'Til I Want No More

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'Til I Want No More Page 14

by Robin W. Pearson


  “Uncle Roy?” Her grandparents’ younger child was Lerenzo’s spitting image. Maxine’s uncle even wore his hair pulled back into a low ponytail like his father.

  Lerenzo’s laughter was so full he reared back in his chair to enjoy it. He nodded. “Sí sí, claro. Of course, Roy. He looks like me, but mi nieto Roberto acts like me. My grandson is always doing something for attention, finding trouble instead. I’ve talked to him about my own shenanigans, and I think it helps him to know he shares something with his abuelo. Comforts him.”

  “Gives him ideas is more like it.” Mama Ruby took their bowls to the sink.

  Maxine locked eyes with her grandfather. “I get the feeling this is more than a story about you falling into some poop.”

  Lerenzo shrugged in his usual exaggerated fashion, raising his palms on either side.

  She pushed back her chair. “Let me help you, Mama Ruby.”

  “Child, I don’t need your help. I finally started usin’ this dishwasher, and it’s done me a heap-a good. What I need you to do is listen to your grandfather. Learn somethin’.” Ruby loaded the rinsed bowls.

  “How to use an outhouse?” Maxine fiddled with the spices on the counter.

  “Don’t be sassy. It ain’t becomin’.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Maxine ducked her head.

  “He’s talkin’ about the blessin’ of knowin’ your family, of talkin’ to your grands and great-grands one day, and affectin’ their lives. Lerenzo’s parents missed out on that. I got to talk to ’em, but I never saw ’em face-to-face. They missed out on holdin’ Viv and Roy. As much as you love hearin’ these stories about your granddaddy, imagine gettin’ ’em firsthand from your great-grandparents. Tus bisabuelos.” She raised one brow in her husband’s direction.

  Maxine couldn’t help but grin along with Lerenzo at the way her grandma’s accent smothered his native language.

  “Yes, we have been blessed. To not only hear those stories, but to connect ’em to the man he is today—to how you became my grandbaby. Smart mouth and all.” Mama Ruby closed the dishwasher and rested both hands on the counter. “This is Celeste’s heritage, too. A rich one, and only half of it.”

  I’m not much of a prize, and from what Mother says, neither is Annie Lester. Maxine tried not to imagine JD’s mother, but she clearly saw the implication of her grandma’s words.

  Ruby donned oven mitts as she peeled off the gloves with her granddaughter. “I don’t know why we’re all actin’ like this is somethin’ new under the sun, ’cause it ain’t. In my day, we said a girl was in trouble. The grandparents raised the baby, and she moved on. Nieces and nephews was raised as sisters and brothers. Sisters and brothers was really cousins. Folks knew. Life moved on.” She set a thirteen-by-nine-inch dish on a trivet and reached for a long fork.

  “That sounds like my day, too, Mama Ruby.” Maxine leaned on the counter.

  Ruby poked the baked sweet potatoes. “But you’re not ‘in trouble,’ Maxine. You don’t have nuthin’ to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m ashamed of living a lie now, but I’m not ashamed of having Celeste. Not now, not really then. That’s not why First John and Mother raised her as theirs. I just wanted . . .”

  “Qué? What did you want?” Lerenzo gripped Maxine’s shoulder.

  “I wanted her to feel secure. Taken care of. I thought she’d find a real home with them, not with me. Have the love I kept searching for but couldn’t hold on to. I wasn’t enough, and I wanted more for her. But now . . . it’s too late to go back. I can’t shake her foundation because I’m struggling. Again. Still.”

  “What do you mean you weren’t enough, preciosa? Of course you were. You are.”

  Precious. Whenever Lerenzo called her precious, Maxine always imagined herself standing by the window on a sunny winter day. She could feel the rays on her face, but the light wasn’t strong enough to warm her all the way through to the bone. It was just enough to knock off the chill and make her eyelids flutter.

  She kissed her grandfather’s hand. “Mother didn’t think so, or she never would have campaigned so hard to adopt her.”

  “Vivienne had her own burdens. Don’t carry her load, child.” Ruby hung the mitts on a hook by the stovetop. “You’re fearfully and wonderfully made—don’t forget that.”

  Maxine soaked up the aroma of the sweet potatoes but turned up a nose to her grandmother’s application of Psalm 139, though she respected her enough to acknowledge the one and remain silent on the other. “Are you making a cobbler or a casserole?”

  “Child, you best not act like you didn’t hear me. Regret is a bitter root to chew on, let me tell you.”

  “I did hear you, Mama Ruby. I’m taking time to process it all.”

  Beside Maxine, Lerenzo murmured, “Mmm-hmmm.”

  The older woman peered at Lerenzo and then at her granddaughter. “I don’t see what’s to process. You young people today talk about your truth and what’s real to you. Don’t you know it’s either true and real, an opinion or a lie? Truth don’t change. It don’t need to be processed, just believed and accepted. I can tell you still after somethin’, but you never gon’ stop searchin’ for more if you don’t know you already got it.”

  Based on past experience, Maxine knew this was no time to argue. She murmured, “Yes, ma’am,” and kept it moving.

  Ruby sighed as if accepting that this was a battle to fight another day. “While you’re being so agreeable, why don’t you tell us the real reason you’re down here today since you canceled your plans with Theodore. Lerenzo, you want to get that roast out?”

  “Woman, just say, ‘Lerenzo, take out the meat.’ Why must you pretend it’s my idea?” When his wife bumped him with her considerable hip as he rounded the island, his laughter curtailed his muttering.

  Maxine smiled at their antics. “I came down today because I thought I’d get away from thinking about Celeste and the wedding, but I should’ve known better. And I canceled our double date since the other half of my double couldn’t make it. I’m sad you’re going to make it without us.”

  Lerenzo’s eyes skittered to Ruby’s. The older woman shrugged.

  “What?” Maxine looked from one to the other.

  “Well . . .” Her grandmother looked around her as the screen door rattled against the wood frame.

  Maxine turned to see long brown fingers pressing against the tiny wire squares.

  “JD, you gon’ stretch my screen. Get in here!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE FINGERS DISAPPEARED, and the door swung back.

  Maxine noticed his teeth first. Yet his smile wasn’t for her. JD made that plain when he stepped into the kitchen and embraced Mama Ruby without a glance in Maxine’s direction.

  “Mama Ruby,” he murmured against the older woman’s cheek. He reached out and clasped Lerenzo’s hand.

  Ruby pulled back and rapped his forehead. Then she planted a big kiss where her knuckle had been. “Boy, I hear you been causin’ some trouble.”

  “Mama Ruby.” Maxine’s low voice tried to stop her grandma in her meddlesome tracks.

  “James Dee knows how I’m made.”

  Lerenzo laughed. “I’ve always told you this woman is like a broken refrigerator. She can’t hold nada. Nothing.” He squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. “James Dee, it does my heart good to see you.”

  Everybody in her family had a special name for JD, and her grandparents were no different. Maxine realized she’d have to accept he’d always be family, something Celeste had cemented for them. While Vivienne had never welcomed him to her kitchen table, JD was free to pull up a seat at Ruby’s to eat ham hocks and greens, butter beans and neck bones, biscuits and gravy. He helped her uncle pluck weeds in the garden, toted watermelons and pumpkins to their fruit stand, and shelled peas—whatever the older couple needed done. He’d even mowed the lawn when Lerenzo and Roy were down with the flu.

  But it wasn’t doing Maxine’s heart any good to see him standing in their kitche
n today. She waved limp fingers in greeting.

  JD grimaced, looking like he had an upset stomach, and waved back. “I gather you’ve been taking my name in vain.”

  Mama Ruby’s smile raised the temperature of the room a notch or two. “Not so, because here you stand. Maxine was supposed to spend the day makin’ pork roast and sweet potato cobbler with Lerenzo, but we thought she wasn’t gon’ make it. Now you’re both here.”

  Maxine slapped her forehead. “So he’s the reason for the banana pudding and the sweet potatoes! Shoulda known, since sweet potato cobbler is his favorite. I thought you were expecting Uncle Roy.”

  Ruby’s clipped tone sliced through the air. “I’m the reason I cook anything. Nobody’s makin’ me do nuthin’, ’cept the good Lord.” She turned to her husband. “I see you still didn’t get the roast out, Lerenzo.”

  He sighed. “And you’re the reason I do most things. I see you’re not asking this time.”

  Maxine waved her grandfather back and opened the refrigerator to retrieve the large foil-wrapped lump. She needed to do something more productive than search for words.

  “We was gon’ teach Maxine how to make Lerenzo’s secret pork.”

  “No, Mama Ruby. You were going to teach Theodore and me how to make it.” She peeled back the foil.

  “Así es.” Lerenzo nodded, setting the covering aside.

  “Ah, yes, the mysterious Teddy Bear,” JD murmured.

  “No es misterioso. Es su prometido.” Her grandfather arranged the bottles of spices around the platter of meat.

  “That’s right. What’s mysterious about my fiancé?”

  “What is this about a teddy bear?” Mama Ruby sniffed the orange.

  JD laughed. “I guess that’s some of the trouble you were talking about before I got here. That’s my nickname for Maxie’s . . . betrothed.”

  “How can you have a nickname for somebody you never met?” Mama Ruby pointed to a small drawer by the range. “Maxine, get me the measurin’ spoons and that small grater.”

  “Exactly! Jay thinks he knows all about Teddy, and he’s never so much as shaken his hand. Mama Ruby, since when did you start using measuring spoons? I didn’t even know you owned any.”

  “I know enough.” JD pulled out a seat at the kitchen table.

  “You don’t know anything—including the recipe for my cerdo asado. Son, you might as well get up. Levántate.” Lerenzo flicked his fingers in the younger man’s direction. “The last time you were here, I was beating you in a game of chess, but this time, you and Maxine are doing some cooking.”

  “That’s why you’re gettin’ those spoons. I don’t use ’em because I know my way round the kitchen. You two, on the other hand . . .” Ruby laughed.

  “We’re cooking?” Maxine looked from JD to her grandfather. “Why?”

  Lerenzo shrugged. “Well, that was the plan at first.”

  “Again, the plan was to cook with Theodore, not with Jay.”

  “Where is Teddy Bear?”

  Maxine tried to sear a hole in JD’s forehead with her eyes.

  He met her glare, looking as cool—and as tart—as the bowl of lemons her grandfather pulled from the refrigerator.

  Mama Ruby stepped between the two younger people and plopped a weathered book on the island. She leafed through its pages, landing on one with a large red splatter across the gutter. “Look here, while you’re both in my kitchen and got the time, make yourself useful. Take this recipe. If you can read, you can cook. Not like me, mind you, ’cause God intended for me to bless people with my food. But with a little love, it can’t help but be good. Your mama proved that.

  “Maxine.” Ruby dragged her granddaughter’s index finger to the first item on the recipe. “See here? It says wash the roast and remove the fat. But I’m tellin’ you to leave some for flavor, so don’t cut it all off.” She stuck a paring knife in JD’s left hand. “Now once she’s done, score that pork like this.” She made slicing motions in the air. “Me and Lerenzo gon’ work on pecans until it’s time to make the cobbler. You two best behave. Those are the only nuts I plan to crack in my kitchen.”

  Maxine and JD glanced at each other before nodding in concert at Mama Ruby.

  “Good. We’ll be sittin’ over at the table if y’all have any questions.” She stalked to a tall paper bag by the back door. “Lerenzo, honey pot, would you please get two bowls and the nutcracker while I get the pecans?” She winked at her granddaughter.

  JD touched Maxine’s elbow and gestured toward the meat on the counter. “Well, do you think we can do this, make cerdo asado?”

  “Without killing each other, you mean?” She turned on the faucet and risked a quick look toward the table. Mama Ruby was reaching into a sack full of papershell pecans. Lerenzo already had a small pile beside his own stainless steel bowl. “I don’t think we have a choice. Do you need an apron? I’d hate for you to get something on your clothes.”

  He glanced down, presumably to compare his burgundy cotton hoodie and his wrinkle-free khaki joggers with her pink-and-gray sweat suit. “You’re looking mighty cute yourself. If you’re okay, I’m okay.”

  Maxine busied herself with turning on the water and picking up the roast to hide her flush. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  A few minutes later, JD had cut tiny slices across the rinsed and dried pork. “What’s next?”

  She consulted the cookbook. “How about I work on making a paste out of these spices Granddaddy set out, and you slice the onions and layer them in the pan? It’s—”

  “Over the refrigerator. I remember.” JD opened the upper cabinet doors.

  “And don’t forget to tuck some slivers in the meat after you give that roast some love! Really work it in with your hands,” Ruby piped up from the table. The older woman set a trash can between her and Lerenzo, put a nut between her teeth, and commenced to cracking.

  “Shh, woman! I thought they were supposed to be doing this sin ayuda. No help from you. If they need us, they’ll ask.” Lerenzo squeezed her shoulder.

  Ruby slapped his hand. “I know, I know. But a little ayuda goes a long way when it comes time to eat. You’ll thank me later.”

  “How about I thank you now?” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Still fresh after sixty years. Maxine smiled to herself.

  JD set the heavy cast-iron pan on the counter and separated onion rings before arranging them on the bottom. He set a few slices by her. “Here you go. Or do you want me to tuck those in?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got it, but you can measure one-third cup orange juice. Then the directions say to squeeze the lime and the lemon into it.”

  He pointed to the grater. “Don’t forget to zest the orange before I squeeze it.”

  “Oh, that’s right! I was supposed to add that to the paste. Grab the sherry, too. Stir in a half cup with that.” Maxine laughed when he squirted lemon juice into his eye.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He aimed the fruit in her direction.

  She raised her arm defensively. “You wouldn’t aim at a girl wearing glasses, would you?”

  “If I remember your prescription correctly, they’re more like safety goggles.”

  “Ooh, you got jokes now.” Maxine focused on grating the orange peel so she wouldn’t scrape her knuckles.

  “No, I just wish I was wearing them when I sliced these onions. They made me cry like a baby.” He swiped at the tip of his nose. “Ugh, now my hands will smell like this for the next two days.”

  “Not if you scrub them with lemon juice and sugar. Remember how Mama Ruby showed us? I’ll help you after you pour that onto the roast.”

  JD whisked the sherry into the citrus juice mixture, then coated the meat. Then Maxine sprinkled a scoop of sugar and squeezed the remains of a lemon over his hands.

  “Scrub them for a couple minutes before you rinse it off. That’ll cut the onion odor.”

  JD sniffed his hand. “Better already.”

&nb
sp; Crack. Crack. Crack.

  Maxine pointed at the nutcracker, forgotten on the table between her grandparents. “When are y’all going to start using one of those?”

  Crack. Crack. Crack.

  “Or imagine how fast you could go with an electric nutcracker!”

  “And then I couldn’t sit outside or at my kitchen table. My teeth go with me wherever I go.” Ruby blew shells into the trash can. “Faster isn’t always better. You just make a mess in shorter time. Y’all just focus on getting that roast into the refrigerator, and leave me to my pecans.” Crack. Crack. Crack.

  “Why the refrigerator and not the oven?” Maxine stowed spices into the pantry.

  Lerenzo brushed some shells off the table and into his hands as he rose. “Because it needs to marinate so the flavors can go all through it, nieta. We’ll baste it the rest of the day and slide it into the oven tonight. Usually we prepare it late in the evening and cook it nice and slow the next morning.” He tore off a long sheet of foil and handed it to JD. “Cover it tightly before you slide it in the refrigerator. You didn’t know all that went into my cerdo asado, huh?”

  Maxine smirked. “You’ve always prided yourself on keeping the recipe a secret.”

  Ruby chuckled. “Well, now you’re ready to learn. And don’t you worry. We’ll add a touch of this and that once your back is turned. We didn’t tell you everything. That roast is like a marriage, which you’ll see for yourself one day. A lot goes into it, things you can’t anticipate or know about ahead of time—sweet, sour, savory. All that work makes your life together into somethin’ go-o-od, let me tell you.”

  She set their bowls of cracked nuts on the counter. “But jump into things before you’re ready to learn? Leave out some ingredients? Don’t take off enough fat or leave too much? Cut corners and don’t put in the time you should? The flavor won’t be as rich.”

  “Point made. I get it, Mama Ruby. What I won’t get is some of this roast we slaved over.” Maxine desperately wanted to change the subject.

  “Not unless y’all come back tomorrow.” Mama Ruby washed and dried her hands.

  “Not without her Teddy Bear, I’m sure.” JD closed the refrigerator with a thunk.

 

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