by Sandra Kring
I dipped my head out of the doorway again and stood with my back against the dining room wall until I could catch my breath, then I peeked back into the kitchen.
“Hard work or not, that baby was everything to me,” Hannah said. “She was so beautiful, and smiley all the time. Just so full of love. My husband was dead and gone, and my daughter all but dead to me. Why, that sweet baby kept me from curling up and dying.”
Aunt Verdella’s eyes were still opened wide and blinking fast, but even so, she patted Hannah Malone’s puffy hand, as tears curled over Mrs. Malone’s cheeks.
“Can you imagine how upsetting it was for me to have Freeda show up out of the blue, after five whole years? Five years? She came into town every bit as unexpectedly as she left it and said that she was taking Winnalee with her. Imagine! She wouldn’t tell me where she’d been or where she planned to go. She wouldn’t even tell me if she had the means to take care of a little girl. Nothing! What reason did I have to believe that she’d grown up at all or repented her sins and settled into a decent life? Of course, I told her she couldn’t take Winnalee. And what? See that little girl grow up every bit as bad as her mother?”
Hannah Malone sniffled, coughed a bit, then continued. “We argued, of course, because I was beside myself at the thought of losing my baby girl. I tried to reason with Freeda, and when that didn’t work, I told her she was welcome to move back home or leave alone but that she couldn’t take my Winnalee. I needed that child!”
“Oh my,” Aunt Verdella said.
“She stormed out of the house. I was hoping she’d left for good at that point. But I knew better. She hadn’t taken her suitcase, only her purse. She came home drunk and foulmouthed in the middle of the night and started in on me all over again. How could I have in good conscience turned that precious little girl over to someone who it was clear hadn’t mended her ways at all?
“I couldn’t bear the thought of that little girl growing up thinking that her own mother had abandoned her, so when Winnalee started calling me Ma, I didn’t correct her. And for good reason. Christmas would come, Winnalee’s birthday, and not so much as a card in the mail,” Mrs. Malone said. “I thought it was better if she thought I was her mama, so at least she’d feel she had one.” Aunt Verdella put her arm around Hannah Malone—as far as it would reach anyway—and gave her a squeeze.
Hannah Malone was blubbering now, her whole body shaking. “Freeda thought I’d tried to turn Winnalee against her by having her call me Mama, but I never did such a thing. Freeda’s pictures were up, and I told Winnalee that that was her big sister, who was working in the city, and that soon she’d come pay us a visit. Winnalee’s an imaginative child, which I’m sure you know, and she concocted a story for herself, thinking that her pretty sister was a movie star. Even at four, she’d put on little shows for me, saying that when she grew up, she was gonna be a movie star just like Freeda.”
Hannah sounded so wheezy that I’m sure Aunt Verdella thought she’d choke to death, so she told Hannah to take a breath. “And I think I’d better do the same,” Aunt Verdella said. Hannah sucked in her breath and blew her nose some more.
“When Freeda ran away, leaving Winnalee behind, I had to bear up with the gossip before it settled down. After a time—well, because everybody in town respects me for the Christian woman I am, I suppose—they actually seemed to forget that Winnalee was really Freeda’s child. I forgot sometimes too.”
“Well,” Aunt Verdella said, “I know even with my niece I can forget sometimes that she’s not mine. So I can only imagine.”
At the mention of my name, my breath sucked in and I backed away from the door opening again, sure Aunt Verdella would look up and see me and realize I was standing nearby being all ears.
“Well, and you can imagine how the gossip flew after Freeda came and took Winnalee away. Everyone in town, of course, heard about how Freeda went to the school, saying that I was dead and she needed to take Winnalee out immediately. What could Winnalee’s teacher do but release Winnalee to her? She’d taught Freeda, and she knew Freeda was Winnalee’s mother, so she knew Freeda had every right to take her.
“Mrs. Peters…may I call you Verdella?” Aunt Verdella told Hannah she could. “Verdella, you can imagine how shocked and hurt I was to learn that Freeda had told my little Winnalee that I was dead. Telling the teacher that was bad enough, but to tell Winnalee such a horrible lie too? Oh, it just pains me to think of it. And then to hear from Mrs. Hamilton that that poor little girl is still so devastated that she can’t bear to part with me and carries around an urn that she believes contains my ashes? My God, is there no length of cruelty that my daughter will go to to hurt me? And doesn’t she care that she hurts Winnalee in the process?” Hannah Malone paused then, as if she was waiting for Aunt Verdella to answer her.
“It broke my heart too, to see poor Winnalee carrying around those ashes,” Aunt Verdella said. “You can see, then, can’t you, why I went to Hopested to buy that stone and plot?” I peeked around the corner again.
“Verdella, I’m sure in view of what I’ve told you, you can see that telling me how to find them is the only right thing to do.”
Aunt Verdella’s hand came up to fidget with the neckline of her housedress. “Oh dear. I’ve put myself in such a quandary. My husband, Rudy, he tells me all the time to stay out of other people’s business. Oh dear, I feel so on the spot.” Aunt Verdella glanced at the back door. The heavy rain had changed into a softer, steadier rain, and I knew that Aunt Verdella was worried that Winnalee would show up at any minute.
“And what do you plan to do, if I may ask, if I tell you where Freeda and Winnalee are? Go to them out of the blue? Oh my, it would be the shock of Winnalee’s life! She believes you’re her mama, and she believes you’re dead. She’s carried you everywhere for five years now. She’s just a little girl, Hannah, and if Freeda is her birth mother, then…”
Aunt Verdella spread her arms wide. “Do you think Freeda would change her mind and turn Winnalee over to you now? Is that what you’re hoping for? She wouldn’t, you know. She loves that child something fierce!”
My mind was nothing but a mixed-up mess by now. I didn’t know what to do or what to think, only that I didn’t want Winnalee showing up to get the shock of her life, and I didn’t want Winnalee to go away. I turned around and leaned against the wall, the taste of blood against my tongue.
“I don’t think it’s for you to decide, Mrs. Peters. Freeda is my daughter and Winnalee is my granddaughter. I deserve the peace of mind that only seeing Winnalee will give me.”
I didn’t need to see Aunt Verdella’s face to know that she was probably glancing at the door, wishing that Uncle Rudy would walk through it and tell her what to do.
I leaned my face so close to the door frame that I could feel my warm breath, and I slid to the side slowly so that only one eye peeked into the kitchen. Aunt Verdella was still fussing with her neckline. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful or difficult, Mrs. Malone, but this has all come as a shock to me. I’m afraid that the best I can do for now is to tell Freeda that you’re in town and try to coax her to talk to you alone first. No matter how you feel, or how Freeda feels, Winnalee’s the one we need to think about right now. You can’t just go show up on their doorstep, Hannah, without that child being prepared somehow.”
Mrs. Malone’s arms flung up shoulder-high, then slammed down on the table. “You go telling Freeda I’m in town, and she’ll be gone before you can even get all the words out!”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Aunt Verdella said. “But that’s the best I can do. I would imagine you’re staying here in town tonight?”
“I plan to check in at the hotel at the end of Main Street,” Hannah said. “This drive has been too much for me. Especially while I’m in this emotional state.”
“Okay,” Aunt Verdella said. “Then I’ll bring Freeda over to Daverson’s Motel in the morning, if she agrees to see you. I can’t exactly say what time.”
; So it was decided.
And it was a good plan, I guess. Had it only gone right.
23
Mrs. Malone hadn’t even hoisted herself off of her chair yet when the front door creaked open and Freeda’s voice rang through the house. “Verdella? Hey, I came to see if you and Button can come over. Winnalee ran a nail up her foot and I had to bring her in to the doctor.” I saw Freeda from the dining room where I was standing. Her sandal snagged on the rag rug, and she stopped to right it with her other foot. “She’s carrying on like she’s dying, of course. She says it hurts to walk, so she wants Button to come over to play paper dolls or something—and I’ve got to get to Marty’s. I’m late for work already!”
Noises went crazy in my throat as Freeda slipped her foot back into her shoe, then clacked through the dining room. I glanced into the kitchen, where Aunt Verdella and Hannah Malone stood, still as icicles.
“Hey there, Button,” Freeda said when she reached me. “Where’s your—” And her voice stopped when she ran smack-dab into the same picture of those frozen ladies that I was looking at.
For a minute, Aunt Verdella and Mrs. Malone stood at the table staring at Freeda, their eyes big and round and scared.
Freeda was the first to speak. “What in the hell are you doing here?” I looked up at Freeda. Even from a side view, I could see that her eyes had changed into glowing slits. Like cats’ eyes, when their ears go back and the fur on their back humps up.
“Freeda!” Hannah Malone’s eyes, which were nothing but two red holes from crying, filled up like rain puddles.
“How in the hell did you find me?”
Aunt Verdella moved first. She rushed to Freeda and wrapped one arm around Freeda’s waist, resting her free hand on Freeda’s arm. “Honey. Just stay calm. I can explain everything.”
Freeda looked at Aunt Verdella as though Aunt Verdella had suddenly turned into some kind of a scary monster. Freeda squirmed out of Aunt Verdella’s hold and turned around until she was facing the dining room.
“Please, Freeda. Sit down. Let’s talk. For Winnalee’s sake,” Aunt Verdella said.
Freeda shook her head like there were spiders crawling against her scalp. “There’s nothing to talk about. I want her out of here right now.” She turned back toward the kitchen and pointed toward the table, her finger wagging. “Don’t you even think about coming near Winnalee. You hear? I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out if you even try.”
Aunt Verdella’s gasp was the loudest. “Freeda! That’s your mother you’re talking to!”
“I don’t give a damn who she is. I want her to leave me and Winnalee alone!” I could only see Freeda’s back, but I knew from the way she was standing—all stiff, her hip banged over to one side—that she meant business.
“Young lady, don’t you talk to me like that!” Hannah Malone said, and her voice didn’t sound like a sad little girl’s voice no more.
“Shit. My mother, my ass.” I could hear something close to tears in Freeda’s voice. She turned to Aunt Verdella. Her voice, when it came, was filled with anger. “Did you send for her? Did you?”
“No, honey. I didn’t.”
“Then how in the hell did she find me in this little rat hole of a town?”
“I can explain, Freeda,” Aunt Verdella said. “I can explain if you’ll only listen.” Freeda crossed her arms, her fingers pressed hard against her skin.
“I didn’t bring her here, but I am responsible for her coming. I’m sorry, Freeda. I didn’t do it on purpose. I’d gone to Hopested to buy your ma a plot and a gravestone. For Winnalee’s sake. So that poor child didn’t have to carry that urn around anymore. That’s when I found out that—”
“You had no right sticking your nose in my goddamn business!”
“I wasn’t trying to stick my nose in anyone’s business, dear. I was just trying to do something nice for Winnalee and you. That’s all. The funeral home told your mother I’d been there. I’d given my name and address, of course, and I gave them the name I wanted on the gravestone. That’s when they told me that your ma was still alive.”
Hannah Malone, who was standing now, braced her hands on the table and glared at Freeda. “It doesn’t matter how I found out, Freeda. What matters is that I am here now. And you, young lady, owe me an apology, as well as proof that my grandchild is well and happy. And if you had an ounce of sense in that head of yours, you’d hand Winnalee over to me right now, so that child could finish growing up in a good Christian home.”
I could almost feel Freeda’s rage then, so hot that it seemed it could burn us all in one swipe. I stepped backward and slid around the dining-room table, not wanting to be too close when Freeda went all the way berserk. “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing. Not one fuckin’ thing! And don’t you talk to me about good Christian homes either!”
Hannah Malone slapped the kitchen table with one fat hand. “Stop that foul language right now. And whatever you do, do not take the Lord’s name in vain in my presence. You hear me?”
I heard Aunt Verdella mutter, “Oh dear.”
Freeda laughed, but there was no fun in her voice. “Yes, oh my, we could not have the family embarrassed by Freeda’s foul mouth, now, could we?”
“You should be embarrassed!” Hannah said. “After the things you’ve done to our family. Dragging our good name through the mud, and breaking my heart as you’ve done!”
Freeda sprung at her then, her hands wrapped in tight fists. “Shut up, you self-righteous bitch! Shut the fuck up!”
Aunt Verdella grabbed Freeda’s arm and held tight. “Freeda, please. Hannah. Let’s all calm down, please! All this screaming isn’t gonna solve anything. Don’t go saying things you’ll both regret later.”
Freeda yanked her arm away and wrapped it back around herself. She was huffing and stepping from side to side, like she was waiting for one of those starting guns to tell her it was time to run. “I want her out of this goddamn town. Now. Or I’m gonna bolt. You understand, Verdella?”
“Freeda, please, say anything you want to me, but I can’t bear to hear my Lord’s name taken in vain,” Hannah said.
Freeda laughed, but I don’t think she thought what her ma said was really funny. “Isn’t it a joke, Ma? That after all that happened, the issue to you is what cusswords come out of my mouth? Jesus H. Christ. Somebody slap me before I lose my fucking mind over the absurdity of it all.”
“Will you sit down, Freeda? Please?” Aunt Verdella asked.
Freeda shook her head.
“Okay. Okay. Just calm down, then, dear, please. And maybe you and your ma can have a good talk and—”
“No, Verdella. This isn’t my ma sitting here. My ma died to me, years ago.”
More tears squeezed out of Hannah’s puffy eyes. “Freeda, please. Don’t be cruel now.”
“Don’t be cruel? Oh my God!” Freeda grabbed at the sides of her head and shook it. “I can’t believe you’d dare call me cruel. My God!” She started crying then too, but those kind of angry tears that make people gasp and gulp, and growl.
“Calling your mother foul names isn’t cruel?” Hannah asked. “Telling her own grandbaby that she’s dead, and ripping away the child I raised by myself for five years, isn’t cruel?”
“You want to talk about cruel, Ma? Is that what you want to talk about? Fine! Let’s talk about cruel!
“Let’s talk about a ten-year-old girl coming to you—your own baby girl—to tell you that her uncle Dewey has been slipping into her room at night and touchin’ her pee-pee. And let’s talk about you slappin’ her face for saying a bad word like pee-pee!”
Hannah Malone gasped, as did Aunt Verdella. Aunt Verdella looked up then and saw me standing behind the table, watching and listening. “Button. You go over and sit with Winnalee. You hear me?”
I ducked away from the door and walked through the living room. My stomach felt sick, and I could taste blood inside my mouth. I knew I should keep walking. Right out the front door and across the lawn, jus
t like Aunt Verdella told me to. But I couldn’t get my feet to keep moving, and I couldn’t get my big ears to stop listening either. And before I knew it, my feet were walking me around back to listen and peek at the kitchen door.
“Oh, I could spit on you, for that look of shock you just plastered on your face,” Freeda said to her ma. “I could! I came to you after putting up with that son of a bitch’s sick shit for months, and I was so scared to tell you what he was doing that I puked. Remember that? I puked before I could even get all the words out, just as I held puke in my mouth every time that sick bastard came and touched me like that, and made me touch him too. I was terrified, because he’d told me that if you ever found out what I was doing, you’d be so heartsick that it would kill you. I was terrified that you’d die on the spot when I told you, but I needed some comforting bad that day. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any comfort to give me. You gave me a slap and a goddamn rag and told me to clean up my mess, because you couldn’t bend. And after that, you said you couldn’t make the stairs anymore because of your knees, and you let me sleep up there alone with that fucker every single night.”
“Oh my,” Aunt Verdella said, and there was pain in her voice. She went to Freeda and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, honey,” she said. Freeda let Aunt Verdella hug her a bit, but she pulled her head off of Aunt Verdella’s shoulder.
“Is it any wonder, Ma, that I turned out the way I did? Hating men as I do? Yeah, I give them what they want, but goddammit, if I gotta play the role as somebody’s whore, the way I had to play that role with my own uncle, you can bet I’ll pick and choose the time, and place, and the guy. Because no matter what, I will never lay there helpless and scared while some sweaty, fat bastard paws me, telling me to lay still and be quiet. Not ever again in my life will I do that!”
“Stop this, Freeda. Stop it!” Hannah yelled. “You’re making all of this up to justify taking Winnalee from me! What you said never happened. You’re lying!”