked, glancing at me over her shoulder.
“What’s she up to?”
“I don’t know.”
Pearl threw me a look over her shoulder.
At the end of the hall, she opened the door to the office and waved me in.
“She know where you at tonight?”
“I’m sure she’ll guess.”
Even though her house was right across the street frommyhouse, I didn’t go home.
I made the half-hour drive into Detroit to Pearl’s house instead.
Home wasn’t where I wanted to be right now.
Not on the anniversary.
My mother would be there.
Probably acting upbeat, as if nothing at all was wrong.
Probably her second or third glass.
“You might wanna call her while you here,” Pearl said.
“Let her know.”
It was a lot.
Pearl had kept it going after we’d moved.
She would revive it, come spring, like a memorial.
It was how I became an overly articulate student who rarely spoke in class.
Pearl handed over the piece of paper she’d pulled from the typewriter.
“I been working on this letter,” she said.
I scanned the paper.
It was a letter to Mayor Young.
“And some strong language, Pearl.”
“Nothing he ain’t heardor saidbefore.”
She raised her chin in defiance.
She was devoted to the city of Detroit and had made it her mission to help save it.
She was printed twice.
Both letters included blistering attacks on Coleman Young.
There was also a picture of my father and Tommy when they were boys.
The only one that had survived their house going up in flames, she’d told me.
“So, you gon' wordsmith it for me?”
I sighed and handed the letter and the pen back to her.
I’m pretty wiped.”
She took off her glasses and let them dangle around her neck on their lanyard.
Another old lady thing I turned a blind eye to.
She crossed her arms and said quietly, “I know.
I miss your daddy, too.”
“He’ll come back,” I said.
“Or we’ll find him.”
I paused for a second, considering whether to say what I couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
Close by, for when he’s back."
“And what’s that mean?”
“Just…I’ve been thinking about school.
Where to go.”
She nodded slowly, still looking at me that way.
Wouldn’t someplace like Berkeley be cool?"
I feel like I should be close.
Pearl got up and came over to sit next to me on the couch.
She tapped me on the forehead.
God gave you this brain and that good schooling so you’d have choices.
I didn’t have many choices.
I spent most of my life making do with what came at me.
“No,” I said.
“What were your choices?
What came at you?”
She blinked, then shook her head.
“That don’t matter.
If you wanna go to the moon to go to school, you do that.
If you just wanna go up here to Wayne State, then do that.
But choose to do what you wanna do, okay?”
She held my gaze until I nodded.
Me and your mama, we’ll worry about your daddy.
And you know if we get him back, he’ll find you wherever you are.
Because he loves you."
I nodded again, but I was still unsure.
Grandmotherly or not, Pearl was the most comfort in the world.
She pointed across the room to that picture of my father and Tommy.
They were standing in a dirt field with a shack that appeared near collapse off behind them.
My father had on short pants.
Tommy had on long ones.
I knew the story, but I let her tell it again.
“Oh, I guess your daddy must’ve been around eleven here, so Thomas was about nine.
They were good boys.”
She rocked me a little slower now and her hand tightened around my shoulder.
“They were good.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“We’re both just missing him right now.
That’s all.”
She smiled and kissed my forehead.
“That’s just so, Ms. Trinity.
That’s just so.”
She looked over at the picture again.
“But I don’t want you missing him so much you miss your chance at life.”
She gave my shoulder a squeeze.
Enough of that."
She stood and walked toward the door.
“Come on.”
“Oh, God.
Not that,” I said, wiping at tears.
It’ll be good for both of us.
Get this sadness worked out a little.
And your competitive juices flowing for them college applications."
“I either get in or I don’t, Pearl.
It’s not a blood sport.”
I followed her down the dark, narrow stairs to her basement.
She went over and pulled the string on the naked lightbulb.
There waiting for us was a torture equipment.
Her ping pong table.
She threw me a paddle.
“All right little girl, best two out of three.”
It was no contest.
She was always merciless and given to trash talking as she destroyed me.
But when it was over, she was good about not rubbing it in.
With Pearl, when a thing was done, it was done.
“You gotta know how to keep keeping on,” she’d say.
“Always eyes forward.”
