“And watch your language in my house!” she shouts.
Dog looks at me as if to say, What is up with her?
I shrug and look at the floor. “It’s really okay if you don’t feel up to having a stranger stay with us this weekend.”
“Don’t be silly. Go on and sign us up.”
Hells bells!
Later on, Jackson calls while I’m stretched out on my bed. Mama brings me the phone. Luckily, Dog’s been released from punishment, so he’s out in the living room watching TV.
“You still mad?” Jackson asks me.
“Hurt,” I say. “I wouldn’t never cheat on you like that.” And my nose starts in to stinging again.
“Come on, now. Don’t think of it like ’at. Cain’t you just be happy it made me realize I don’t need nobody else?”
“Maybe,” I say.
“It ain’t like I called her up and asked her out.”
“You kissed her.”
“I kissed her good-bye, and thinking of you the whole time and how different it is when we kiss.” His voice sounds all throaty. And suddenly I miss him so bad I can’t hardly stand it.
“You promise never to do it again?” I sniffle.
“Yeah, I promise,” he consoles.
“I guess I can forgive you then,” I say, but I still feel bruised inside.
I wanted us to be different, wanted us not to ever hurt each other, not to ever doubt.
“You glad to be home?” he asks.
“Always,” I sigh, and tell him about the weekend plan, wishing I could just relax instead of having to deal with a houseguest.
“Don’t you go falling for someone else now,” he teases.
“Who, Jimmy?” I ask all shocked. “He’s just a little shrimp. Besides, I couldn’t do that to Stef . . . or you.”
“I’m glad,” he says. “I wish it was me coming for a visit.”
“Me, too,” I say, twisting up the blanket between my fingers.
“One of these days,” he says.
“When?” I ask, knowing he’d ruther I didn’t.
He don’t say nothing. Then finally he goes, “I best run. Say hey to that Jimmy for me.”
“Oh, hush,” I reply.
Well, we did not get stuck with Jimmy the Great for the weekend, no, sir. He got placed with ol’ Miss Caroline. Now poor Stef ain’t got a chance in hell of slipping out for any hanky-panky. But I ain’t got time to be too worried about her. I’m more concerned for myself. ’Cause you see, what we got stuck with instead is some crazy seventeen-year-old guy named Hal who says he wants to be a preacher. That boy’s got his nose in his Bible all daggum day. And since it was supposedly my idea, Mama says I’ve got to spend time with him, join in on the group activities, and show him around. Stef is going to owe me big-time for this one. Personally, I believe Mama’s just trying to get me out of her own hair so’s she can woo old Denny Caterpillar. Yuck!
I’ve got to take Hal on down for the first church event. We ride bikes (he’s on Dog’s). This dude barely knows how to ride. His balance is all wiggly-woggly; he doesn’t know about standing up to get up the hill; he doesn’t even know how to jump the dang thing up over the curb. It’s embarrassing.
Even though it’s a short ride, I feel worn out by the time we get to the church. I’m about ready to tear into Stef. But she’s tagging along behind Jimmy looking like a pathetic little puppy. Suddenly, I ain’t got the heart. His face may be full of bumps, and he may have a two-dollar haircut, but when he takes hold of her hand, damn, I go green, wishing Jackson were here to take mine.
I try to hang back and just be an observer, using my inhaler treatments as an excuse, but the preacher pulls me in and makes me participate. It’s one event after the next—icebreaker games and acting out Bible stories and fixing a community dinner. By the end of the day, I have had it. I can see how happy Stef is, so I try not to hold a grudge for getting me into this mess. But I can’t help wondering how God chooses whose prayers to answer.
I’m glad I’ve got the excuse of nighttime to be left alone, except of course for Dog snoring in the next bed over. Him keeping me awake means I got all kinds of time to lay there and ponder what Jackson did. I just keep imagining him kissing this Mary Elizabeth with her stuck-up nose and bouncy hair. Granted I’ve got no idea what she looks like, but in my mind, she’s just petite and perky and perfect. I toss in the bed, trying to find a position where she ain’t square in the middle of my brain. Dog lets out an extra loud snore.
It takes me forever, but eventually I do drift off. Next thing I know, the day is lightening and I feel a body creaking onto the bedsprings behind me. I turn around and holy hell! That bastard Hal is climbing naked into my bed!
“Ahhhhhhh!” I holler my dang head off.
Dog jumps up. Mama runs in and flips on the lights. And there is pervy old Hal, naked as a plucked hen! And here I am still hollering.
Mama gasps, covering her mouth.
“What the hell’s a matter with you?” Dog yells at him.
Hal tries to look all innocent (which is pretty hard to do when you’re standing there in your birthday suit) and points at me like I had something to do with it!
Mama and I both gasp.
“You dare to imply—” I begin, but Mama holds up her hand.
“Pack up your things this minute. I’m calling the preacher. And for heaven’s sakes, get some clothes on!”
Hal slinks out of the room.
“Did he do anything to you?” Mama asks.
I shake my head. “I just woke up to find him slipping into the bed behind me.”
Mama sighs. “Y’all go on back to sleep. I’ll handle this.”
But ain’t nobody going back to bed now. Dog goes to the closet and pulls out his baseball bat.
“That ain’t gonn’ be necessary,” Mama warns.
“I know,” says Dog, and goes out to the living room with the bat in hand.
“You okay?” Mama asks.
I nod, still feeling shook up.
“You can go on back to bed if you like, or if you’d ruther, come on out to the kitchen and soon as we get rid of that boy, I’ll make you some hot cocoa.”
I stay real close to Mama as we go out to call the preacher. It seems right sweet the way Dog’s acting all protective.
I can tell from Mama’s end of the conversation that Preacher Paul thinks I had something to do with the goings-on in my bed, which ticks me off to no end. Nonetheless, he comes to get Hal and takes him back to his own house. And my church obligations are over for now. Amen.
Mama, Dog, and I sit up drinking cocoa, and somehow something’s changed between the three of us. We don’t got to talk about it or nothing. But it’s kind of like when me and Mama are at the hospital. It’s Us against Them.
“I’d a taken that bat right to his head if you’d needed me to,” Dog assures me.
“Thank you.” I smile.
He cuts on the TV and we all watch cartoons on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket. We haven’t done that since Dog and I were little.
But word spreads quicker through a church than chicken pox through a preschool, and before long the phone is ringing off the hook. I let Mama and Dog deal with it. Through one of them calls, we come to find out Stef tried to sneak into ol’ Miss Caroline’s to rendezvous with Jimmy. I can’t even believe she’d be that bold. When Miss Caroline found them in a compromising position, Jimmy went and blamed it all on Stef, and now they ain’t even talking! There’s some strange irony right there. I’m just grateful this weekend is coming to its end.
When the phone rings again, I notice Mama’s voice sounds different. It doesn’t take long for me to figure who she’s talking to.
Dog watches her awhile, then turns to me. “We in trouble, now, sis. I can just see it coming.”
“Denny Caterpillar,” I say, nodding my agreement.
And Dog answers, “Lord save us all.”
22
Mama sure does act weird when o
ld Denny comes around. I don’t get it. ’Cause if she plans on staying together with him, doesn’t she think he’s going to come to find out what she’s really like? How long can she keep up the fakey laughing and all that mess?
I go hide in my room and read through some printouts I made at the library about course choices for that program in the mountains. I know it’s only dreaming. But I reckon if you go on and act like something is real, sometimes it just believes you. Next thing you know, there it is staring you in the face.
Stef calls on the phone, sounds like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Jimmy broke up with me,” she sobs.
“What all happened?” I ask.
“That night he was in town, we met back behind Miss Caroline’s.
I figured we’d be safe meeting outside. We were a ways past kissing when she came down, though she should rightly have been asleep by then. Jimmy said it was all my idea, like he had nothing to do with it, as if I dragged him out of bed and forced him outside. I was so mad! But then, after he left, I called him in Georgia and asked him why he did that. He ignored my question and said he didn’t think we were right for each other.”
“No!”
She sniffles. “Why would he say that?”
“Oh, Stef, you deserve better.”
“But I wanted him,” she sobs.
“I’m sorry, hon.”
“I’ll get over it. Enough about his sorry butt. What’s going on with you?” she asks.
“You sure you’re gonn’ be okay?”
“Yeah. Just distract me. Tell me what all is happening in your life.”
“Listen to what Joie said when I called her from the hospital,” I say.
“What?” Stef asks halfheartedly.
I launch into a slightly dramatized version of the conversation.
“Some friend,” Stef cries. “Can’t trust anybody.”
“V!” Denny calls from the kitchen. This is a new nickname he came up with for me, and he has stuck to it like white on rice.
“I better go,” I say. “Feel better.”
I come out there to find Mama and Denny all giggly and looking at me like they’ve got some big secret or something.
“What?” I ask, feeling edgy around their swooning.
They stare at each other, grinning like a couple of cats that ate the canaries.
“Are y’all planning on spilling the beans or what?” I ask.
Finally, Mama glances up at me from where she’s sitting at the table, her feet up on a chair and she goes, “Denny, you go on and tell her. It’s your surprise.”
He’s washing up their supper dishes (I ate in my room), and he says, “That’s a’ight. It was your idea.”
“And . . .” I encourage, hoping they’ll get on with it.
“Don’t you be sassy,” Mama says. “We got a nice surprise for you.
So just keep your shirt on.”
I sigh and try my best not to roll my eyes, quite frankly afraid to hear what it is they expect me to be all fired up about.
“Denny’s in real bad need of a painter this weekend, got a job and one man short,” she says, looking at me all knowingly.
“So?” What in hell has this got to do with me? I know they don’t expect me to be out there working in this heat.
“I’m surprised at you. Don’t you see?” Mama asks, all excited. “It’s the perfect chance for Jackson to come down for a visit.”
My heart starts to beating real fast, but I know I ain’t got a prayer. “Thank y’all for the thought,” I sigh, “but his mama wouldn’t never let it happen.”
There they go, grinning at each other again. Denny dries his hands on a dishtowel and takes over the seat where Mama’s feet were at. He starts to rub them for her.
“What?” I ask, sensing there’s more to this story.
“Denny done called Jackson’s mama already,” she squeals.
“Are you for real?” I ask, afraid to get my hopes up. Mama nods all excited. “What did she say?”
“Well, now,” Denny begins, “she was hell-bent on saying no when I first brung it up—’scuse my language, darlin’,” he adds to Mama.
Get on with it, I’m thinking, struggling to hold my tongue.
Denny continues, “I told her he had a reputation for being a reliable hard worker and that’s just what I was needing real bad. I promised her he’d get a nice paycheck and that I’d keep an eye on him while he was down here.”
“And she said yes to that?” I ask, disbelieving.
He shakes his head. “Not at first. Till then she was still stuck on that no.” He chuckles. “I assured her it would just be for the weekend, that we’d have him home by Sundy night. And then I added the real kicker, gave her the good ol’ Southern mama kinda guilt saying how I admired the way he’d been working so hard to help her out since his daddy passed.”
My mouth is literally hanging open. “How did you . . . I mean, where did you . . . ?” I can’t seem to find my words.
Denny chuckles, all proud of himself. “Course I told her I knew of him through you and that you’d filled me in on things.”
Ho-ly cow! “He’s coming?”
“This very weekend,” Denny says.
“Oh—my—gosh! I mean, thank you, both of y’all. I can’t even believe it! What time will he be here?”
“Slow down, girl,” Denny laughs. “He don’t even know yet hisself.
His mama’s fixing to tell him when he gets home from work this evening. He’ll drive down Fridy afternoon. I told his mama he can stay with me if ’n his kin don’t want him.”
“They made up already. So I’m sure it’s fine. But thank you, thank you!”
Some kind of crazy rush of something goes roaring through my chest. I feel like I’m going to explode from excitement. Before I even know what I’m doing, I run over and give Mama and even ol’ Denny a hug. Then I run to my room, slam the door shut, cover my face with a pillow, and scream just as loud as I can.
Time is ticking by as slow as a donkey in the plowing field. Jackson should be on his way into town this very minute. Me and him are meeting for dinner at Eddie’s Diner at six o’clock, like a real date. I’m just sick with worry about whether things will be different between us because of Miss Petite Perky Perfection.
Mama extended my curfew till eleven thirty, long as I promised no hanky-panky. And then, even though Jackson’s got to paint tomorrow, I can still hang out with him over at the site, maybe help him out some. Soon as he’s done, we’ve got the rest of the day together. He’ll have to do a second coat on Sunday and then head home. But he’s coming for real, and I know I am just rambling on, but Lord am I excited. I believe I’m going to go change my clothes again; I can’t seem to find the right thing to wear. That sundress I wore to the church picnic looks the best on me, but after what happened that night, I believe it may have some bad juju.
I done fixed my hair and makeup fifty-eleven times already. Don’t nothing seem perfect. The entire contents of my half of the closet are strewn across my bed. Makeup and hair products are positively littering every inch of space in the bathroom. DC (Denny Caterpillar—I can make up nicknames, too) is sitting out in the TV room giggling at my histrionics.
“Savannah, can you at least try to act normal?” Dog shouts through the bathroom door. “I got to go! Clear out.”
“In a minute,” I call.
“Dog, what are you hollering about?” Mama asks.
“Chaps my butt the way she thinks she’s the only one lives here.
The world don’t stop just ’cause her boyfriend is coming to town. I need to go.”
Mama knocks on the door. “All right now, shug. Give it a rest.”
I was done anyhow.
“You look right beautiful,” Mama says as I open the door.
However I look, I know it’s got to be better than the last time Jackson saw me, since that was out at the hospital in Wilmington.
&
nbsp; Finally, five thirty rolls around and I head out to walk into town. I make sure to take my inhaler with me, not wanting nothing to screw up our evening.
“You ain’t leaving already, is ya?” DC asks, looking at his watch.
“I don’t want to mess up my hair riding my bike. So I’m gonn’ walk,” I explain.
“We’ll give you a lift in my truck,” he says. “Sit tight while I call the office a minute, then we’ll go.”
I can’t say no to that. Walking out in this heat is the last thing I want. DC goes into the kitchen to talk on the phone.
“What are y’all doing tonight?” I ask Mama, trying to pass the time like a sane person.
“We’re going over to the isle for a nice dinner,” she says, blushing.
I swear she reads my mind, ’cause then she goes, “Don’t think that means y’all are allowed to hang out here without supervision. I’ll be home by nine anyhow.”
“You and DC are getting along real well, huh?” I say, trying to be nice.
“DC?” she asks.
“He can call me V, I can call him DC,” I say.
“What’s the C for?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I shrug her off. “What were you saying about him?”
She turns to hide a smile. “He’s just good people, Vannah. Wants to treat me all the time, help with the washing up, even at work he makes me feel like a queen. He does get awful short-tempered with his crews, but he never takes it out on me.” She waves it away. “I guess I just ain’t used to somebody wanting to treat me all special like that without wanting something in return.”
I always forget. She don’t have nobody taking care of her. She’s all the time looking after us. Ain’t nobody but Gina looking out for her, and Gina’s hands are near about as full as Mama’s.
“How long’s he gonn’ be on the phone?” I ask, getting impatient.
“You don’t need to show up twenty minutes early,” she says.
I just want to get there already. Course if Jackson’s late I might just lose it. He could still be on his way from Greenville for all I know, Friday traffic and all.
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