A Long Time Comin'

by Robin W. Pearson

  “Was he angry?”

  “Yes. Was Kevin angry? You’ve been holding back some pretty important information from him, your husband, the reason you’re in this situation. This affects him, not just you. Pregnancy changes everything.”

  “So I’m pregnant. My life didn’t change.” Evelyn reached for more grapes.

  “Your life didn’t change?” Lis’s chuckle was short on mirth. “Girl, of course your life changed. You’re sleeping differently, you’re eating differently—you need to dress differently. I’m surprised Mama hasn’t lit into you yet.”

  “Granny B? She’d have some nerve.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Evelyn suddenly focused on peeling her grape. “Nothing.”

  Mama walked over and snatched the fruit from her. “You always mean something, Evelyn. And this is no different. Did y’all get into it again?”

  “Get into it?”

  “Yes, get into it. Like you did before.”

  “No, Mama. Granny B and I did not get into anything. It’s just that I’m tired—”

  “There you go with that lame ‘I’m tired’ excuse.”

  “I’m tired of you defending Granny B. I mean, who is she? Just some ordinary person like you or me. She’s had her own problems to deal with, just like I’ve had.”

  “Ordinary? Ordinary! You’re going to stand there and call my mama some ordinary woman? So you think you could give birth to nine children and bury two of them, starting when you were fifteen years old?”

  “Mama—”

  “You think an ‘ordinary woman’ can raise up seven children by herself? And do such a job most of them become accomplished, God-fearing people—lawyers, business owners, teachers, parents? Do you think an ordinary woman could live so distinguished and upright that even white people back in the sixties gave her respect? Do you think you could live and die with such dignity, Evelyn? That you’d still come out of it loving the Lord?” Lis’s chest heaved.

  “Mama, listen. I really don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  “You’re right this time, Evelyn. You most certainly don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shoved the grapes at her daughter. “When you can summon up one-tenth of the character of my mama, the courage she had to own up to her responsibilities and do what needed to be done . . . well, then you’ll be doing something. But until then, yes, I will continue to compare you and everybody else to her. And you’ll come up wanting.” Lis stomped from the kitchen.

  Evelyn started to run behind her mama and tell her a thing or two about her dignified mother, but she went to her room instead, glad that Kevin was playing basketball with Jackson. She threw herself across the bed. Before she cried herself to sleep, Granny B’s voice asked her, “How can you forgive somebody for tearin’ your heart out and givin’ it back to you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  KEVIN SHOOK HER GENTLY. “Evelyn?”

  Evelyn rolled onto her side away from him.

  “Evie?”

  Though she still clung to sleep, Evelyn retreated physically and emotionally at his pet name. His touch forced her to open her eyes. She blinked and flopped onto her back.

  “Good morning, Evie.” He smiled and touched the mound her midsection made beneath the sheet. When she recoiled, he withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

  She regretted her reflexive movement. She reached for his hand and held it to her belly. “I’m just waking up, that’s all.” She cleared her throat and tried to smile. “You know I’m not a morning person.” Ignoring his questioning eyes, she squeezed his fingers, threw back the covers, and moved away. “It seems quiet. Where’s everybody?”

  “Lis and Jackson left for church some time ago. Then they’re going to Granny B’s. How about we join them? I haven’t seen her yet.”

  She and her mama had tiptoed around each other the past thirty-six hours, and she hadn’t spoken to Granny B since she’d fled her home. “I’m not up to it today. But please don’t let me stop you.” And she really meant please. She ached for some time alone.

  Evelyn stretched, causing her pink flowered nightie to lift higher on her thighs. Feeling his eyes on her and knowing the house was practically empty, Evelyn straightened and pulled down her white lace hem. She flicked aside the curtain to avoid his hungry look. The drops that had sent her scurrying for the car two days before were nothing compared to the torrential downpour outside. “What a difference a day makes.”

  “Why don’t we have breakfast and hang out? We can spend some time catching up and maybe watch a movie or cuddle on the sofa.”

  “Mmmmm.” I wonder what he means by “hang out” and “cuddle”? Evelyn left the window seat and headed toward the door. “I’m going to wash up and get dressed. You want to start with breakfast and see what happens from there?”

  Kevin reached for her hand as she passed him. “Want an omelet, coffee, or me?”

  “Why don’t we go with door number two? I’d love some coffee. Decaffeinated.” Evelyn kissed him lightly on the cheek and dug out denim shorts and a flowered T-shirt. Then she hastily found refuge in the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned against the closed and locked door and squeezed her eyes shut on a prayer. Dear Jesus, help me. I can’t live without Kevin, but it’s hard to live with him. Show me how to trust him, to forgive him, to love him as You want me to, flaws and all. His sins against me, against You, O Lord, are no greater than mine. Please, please, please help me remember that. I know I want You to forgive my trespasses, so help me forgive his. Amen.

  Evelyn heard the landline ring just as she stepped from the shower. A moment later, there was a soft tap on the bathroom door.

  “Evelyn?”

  “Yes?” The T-shirt muffled her voice as she pulled it on.

  “Telephone.”

  Evelyn turned the lock and peeked around the door.

  “I’m going to join Lis and Jackson and visit Granny B.” Kevin thrust a phone at her through the opening before he abruptly about-faced and headed toward the stairs.

  I guess he was going for door number three, she thought, only slightly chagrined. “Hello?”

  “Evelyn?”

  “Oh, hi.”

  “‘Oh, hi’ to you, too. I won’t hold you long, so don’t worry.”

  “No worries, Yolanda. Kevin just didn’t tell me who it was.”

  “I’ve been trying to catch up with you for a while, to talk about Mama’s birthday party. Did you get my text about switching gears? With everything going on, I think it’s a good idea.”

  Evelyn smacked herself on her forehead. “Right, right, I did. I’m sorry. And I agree: a family dinner sounds best, and now Kevin can be there since he’s changed his travel itinerary.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard. I’ve talked to him more than I’ve talked to you. So, no more jet-setting for him?”

  “Nope, looks like he’s homebound for a minute. Listen, thanks for staying on top of all this and for chasing me down. Life has been crazy.”

  “Sure. You know how I hate loose ends. Maybe this will take one thing off your plate.”

  What plate? Yolanda had no idea Evelyn hadn’t spared a thought for her mama’s party. At least now she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about avoiding her sister’s calls or faking excitement in a roomful of people. Soon enough, she’d be faking grief. The baby kicked her, and she jumped.

  Evelyn cleared her throat. “I appreciate your taking the reins. I’m sure you have enough on your own plate. How are you?”

  “Tired, but good.”

  “I’m sure. Keeping up with the family and your responsibilities at the firm must keep you hopping. How are the kids?”

  “Getting on my nerves. Wonderful as ever. You know, Monica starts school this fall.”

  “That’s right! She just turned five, didn’t she? With all that’s going on here, it slipped my mind. Did you do it up in a big way?”

  “Of course! We had a tea party. Complete with ten lit
tle girls in flowered hats, dripping red fruit punch on my carpet.” She laughed. “I lost a plate, but it was lots of fun. Phillip Jr. blew a gasket when they trooped into his room, but I promised him a game for his computer, and he settled down.”

  Evelyn quickly calculated her nephew’s age. “He turns eight this November, right?”

  “Yes, though you’d think he was thirty-eight the way he tries to boss people around here. Phil treats him like the sun rises and sets on him. I keep saying, ‘You’d better take a hard line. We’re going to have a mess on our hands.’ But you know men are hardheaded, old and young.”

  She sounds so much like Mama. Is this how I’m going to sound in a few years? Evelyn looked at her belly.

  Yolanda seemed to hear her thoughts. “But what about you? You’ll have your own soon. I haven’t talked to you since you found out you were pregnant.”

  Since everybody else found out I’m pregnant. “Yes, I know. A lot has happened, but . . . I’m good. You talked about the kids, but you left out my brother-in-law. How is he?”

  Yolanda paused. Then she took a breath. “Phillip is better. We’re better. Actually, Phillip and I just got home from a marriage retreat.”

  “A marriage retreat?”

  “Sponsored by the women’s ministry at our church. It was beautiful—but you know it took the Lord to get me into the wilderness! I don’t do bugs. I had to suck it up, though. Phillip and I really needed this.”

  Evelyn took the phone into her mother’s room and stretched out on her chaise longue. “Y’all good?” She heard her sister sigh again from hundreds of miles away.

  “We’re getting there. It was iffy for a minute.”

  Evelyn was unsure how to navigate these uncharted waters of her sister’s vulnerability.

  But Yolanda continued, unprompted. “I’m just grateful God blessed me with this loving, patient man. If He hadn’t, I don’t know, Ev . . . I guess I’d be on my way to single motherhood.”

  “He’s loving and patient? Did you—?”

  “Have an affair? No, it wasn’t something that black-and-white. But really, it’s not what I did. It’s more about what I didn’t do. I pretty much checked out. I couldn’t manage more than the bare minimum. You didn’t notice you weren’t hearing from me?”

  Evelyn cringed. She’d thought she was avoiding Yolanda, not the other way around.

  Her sister must have sensed her chagrin. She cracked up. “It’s okay, Sis. We never talked much anyway. Life just got to be too much for me, and . . . let’s just say I stepped away from myself for a bit. From Phil, the kids, work. Everything. I just wasn’t quote-unquote happy, and I thought I deserved it, or some such nonsense. But Phil held on to our marriage, to our family, to me. He waited until I got it together. Shoot, there’s lots of ways to be unfaithful in a marriage.”

  Don’t I know it? Evelyn rolled to her side, overwhelmed with the awareness that this was God. She felt more shock than judgment. She and her sister hadn’t talked in almost a month about something as banal as the weather, let alone life changers like this. “Yolanda, I didn’t know . . .”

  “No one did—well, no one but me and Phillip and Mama. And I wouldn’t be talking about it so easily now if I hadn’t just left the retreat and told the group. This isn’t something I’d normally share so easily with anybody, including you, Baby Sister. But God showed me how being real about my own marriage, my own limitations, helps others.”

  “Mama knew?”

  “Who do you think I cried my heart out to when Phillip confronted me? And I really think if it wasn’t for the children—and God, of course—he would have moved out. And I couldn’t blame him. Shoot, Mama’s got a whole bunch of my secrets buried in her backyard! She really helped me find my way back home. We’re not perfect, but we’re like new—and not like Target-opened-box-returned-television new. I’m saying brand-new.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Yo.”

  She sighed. “That’s because we never say more than two words to each other, let alone the deep stuff. Maybe that can change. We’re about to have lots more in common when you have that baby! Mama told me how good you look. I was as big as a house when I carried my babies.”

  “She said that?”

  “Mmm-hmmm, she said you could barely tell you’re showing. Why’d you wait so long to tell somebody?”

  Because I hadn’t even told my own husband, Evelyn almost blurted out. Instead she answered, “There was so much going on around here. It just seemed like one more thing to discuss.”

  “‘One more thing to discuss’? That’s good news, something we needed to hear. It’s not like you had to tell somebody you’re sick or dying . . . Oops, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Well . . . you know. Granny B.”

  “She’s your grandmother, too.”

  “True, but you have to admit she never could stand much of me or Lionel.”

  “Yolanda! That’s not—” Actually, it was true. But then Granny B couldn’t stand much of anybody, and Evelyn told her that.

  “Maybe, but you and Granny B have this special chemistry.”

  “I just bully my way in. Everybody else is too afraid to.”

  “But that’s just it. You two are so alike.”

  “Just because we share the same name doesn’t mean we’re alike.”

  “No, it’s just one more thing. The way you speak your mind—”

  “So I’m honest. At least I’m nice about it.”

  “But when you pretend you don’t hear a question or politely change the subject . . . same thing. And you know how Granny B remembers even the smallest offenses? Well, that’s you, a dog with a bone. I’m sure you still remember why you got in trouble when we were at Maxine’s that day—”

  “Because you disobeyed Mama and I got the blame for it! You know that was your fault—”

  “See? That’s what I mean. Like I said, just won’t let things go,” Yolanda giggled. “And you’re both so closemouthed. Look at how Mama found out her own mother was sick, from a friend. That’s you. Granny B all the way . . . Evelyn? You still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re not mad, are you? I’m sorry—”

  “Now why are you apologizing?”

  “I thought—”

  “I’m fine. I’m glad to hear your voice. I needed this. Did you call to talk to Mama?”

  Yolanda didn’t answer for a moment. “Actually, no. Like I said, we walked in the door, and the Lord said, ‘Call your sister.’ So I did. You’re really all right? And Kevin? I imagine he’s ready to get y’all back home.”

  Evelyn made a quick decision. “Kevin . . . well. I’m really glad he came back early. We have stuff to work through. The baby, for one.”

  Yolanda said nothing for a few seconds as if she was listening to all the unspoken words between them. Then she seemed to reach a decision, for she abruptly shifted her tone from warm-and-fuzzy to back-to-business. “Speaking of babies, I should go. Mine have been awfully quiet for too long, and you know what that means.”

  Evelyn drew from her teaching experience to chime in with her: “Trouble!”

  A few minutes later, they ended the call with a promise to talk again soon. Evelyn replaced the receiver and tucked the conversation into the back of her mind. She’d bring it out later, turn it over, and poke at it, but for the moment, the rest of the day yawned before her.

  Then she spied her mama’s closet. Not thinking twice, she opened the door wide and stepped inside. Lis’s walk-in closet was just as neat and organized as Granny B’s, just bigger—nearly the size of Granny B’s extra bedroom. She pushed through clothes, accessories, and other odds and ends. When Evelyn couldn’t find anything interesting above, she ducked under the skirts and shirts. And there in the back she found yet another box, the box, what her subconscious mind had sought the whole time. She dragged it into the open and lifted its lid. Inside, hundreds and hundreds of photographs
fought for space.

  Lis had always promised to “do something soon” with all the photographs they’d taken, but her “soon” spanned more than three decades. Evelyn plowed through, briefly reliving the life history of their family: Lionel and his first and only puppy. A tiny Yolanda, sprawled on the sidewalk in a pair of clunky skates. Evelyn holding a screaming Jackson the day her mama and daddy brought him home. Graham holding their laughing crew in his armchair. Her mama kicking up a leg, brandishing a one-dollar bill outside her salon.

  The photographs depicted fruitfulness, productivity, blessings. Evelyn considered their accomplishments, what her aunts and uncles had striven for. Was it all based on a lie? She had half a mind to scratch off the coating to find the ugliness their smiling faces concealed.

  Evelyn gathered her energy and dragged the box to her room. There, she upended it, watching images cascade onto the floor. She rubbed her hands together, relishing the project ahead of her.

  For the next few hours Evelyn threw herself into grouping them based on the year they were taken. Sometimes she guesstimated, studying their clothes, where they were, or the subject. Lionel’s Members Only jacket got him thrown into the 1980s pile. A photograph of her posing with her parents and Yolanda on the steps of the Capitol was placed in the 1990s because Lionel had graduated from George Washington University in 1999. Jackson’s baby pictures landed him in the new millennium stack.

  She was grooving along when she happened upon a large copy of one of the two photographs hanging in Granny B’s front room. In it, Granny B commanded center stage, her hand clutching the head of a doe-eyed Sarah, pinning her to a spot just to Granny B’s left. Little Ed stood partially behind his baby sister and his mama, his arms intertwined with a statuesque Elisabeth, a young woman of seventeen. For once, she and Little Ed refrained from punching or chasing each other. To Elisabeth’s left Ruthena, with her long plaits, clung to the fringes, looking as if she would rather be somewhere else—perhaps crouching on bended knee at the church. On Granny B’s right Thomas held a slight four-year-old Milton, who always seemed small for his age. Mary’s toothy smile shone just beside Thomas’s right shoulder. They all grinned at the unknown photographer, the day Elisabeth finished high school, the day before she graduated from the Spring Hope school of hard knocks and left home for good.