Black Widow by Nikki Turner Page B

here to try out. I don’t know if I’ll make it anyway,” Phoebe said.
    “Sure, you are going to make it. You were the head cheerleader in high school and led your squad to three straight championships. You’re a natural.” Isis tried to increase her sister’s confidence. “How many black chicks are there?”
    “Probably.” She hesitated, “about ten.”
    “Okay—they gotta have at least two black girls on the team, so you should be a lock. Plus, you got the looks and the talent. Besides, they gotta add some flavor, in my opinion.”
    “I know, but—”
    “But nothing. You’re incredibly beautiful, you have a cute figure, you’re model thin, and in shape, plus you can dance your ass off.”
    “That’s sweet of you to say, but you’re my sister,” Phoebe said. “Will they see that?”
    “Sister, please. You are cuter than any cheerleader I ever seen, and you know that I’ve seen some cheerleaders in my day with all those football games that Daddy took me to. Gurl, I need to be down there in Texas judging y’all.”
    “You right,” Phoebe said with a slight chuckle. “I guess you would know.” But Isis could hear a little hurt in her voice. “Sister, I’ve always been jealous of the relationship that you and Dad shared. He was your full-time dad and only a when-I-see-you dad for me, which was only when he had to stop by to drop off money or get a quickie with Brenda. That’s all Brenda cared about. She didn’t give a damn about Dad having a father–daughter relationship with me. Sure, sometimes he would stay a little while, but I never got to go out to eat with him or to the movies or go to the park or football games.”
    Isis had never known that her sister felt that way. Though they’d formed a bond as strong as any blood sisters could, Phoebe had never talked much about her feelings toward their father.
    Phoebe continued, “Then when Sandy killed him, my chances of us ever having a deeper relationship were killed right along with him.”
    “Sister, I’m sorry that you didn’t have a closer relationship with our father, but we both suffered great losses when he died,” Isis said. “I lost both of my parents on that day.”
    Sandy had received a thirty-year prison sentence for the killing. Isis had never understood how her mother could have done something so horrific, and so she had never forgiven Sandy or ever visited her in prison. As far as Isis was concerned, her mother had died on that day as well.
    “I’m sorry for peeling the scab off old wounds,” Phoebe said. “Let’s change the subject.”
    “Sister, you have nothing to apologize for. You should always feel free to share how you feel with me. If you can’t be honest with me, then who can you be honest with? Your mother?”
    “Yeah, right.” Phoebe chuckled. She was closer to Isis than she was her mother, a fact that wasn’t lost on Brenda. “Did you call in to work today?”
    “Yes, but I have to bring a doctor’s note. I know they are sick of me. Last week it was the funeral, and now this shit.”
    “You’ll be okay. You just gotta take care of yourself, and pneumonia ain’t nothing to be taken lightly,” Phoebe cautioned.
    “I know; it’s just hard to lie around all day,” Isis said, knowing that she should have her butt at home in bed. But she was finally regaining her full appetite, and she couldn’t stand any more of the soup Aunt Samantha had been bringing her. Cooking had never been Aunt Samantha’s strong suit, but Lord knows she tried.
    Just then a loud voice in the background warned Phoebe and the other participants: “Warm-up in five minutes, ladies.”
    “Sister, I gotta go. I need to make one more call before warm-up,” Phoebe said.
    Isis started coughing. “Okay. Good luck, sister,” she said between sniffs and coughs before hanging up the phone. She knew that she should have kept her tail at home.
    Isis left the restaurant and went home. For the next hour or so, she lay in bed, blowing