“Onnie, that’s not your mother. That’s your aunt. Well, your aunts and uncle. The older man standing next to them is your grandfather. Shirley Gipson.”
“A man named Shirley?”
“Yeah, baby, a man named Shirley.”
The limo driver opened the door. Aunjanue exited the limousine first, clutching the urn that held her siblings’ remains. She scanned the many faces watching her and spotted the Mosleys near the entryway. She motioned for Tarsha to join her. Slowly, with Tarsha’s arm wrapped around her, she entered the sanctuary to say her last good-byes to Sims, Grant, and S’n’c’r’ty.
[42]
Midnight Train to Georgia
“Look at my gorgeous niece!” Marguerite squealed. She hugged Victoria and planted light kisses on Nicolette’s face. “It’s about time you all got here. I was wondering if some terrorists had high-jacked you for all that money you got in the divorce settlement.”
Victoria shook her head and held on to the laughter welling up inside her. Victoria knew that fuchsia top anywhere. Missing were the fuchsia bell bottoms with fringe lining both sides. At least Marguerite wore skinny jeans and stilettos with the top. She must have been reflecting on the good old days. The fuchsia outfit was a throwback to the Isley Brothers 1993 concert. Marguerite wore the outfit at the end of the show as Ronald Isley belted out, “Fight the Power.” Victoria stood backstage as “Petite Marguerite” whirled around to the drum beat, shimmying her hips to the rhythm, gyrating on Ernie as he played the guitar. She wasn’t tall enough to be that lady during the “Who’s That Lady” vignette, but Marguerite brought the house down with her show girl moves.
“Time is truly wastin’, there’s no guarantee, smile’s in the makin’, we gotta fight the powers that be,” sang Victoria, remembering the simpler times with her aunt.
“After all these years, you remembered. You know I was the baddest chick on the tour, hands down.”
“Hey, since you’re playing hostess, I’ll go along with anything you say.”
“Since you’re curious about the settlement, here’s the scoop. If I learned anything from Winston, it was how to hide money,” joked Victoria.
“Y’all can’t hide money like I can.”
“What’s with this, ‘y’all’? Soon it’s gonna be ‘honey chile.’ Then shut your rubber lips. I know you’re not letting the South get into you, Marguerite Mason.”
Victoria loved the hustle and bustle of Jackson-Hartsfield Airport. She was exhausted from the divorce proceedings and felt awash in relief when Marguerite suggested she relocate to Atlanta. Indiana had taken its toll on her, and the thought of running into Aruba, or Aruba with Winston, sickened her. As she watched the carousel of luggage, she looked down at Nicolette and wondered how she’d raise her child alone.
“Did you hear me, Tori? Do you want to eat now or later?”
“I’m starving. I could eat a horse and two pigs right now.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry, too,” said Nicolette.
“Let’s slide into Blues and Brews, so we can catch up. I’ve got so much to talk to you about. Don’t forget, we’re due in Riverdale at Annie Laura’s at four this afternoon.”
“That’s right. To meet Momma. Have we found a caretaker for her yet?”
“You know my sister Lillith isn’t going down without a fight. Or a fifth of gin. She swears the doctors are wrong and she doesn’t need anyone to help her. She still has partial paralysis on her right side. All we’ll need is a personal care aide to come in and bathe her, feed her, and massage her right side. She’s not hearing it. Can you believe she’s pretending the slight twist in her mouth from the stroke is due to a Botox procedure gone wrong?”
“Of course I can. Momma was always vain. And dependent on the love of a man. You know that runs in our family.”
“Tell me again what that grimy-ass nephew of mine did to you. I can still put a hit out on him if necessary. I know low people in high places.”
Marguerite held her hand to stop Victoria from speaking and motioned to the waitress. She didn’t want to miss a tidbit about the breakup. Never mind that they were her superstar role models. It was rare to see a man genuinely interested in taking care of his family, loving his wife, and sacrificing the way Winston did. She couldn’t imagine how another woman took him away.
“I’ll have the beef brisket sandwich,” Marguerite said to the waitress.
“I’ll have the pulled pork barbecue sandwich, coleslaw, fries, and sweet tea. I’d also like a hot dog, fries, and Coke for my daughter.”
“Whoa, did you just order meat? Pork? The almighty pig? The South may have gotten into me, but what’s gotten into you, ‘Miss I’ve Gotta Watch my Figure’?”
“Little pitchers have big ears, so I’ll tell you later.”
“Back to the grime. I mean, Winston. You’ve been tight-lipped for seven months. What gives?”
“Well, my saving grace was a pre-nup with an infidelity clause. Winston didn’t have a fighting chance with the evidence I’d gathered on him. I got property and money, but I still don’t get the twisted way he funded his lover’s husband’s salon.”
“I can believe that because Winston was always a generous man. What happened between you two?”
“Let’s just say I let my lips talk my husband out of my life.”
“So you’re telling me you violated the carnal rule I taught you as a child? That women are to be tolerated, not trusted?”
“I didn’t agree with you then, and I don’t agree with you now. Experience is a rough teacher. You get the test first and the lesson later. What you should have taught me was the importance of genuineness. To have a friend, you have to be a friend, and I admit I wasn’t a very good friend to Aruba.”
“Bullshit. Don’t you sit here and blame yourself for that sneaky tramp walking away with your good husband.” Marguerite pursed her lips.
“Don’t say ‘bullshit,’Aunt Marguerite,” said Nicolette, blushing. “Daddy said people curse when they have a limited vocabulary and can’t express themselves.”
“Grownups are talking. Don’t interrupt, Nicolette. Get your crossword puzzles out of your bag.” Victoria looked at Marguerite and said through clenched teeth, “I told you little pitchers have big ears.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I admired you guys so much.”
“At my last court date, a memory came back. Do you remember when Momma and Daddy were still married?”
“I do. But I know you don’t. You were so young.”
“That’s the thing. Court triggered a memory for me. I remembered the new anniversary ring Daddy bought Momma for the B.B. King concert. She was so happy to get that ring. He worked so hard to keep her and he wanted to make her happy. They were going to Chicago to the show, and Momma bragged that whole week to Miss Julie Adams about Daddy buying her the ring. “Leland did this, and Leland did that. Don’t you wish Hank could . . .” She knew Miss Julie and her husband were struggling, but every chance she got, she threw up in her face what Daddy did for her. She sounded like a yapping dog.”
“Lillith did that?”
“Sure did. Remember what happened that Thursday?”
“Family lore, girl. Lillith walked in on Miss Julie and Leland in the bedroom making love. Miss Julie was standing up near the window, wearing Momma’s ring since it was to be cleaned that day. Miss Julie giving it to Leland like that was her last rodeo ride.”
Marguerite mused over Victoria’s words. “Are you telling me you deliberately tortured another woman with your blessings?”
“Guilty. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until it was too late.”
The food arrived. Marguerite, normally chatty and full of sage wisdom, ate in silence. What was wrong with the women in their family? Even her mother had issues maintaining friendships with women. One minute, she’d fall in with a new crew of ladies. Then someone would say something to offend her, and she’d stew and withdraw herself from the ladies. Lillith and Marguerite l
istened to their mother rant about how untrustworthy and catty women were. They never heard her say negative things about men, though. After their father died, their mother, Tessa Mason, flitted around men, laughing, flirting, trying to upgrade her widow status. Maybe their bloodline was the problem. Marguerite was tired of being reserved around women. She craved fellowship, laughter, the kind she saw in her old neighborhood in L.A. and on television. Atlanta had opened up new possibilities and challenged her old way of thinking.
“If you had to pinpoint a specific cause of your breakup, what would it be?”
“Chronic bellyaching. That and no sex.”
“Don’t tell me you shut the garage down!”
“Winston was so sweet and accommodating. I thought he’d always be there while I did what I wanted. I claimed to have more headaches than Tylenol could cure, but the real issue was punishment. I resented him so much for being away from home. I thought if I punished him for working, he’d give in and cut back some.”
“Tori, a man that successful has to put in work. For chrissake, Winston’s visibility and solid work ethic made the life you lived possible. He was so modest about his abilities. You don’t find that every day.”
“I know that now.”
“Mommy, is Daddy coming to Atlanta to see us?”
“I’m sure he will, sweetheart.”
“I miss him so much.”
“How much?” asked Victoria.
Nicolette opened her arms wide, smiling as she did so.
“He’ll visit us soon. I promise. One thing about your daddy is that he keeps his word.”
Marguerite gave Victoria the thumbs-up. Of all the advice she’d given her over the years, she still believed a wife shouldn’t badmouth her husband in front of his children. She was proud Victoria didn’t take the opportunity to bash Winston in Nicolette’s presence.
“Do you think Momma is ready to see me? It’s been so long. I hope she’s open to reuniting. After all, she’s got a beautiful granddaughter to spoil.”
“Of all the things Lillith regrets is never having a stable marriage after Leland died. Your father was the closest thing she had to stability. She couldn’t bring herself to forgive him for his indiscretion with Julie. He was so remorseful, but that stout-hearted sister of mine told him where to get off.”
“I know. I still believe he died of a broken heart. He loved her so much.”
“She lived vicariously through you and Winston. She was so proud of you for having married a successful man.”
“Guess I messed that up, huh?”
“Just take to heart the lesson, so you won’t repeat the same thing twice.”
“Twice? Oh no, I’m never getting married again.”
“Eat your food, Halle Berry. We have to get to Lillith before she accuses us of neglecting her.”
“Enough about my sad little soap opera. California was your life, Marguerite. Why Atlanta?”
“Pick a reason. High property taxes. Decreasing property values. Cost of living. Earthquakes. Plastic women. Plastic men. I’d just had enough. I sold my theater arts school and decided to give Atlanta a shot. Everybody in the business is moving here and it’s cheaper. I paid four hundred thousand for my mini-mansion in Alpharetta. I couldn’t have gotten that in Cali for less than one point seven million.”
“Things really changed since we were there. I’m not in the market for buying a home. Sounds promising here, though.”
Marguerite exhaled. “Well, that and this.” Marguerite extended her left hand to Victoria, flicking her princess-cut diamond ring back and forth. “I got engaged to Foster Richardson two months ago.”
“You dog! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Honey, you were going through what looked like the makings of your own reality series pilot. I didn’t want to flaunt it.”
“It’s possible to go through turmoil and still wish the best for someone else.”
“Girl, that divorce has growed you up!”
Victoria playfully punched Marguerite’s arm. “See, the South is getting into you. Tell me about Mr. Richardson, or should I call him Uncle Foster.”
Marguerite flashed a schoolgirl-crush smile. “He’s a youth pastor at a small congregation in Decatur. By day he works at Lithonia Lighting as a supervisor, and he’s such a natural with children. He was visiting his sister in L.A. and was a potential buyer for my school. He invited me out for dinner, then an art show, and one thing led to another. We’ve been together over a year-and-a-half.
“I’ve spent so much time keeping people at bay. I woke up three years ago at the age of forty and decided we’d been passed on a bunch of crap in our family. I want to love and be loved. And I’m tired of wearing this forty-two-percenter tiara.”
“ ‘Forty-two-percenter tiara’?”
“Like you don’t know that forty-two percent of black women will never get married. You really were sheltered, weren’t you? It’s rough out here. I’m just glad I met Foster. He found me; I didn’t go looking for him.”
“I’m so happy for you. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
Victoria swigged the last of her tea. Thought about the magnitude of dating again. Thought of how ugly the last days of her marriage were. She heard Lillith’s words: “You can’t break the chains of love, but the links can come loose.” I loosened a damn good thing.
[43]
Taking My Time
Shandy Fulton was crushed. She’d taken it slow. Kept things professional. She only talked shop with James each time she visited Dixon’s Hair Affair. As owner of the salon supply business, Fulton and Company, she hoped James would be the kind of man with whom she could build a beauty supply dynasty. In less than a month, he had purchased two dryer chairs, a pedicure chair, and a facial and massage bed. Usually men threw themselves at her, asking for her number, offering to take her out. James Dixon was a tough nut to crack. After he signed the checks for his equipment, he was back on his cell phone talking to customers or vendors. Where was he when he wasn’t in his office crunching numbers and running his fingers through that curly hair of his? Did he play basketball with his boys? Or was he a workaholic that needed her special touch to help him unwind? When she asked around about his status, the most she’d get was, “He’s off the market.” No one explained what “off the market” meant, but she hoped she’d find out tonight. That’s why she waited outside the salon until he finished his last customer. She took care to look extra special tonight, treating herself to a manicure, pedicure, and magic mud facial. She selected a free-flowing dress that accented her slender frame. She ditched her normal cream-colored attire in favor of something red. Red said confidence. She wanted to radiate confidence in his presence tonight.
Shandy watched from her car as James removed the decorative smock from his last client, took her payment, and made light conversation. She walked toward the door as the young lady stopped to peruse the wall of beauty supply products. She waltzed into the shop before her confidence waned.
“Miss, I’m done for the night.” James did a double-take and recognized her. “Shandy, I knew you’d come back. I just thought it would be next week.”
“Back?”
“You’re a workaholic, too, right? You’re so busy, you forgot you left your appointment book and some orders. I thought I had your number stored in my cell, but I don’t. I planned to call you, but I was swamped today.” James went to his office, retrieved her items, and handed them over. “You flew outta here yesterday like your house was on fire.”
“I had to meet with a warehouse rep. I’m all about the business.”
“I’m locking up before someone else tries to sneak in.”
James locked the door and offered Shandy a seat. She looked stunning in red and he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her how much he admired her work ethic, her drive, and commitment to growing Fulton and Company. Lately, he was deadlocked when it came to women. Dixon’s Hair Affair became the go-to beauty shop overnight. It wa
s nothing for women to slip him their numbers, invite him out for a drink and more. Shandy never approached him in a seductive manner. She came to the shop in uniform most days. He thought it odd that a business owner with an expansive client base would still make cold calls to shops. Shandy told him the way to grow a business was hands-on involvement. She wanted to be the face of Fulton and Company and networked whenever the opportunity presented itself. She was different than any other woman he’d met, including Aruba.
The death of Tawatha’s children and the divorce had taken its toll on James. He withdrew himself from the dating world altogether. Unbeknownst to her, Shandy planted a grow-the-business seed in his head as he launched an aggressive marketing campaign. In seven months since he’d met Shandy, he’d drummed up more business than he could handle. His biggest regret was that Aruba didn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor, the realization of his goals. He looked at Shandy now, surprised that he was attracted to her. She was the opposite of everything that turned him on about women. He liked thick, voluptuous women; Shandy was at least six-one, thin, but had enough meat on her bones to know she was a sista. He liked his berries dark brown to deep chocolate. Shandy was golden and glowing. She was quick to smile, slow to get frustrated when she negotiated prices. Still, he’d had enough of dealing with women. The break had allowed him to dig his heels into the salon and nix the negative things said of him over the years.
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