“Well, you coming over got me out into the real world. I never liked being an only child.”
Awilda blew on Bea’s toes. “Still, I’d never do that to Amare.”
“I love that boy. He’s so good with Chico.”
“Yeah, my boy is going to be somebody. Despite my mother trying to get me to abort him. Now she worships the ground he walks on. At every game.”
“Okay, this conversation is going in the toilet. I thought you came over to make me feel good?”
Awilda admired her work. “I’ve painted your old crusty toes.”
“Do they look good? You know I can’t even see my lady flower anymore.”
“How do you know it’s clean?”
“I can wash it, fool, I just can’t see it.”
Awilda held onto the end table and pulled herself up to a stand. “They look good, just don’t move until they dry because I’m not getting down on this floor again. Man, I’m getting old.”
“You have the remote. What do you want to watch?”
“Something trifling.” Awilda clicked on the television and the surround sound from the TV burst into the room. “Damn, that’s a beautiful picture. When the hell did you get a new television?”
“Girl, it’s Lonnie’s pride and joy. I can barely work the thing. He bought it as a birthday gift to himself last month.”
“I know where the next Super Bowl party will be. Can’t have ya’ll over now watching my floor-model tube.”
“No way. I wouldn’t miss Derrick’s hot wings and those barbeque shrimp for anything in the world.”
“We can certainly bring them over.” Awilda chuckled. “This picture is everything.”
They watched a reality show on VH1 that Bea would have never caught on her own but once they started it, she couldn’t tear herself away.
“So, wait, who is her baby’s father?”
Awilda pointed to the screen. “He is, but he’s also married to her sister.”
“What?”
“I told you. Ratchet.”
They watched two more episodes of the show before Bea called it a night.
“So glad it’s the weekend.”
“Who you telling?”
“You might as well come up and sleep in the playroom.”
“This is good right here.” Awilda patted the leather chair. “Just throw me down a pillow.”
* * *
Bea woke up to the smell of buttermilk pancakes and coffee. Her belly felt heavy as she pushed herself to look at the digital clock on her nightstand. Man. She hadn’t remembered sleeping so late in weeks. Perhaps it was because she had the whole bed to herself, she thought, tying her robe around her.
Lonnie was home. She could hear him laughing with Awilda in the kitchen. Bea took her time brushing her teeth, combed her hair into a neat ponytail, and washed her face while humming a tune that was in her head. When she trudged down the stairs, Lonnie smiled.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Lonnie reached for Bea and folded her into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“You do see me standing here,” Awilda cracked. She wore a long T-shirt and leggings. Her bushy hair was all over her head. A plate of pancakes, eggs, and a mug of coffee sat in front of her. Bea craved the coffee.
“Is this decaf?” She lifted Awilda’s cup to her nose.
“No dear, the real thing.”
Bea took a gulp. “So good. As soon as I drop this little girl I’m going to have coffee for a week.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“Everything is fine with me but Mena had a relapse.”
“With the cancer?”
Bea nodded her head. “She’s a mess.”
“We should go over there.”
“Yeah, I told her we would. She said Clark would throw something on the grill.”
“Speaking of grills. What’s the plan for your birthday, Bea? We need a party to come to.”
“We aren’t having a barbeque this year. It’s too much.”
“You have it every year. Everyone looks forward to it. It’s like a national holiday.”
“Actually,” said Lonnie, “I’ve come up with an idea that might work.”
Bea threw him a look. The last thing she wanted was a bunch of people parading around her house and yard, leaving a mess that she would have to clean up.
“I’m hiring everything out. The food, the cleaning, everything. This year we will just mix, mingle, and not lift a finger.”
“Ooh, big spender,” Awilda teased. “I’m scared of you.”
“Lonnie, I don’t need all of that.”
Awilda did her best impression of the old lady in the subway scene from the movie Coming to America, when Akeem was trying to get Lisa to marry him. “Go ahead, honey, take a chance.”
Bea cracked up. It was one of their favorite movie scenes and always made them laugh.
“I feel like I’m being set up. I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” Awilda pushed.
“I’ll take that for now,” coaxed Lonnie.
“You still have to make a pot of chili for the chili dogs, Lonnie. Don’t outsource that.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You know that’s the North Plainfield tradition, baby.” Lonnie high-fived Awilda.
“Woot-woot, Canuck.”
“Two cornballs.”
“You missed out on the fun, Bea, going to that all-girls Catholic school.” Awilda made a face.
“Even if I went to your high school I wouldn’t have hung out with either of you.”
“Then you would have been bored because we were it.”
“Only has-beens still talk about high school a million years later.”
Awilda turned. “Lon, did you hear about Lolita Bravehardt?”
He shook his head.
Awilda filled him in on one of their old classmates and before she knew it, they were having a conversation all by themselves. Bea watched the ease with which they communicated.
Chico ran into the kitchen. “Ma, can I play the Xbox?”
“For one hour.”
“You time him?” asked Awilda.
“I have to or that boy will be on the game like it’s a part-time job.”
“That’s how Amare is too.”
“Wilde told me about the home invasion. Why didn’t you call me?” Lonnie suddenly remembered.
“It’s not like you could come back. You were in the air when I found out and I didn’t want to worry you.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here. You know I took karate.” Awilda put her legs in the stance position and karate chopped the air.
Lonnie mimicked a karate move and the two went back and forth chopping each other.
“Children.” Bea smiled.
“Okay, family, my work here is done. I’ve got a shitload of things to do today. Enjoy your Saturday.”
Awilda left the kitchen and Bea could hear her calling out her farewells to the kids.
“I missed you.” Lonnie caught Bea’s eye. He wore an orange polo shirt that brought out the undertones of his skin.
“Honey.”
“When’s the last day of school?”
“Tuesday.”
“We should go somewhere. Do we have plans for Fourth of July?”
“I can’t get on a plane in my condition.” She started removing the dishes from the island and stacking them in the sink.
“What if it’s someplace we can drive to? Like D.C. You love D.C. I’ll see if I can get tickets to the Nationals game. The kids would love that. We could ride through the old neighborhood.”
Bea felt happy all over. When things were good between them, they were amazing. With all of her doubts about Lonnie, he was a family man at heart and that’s all she had ever wanted in a husband. A man who was the opposite of her father: present and involved with his children. Her mother was right. Bea was lucky.
“Okay, if that’s
what you want.” She started washing the dishes. He was behind her at the sink with his face nestled in her ear. Bea thought of the last time they were in this position and how uptight she had been, worrying over the dirty dishes and the kids walking in. She pushed herself to relax in his arms.
Lonnie licked her lobe. “What I want is to throw you a birthday party.”
“Babe.”
“Please, Bea, it brings me joy to celebrate the woman of my life.” His hands traveled up to her breasts and cupped them both while kissing her neck. She tried not to squirm.
“Please,” he breathed.
“Okay. Just don’t go overboard.”
“When do I ever go overboard?”
She turned toward him and kissed his lips. “Don’t. I mean it. Keep it simple.”
NINE
Anything But
Bea woke on the morning of her birthday party. It was the official first day of summer and she felt sweaty and off-center. She couldn’t put words to what she was feeling. Dread maybe, but that didn’t sum it all up for her. Hungry for sure. On Wednesday, she and Mena had gone in for a doctor’s visit. Dr. Spellman knew Bea well enough to read in her body language that she had not attended the support group.
“End of pregnancy is the hardest time and you need a lifeline, Bea,” she implored.
“I’ve been doing great,” Bea coaxed. “Things are going well.”
When Dr. Spellman realized that she couldn’t convince her, she switched tactics.
“At the very least download an app to track your calories.”
That Bea could agree to. Two thousand, five hundred calories was her maximum per day, but it was her birthday party and she wanted a slice of her cake. Bea decided to give herself an extra three hundred calories just for the occasion. Big events made it hard to stay focused on her goal of not overeating, but she was determined to take it slow. She had been anticipating a good Cuban sandwich, Derrick’s barbeque shrimp, and a scoop of Awilda’s potato salad all week. She got out of bed, hoping Awilda had remembered to ask Derrick about the shrimp. Her mobile was on the nightstand so she sent her a quick text.
When she got downstairs and looked out into her yard, she could see that Lonnie had indeed gone over the top. Purple, white, and pink balloons swung high in the air. A bouncy house had been set up for the kids on one side of the yard, with seating in the middle and the food stations and grill to the left. Lonnie had also set up a game section for the kids with a real poker table and dealer, horseshoes, and a chessboard. As Bea watched Lonnie with his clipboard directing traffic, she wondered if the party was really for her or for him.
She made herself two boiled eggs (140 calories) and smeared an English muffin with a tablespoon of peanut butter (200 calories). She’d have to eat a salad for lunch with no dressing to stay on track. She wondered where the children were as she ate her breakfast in silence. After she straightened up the kitchen, she was antsy. If she went into the yard, she would get involved with the party preparations and that was the last thing she wanted so she decided to go for a walk instead. The exercise would help with the extra calories. Bea moved from the kitchen to the mudroom where she kept her sneakers. On the bench she slipped her sneakers on but she couldn’t reach past her belly to tie them.
“Chico?” she called.
“Yes.”
“Come here, son.”
“Where are you?”
“In here.”
He appeared in the doorway, moving his fingers over his phone.
“Can you tie my shoes?”
“Really, Mom?”
“Really, son.”
He knelt down and tied them. “Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
“Can I come?”
Bea tried masking her surprise by keeping her eyes even. “Yeah, sure. What’s Alana doing?”
“In the yard helping Daddy wipe down the chairs.”
“Okay, let’s sneak out.”
It was rare that Bea got to spend time with Chico alone. He was always more interested in his electronics or following his father around. Baseball was winding down and swim practice had begun two weeks ago. Already he had a shade of a tan.
“Someone hasn’t been applying the sunscreen before swimming.” She tugged on his ears. He always needed a haircut.
“I do, sometimes,” Chico confessed.
“Mmm. Did any of your classmates try out for the team?”
“Nope.”
“Do you recognize any of the kids from school?”
“Like one boy, he sits at my lunch table. But that’s all.”
“Is it diverse?”
“There’s another brown kid on the team. They call him KJ.”
Bea treaded lightly. As a parent, she wanted to empower her son with a strong sense of self without burdening him with her experience of race and color. On the one hand, she understood that kids saw other kids as age mates, but on the other, she was protective and concerned about him being mistreated. She needed to make sure that he was okay as a minority in this new town, because sometimes she wasn’t.
“How does that make you feel?”
“Weird sometimes.” He jumped to catch an imaginary football, then used her back to do a spin move. “Like I just wish I was white. Like Daddy.”
“Your dad is Cuban and Italian, son. You know that.”
“He doesn’t speak Spanish.”
“That’s because no one taught him, but that doesn’t change his heritage.”
“Still.”
Bea’s jaw tightened. “Go on.”
“I don’t know. Don’t take this the wrong way, Mom, but it just seems easier.”
They turned the corner and started moving toward the park. Bea’s thoughts were racing. She took a breath and concentrated on saying the right words.
“Chico, you have a lot of wonderful blood mixed up inside of you—”
“We were watching The Watsons Go to Birmingham at school last week and everyone was looking at me,” he interrupted.
“I like that movie, it’s an important moment in the history of this country.”
“It’s all a bunch of fighting.”
“Sometimes you have to fight, son. If you don’t stand for something you will fall for anything. Do you know who said that?”
“Nope.”
“Malcolm X, and he was a man about change.”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“I still have his autobiography, somewhere. I think I read it when I was in eighth grade. Maybe we can read it together.”
“Can we swing by the basketball court so I can see if anyone is there?”
Bea knew that it was all he could handle in one conversation.
“Sure.” She ruffled his hair.
The seed was there. She needed to keep talking to him. She needed to give him more history lessons and make her son proud of the shoulders he stood on, instead of ashamed.
* * *
The party was in full swing by the time Mena and Clark arrived. Mena looked great in her pink shift dress and hair extensions. When she spotted Bea lounging in her special chair, decorated with pink ribbons and two floating HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloons attached to it, she finger waved and then made her way over. Clark was in tow.
“How’s my princess doing?” He dropped his hand over Bea’s belly.
“She might be into trucks and balls.” Mena teased him.
“Your baby is doing wonderfully. I can feel the kicks up here. I think the doctor will tell us on the next visit that she is almost in position and ready to join your family.”
“Bea, you’re making us so happy.” Mena squeezed her hand.
Clark stood. “Where’s my boy?”
“Probably somewhere either directing traffic or playing horseshoes.”
Clark headed off and Mena dropped her head onto Bea’s stomach. She whispered to the baby. “Hello there, it’s Mama. I can’t wait to meet you and kiss all of your fingers and toes. Mama loves you.” When she sa
t up, she had a shine to her face. “I can’t wait to hold my baby, Bea. You have no idea.”
“I know. It’s going to be life changing. You ready?”
“I’m so ready.”
“That’s what we all say. We never really are, but that’s the beauty of it.”
Mena moved her seat closer to Bea. “I need to talk to you about something.” Her eyes were serious.
“Okay.”
“Bea, I want to compensate you for this.”
“Mena there’s no…”
“Hear me out. I was thinking it could stay between us. I want to give you a little something for a rainy day. Lonnie and Clark do not have to know.”
“Mena, I can’t take your money.”
“Listen, I looked up the going rate for surrogates and the price is astounding. We talked about this in the beginning.”
“And Lonnie and I both agreed that we didn’t want your money.”
“This isn’t about what Lonnie wants,” Mena said sternly.
Bea looked at her.
“Honey, I know you have done this out of the kindness of that big old heart of yours. But please, let me do something for you that will make me feel good. Please don’t make me beg, Bea. It means a lot to me.”
Bea tapped Mena’s hand. “Okay, Mena, whatever you want.”
“Thanks, Bea. Thanks for seeing things my way.”
They sat back and watched the crowd. The music was Latin funk and three little girls stood in the middle of the grass and danced. Bea caught a glimpse of Awilda walking into the yard. As always, Awilda looked like it was her party. She was alone and moved with confidence in a baby doll dress that stopped three inches above her knee, with big, natural hair and a fiery lipstick. Bea would kill to look that good in this moment. Next to Awilda, she felt like Humpty Dumpty.
“Clark and I would like for you and Lonnie to serve as godparents.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There is no better godmother than the one who has carried my child. If anything was to ever happen to me, Bea…” Mena’s voice trailed.
“Hey, don’t think like that, Mena. You have to stay positive. How are the treatments going?”
Mena shook her head and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Bea noticed Joney moving through the yard, sure-footed and stunning. Bea reached her hand up and waved. Joney smiled brightly and waved back, tumbling her hair behind her.
And Then There Was Me Page 8