Brenda lifted a hand to her husband as she rubbed Lisa’s shoulder. “We’re listening, dear.”

  “Yes, there is something else she needs to tell us,” David said with his arms folded, “I need to know why she was even at her friend’s house when she was supposed to be at the store.”

  Lisa stomped her foot in frustration. Her daddy attended church every week, like she and her mother did, but he must have been in the hallway when the pastor gave sermons on forgiveness and having grace for others. He didn’t seem to have any for her.

  Lisa was so distressed from the events of the day she couldn’t bear the lecture that was sure to come from her dad if he found out her purse had been stolen, so she said, “You’re right, Dad. I should have been at the store. I’m going to change my clothes and go down there now.”

  Wiping the rest of the tears from her face, Lisa turned to go upstairs. Her mother stopped her. “What else is on your mind? You know you can tell us anything.”

  She could tell her mom anything. Brenda Whitaker was a kind woman, full of grace, but her daddy was hard and unrelenting. She didn’t want to hear more judgment from him about the decisions she’d made when all she had done was hang out with a friend who was going through a really tough time.

  Lisa went upstairs to her room and changed into a pair of tan pants and a white-collar shirt and then left the house. She thought about the purse situation as she walked to the corner store. Her mother would know all she needed to do to get her identification before she left for school, but Lisa would have to figure it out herself. There was no way she was going to take another lecture from her father.

  She was about to be on her own. She wished she had applied to a college in upstate New York, then she would be farther away from her parents and wouldn’t be expected to come home on weekends.

  Lisa prayed for Vida as she walked. She felt bad for Dana. She saw how distraught she had been when she got in the ambulance with her mother. But Lisa’s mind was also on her purse.

  So distracted by the events of the day, Lisa was almost at the front door of her father’s store before she noticed the artist who painted the faces of people on the In Loving Memory mural.

  The artist was climbing the ladder with his paintbrush and paint supplies. Curiosity got the better of Lisa. She hadn’t heard about anyone dying in the neighborhood lately. Her forehead crinkled as she turned toward the ladder. She put her hand over her eyebrows to get the sun out of her eyesight as she looked up.

  “I didn’t hear about anyone dying.”

  The painter looked down at her and gave her a wry smile. “The local news don’t care about a wino’s liver giving out on him, but we do.”

  “What wino?” As Lisa waited for an answer, she thought about the three winos who normally sat on milk crates outside the store. She glanced around but didn’t see any of them sitting out, drinking wine from a brown paper bag while talking all kinds of smack.

  “Mr. Taylor. Cirrhosis took him out last night. I got the call this morning.” The artist continued up the ladder.

  Lisa went into the store, all the while thinking about Mr. Taylor. He might have been drunk half his life, but he always had a kind word for her when she saw him on the street. At that moment, she wondered why she hadn’t spent more time praying for him.

  “You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  Lisa looked to her right and saw Terri Milner. She worked part-time for her dad and was stocking chips on the shelf. “I saw the artist who paints the faces on the In Loving Memory wall. He said Mr. Taylor died.”

  Terri’s hand went to her mouth. She blew out air. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Mr. Taylor was a nice man.”

  A customer entered the store. Lisa stood behind the counter while Terri continued shelving the chips. After about a minute, the customer put a 100 Grand bar, a bag of barbecue Bon Tons, and a can of soda on the counter. She rang him up, then bagged his items and handed them to him.

  Terri walked over to the counter with the empty box. “It’s been a slow day, so I was able to refill the shelves.”

  Glancing out the store window, Lisa saw people going here and there, into the corner store across the street that had a meat department with a butcher on staff, but very few were coming into their store. She told Terri, “If you want to leave early, I can close up. Dad will be down shortly anyway. We’re going to do inventory this evening.”

  Terri glanced at her watch. “Are you sure you don’t mind being here by yourself?”

  Lisa pointed at the cameras on the wall by the front door. “My dad has this place filled with so many cameras, I seriously doubt I’ll have any problems.”

  “Let me go home and check on my kids, then I’ll come back to help you and Mr. Whitaker with inventory.”

  Lisa blurted, “One day I’m going to get a community center started. It will have after-school and summer programs for the kids in this neighborhood. Then you won’t have to leave them babies by themselves while you work.”

  Terri patted Lisa on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “I’ll be the first one to sign up. Just make sure it’s affordable.”

  “It’s going to be free. I promise you,” Lisa told her. Terri was one of her dad’s best workers. Her husband was in the military, so she was often left to take care of their three children on her own. There was never enough money for babysitters, so her children were frequently left at home while she worked. She lived in an apartment a block up from the store, so she was able to check on them during each break.

  After college, Lisa wanted to work in social services. She prayed she would be able to solve the day-care dilemma for so many of the women in their community. It was a travesty. Women had to work to take care of their families but couldn’t afford proper care for their children while they worked.

  A few more customers came in; Lisa cashed them out as they grabbed chips and soda. One of the customers wanted a hero sandwich with turkey and ham. Her dad had taught her how to fix those sandwiches. She made it and cashed the customer out as Dana walked into the store.

  Lisa waved at her when she finished up with her customer. “How’s your mother?” It had been about three hours since Dana’s mother was taken to the hospital.

  “She’s doing better, but they’re going to keep her overnight at St. John’s.”

  “You mean Interfaith Medical Center?” Lisa corrected.

  Dana gave her a raised eyebrow.

  “The hospital,” Lisa said. “It’s no longer St. John’s. Interfaith took it over a couple of years ago.”

  Many of the Bed-Stuy residents still referred to the hospital as St. John’s. The hospital had been a staple in the neighborhood. At one time, it had been the largest employer in Central Brooklyn. But as the white, affluent residents fled the area as Black and brown residents moved in, St. John’s began to struggle, with so many of the new residents relying on Medicare and Medicaid. Government insurance paid less than private health insurance companies. So Interfaith was able to take over the hospital.

  This government-sponsored-insurance-versus-private-health-insurance issue had come up in her political science class during her senior year in high school. Lisa didn’t think it was right for hospitals and doctors to overcharge private insurers and then be in dire straits when forced to accept government-backed insurance. This was one reason lower-income families didn’t always receive the best care available. Doctors would take only a limited number of patients with government insurance. Another thing that needed to be changed.

  Dana tapped her forehead with her index finger. “I keep forgetting the name of the hospital changed. Anyway . . .” She then lifted Lisa’s purse and handed it to her. “I stopped in to bring you this.”

  Lisa’s eyes got big. “Oh my goodness. Where did you find it?” Lisa unzipped her purse and pulled out her billfold. Her state ID and her Social Security card were there, but no money. She turned back to Dana. “I had twenty dollars in my wallet.”

  Dana shrugged. “Jasmine must’ve taken it. I went by her house after I left the hospital. I figured she took our stuff, and sure enough, she had your purse and my camera.” Dana’s mouth curved upward to the right as she added, “Talking ’bout how she grabbed our stuff so it wouldn’t get stolen.”

  “Then why’d she steal my money?” The whole ordeal was stupefying to Lisa. Why did people put their hands on things that didn’t belong to them?

  “Because Jasmine steals. I’ve seen her in action. That’s why Derrick and I went to her house after we left the hospital.”

  “What am I supposed to do about my money? Sheesh, the people you hang around are wack.”

  “Well, dang, you’d think you would say thank you or something.” Dana rolled her eyes.

  Lisa wasn’t really mad at Dana, but she was upset about the choices Dana made. “I wish you wouldn’t hang around those people.”

  “Neither of you should be hanging around with people who steal from you.”

  Lisa’s and Dana’s heads swiveled toward the door, where Lisa’s father was standing with a scowl.

  Dana waved. “Hi, Mr. Whitaker.”

  He nodded. “How is your mother?”

  “Pray for her, please,” Dana said woefully. She turned back to Lisa. “I’ll see you later.” She left the store.

  Lisa put her purse under the counter and did her best not to look her father in the eye. “You ready to do the inventory?”

  He loomed over her. “Right after you tell me what’s going on with you.”

  Chapter 8

  Vida came home from the hospital Monday afternoon. Dana was sitting in the living room holding the vacate order issued by the police this morning. She handed it to her mother. “What are we going to do? The police are going to throw our stuff on the street if we don’t pack up and get out of here in three days.”

  “Well, hello to you too,” Vida said as she took the notice out of Dana’s hand.

  Her mother stumbled backward as she raised the notice to her face.

  Dana put her hands to her head and pulled her hair. “How could you do this to us again? We were doing fine before you decided to smoke crack and ruin our lives.”

  Lowering the notice, Vida sat down next to Dana. She put a hand on Dana’s cheek as a tear trickled down her face. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I need to do better.”

  Dana let go of her hair but started pacing the floor while rubbing her temples with her index fingers. When she was young, her mother would put her arms around her and pull her into a hug. Back then, after a hug from her mom, Dana knew her day was about to be special. But as Vida put those skin-to-the-bone arms around Dana today, it didn’t bring her comfort. “Where are we going to live now, Ma?”

  Vida wiped her face. “I’ll go down to the county and see if they can help us. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.”

  But Dana was worried. She was still waiting on callbacks from some of the applications she put in.

  She went outside and sat down on the stoop. This was supposed to be a good summer. She had just graduated high school. Dana didn’t have money or any scholarships to go to college, but she still thought she would figure out some things and get her life on track. She did have a high school diploma, and that had to count for something.

  Where were they going to live once they left this apartment? Dana’s elbow was on her knee. She lowered her head and put her hand under her chin as she watched people walk by.

  Why did she have to live with a mother who couldn’t take care of herself, let alone a child? But then again, Dana wasn’t a child anymore. She was eighteen and needed to make some moves.

  As she was full of thoughts and wonder, Derrick came up the street and sat down next to her. “How’s your mom?”

  Rolling her eyes, Dana told him, “She’s back home, but now we’re getting evicted.”

  “Word?” He shook his head. “Yo, Dana, don’t sweat it. After we do this job tonight, there will be plenty of money to pay rent.”

  Job? Dana scratched her head. Then she remembered. Derrick expected her to help him rob a store tonight. “Look, Derrick, I’m not like you and Jasmine. I’m not comfortable with taking things that don’t belong to me.”

  Derrick leaned his head back and laughed like he’d never heard anything so funny. “It’s called stealing. I told you how I earn my living. You can’t get all squeamish on me now.”

  “It’s not my thing.”

  “You need the money, babe. This is for you too. And anyway, you don’t have to go inside the place. I need you to be outside and signal me if you see anyone coming.”

  Derrick was looking at her with those gorgeous brown eyes. He put a hand on her arm. His hand felt good . . . warm. Maybe Derrick had the right idea. Nobody was giving her anything in this world. She needed to get out there and start taking things.

  “I want to help you, babe, but you gotta help me too.” His hand moved in circular motions on her arm, then he leaned in and kissed her like a man who was hungry for everything she had to give.

  “You know how it is around here.”

  Yeah, she knew. It was Bed-Stuy, do or die. But was she ready to do what he was asking?

  “You in?”

  She loved being with Derrick like this. She loved how he wanted to help her out of the jam her mother had gotten them into. And she did need the money. “I don’t have to go in the store, right?”

  “No, babe. I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.”

  * * *

  What was she doing? Why had she agreed to be Derrick’s lookout? Dana didn’t want to be a part of any theft, but when she was around Derrick, he made her feel loved. She felt special in his presence, felt seen. No man had ever looked at her the way Derrick did. With things falling apart for her, she needed Derrick.

  A car pulled up as Dana sat on the stoop waiting on Derrick. It was a gray Chevy Caprice with tinted windows. The passenger-side door opened, and Derrick stepped out. He was wearing a black hoodie with black jeans and a pair of black-and-white Nikes.

  He smiled at her, and she melted.

  “You ready?”

  A moment’s hesitation, then Dana pushed herself up from the stoop. He opened the back passenger door for her. Dana climbed in, but as Derrick closed the door, she glanced toward the driver’s seat and saw Jasmine behind the wheel. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m getting my cut, that’s what I’m doing,” Jasmine told her.

  “Whose car are you driving?”

  Jasmine giggled. “My uncle took a nap, and I snatched his keys. He’ll be out for a while, so we don’t have to hurry.”

  Dana had been friends with Jasmine for only a couple of years. Honestly, she didn’t know the girl stole so much. But she was starting to understand why so many things came up missing in some of the classes they had together.

  Lisa had told Dana she hung out with the wrong people. Since she had signed on to be the lookout for a robbery with these two professional thieves, she could no longer deny the truth of Lisa’s words.

  Jasmine nudged her head to the right, then told Derrick, “Look in the glove compartment.”

  He popped open the glove compartment. “Oh snap.”

  Dana heard the excitement in Derrick’s voice as he lifted a gun with his right hand, then high-fived Jasmine with the left. “I knew you could score. Girl, you got skills.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Jasmine pulled onto the street. “We getting ready to get paid.”

  Everything in Dana screamed Noooo! Warning signs flashed before her eyes as sweat beads gathered on her forehead. “Let me out,” Dana demanded. She was done with Jasmine when she stole her camera and Lisa’s purse. Now she was stealing cars and bringing guns. This wasn’t Dana’s speed.

  Derrick turned around in his seat and looked at Dana like she was a child who needed to be scolded. “Don’t get scared on me now. You know what’s up.”

  “I’m not getting scared. But you never said anything about a gun.”

  “Ain’t nobody gon’ get hurt. Chill with that,” he told her and then turned back around in his seat.

  Dana kicked the seat.

  “Quit tripping, Dana, and don’t tear up my uncle’s car.”

  “Forget you, Jasmine. I don’t have anything else to say to you. Matter of fact, y’all can let me out right here.” Dana grabbed hold of the door handle.

  Jasmine pulled the car in front of the pizza parlor Derrick took Dana to last week. Derrick turned back to Dana. “Babe, look . . . me and Jasmine are going to hit this spot.” He pointed toward the pizza parlor. “I need you to calm down and sit in this car with the window rolled down. If you see any cops or anything that looks suspicious, then holler as loud as you can, “Time’s up!”

  “Why do you have a gun, Derrick? You never said anything about shooting nobody.” Dana was scared. What had she gotten herself into? Derrick was a stick-up kid, and Jasmine was cut from the same cloth. But she didn’t want to steal. And she certainly didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  “You need rent money, don’t you? You better get it together so we can make this money,” Derrick said.

  “It’s a pizza shop. They don’t have enough money to make any difference.”

  He pulled a napkin out of his pocket. “They have a safe in the back, and I have the combination.” He waved the napkin in her face.

  Dana thought back to the day Derrick brought her here to get a slice of pizza. She thought he was being good to her. But she remembered when the busboy handed him those napkins and Derrick put one in his pocket.

  Now she wondered whether Derrick had taken her out. Had he truly wanted to be with her or was she just a decoy for his scouting trip.

  Jasmine opened the driver’s side door. “Are we going or not?”

  Derrick leaned toward Dana. He planted a kiss on her forehead, then looked in her eyes. “I’m doing this for us, babe.” He pointed at her door. “Roll down your window and look out for your man.”