Too Much of a Good Thing

by J. J. Murray

  I had better not push her too far. “Well, Rose is going through similar changes.”

  “But what does—”

  “Let me finish. Please?”

  “Whatever.”

  That word should be removed from the English language. I push on. “Joe tells me that Rose used to be a whole lot different than she is now. Normal looking, he tells me. Jeans and sweatshirts and Nikes and hair bows. The typical white girl.”

  “I can’t believe that, Mama. She’s so out there. That doesn’t happen to someone overnight.”

  Hold that thought. “I know, it’s hard for me to believe, too. She played on the freshman soccer team, got top grades—all that. But when her mama died, she ... changed. Think about it: what if I had dropped dead right before your junior year?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I’m not planning on dying until you’re old and gray and we can compare wrinkles. I’m just saying ... What if you lost me? How would you have changed?”

  “I wouldn’t have gone Goth!”

  I laugh. “Lord, I hope not. Black people wearing more black?”

  She smiles. “There are a few black Goth kids at PH.”

  I move closer to her. “What I’m trying to say is that something would have changed in your life. Something major. The way Rose dresses, the way Rose acts, the things she shouldn’t have said to your friends—this is the way she’s trying to cope with losing her mama. I agree with you that it’s freaky, but that doesn’t make Rose a freak. She is still a scared little girl under all that ... cloth. She misses her mama as much as you miss your daddy. I’m not sure, but I’ll bet Rose is as much against her daddy being with me as you are.”

  That thought makes me shudder inside. Two strong-willed teenaged girls can be a potent combination against anything. Wasn’t Joan of Arc a teenager? I mean, I want these two to tolerate each other, not put their heads together to gang up on me.

  “What I’m trying to say is that you two have a lot more in common than not.”

  “Mama, she’ll never be my friend, not after what she said to my friends.”

  “She lost it for a few minutes on one day of a long school year. I lose it a lot more often than that, don’t I? Are you going to judge her for a few minutes?”

  Crystal is silent. She knows better.

  “Well, I hope you don’t. Your daddy and I raised you better than that.”

  “So what does all this have to do with me getting a job at ... Hot Topic?” Her voice trails away. “Because Rose shops there.”

  “I’ll bet she has a discount card and everything.”

  “But how is having a job there ... ? Mama, I think you’ve lost it again.”

  “Look, you are pierced, are you not?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  I should never have pierced her ears. She didn’t cry or even wince. “And I know you are tattooed.”

  She looks away.

  “And you’ve been tattooed long before you turned eighteen. I don’t know where you went to get that barbwire tattoo around your ankle or that rose on your back, but ...”

  Crystal looks exasperated. Good.

  “You think I wouldn’t find out? I still come in and check on you every night, girl. It’s an old habit I may find hard to break when you move out. You have never made it through the night without kicking the covers off. The rose I like. Stylish. Kinda fly.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “But the barbwire?”

  “It’s a snake, Mama.” She rolls up the leg of her sweats. “See. There’s the head, and that’s the tail.”

  “Oh.” I think I liked it better when it was barbwire. “I guess what I’m hoping is that Rose will see you differently if you work at that store or even if you just apply to work there.”

  “They won’t hire me.”

  I shake my head. “Stranger things have already happened, Crystal. And even if you work at, say, JCPenney ...”

  “Ew.”

  “Where I like to shop. Even if you worked somewhere else, at least you’ll have that store in common to shop at.”

  She leans back into her pillow. “You really want this to work out, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I do. And if having you move out is part of the solution, so be it. I don’t want you to leave, Crystal, don’t get me wrong. I may help you move out, but I will be crying the entire time and probably weeping for days afterwards. I love this man, and his kids are part of the package.”

  “Some package.”

  “It’s a tall order, huh?”

  “Yes.” She sighs. “Dag, Mama, you’re asking a lot.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. You’ve kept me sane, and happy, and needed, Crystal. Help me help a man keep me sane, and happy, and needed.”

  She sighs again. “I ... I don’t know. My friends ... I mean, if I can’t understand how you can do this, they won’t ...” She sighs yet again. Isn’t there enough oxygen in this room? “I mean, how is all this going to look? Can you honestly say you’ll be proud to hold his hand at Pilgrim?”

  “Yes.”

  “Daddy still has friends there, too.”

  I shrug. “And your point is?”

  “Just that ... I would be embarrassed, Mama.” She looks away. “I already am. This will get out. It’s too juicy not to. They’re going to say, ‘There goes the girl whose mama likes cream in her coffee’ or ‘There goes the girl whose mama is a sellout.’”

  Whoa. Would they really say that?

  “And I don’t have all that many friends.” She looks down at her hands. “I may lose a few of them.”

  This is where I’m supposed to say, “Well, then they really weren’t your friends if that happens.” This is where I’m supposed to say, “It’s none of their business anyway.” This is where I’m supposed to say something that will make all this better.

  And I can’t think of anything to say.

  “Just wanted you to know how all this will affect me, and Junior and Toni to some extent, too.” She finally looks at me. “And as for college, Mama, even at Virginia Western ...” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to go. At all.”

  I blink. “Say what? Your daddy—”

  “Keep Daddy out of this, Mama,” Crystal says with a snarl. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had been thinking about Daddy.” She snaps up her phone and punches in a number. “Now, do you mind? I have to finish talking to LaTonya.”

  Which is as good as saying, “You are dismissed.” I let her have her victory, silently backing out and leaving her room. We’ll just have to agree to disagree. I’ll just leave her be. She just needs time, that’s all. She’ll see.

  But she did hit the nail on the head. We wouldn’t be in this mess if I had been thinking about her daddy.

  And that depresses me so much.

  37

  Joe

  One down, one ... really down. Lord, help me know what to say to Rose and when to say it.

  I knock on Edgar Allen Poe’s face. “Rose, may I come in?”

  I hear a commotion inside. What is she doing? I crack open the door and see Rose packing clothes into an old duffel bag, one we used to use for camping trips. She’s leaving? Now what do I say?

  I start to close the door, then think better of it, for whose escape I’m not sure. “I take it that you’re leaving.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “May I ask where you’re going?”

  “Kim’s.”

  Kim. Another Goth girl. Great. “Is it okay with Kim’s mother?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I drift toward her desk, noticing a series of dark, foreboding sketches of ... I have no idea what these creatures are, but they’re definitely not angels. Fuzzy demons? “Are you going to ask me for my permission?”

  She finally turns and looks at me. “Did you ask me for my permission? No.”

  I walked right into that one. “I didn’t know I needed your permission to be happy, Rose.”

  �
�Well, you did.” She tries to zip up the duffel bag, but it catches on several pieces of black clothing.

  “I’ll do it,” I say, pressing her clothes inside and zipping it shut. Now why did I do that? “I can carry it downstairs for you.” And why did I say that? I shouldn’t be helping her leave, should I? “Is, um, is Kim picking you up?”

  “I was planning to walk.”

  I lift the duffel bag. “This duffel weighs a ton, Rose. I’ll drop you off.” And why did I say that? I am practically rushing her out of the house! Why am I doing all this? Lord, is this what I’m supposed to be saying and doing?

  “You’ll ... drop me off?”

  “Sure.” I hoist up the duffel bag, bearing most of its weight with my back. “Ready?”

  She hesitates. “Um, yeah.”

  She seems unsure of herself. “Do you have your toothbrush?”

  “Oh. Um, I haven’t gotten it from the bathroom yet.”

  Anger certainly makes us unorganized. “I’ll take this down while you make sure you have everything you need.”

  As I trudge down the stairs I feel two sets of eyes—the boys, standing in their doorways looking out at me. Quite a show this is becoming. I wonder how it ends. I’m leaving this in Your hands, Father.

  Rose comes down with a full dress bag and her book bag twenty minutes later. “Ready.”

  She’s stubborn, yet she took twenty more minutes to pack. What does this mean? “Um, what’s Kim’s number, you know, in case of emergency?”

  “I’ll uh ...” She leaves the hallway and goes to the kitchen. “I’m writing it on the message board,” she calls out.

  “Okay.” I am surprised how calm I am. I should be begging her not to go, and yet here I am about to take her away from here.

  She returns to me. “Well, I guess we should go.”

  I look up the stairs to where Joey and Jimmy now sit like miniature gargoyles perched on the top of some cathedral. “Don’t you want to say good-bye to your brothers?”

  Rose only glances at them. “Bye, Jimmy. Bye, Joey.”

  “Where are you going, Rose?” Jimmy asks.

  “To Kim’s,” Rose says.

  “Why?” Jimmy asks.

  “Why?” Rose shakes her head furiously. “Jimmy, you were at our family meeting. You heard what he’s planning to do.”

  “But I’m not going anywhere,” Jimmy says.

  “Because you have nowhere to go, doofus.” She looks at Joey. “Joey, you can’t pretend you like this idea.”

  “I don’t have to pretend,” Joey says. “It’s what Dad wants. That’s enough for me.”

  Lord, thank You for faithful sons ... and a daughter who is still faithful to her mother. I feel guilty about not being as faithful to Cheryl as Rose is, but don’t I have to move on?

  Rose makes two tight fists. “Hell-o! He’s marrying a black woman!”

  “She’s a woman who happens to be black,” Joey says, sounding much more calm than I’m feeling.

  And why can’t I speak? Lord, why are You holding my tongue?

  “And he was writing her online for months before he even knew that, Rose,” Joey adds. “He fell in love with her, not her color.”

  I stare at him. How did he know?

  “Junior told me, Dad,” Joey says.

  Rose turns on me. “For months, huh? Mom was barely in the ground, huh? Oh, how you must have loved her!”

  Oh, too soon ... too soon! That’s what this is all about. I should have waited longer! “I still love your mother, and I always will.” Thanks for letting go of my tongue, God.

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Well, I don’t believe you.”

  How can I help her to believe me? “Rose, you still love her, and Jimmy still loves her, and Joey still loves her. I would never doubt your love for her. Never. Mom may be gone, but our love for her isn’t gone. Love is eternal.”

  Rose doesn’t say anything. The angels must be holding her tongue now.

  “I will not leave this house because it’s her house. When Shawna and I get married, we will live in this house.” Why am I making this decision right now? It feels right, but ... “Crystal and Toni can have Joey’s room, the boys will make a bunkhouse out of Jimmy’s room, and you’ll still have your room.” And suddenly I’m being decisive. It feels good.

  “Oh, Dad, like I care about any of that.”

  I know she cares. Her room is her sanctuary, her inner sanctum. “Then tell me what you do care about.”

  “Mom!”

  “She’s gone, Rose,” I say. “We have to go on living.”

  “Am I the only one in this house who still cares about Mom? Huh?”

  Jimmy jumps up. “No!”

  I turn and see my youngest, his face contorted beyond belief. Rose even sucks in her breath.

  “I miss her cookies,” Jimmy says. “I miss eating her cookies when I came home from school. I miss when she used to play catch with me in the backyard. I miss walking down to the park with her to shoot some baskets, and we’d play horse and she’d let me win. I miss ... everything about her. And I don’t want you to leave, too.” He begins to sob.

  Rose looks at me and back at Jimmy. “I’m just going to Kim’s for a few days, Jimmy.”

  “And that’s what Mom told me before she died,” Jimmy says, tears dripping from his eyes. “Just a few days, Jimmy, it’ll seem like a few days.” He wipes his nose on his shirt. “Mom’s not coming back, Rose, and if you go, I won’t get to hear her voice anymore. You have Mom’s voice.”

  I feel this fire in my chest, and though I want to comfort him, hold him, thank him for finally saying all the things that are in his head, I can’t move. All the horrible things Rose says to him and all the names she calls him have been okay all this time because in Jimmy’s mind, his mom is still talking to him. He has just been trying to get a rise out of his sister to hear his mother’s voice.

  Ticking mantel clock, a sobbing boy, and a heavy bag. Help us, Father.

  “I’m not going away forever, Jimmy,” Rose says. “I’m just going to stay at Kim’s for a little while, that’s all. Like a sleepover.”

  Jimmy looks up. “Just ... don’t stay away too long.” He goes back to his room and gently closes his door.

  I nod to Joey, he nods, and he goes into Jimmy’s room. We must have first-son ESP or something.

  I lift the bag. “Kim lives over on ... Sherwood?”

  “No,” Rose says, most of the passion gone from her voice. “Avon.”

  “That’s close enough to walk to PH, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Um, do you have lunch money?”

  Her shoulders sag. I think she’s finally realizing how hard it is to leave your house, even with her father helping her. There are so many little things—and little brothers—to think about.

  I take a ten from my wallet. “Will this be enough to get you through the week? I’ve got more up on my dresser, I think.”

  She takes the money. “This will be enough.”

  “Even for breakfast each day?”

  Another sigh. “Well, um, not really.”

  “I’ll get you some more.”

  I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, check the dresser, and only find a crumpled five and some change. I look into Cheryl’s eyes staring at me from our wedding picture. “No, honey, I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper. “I wish you were here.”

  I return to Rose and smooth out the five before handing it to her. “All right, then,” I say. I get my coat and Rose’s fur monstrosity, handing it to her while I slip into my coat. I open the door and start to drag the duffel bag over the threshold.

  “Wait.”

  Music to my ears. “Did you forget something?” Like the fact that your family loves you, that I love you, and that your little brother can’t have you taking his mother’s voice away from him?

  “Um, I just remembered that Kim has a big test to study
for, and I’d only get in her way. Maybe tomorrow night.”

  Or maybe never, I want to add, but I don’t. “Yeah.” I drag the bag back in, shutting the door. “Should we leave this down here?” Mainly so I don’t get a hernia tonight banging it back up the stairs.

  “Uh, no, there are some things in there I may need for tomorrow.”

  I will carry this load of bricks slowly, then. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just carry it back up, then.”

  “Yeah.”

  She leaves me for the kitchen, and I hear a few drawers opening. Lord, I have missed those sounds. They remind me of Cheryl so much. Jimmy’s door opens with a little whine, two boys asking me questions with their eyes. I give them a thumbs-up. They close the door. I hoist the bag to the bottom step, and for some reason, it seems lighter.

  “Dad?” Rose calls out. “Do we have any vanilla extract?”

  Oh ... I’m crying again, this time over some vanilla extract. “Um, if it’s anywhere, it’s in the pantry on the ... second shelf from the top.”

  “Found it!”

  Looks like we’re going to have some cookies.

  Thank You, Lord, for little boys and their love of cookies.

  38

  Shawna

  I am dying to know how it’s going or how it went over at Joe’s house.

  And it’s driving Junior crazy. And I hope it’s driving Miss Have-To-Talk-To-LaTonya crazy, too.

  We’ve been watching Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Class Reunion again at an ear-splitting volume, and even though I’ve seen it at least fifteen times, howling and giggling and carrying on, I can’t keep still on the couch. Whenever they break into Gospel songs, I hum along and sway.

  “Call him, Mama,” Junior says. “Please.”

  I sit up like a proper lady should. “Joe will call me when he is good and ready. Besides, I am an old-fashioned girl. I do not call men on the phone. They call me. As it should be.” I smile. “I must school you on how to date a lady, Junior. A boy should always call the girl.”

  “Then I’ll call him for you.” He hits PAUSE, goes to the kitchen, and returns with the phone. “What’s his number?”

  “Like I said—”

  “You’re driving me crazy, Mama. I like this video, but it’s hard to enjoy it when your mama can’t keep her feet still.”