“Nobody move!” Gabrielle yelled out when it was apparent no one was paying her any attention. Gabrielle turned to her aunt. “Aunt Cee-Cee, what is this?”
“It’s exactly what it looks like. It’s us moving in with you,” Aunt Cee-Cee said, placing a hand on her hip.
Gabrielle started shaking her head. “Uh-unh. No. That is not going to happen. You all need to turn right around and head right back to your own house.”
“We don’t have a house to head back to,” Jesse said as he strolled past her with two large suitcases in tow.
Gabrielle looked at her aunt. “What is he talking about?”
“Can we please go in the den and talk about this?” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“No. Nobody’s going anywhere until I find out what’s going on.”
“They foreclosed on our house, we were evicted, and we don’t have anywhere else to go,” Luke said, bringing in three suitcases. “Where should I put these suitcases? They’re Angie’s bunch.”
“Just sit it where you are,” Aunt Cee-Cee said. “Until we straighten out who will be where.”
“You’re not staying here,” Gabrielle said. “I don’t know how to say that any clearer. You can go to a hotel, a motel, the Y, or a shelter. But you can’t stay here. You can’t.”
“We can’t afford a hotel. There are too many of us for the Y or the shelter. And it doesn’t make sense, since we have family that has a place big enough to accommodate all of us where we can stay,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“We let you stay with us when you needed somewhere,” her uncle said when he came in.
Gabrielle looked at him, then had to look upward. “I know you didn’t just say what I think I heard you say. I know you didn’t.” She began to stare at him. “You’re not staying at my house. And you know full well why. He’s not staying here,” she said to Aunt Cee-Cee. “I’m telling you, this man is not staying in my house.” She turned back to her uncle. “Don’t force me to call you out in front of your family.”
“Honey, let me handle this,” Aunt Cee-Cee said to her husband. “Go get the rest of our stuff out of the vehicles.”
“No, don’t go get anything else out of anything. And you need to take what’s in here already and haul it right back to your cars, trucks, SUVs, whatever,” Gabrielle said.
“Mama said you were a Christian,” Angie said. “What kind of a Christian are you supposed to be?”
Gabrielle clenched her teeth. “Tonight we can definitely call me a WIP—work in progress.”
“Well, don’t it say somewhere in the Bible that when we didn’t have a place to stay, you opened up your home and gave us a place?” Angie said.
“What do you know about a Bible?” Luke said, laughing. “You’re just parroting what Mama said when we were getting ready to come over here. I told y’all I didn’t want to come here anyhow.”
“Well, where are you going to go?” Laura said. “You don’t have a job. You don’t have a girlfriend that will let you come and stay with her. Where you gonna go? Huh?”
“I have friends,” Luke said.
“You’re not staying with any of your hoodlum friends,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“None of them will let him stay with them anyway, and he knows it,” Angie said. “He just wants to feel like somebody likes him.” She popped her chewing gum three times successively. “What you got to eat in this house? We’re hungry. Mama told us we could eat when we got over here.”
“Gabrielle, please, just let us in first,” Aunt Cee-Cee said. “Then we can sit down and discuss this. We don’t have anywhere else to go. You know I’m telling the truth. You can’t just let us sleep out on the streets or out in our cars. We have a baby and small children here. Come on, now. Let’s see if we can’t work something out, at least for tonight.”
“Okay,” Gabrielle said. “But don’t bring all of your stuff in, just what you need to stay one night.”
“Sure, sure,” Aunt Cee-Cee said.
“Can you show me to my room?” Angie said to Gabrielle.
“Y’all are so trifling,” Laura said to no one in particular. “That’s why you won’t have to worry about me, Gabrielle. I just need to get the okay from my two friends saying I can rent out their extra room, and I will be out of here.”
The doorbell rang again.
“It’s open!” Gabrielle yelled with frustration.
“Hey. How are you?” Zachary said as he walked in and found Gabrielle in the midst of the crowd of people. “Are you having a party or something?”
Gabrielle threw him a look that more than expressed just how much she wasn’t in the mood to play. “Not tonight, Zachary. Not tonight,” she said.
Chapter 45
Produce your cause, saith the Lord; bring forth your strong reasons, saith the King of Jacob.
—Isaiah 41:21
Gabrielle grabbed Zachary by his arm and escorted him to the kitchen. “Do you believe this? I don’t believe this. This can’t be happening.”
“What is it?”
“They were evicted. Their house was foreclosed on, and they were put out on the street. And you know where they decided to come? Here with me. But they can’t stay here. They just can’t. I have too much going on to have to deal with this right now.” Gabrielle broke down.
Zachary pulled her into his arms and held her. “What else is going on?”
“Just before they all came crashing into my home, I got a call from the woman who adopted my daughter.”
“She called you? But how? I thought that was something sealed and couldn’t happen unless it was an open adoption.”
Gabrielle stepped back. “The woman is well-off. She has more than enough money and the means to do whatever she wants. Her little girl is in need of a bone marrow transplant. And according to her, it looks bad. She didn’t want to call me; she had to. My . . . her little girl is dying, and she will die, if they don’t find her a match.”
“Wow. You are having a rough time. I’m so sorry, Gabrielle. Did she tell you what it is, what the child has that’s requiring her to need a bone marrow transplant?”
“No. And I didn’t ask, because frankly it doesn’t really matter why she needs it; she needs it. That’s the only thing that matters : she needs it.”
“You’re right. So what do you need? What can I do to help you right now?”
Gabrielle’s body slumped. “How about getting these people out of my house?”
“You want me to? Because I can go in there right now and tell all of them to leave, if you want,” Zachary said.
She smiled. “It’s really not your problem. I’ll handle it. But thanks anyway.”
“Well, as much as I hate to say this, at least you’re talking to me again. I was beginning to worry you were trying to get rid of me.”
Gabrielle didn’t respond.
“All righty then. Well, we still have tickets to see The Color Purple tomorrow. What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh, Zachary.”
“We’re still going, right?”
She looked at him. “Did you not see all of these folks in my house when you came in?”
“I saw them. Either they’ll be here tomorrow or they won’t. Either way, that shouldn’t keep you from going to see a show you’ve been excited about seeing for the past month.”
She shuffled her feet a few times. “You know how much I want to see it.”
“Then I’ll pick you up around five?”
“Ah,” she said, bending her head back, looking up at the ceiling, then bringing her head back straight. “Yes. But make it five-thirty. I’m not going to allow them to steal this from me.”
“And I don’t mean to tell you how to handle your family, but I will tell you this. If you let them stay without a clear exit strategy agreed upon from the beginning, you’re going to find yourself with a real problem,” Zachary said.
“But they’re family.”
“And you’re not responsible for their well-being.”
“But aren’t I my brothers, sisters, aunt, uncle, and cousins’ keepers?” she teased.
“I don’t think that’s what that scripture is talking about. And before you say anything, I realize my sister has been at my house for a while, but I believe the two situations don’t even compare. My sister wanted her own place. I talked her into staying with me. Plus, she’s been a lot of help.”
“I know,” Gabrielle said with a whine. “And those people out there—”
“Excuse me,” Angie said, “but are you planning on cooking or ordering something to eat? We’re really hungry. And Mama said for you to bring her something to drink.” Angie left the kitchen.
“Ground rules and an exit date,” Gabrielle said. “Because they are not about to make me lose my religion.”
Zachary laughed as he grabbed her and hugged her. He placed her face gently between both his hands, pulled her head slowly toward him, then kissed her on her forehead. “If you need to, now, you know you can always escape to my house.”
“You’d better be careful with your invitations. I just might take you up on it.”
“But I was serious. If you need to get away, or if you need some peace and quiet, my house is your house.” He kissed her forehead again. “Oh, this is hard!” he said, realizing just how much he loved her, and how much he wanted to take her into his arms and literally whisk her away from all of this. “This is really hard.”
She looked at him. “Yeah,” she said, as though she knew exactly what he was talking about. “It is, isn’t it?” She bit down on her bottom lip.
Chapter 46
And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
—Ruth 1:16
Angela decided to go and visit Ransom Perdue at the nursing home and get this behind her once and for all. It had been two weeks since she’d first seen him, and she needed to quit letting her imagination get the best of her.
“Mister Perdue,” she said after he came into the lobby area. The nurses had called him to let him know there was a visitor to see him. She had used her great-grandmother’s name to help sway him not to turn her away as someone he didn’t know.
“Yes, ma’am, little lady.”
“It’s good to see you again. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met briefly when you visited Johnnie Mae Landris’s house about two weeks ago. I was leaving when you and your grandson were coming in.” She extended her hand to shake his.
He shook her hand. “Yes, I remember that face. What can I do for you?”
She sat back down. He sat down in the chair next to her. “As I told the nurse who called you, I’m Pearl Black’s great-granddaughter. I know that you and she were close friends.”
“That we were. Closer than most who were kin. Your great-grandmother was one of a kind. She was one who would stick by you no matter what. And it didn’t matter if you were blood or not. She was like Ruth with Naomi. You don’t run into folks like Pearl much anymore. She was a gentle woman who could get in your face if she needed to and get you told off without you even realizing you’d been told off until a little while later. I told her once that she could cut you and cure you with the same swipe of a blade. That’s the Pearl I knew. She was a beautiful woman, just like you. I hope me saying that ain’t out of order or doesn’t offend you.”
Angela smiled. “No, Mister Perdue, it isn’t and it doesn’t.”
“ ’Cause I know folks can be accused of sexual harassment nowadays, just for what they think was a compliment. I don’t mean no harm. Although, I will admit that a lot of stuff folks do nowadays and even back in my day goes a little too far. When I was coming up, it was all right to tell a pretty lady she was pretty. Now, you have to be careful. And please call me Gramps. Everybody else does. This Mister Perdue stuff messes with me. Unless, of course, I don’t know you; then Mister Perdue is right appropriate.”
“Okay . . . Gramps.” She smiled. “My great-grandmother was the one who raised me,” Angela said, “since I was a little girl. My mother died when I was five, and Great-granny stepped right in and took care of me just like I was her own child.”
“I’m sorry to hear that about your mother. And I know most times, it’s the grandmothers that do the stepping in.” He said it as though he was posing a question.
“My grandmother wasn’t around. It’s sort of a long story.”
“I know about long stories. I just learned a couple of weeks ago that what I believed to be true about my own mother wasn’t at all the truth. It’s something how folks can take a truth and turn it into a lie.”
“I remember my great-granny talking about you. She told how her mother was the midwife that delivered you. She said you had ‘gifted’ hands, that you could take a piece of wood and other material and make the most beautiful things out of them. I told her you were an alchemist. She liked when I used big words that she understood easily. I saw one of the boxes you made.”
“The Wings of Grace box,” Gramps said. “Those boxes I made all them years ago have almost made me into some kind of a legend. Is there anybody who doesn’t know about them?” he joked.
“They have become somewhat famous in their own right. Great-granny had the one apparently Sarah Fleming had given to her for safekeeping. That was how we met Johnnie Mae Landris. Great-granny was so excited. She’d never met an author before. She was so impressed that a ‘real live’ author had come to visit her at her house.”
“Mrs. Landris is an author?”
“Yes, sir. Except her books still carry the name she used when she first started out being published. I think she does that in order not to lose readers who may think the new books are by a different author other than herself. Her books are published under the name Johnnie Mae Taylor.”
“Well, I’m not real big on readin’. But I bought one book and have kept it with me down through the years. A book I got autographed by an Ernest J. Gaines fellow.”
“I bet I know which one it is. The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman.”
“Yep,” he said with a smile. “I came across that book and it rang so true for me. My copy is a little tattered, but I still have it. It’s in a trunk here with me now.”
“You were telling me about your mother and how you learned something wasn’t true that you believed to be true,” Angela said as she was trying to figure out how to bring up the topic of family with him. “I would love to hear about that. I mean, I heard Great-granny tell the story a few times about how you came to have the name Ransom.”
“Yeah, I heard that tale when I was younger. How my mother was giving birth to me. How the midwife, Pearl’s mother, had put scissors under my mother’s mattress to ease the pain. How she’d motioned for them to bring her the Bible, her turning the pages and pointing to a word in the Bible, thinking that any word in the Bible had to be a good word. How she died with her finger on the word ransom in Matthew 20:28. Told them that was my name. It was a good story, used to make me proud to carry around the name of Ransom. But I just learned that that story couldn’t possibly be true.”
“Why not?”
“My mother that supposed to have died during childbirth didn’t die. My mother was actually a colored woman named Adele Powell who had passed for white. When she learned she was pregnant, she knew it was her husband’s, but she was afraid if she gave birth to me in the white community and I came out even with a tinge of blackness, her husband would think she’d done something with a colored man. So she sought out the black community when she went into labor. She lied about why she was there. The midwife delivered me—”
“In truth, she was my great-great-grandmother,” Angela said when she actually thought about it.
He nodded, agreeing now that he’d thought about it in those terms. “Yeah. Anyway, she did what most colored folks did in cases like that. I guess to keep the lie from totally exploding
in anyone’s face, she made me up a birth past and found me a home. As a child, who’s going to question that? Especially back in those days. Some of the grown folks usually know the whole truth, but there was a time when children weren’t told grown folks’ business. We could be seen but not heard. And if no one ever told the real story, generations of folks grew up with lies or cover-ups presented as their truths.”
“Yeah.” Angela opened up her purse and slowly pulled out the photo of the man standing by a young version of her great-granny. “I found this in a box that Great-granny specifically left before she died.” She handed the photo to Gramps. “It must have been important or meant something special to her.”
He took it and adjusted his glasses better. He smiled. “That’s my old Pearl. She could be a little sassy when she wanted to be. I loved that woman, I truly did. God didn’t make many like Pearl, although I’ve found one woman in here with a little sass at times.”
“I agree,” Angela said. “Do you recognize that man standing beside her? Would that happen to be you?”
He frowned. “I’ve never seen this specific photo before,” he said. “You know Samuel L. Williams and I were the best of friends. Samuel always had my back. Good old Samuel.”
“Great-granny married Samuel Williams.”
“She did? Well, I’ll be. Pearl married Samuel? I never suspected that would happen.”
“Yeah. Samuel was my great-grandfather. They had four children.”
“Well, I’ll be. We all used to hang out together. The three musketeers: Samuel, Pearl, and me. We loved going to this place called Candy Land, hanging out at the Young Men’s Institute, especially the library. It was one of those books at the library that gave me the idea of making those wooden carved boxes folks call Wings of Grace. I saw something like it in a book.”
Angela pressed her lips together tightly. She had been mistaken. That was her great-grandfather in the photo. The man Arletha resembled was actually Samuel L. Williams. Well, at least she hadn’t mentioned her suspicions to anyone else besides Brent. She at least hadn’t tarnished her great-grandmother’s name or memory by blabbing her thoughts to the people who knew her great-granny, like her grandmother or Johnnie Mae.
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