Etta Mae's Worst Bad-Luck Day

by Ann B. Ross

  “I don’t believe this,” she said, squinching up her eyes as she read it.

  “Believe it,” I said. “As you can see, I’m the one responsible for Mr. Howard now, so you both can go on back to Raleigh knowing he’s in good hands.”

  Valerie rolled her eyes so far back in her head, I wasn’t sure they’d ever get back to normal. Then she snapped, “What’re you going to do about this, Junior?”

  “Not sure I can do anything about it,” he said. “It all looks legitimate to me. I didn’t think the old geezer had it in him.”

  “Well, stop thinking and do something!” Valerie snapped.

  “I don’t know what you want me to do,” he told her. “As far as I can see, there’s not much to do.”

  “This just makes me sick,” she said, flopping back against her chair. “You make me sick, and this, this little gold-digging country hick makes me want to puke.”

  “Country hick!” I yelled. “Who are you to call me a country hick? I’ll have you know I’m a high school graduate and I have my certified nurse’s assistant degree, and I’m not somebody who just fell off a turnip truck! I own my own home and my own car and I have a good job, you slick TV bitch!”

  I stopped and tried to maintain. This was not going so good, mainly because I was letting things get out of hand. Valerie was only acting like I’d expected. It was up to me to keep a ladylike tone.

  “I’m sorry I said that,” I said, trembling from the effort to lie with poise and grace. “I hope, after you’ve thought about it, you’ll see that I can relieve you of your concern about Mr. Howard, and that you’ll see your way to accepting me as part of your family.

  “Now, I have to go and get my things together for the move. That’ll give you time to say goodbye to Mr. Howard, and I hope you’ll at least pretend to be happy for us, so you won’t be upsetting him.”

  I turned and started out of the room, more than ready to get out of there.

  “Just one minute,” Valerie said, like she was the queen of something. “I’m calling Ernest Sitton to come over here, and we’ll just see how legal all this is.”

  That put my heart in my throat, but I didn’t let her know it. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, and we can all have Emmett’s wedding lunch together.”

  • • •

  “Emmett,” I said, still trembling from the face-off, as I pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen. “Will your wedding lunch save for a while?”

  “Yessum, I guess. But it won’t save too long with all that mi’naise in everything. Them sammiches might need a little extra wrappin’ to keep ’em from gettin’ too hard to bite into.”

  “If you don’t mind, let’s put it all up and maybe somebody’ll feel like eating it for supper. I really do thank you, Emmett, for making something so nice on our special day, and I’m sorry it seems to be going all to hell.”

  And with that, I turned away, trying to fight the tears that stung my eyes.

  “Sorry, Emmett,” I said, getting a grip on myself. “It just looks like nobody’s happy for me. Us, I mean. I didn’t expect anybody’d be dancing in the streets, but I didn’t think everybody’d be against us.”

  “Mr. Junior an’ Miss Valerie give you a hard time?”

  I laughed as best I could. “You could say that. She ought to be riding a broom instead of that fancy little car out there.”

  “Don’t let her worry you,” Emmett said. “That jus’ the way she be. I never seen that woman happy for anybody, but I don’t talk about nobody, so don’t take what I say wrong. But I think that woman why Mr. Junior stay on them golf courses so much.”

  “You may be right. It’s a settled fact that I was worried about the wrong one all this time. I thought it’d be Junior who’d give me a hard time, but I’m thinking now that he’d come around if she’d get off her high horse.”

  “Mr. Junior all right. He a real nice man when Miss Valerie not around. But don’t tell him I say that. Nor her, neither.”

  “Don’t worry about me repeating anything, especially to those two. I just wish they’d go on back to Raleigh and let us get back to normal.” I wiped my face with my hand, trying not to smear what little mascara I had left.

  Then, remembering my other responsibility, I said, “Looks like Skip’s gone. He get off all right?”

  “Yessum, he say he roll that motorbike down to the street and crank her there, so he won’t ’sturb Mr. Howard. Seem like to me that some other folks ought to do the same.” Emmett rolled his eyes toward the drawing room. “When you reckon they take off from here?”

  “No telling. But I do know things aren’t going to get any better until they do, especially when I get back here with all my clothes and things. And that’s where I’m going now. Emmett, I don’t really know how to go about this, but I need to move in over here. Is there a closet I can use, and maybe a drawer or two? I don’t want to mess up the way you have things fixed, so if you’ll just find me a little space to put my things up, I’ll try to get settled in.”

  Emmett stood there, shaking his head from one side to the other. “Miss Etta,” he said, “that ain’t no way to do. You Miz Howard Connard, Senior, now an’ you jus’ tell me what you want an’ I fix it for you.”

  I stared at him, as I began to realize that Emmett was doing exactly what I’d wanted from this marriage, and he was the very first one to do it. He was giving me the respect that was supposed to come with my new name, and the realization of it lifted my head and straightened my shoulders.

  But I still didn’t know just what I was supposed to do with it, or how to act when it came. I smiled.

  “Wherever you think best, Emmett,” I said. “Let’s just hope that by the time I get back, those two in yonder will be gone.”

  “Maybe they will and maybe they won’t. Either way, you the Miz Connard now an’ you s’posed to be here, so you jus’ bring yo’ clothes and move right on in. Like you s’posed to be here. Which look like to me, you are.”

  “That’s right! I am supposed to be here. It’s what Mr. Howard wants, and last time I looked, this was his house and his right to say who lives here and who doesn’t.”

  I stopped and leaned against the counter, a sad thought coming to mind. “If he could talk so anybody could understand what he’s saying, there wouldn’t be this problem. He’d straighten it all out in a minute.”

  “You right about that,” Emmett said. “Mr. Howard sho’ know how to tell peoples what to do an’ how to do an’ he don’t take no back talk from nobody. ’Spec’lly from Miss Valerie, she watched herself ’round Mr. Howard when he the way he used to be. She jus’ get all bossy since he can’t say nothin’ she understand now.”

  “Well, I guess you and me’ll have to stand up for him, Emmett. We’ll have to let her know what’s what.”

  “Yessum,” Emmett said, turning toward a cabinet and taking out a box of Reynolds Wrap to cover the food. “Maybe that be yo’ job, Miss Etta. I don’t b’lieve I better let her know any what’s what. I got to get these sammiches wrapped up ’fore they not fit to eat.”

  “I understand, Emmett. I know you can’t say anything to her, but I sure do appreciate you backing me up and helping me and Mr. Howard. I know I’ll have to take her on by myself. I just have to remember that I’m standing up for Mr. Howard and doing his talking for him.”

  Emmett’s shoulders started shaking, and as he turned back to me, I saw him laughing. “No’m, Miss Etta, ain’t no way you do his talkin’ for him, least the way he used to do it. You didn’t know him when he ruled the roost ’round here, an’ lemme tell you, he a pistol.”

  Well, at least I could picture it, and it gave me the first real pleasure I’d had all day, the thought of Mr. Howard putting Valerie in her place.

  “I’ll just have to do the best I can,” I said, laughing with him. “But I better get out of her
e and get my things together. I’ll be back later this afternoon, after Mr. Howard wakes up from his nap.”

  I opened the door and started out.

  “Miss Etta? I mean, Miz Connard, ma’am?” Emmett came around the counter and held the door for me. “Ole Emmett happy for you. I know Mr. Howard think the world of you, an’ I jus’ wish you lots of years of good luck.”

  I swear, the day had been up and down, up and down. I had gone from feeling happy to feeling sad to feeling so mad I could’ve pinched somebody’s head off. But there was Emmett, calling me by my new name and wishing me what nobody else had done or would do. Except maybe Skip.

  I could’ve cried my eyes out. But I bit my lip, trying to hold it back, nodded my head, which was all I could manage, and went on to my car.

  Chapter 34

  Before going back to my trailer, I drove out Mill Run Road and turned off on the dirt road that led to Granny’s house. Red dust boiled up around and behind my car, and I had to roll up my windows and practically suffocate in the heat to keep from getting covered in it.

  I sailed right on past Boyce and Betty Sue’s house, feeling no need to visit with them. As far as I was concerned, they could take a flying leap, the way they treated Granny. Not that I’d let Granny know I felt that way—it’d just give her more reason to stay mad at them.

  I pulled up beside Granny’s house, parking under the oak that was covered with enough wisteria vine to make a shade for the front porch as well as the Camaro. I shook my head at the parched yard, brown and straggly from lack of water, and thought to myself that it wouldn’t hurt Boyce to come over and keep it nice for her. But Granny’s pots and cans of flowers on the porch were blooming all over the place. Granny couldn’t live without her flowers, and they got watered when nothing else did.

  Bless her heart, I thought, as I climbed the rickety steps to the porch, and decided to buy her some decent pots when we went to Walmart’s on Saturday. Every other flowering plant that lined the porch and sat on tables was planted in a Maxwell House coffee can.

  “Granny?” I called, opening the screen door and sticking my head in. “Granny? It’s me, Etta Mae.”

  “Come in here, young ’un,” she called back. “I been thinking about you all morning. Come give me a big ole hug.”

  She came running out of the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands on her apron. Wisps of white hair flew wildly about her wrinkled face, a mustard-colored smear was on her cheek, and her Reeboks left a trail of Red Band flour with every step she took. When Granny cooked, she went at it like Sherman through Georgia.

  “Watch where you step, sugar,” she said, holding out her arms, just beaming to see me. “Betty Sue’s been here again with that yapping little poodle of hers. Leaves dog doo all over the place. It’s a Tootsie Roll here, and a Tootsie Roll there, ’cept I can’t see good enough to find ’em. So watch where you put your feet.”

  Laughing, I hugged her, smelling old hair, bacon grease, and the Opium bath powder I’d given her last Christmas. She hadn’t known what to make of the name, but she’d liked the smell it gave off. She’d said, “Well, I’ll use it, but I won’t tell anybody what it is.”

  “What’re you up to, Granny?”

  “Gonna make me some fried pies. Got up this morning with a taste for ’em. Peach, I’m thinkin’. But what’s going on with you, coming to see me two days in a row? Let’s take a chair out on the porch. It’s too hot to be inside with the stove running and dog doo-doo everywhere. I declare, it’s past time for some cool weather. But we’ll pay for it, mark my words, when winter gets here.” Granny lived by the Farmers’ Almanac, so she knew what she was talking about.

  We went back on the porch, moving toward the shade of the tree and hoping for a breeze. She took a rocking chair and I sat in the swing next to her.

  “Well, Granny,” I said. “I came to tell you what I did this morning. Remember that old man I had in the car yesterday? The one you warned me about? Well, you’re looking at the second Mrs. Howard Connard, Senior, sitting right here on your front porch.”

  She put her hand to her mouth, and her eyes began to sparkle. Even the dull one with the cataract. “Child! Why didn’t you tell me? I oughta known it, though, there was something about that ole man that made me want to watch out for him. Well, the ole coot’s got better’n he deserves, gettin’ my sweet grandbaby. Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. I hope you don’t never have to work again. Land, I tell you, and you’ve heard me say it a million times, but a woman’s lot is a hard one even with a good man, without having to put up with one that won’t work, or that drinks or gambles it away when he does work. Love gets frittered away right along with the money that jumps outta his pockets, and I’m glad there’s gonna be somebody to take care of you now.”

  I laughed, brushing away a honeybee that’d gotten a whiff of my hair spray. “I don’t know, Granny. Looks like I’m going to be doing most of the taking care of, considering the state my new husband’s in.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. A man who can’t get outta bed but can still pay the bills is worth any of ’em healthy as a horse that can’t.” She reached over and patted my knee. “I’m happy for you, honey. You just enjoy that fine house and all them fancy cars and whatever else he’s got, and don’t let what anybody else says bother you.”

  “Well, that’s just it, Granny. His son and his wife have been so mean to me, especially her. I try not to lose my temper, but it’s hard.”

  “Why, you just lose your temper if you want to, honey. All the Bible says is don’t let the sun go down on your wrath. It don’t say nothing about when it’s shining. Sometimes you have to let folks know you’re not gonna take whatever they want to throw at you. You just cut loose if you need to. Put your foot down, and remember who you are, a Wiggins and now a Connard.”

  I laughed. “And a Taggert and a Whitlow. It’s about time I quit collecting husbands and their names.”

  “Don’t fret over that, either,” she said, pushing off her rocker with one foot. “Before you know it, you’ll be too old to care whether there’s a husband around or not, so enjoy yourself while you can.”

  “I want you to enjoy yourself, too. And just as soon as I can, I’m going to do something about this house. Have it air-conditioned, for one thing, and painted, too. And get you a clothes drier, so you won’t have to be hanging clothes out on the line in all kinds of weather. That old TV needs to be upgraded to a size you can see. And whenever you want that cataract operation, you just let me know. I’ll pay for it all. Mr. Howard will, I mean. You just tell me what you need, Granny, and I’ll see that you get it.”

  “Law, honey, I don’t need a thing. I got everything in the world anybody could want or need. You just enjoy that ole man, if he’s able, and if he’s not, well, just enjoy what he’s got. But,” she said, reaching over and patting me again, “you take care of him, too. An’ I know you will. You got a good heart, Etta Mae, and always have had. Why, I remember when you were just a little thing. Mean as a snake if anybody crossed you, but always sweet as you could be if you were treated right.”

  “I guess I’m still mean as a snake every once in a while.” What I’d done to Bobby Lee’s windshield came to mind, but I put it out just as fast as it’d come in. “Well, Granny, I’d better be going. Got to move to my new house today. I just wanted to stop by and tell you I’m a married woman again, and to tell you that I’ll be able to help you out a little more now.”

  “You just take care of yourself, that’s all I want. Now, before you go, come on back to the kitchen and let me cook for you. I haven’t cooked for you in I don’t know how long.”

  “I can’t, Granny, I’ve got to get on back. But I’ll bring Mr. Howard out one of these days and we’ll eat supper with you.”

  “You do that, honey. We’ll get us a mess of beans from the garden, and I’ll fry up one of them hens been scratching the yard all up.”


  “Mr. Howard can’t eat fried. Could you stew it instead?”

  “Why, honey, I do the best stewed chicken in two counties. And I’ll put some dumplings in with it, and anybody can eat that. Etta Mae, my garden made the best Big Boy tomatoes this year, but Betty Sue came and got all my ripe ones this morning. I’ll make her save some for you next time you come.”

  She stood up as I did, and I put my arms around her, feeling how little she was. And getting shorter, seemed like, every time I came. I smoothed her hair back and said, “Take care of yourself, and call me at Mr. Howard’s if you need anything.”

  I gave her another hug and slipped my last five-dollar bill into her apron pocket.

  Chapter 35

  When I pulled in beside my trailer, I didn’t see Skip’s Low Rider anywhere. It was a relief in a way. I needed time for myself while I packed for the big move. On the other hand, it was always good to know where he happened to be at any given minute, since wherever he was you could usually count on trouble being there, too. I swear, for anybody as basically sweet as Skip was, he could get into more trouble than anybody I knew. And not even know it, half the time.

  I went inside and jacked up the AC, wishing I didn’t have to face the mess that Harley and Roy had made of my things. But I did, and it was just as I’d left it with no sign that Skip had been there.

  I headed for the shower, shedding clothes as I went. Looking at the rip under the arm of my Kathie Lee dress, I was relieved to see it was along the seam, and easily mended. But I didn’t have time for that.

  After standing under cool water for fifteen minutes and getting my hair clean again, I felt a hundred percent better. I really wanted to wear my Dream Angels bra, but without the bikini panties to match, I decided against it and pulled on a set of sheer embroidered bra and panties in a basic nude color. I would’ve loved to’ve put on some capri pants or a pair of shorts, but figured with Junior and Valerie still around, I’d better go a little more formal.