by Dara Girard
"You're putting on too much," Mrs. Lind said.
Janet kissed her teeth annoyed. "I've hardly started."
"You sure you know what you're doing?"
"You'll have to trust us."
She was able to convince Mrs. Lind to let her use the eyebrow pencil to fill-in her eyebrows, which were almost non-existent. Next, she used the same pencil to outline her eyelids, top and bottom, giving them a sparkle. Pleased with the outcome, Janet used the pencil to outline and fill in her lips. She then added the more subdued dark raisin lipstick color as a topcoat.
The clever mixture created just the right shade for Mrs. Lind's dark skin. Janet then used the other lipstick as an eye shadow. She finished Mrs. Lind's face by applying a thin layer of the translucent powder then fixed the look with a spray of cold water.
Once the makeup was completed, they made Mrs. Lind try on the outfit and selected a pair of shoes from her limited selection. Then Beverly worked on Mrs. Lind's hair. It was thick and course, but she didn't want to press or relax it so she gave Mrs. Lind a hot-oil treatment and pulled her hair back into a bun.
"What do you think?" Janet asked Beverly as they stared at the finished result.
"She looks wonderful."
Janet opened the closet door where Mrs. Lind kept a full length mirror. "What do you think?" she asked her.
Mrs. Lind looked at herself. "It'll do," she said but they could tell she was very pleased.
* * *
That Sunday, Mr. Beecham walked up to the back of the house and knocked on the kitchen door. The smell of fried plantain and curry chicken was overwhelming, bringing back memories of his own dear wife, Matilda, and the lovely Sunday dinners she used to cook.
Mrs. Lind opened the door and looked down at what he was carrying. "Oh, dem vegetables look good," she said.
She looked wonderful. He'd never seen her like this before; he could hardly believe it was Mrs. Lind. Her hair was pulled back off her face and held in place with a gold headband. She wore a pair of small pearl earrings, a stylish, short sleeved wool top, and a pencil thin tweed skirt. He entered the kitchen and placed the basket on the table, unable to take his eyes off her. He cleared his throat feeling awkward. "Let me help you put them away."
Mrs. Lind pointed towards the food pantry. "Put dem in there. Do you like oxtail and butter beans?"
"Mi love it but haven't had it in years."
"Would you like some now?" She motioned to a seat.
He hesitated. "Are you sure? I don't want fi take someone else's share."
"I made it yesterday. I always make plenty. Please sit."
Mr. Beecham flung his coat behind the chair, washed his hands in the sink then sat. He knew he was staring, but lacked the energy or desire to stop. He watched as she ladled the food on his plate, appreciating her figure. Clifton was right. It would be nice to have somebody fi go home to. Fi go to bed wid.
Throughout the meal (she also convinced him to have some fresh papaya juice and rum cake) he practiced in his mind what he wanted to say, but let her do most of the talking. By the time he'd finished his dessert he had the words down, but they wouldn't come out.
Annoyed by his cowardice, he got up and put on his coat. He thanked her for the dinner, wished her a nice evening then left.
Mrs. Lind sat at the table staring at the dirty dishes feeling defeated. She slowly stacked them and placed them in the sink.
Janet came into the kitchen. "So what happened?"
Mrs. Lind turned on the faucet. "Him naym di food an' left."
"That's it?"
Mrs. Lind pulled on her plastic yellow gloves. "Dat was it. Him gone."
"But he can't be gone." Janet glanced at the object on the floor. "His basket is still here."
"But di man isn't."
"Never mind," Janet said, her tone sounding more hopeful than she felt. "This was only the first try. I'll think of something." She left the kitchen.
Mrs. Lind continued washing the dishes and then stacked them to dry. She was about to leave when she heard a soft tap on the door. She opened it and saw Mr. Beecham.
He shifted awkwardly. "I—"
"Yes, I know. You figet your basket." She turned and retrieved it then handed it to him. He looked at it then pulled her towards him and kissed her. When he drew away she only stared at him.
"Do you want to slap mi?" he asked.
"No."
"Laugh at mi?"
"No."
"Go out wid mi?"
"Yes."
"Marry mi?"
"Yes."
He lifted the basket that had fallen from her hand. "Good. I'll call you tomorrow." He turned.
"You not goin' fi say goodbye?"
Mr. Beecham looked confused then smiled. He kissed her again, this time covering her mouth with his and she kissed him back. Janet returned to the kitchen ready to share Plan B, but halted when she saw them. She quietly backed out of the room and pumped her fist in triumph.
"What are you doing?" Mrs. Barnett said, coming down the hallway.
"Nothing. Where are you going?"
Mrs. Barnett glanced down at the dishes she held. "Where do you think? Into the kitchen."
Janet reached for them. "Let me take those for you."
She moved them out of reach. "I can carry them myself."
"But I want to help you."
"Then move. Why are you blocking my path? I want to go into the kitchen."
"You can't."
"Why not?"
"Mrs. Lind is busy."
"Don't be stupid." Mrs. Barnett pushed past Janet and went inside. Janet shut her eyes waiting for her mother's outcry, but she didn't hear anything. She turned and peeked inside the kitchen through the slit created by the door jam and saw Mrs. Lind standing at the sink calmly washing the pots, as though nothing had happened.
* * *
But something definitely had and Mrs. Lind told the elder Barnetts about it.
Mr. Barnett stared at Mrs. Lind as though she'd turned purple. "You're going to get married to Mr. Beecham?"
Mrs. Lind sat in the living room calmly staring at both of them. She had expected this reaction, which was why she'd waited a week to tell them. "Yes."
"What do we know of this man?"
"It's not about you. It's about mi, and I know enough."
"Why do you want to go off and get married?"
"I want to live mi own life."
"You can have your own life here. You married before, wasn't that enough?"
"No. But you know what, I didn't come here fi argue wid you. I'm leaving Winston. You've been good to mi but it's time fi mi to be gone."
Mr. Barnett shifted in his seat, vexed. "You should have come to me first."
"I'm a grown woman, mi nah need your approval. Besides, I'm not your dawta. You should be keeping a close eye on dem, and not mi."
"What you mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
Mrs. Barnett spoke up before the two could argue. "I hope you'll be happy," she said, extending her hand to congratulate her.
"Tank you. I will. One day I hope fi pay you back fi all your kindness to me."
"Oh you don't need to worry. You've done plenty. We'll miss you."
Mrs. Lind hesitated then said, "Perhaps... perhaps you can come and visit." She knew it was a bold request. Mrs. Lind wasn't of their class and they'd likely have no reason to associate with her, especially with Mr. Barnett objecting to the marriage. But Mrs. Barnett took her hands and looked at her as equals and said, "Just tell us the day and we'll be there."
Tears sprung to her eyes. "Tank you."
Mr. Barnett, who hadn't moved from his position, threw up his hands. "But this is—"
Mrs. Barnett cut him a glance. "That's enough Winston." She smiled at Mrs. Lind. "It's settled."
Soon after, Mrs. Lind's engagement was announced in The Hamsford Daily. Two weeks later Mrs. Lind got married at the courthouse and moved in with her husband. Janet burned the sketches. Maxi
ne and Trudy stayed out of trouble, and Francine continued doing well at the Junior College she was attending as did Janet with her studies. Everything seemed to have settled into a nice routine until one day that changed.
Janet returned home from the university in high spirits and Francine greeted her at the door with bad news. "Dee-dee's singing."
Janet felt her spirits fall. "Where is she?"
Her mother's voice told her soon enough as her mournful song slipped out the door of the family room. "Oh Lord how I suffer for thee..."
Janet squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh no, not that one." She knew her mother only sang when she was unhappy and sang that song when she was especially disappointed and didn't want to discuss it.
Francine cleaned her lens with the corner of her shirt. "It's better than On My Way to Hell or Dying for You."
"Not much better," Janet said as she hung up her coat in the closet.
Francine put her glasses on. "You know she makes them up. I've never found any of her songs in a hymnal and I've looked."
"I know she makes them up, but she remembers every word." Janet sighed. "I'll talk to her." She set her backpack down then entered the family room where her mother sat staring out the window.
Mrs. Barnett glanced up at Janet, but continued her song. "Oh trouble comes to me..." she sang reaching a high note.
"Dee-dee what's wrong?"
"Such troubles I've seen..." She lowered her head. "She lost him."
At first Janet thought it was part of the song, but soon realized it wasn't. "What are you talking about?"
"He's gone."
"Who's gone?"
"Jeffrey Farmer. He's gone off with the Original. He's gone to Detroit. Something about a new opportunity or some such nonsense. I thought something would happen, but he left without making any promises."
Janet left her mother and sprinted upstairs. She found Beverly reading a book. "I can see that Dee-dee told you," she said before Janet spoke. She put her book down. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"With pity."
"I don't understand."
"There's nothing to understand. It's very clear. He's gone. He returned to Hamsford to accomplish what he meant to, and now he's moved on to better things."
Janet sat. "What's better than you?"
Beverly smiled. "You're sweet."
"No, I'm annoyed."
"Karen told me that his moving to Detroit was what he really wanted, and I have no right to claim him." Beverly went over to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "It wasn't like he gave me a ring, or even asked me to wait for him. And he didn't leave without saying goodbye." She held the paper out to Janet. "He sent me an email."
Janet scowled. "An email. How gallant," she said meaning the opposite.
"Read it."
Janet scanned the contents but didn't find anything to improve her mood. Jeffrey said how much he'd enjoyed being back in Hamsford and seeing her again and wished her the best of luck. She tossed the email on the bed. "No, this isn't him."
"Janet—"
"I refuse to accept this. He gave you all his attention. He bought that house. He showed all the signs of settling down here. How dare he waltz back into your life, sweep you off your feet then leave like this."
Beverly's eyes filled with tears. "Forget about it, Janet. I'm going to."
"No. You were meant to be together. Something doesn't fit and I'm going to find out what."
* * *
"Thank you for meeting me," Janet said to Karen as they sat in the university Student Lounge.
Karen looked around in distaste. She would have preferred more elegant surroundings, but planned to make this meeting short. The lounge was warm, but she refused to remove her cashmere coat. "I'm glad to clear up things."
"What is the truth about Jeffrey?"
"I told your sister."
"I'm asking you to tell me."
Karen flicked a crumb off the table annoyed by Janet's tone. "He's bought property there that he wants to develop. Jeffrey's a city boy at heart and Detroit suits him."
"So he left without saying goodbye?"
A bead of sweat slid down Karen's back. "No. He sent her an email wishing her the best."
"Pretty shabby treatment after months of courtship."
"Courtship?" Karen laughed. "I wouldn't call it that. When Beverly came to visit she spent most of her time with Tanya and me. Jeffrey occasionally joined us, but you know him. He was just being his over friendly self. I think your sister read more into his attention." Karen tugged on the collar of her coat feeling as if she were in a sauna but determined not to show it. "The truth is he didn't want to encourage her anymore. I didn't want to hurt your sister's feelings any further, so I didn't tell her everything."
"What?"
"He's currently seeing a female executive who he's known for several years. It's possible they'll get married. I know you had high hopes for your sister, but she's just not the one." Karen abruptly stood, afraid that if she didn't leave soon she'd faint.
* * *
Frederick sat on the edge of the whirlpool and stared at Jeffrey worried. His friend was withdrawn. Even the vibrant energy of their favorite sports club couldn't alter it. Usually after a game of basketball, where they'd rib each other and pretend to be sports stars, Jeffrey would be rejuvenated, but not today. Today his heart wasn't in it. Frederick frowned. Jeffrey had fallen harder for Beverly than he'd guessed, but the distance would do him good. It would give his friend perspective.
"Cecilia is here," Frederick said.
Jeffrey glanced at him, but didn't respond.
Frederick tried another tactic. "Your father would be proud that you're doing this," he said, referring to Jeffrey's new property. "This opportunity is a good bet."
"Yeah."
"Sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral."
Frederick finally got the reaction he wanted. Jeffrey's gaze sharpened. "You had other problems. Don't worry about it. I know I can depend on you."
"So you trust my judgment?"
"Of course. Always." He smiled, but the smile was fleeting.
* * *
"Now I understand," Beverly said when Janet told her about the conversation that evening. She watched Janet pace her room. "It's okay."
"How can you understand when I don't? Did he mention this woman to you? Did he mention wanting to live in the city?"
"No, but we didn't talk about personal things."
"You just talked about everything else."
"Yes. We were only friends like I am with Karen and Tanya."
"They are not your friends," Janet muttered.
"What?"
"Never mind."
"Accept the fact that he's never coming back. I have."
But Janet couldn't accept it and told Russell so as they sat alone in his classroom the next day.
"Don't be too surprised," he said putting his things away in a box. "Frederick rubs off on people. Your sister didn't measure up."
I never lower my standards, she remembered Frederick saying. "But I expected better from Jeffrey. I'm still determined that they belong together."
"Good." He pointed a thin paintbrush at her. "Don't let anyone take that fierce determination from you." He resumed his packing.
Janet watched him with regret. "I'm sorry to see you go."
"It's the end of the semester and my time to move on. I do have some good news. I have accepted a great position with The Detroit Art Institute. I promise to keep in touch. You have my email and phone number, don't you?"
"Yes, and you have mine."
Russell touched her cheek with a gentle caress. "I know."
* * *
Janet usually looked forward to winter break but she missed Russell's company and was worried about her sister. Beverly barely spoke at dinner. Each day she went to work, came home and after dinner went straight to her bedroom. She was hurting, but would never burden anyone with her pain.
"What's
wrong with her?" Mr. Barnett asked one evening when Beverly excused herself early from the table.
"Jeffrey's gone," Janet said.
"For good," Mrs. Barnett added.
"Oh," Mr. Barnett said with little interest. "Well, never mind a broken heart always mends."
However, Janet couldn't wait for her sister's broken heart to heal. One evening she lay in her bed, listening to her mother's mournful songs which mingled with the soothing voice of Elvis seeping from her father's study. Janet knew she had to do something. She searched her mind then came up with a plan. Two weeks later she burst into Beverly's room and shrieked, "Aunty Thelma said she'd love to have us come visit."
"What?"
"We're going to spend a week at her place. She lives in a suburb just outside Detroit, remember?"
"Janet—"
"I'll be on winter break and I know you have plenty of vacation time." She smiled. "Who knows what will happen?"
Chapter 29
Their father's sister, Thelma Nelson, was thrilled to see Beverly and Janet. She had a small house, lived alone and always welcomed visitors. She had been married but readily told people he'd gone on. Only a few people knew that Amos Nelson hadn't had the decency to die, but had left her for another woman. However, Mrs. Nelson wore black as though she were a widow; not because she missed him or wanted to deceive anyone, but because she thought that the color made her look slimmer and more elegant.
They spent the first two days sight-seeing and catching up on family stories. By the middle of the week, Janet asked permission to visit Russell.
"That's fine," her aunt said. "You've told me so much about him in your emails I feel as though I know him."
"Shouldn't we come too?" Beverly asked.
"You'll be bored," Janet said. "We'll probably just talk about art. I won't be completely alone with him. He has a studio at the Institute. I'll meet him there."
"I think that sounds like fun," her aunt said. "We'll find something else to do. Beverly, you could visit your friends here."