“Yeah,” Ethel said. “I don’t want to hear the name of that hypocrite. Wait till I see that man again.”
“I wish I could fix it, Ethel, but I know I can’t. You’re not the only one who wants to see Reverend Collins.”
The storm subsided, and after their supper, Krista climbed through the window, unlocked Ethel’s kitchen door and put her shoes back on. “My butt’s getting too big for this window,” she said to herself, checking to be certain that she hadn’t ripped her jeans. “Gee, miss Ethel, wouldn’t it make sense for you to give my mom a key? If you got sick in here and I wasn’t around to get through that little window, somebody would have to break down your door.”
“I thank you for letting me in, Krista, and I’ll sure think about what you said.” She rubbed her hands up and down her sides. “Maybe Fred’ll come back. I don’t know.”
Krista stared at Ethel. “You mean you’d take him back after he’s been living over there with miss Armena? If it was me, I’d kick his…behind.”
“You think like that ’cause you still young and pretty. Ain’t no man wants me at my age.”
Krista’s face creased into a frown. “You don’t look that old to me. Gotta go. Bye.” Maybe she should ignore Jada’s fooling around with her father. Carla might leave him if she knew about it, and she didn’t want to hurt her father. Still, Jada should leave him alone.
Krista’s concerns about Jada were no less than Goodman’s. Jada had the job she wanted, thanks to his recommendation, and he prayed that that would satisfy her. He had spared no words in telling her that he didn’t intend to give any woman money, that he meant to use what he had to educate his three children. He planned to be more creative in making love to his wife in the hope that she would help him put some sparkle, some passion in their marriage. He realized from his sexual encounters with Jada that his wife was indeed a cool woman, not cold, but definitely not hot. Jada was hot, but he’d finished with her; he’d had to, and not because she was becoming overbearing; she had been on the verge of becoming an addiction.
Goodman looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last half hour. His studio door swung open, and his accountant swaggered in as if he didn’t know he was thirty-seven minutes late.
“One of these days, you’ll keep your appointments on time,” Goodman said. “What do you have for me?”
“Sorry, Goodman. The traffic, you know. Now. Your daughter is a year and some months older than Peter, and that’s the problem.” They struggled with figures and options for nearly two hours and, in the end, Goodman had a plan that suited him.
Later, he called Krista. “Can you come to my studio now? Get a taxi, and I’ll meet you at the front of the building with the fare.”
“Yes, sir. Should I dress up? I’m wearing jeans.” He told her to come as she was, locked the studio, and went down to the building’s front door to wait for Krista.
“What’s so urgent, Daddy?” she asked after kissing his cheek.
“I have to make some plans, and I have to start with you.” He unlocked the door to his studio, got two bottles from the refrigerator, lemonade for Krista and ginger ale for himself, and sat down. “You’ve been admitted to three universities. I can’t afford Brown, so I hope you’ll agree that’s out. I was graduated from Howard with honors, and I’d be happy if you agreed to go there.”
Krista jumped up, ran to his desk, and braced her hands on it. “Are you telling me you’re going to send me to Howard? Huh? You’re gonna pay for it?”
He leaned back in his chair and looked her in the eye. It seemed as if she still didn’t understand. “Krista, I have three children, and I intend to send all three of them to a university. You’re the oldest; you’re ready to go, so I’m dealing with you first. If you’re willing to go to Howard, bring me the papers, and I’ll sign as the responsible parent. Your mother has had the responsibility alone for nearly eighteen years, but not any longer.”
She ran around the desk and hugged him. He was used to her outbursts of affection, but this was the first time he’d seen her cry. “Now. Now. None of that. I’ll take you home. If I’m late for supper again tonight, Carla will have a fit.”
As if he’d administered shock therapy, her tears stopped abruptly, as if they had turned to ice. “Where were you last night, Daddy?”
“Baltimore. I went to a fraternity meeting.” He meant for his frown to serve as a mild reprimand, but it evidently didn’t register as such with his daughter.
“Were you with Jada?”
He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “Get this straight, Krista. There is nothing between Jada and me.”
She seemed downcast, and he sensed that she didn’t believe him. She confirmed that when she said, “I have a feeling she wouldn’t agree. Okay, let’s go.”
He parked in front of Petra’s house and sat there until Krista asked him, “What is it, Daddy? Should I get out?”
“It has just occurred to me that I can’t make plans for you without discussing things with your mother. I’m going in with you.” He used his cell phone to telephone his home. “Paul, would you tell your mother that I have to speak with Petra about Krista, and I should be home in less than an hour. Thanks. She’s here with me, but you two can talk later.” He walked around to the front passenger’s door and opened it. “I hope Petra will allow you to go to Howard. It’s our best shot.”
Petra’s eyes widened when she saw Goodman enter with Krista, who rushed to her and hugged her with more fervor than usual, as if to assure her mother that she still loved her. “Mom, Daddy decided that he needed to talk with you. May I stay and listen?”
Petra looked at Goodman, every inch the epitome of a successful man. “It’s all right with me if you agree. Have a seat. Krista, please get your father a glass of lemonade. The pitcher’s in the refrigerator.”
“She can sit with us,” he said. “You’ve done a fine job with her, and I’m proud she’s my daughter. Petra, I’m hoping to send all of my children to a university. Krista’s the oldest of the three, and as things are now, I can send her to Howard, but I can’t afford Brown. She’s agreed to go to Howard, but I need your approval.”
She shook her head in amazement. “I’m stunned. I would have expected anything but this. From what I hear, Howard’s a fine school, and it has agreed to admit her. What a blessing! It’s expensive, Goodman.”
“I can manage it. By the way, do you have health insurance for her? If not, I can put her on my family plan until she’s twenty-five. Maybe I’d better switch her over anyway, and that will be less expense for you.”
“Goodman, I’m ashamed of myself. I should have contacted you about Krista long ago.”
“Sometimes our errors are our salvation, Petra. Who knows how it would have been long ago?”
“You really have forgiven me?”
“Look at it this way. You freed me of the responsibility of a family, allowing me to lay the foundation for a good life, but you made the wrong decision for Krista and yourself, and I had no input in her upbringing.” He stood and walked across the room to the fireplace. “Little girls make kings of their fathers, and I missed that. But that’s passed, and I’m happy with Krista. We’re developing a good father-daughter relationship, and that’s what I want.”
He paused and didn’t look at Petra. “If you hadn’t gotten that bad news, would you ever have told me that I fathered this wonderful girl?”
She remembered her vow to tell the truth no matter what and fixed her gaze on him. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling that I might have let the lie stand. It cost me a lot to tell Krista about you.”
“I imagine it did.” He walked over to where his daughter sat with an expression of bemusement. “Be sure and bring me those papers when you come for your lesson Monday.” When he fingered his chin, Petra remembered that he always did that when he’d arrived at a decision about something. “Look, I’ll stop by and get them around six tomorrow evening. The sooner we confirm that you’re going, th
e better.”
Goodman walked over to Petra and extended his hand. She stood and shook it. “Thanks for everything, Goodman. You know, if it hadn’t been for that misdiagnosis, all this wouldn’t have happened, I wouldn’t have seen the Grand Canyon, and I still wouldn’t be able to swim.”
A frown replaced his smile. “You can swim?” Petra nodded. “Incredible! Well, I won’t ask how that happened. Krista will need a lot of things for school. I’m here to help. Good night.”
“What’s the matter, Mom? You’re so quiet,” Krista said. “Seems to me you should be dancing, since you don’t have to worry about me getting into college.”
“Oh, I’m happy about that, but he was right about a lot of things. When you were two to five years old, you were so sweet, pretty, charming, and smart. I imagine you would have been the light of Goodman’s world.”
“No point in sweating it, Mom. Considering what he said; today he would probably have been working at McDonald’s in the day and trying to play gigs in honky-tonk joints at night. He’s got a palace over there, a real cool studio, and he’s conductor of a big community chorus. He’s rowing it right, Mom. Quit worrying.”
“He says it’s okay, and you say not to worry, but it isn’t all right, and I can’t undo it. I know you and your father care for each other, and you’re getting along well, but lost time is never found again, as my grandfather would say. I can’t help feeling as if I robbed both of you. I’m lucky Goodman’s the man he is. Get those papers, honey, and fill out your part tonight. We have to let him know that we appreciate what he’s doing.”
Krista stared at her. “He’s my father, Mom. He’s doing his part like you’re doing yours. I appreciate you both. By the way, miss Lurlene called you. I got excited when Daddy called me to come to the studio, and I forgot to tell you.”
“Really? Lurlene hasn’t called me but once since I’ve been back. Thanks.” She didn’t associate Lurlene with remorse, so the woman wouldn’t have called to apologize for her attitude about Petra’s trip.
She dialed Lurlene’s number. “Hi, Lurlene. This is Petra. Did you call me?”
“I sure did. How come you don’t feel like playing pinochle these days?”
Remorse? Why had the word even come to her mind? She let out a big belly laugh. She couldn’t help it. When she could control herself, she said, “Lurlene, bless your heart, I haven’t had anybody to play pinochle with.”
“Well, you could play with Twylah and me if you wanted to.”
“Where?” she asked, because they usually played at her house.
“Over here. Now. Won’t take you but three or four minutes to get here. Nobody’s asking you to dress up.”
“I haven’t had dinner.”
“I got food.”
“All right. I’ll be over there in twenty minutes.” She went to the bottom of the stairs and called Krista. “Can you get yourself some supper? I’m going over to Lurlene’s and play pinochle.”
Krista skipped halfway down the stairs. “Sure. Have a good time. I thought they were pouting about something.”
“Lurlene was for sure, but they want to play cutthroat, and they need me for that.” She expelled a long breath. “You wouldn’t believe how I messed up, spending all that money and—”
“Oh, come on, Mom. How much debt did you pile up?”
“Around eighteen thousand dollars. And there’s more. I…I fell in love with someone, and—”
“You what?”
“He’s a wonderful man, and I just walked off and left him, because I didn’t want him to watch me die. He doesn’t know where I am or how to reach me, and I only know he lives in Oakland.”
“You sure had a busy month, Mom. Give me his name. If he really does live in Oakland, I can find him. No sweat. That’s what computers are for.”
“Thanks, but I slipped away without telling him I was leaving, so he’s probably gotten over me by now.”
“Mom, you should sue the…You should sue Barnes and that lab.” She put her hands on her hips. “What a mess! I’m sorry, Mom. Are you going to get over him?”
“Maybe. Who knows? I’ll see you later.”
“Come on in, girl,” Lurlene said when Petra arrived. “I got some good old southern fried chicken just like you like it.”
“I’ll eat it, Lurlene, if you promise not to tell anybody else that I went out West to have an abortion.”
“Oh, girl, people don’t take things like that seriously. I told my boss this morning that I deserved a raise, and he just laughed.”
“Yeah. If I’d been there when you said it, I’d’a laughed, too,” Petra said and submitted to Lurlene’s hug because she knew it sufficed for an apology.
“We’re having some of this fried chicken, but Twylah’s eating grilled chicken breast.”
Petra sat across from Twylah. “Is that true?”
“It’s that or kidney and blood pressure problems. Y’all eat. I don’t mind a bit.”
After they ate, Lurlene cleared the table and brought out the cards, soft drinks, and hot coffee. “Let’s get started. Petra, you deal. Did you meet any interesting men in California?”
“I met some really fine men in South Dakota, Arizona, and California. I’m speaking nice guys.”
Twylah pulled air through her teeth. “Then how come you’re here and they’re there?”
“Possibly because I couldn’t pick up a six-foot-four-inch, two hundred-pound man and carry him. The one who took me to Tombstone, Arizona, had to be taller than that. Bid, Lurlene.”
Lurlene sucked her teeth. “If it had been me, you bet I’d’a tried.”
“Did you make out with any of them?” Twylah asked. “Tell me, so I can be jealous.”
“Girl, get your mind out of the gutter,” Petra said. “Think about something other than sex.”
“If I don’t think about it, I’ll forget what it’s like,” Twylah said.
Lurlene trumped Twylah’s ace of hearts. “Don’t worry. It’s like swimming. No matter how long it’s been since you swam, all you have to do is get back into the water.”
“How would you know?” Twylah asked in a voice suggestive of annoyance.
Lurlene raised her chin and looked into the distance. “’Cause I’ve been back in the water, and boy, did I swim!”
On the surface, their camaraderie appeared to be the same as always, but Petra listened with the ears of one with a sensitivity sharpened by the experience of making every minute of her life count for something important. That experience had also lessened her tolerance for tomfoolery, she realized somewhat sadly. How long had their chitchat been full of forced gaiety?
“You know, it has just occurred to me that I haven’t been really happy in years,” she said.
Lurlene regarded Petra with an expression of disdain. “What you need, Petra, is a good roll in the hay.”
“Be serious,” Twylah said. “Petra’s gotten so prissy, she wouldn’t even break a sweat. A good man would be wasted on her.”
Petra tossed out the ace of clubs, topped Lurlene’s king, and won the hand. “You all go right on and talk about me like I wasn’t here. By the way, I didn’t tell you that Krista’s father is sending her to Howard University. She didn’t even have to ask him. Close your mouth, Lurlene. That’s what a father is supposed to do.”
“I thought Krista’s father was dead,” Lurlene said.
“A case of mistaken identity,” Petra said and remembered that she’d vowed never to lie again. “Goodman Prout is Krista’s father.”
“I don’t know the man,” Twylah said. “Why the devil did you tell us he was dead? A lot of men don’t marry the mother of their children.”
“He would have if I had told him I was pregnant, but I didn’t tell him. And don’t ask me why. I was seventeen, and you could argue about the extent of my maturity.”
“You couldn’t have been too stupid,” Lurlene said, “or you wouldn’t’a done such a good job of raising Krista. When did you tell her?”
“When the doctor said I had six months at the most to live.”
“Well, I’ll be danged if that don’t beat all,” Twylah said. “You ought to thank that doctor for misleading you. If you hadn’t told them, you’d be shelling out your pennies to Howard University every month for the next four years.”
“I have to get up early tomorrow morning. Judge Harper will be sitting, and you don’t dare be late to his trials.” She stood, and allowed herself a deep yawn. “Thanks for calling me, Lurlene. I sure enjoyed it. Next week at my house?”
“Of course,” they said in unison.
Petra headed home walking at a fast clip. She had indeed enjoyed playing cards. But although she still loved her two friends, for the first time, she was critical of them. She saw them as frivolous. Were they, or was it that her values had changed? I don’t want to judge my friends or anyone else. I only want to enjoy being alive.
When she walked into her house, Krista said, “Mom, a Dr. Hayes called you from Atlanta. He said for you to call him tomorrow morning between nine and eleven o’clock. And he said don’t worry; nothing’s wrong.”
“Thanks, hon. Looks as if I’ll have to go to Atlanta for a checkup. I feel fine, but—”
“But he wants to be sure. If you don’t have any money, I can give you some for your ticket.”
“Krista, you can’t know how proud I am that you could help me, but since Goodman’s sending you to school, life will be easier for me.”
After speaking with the doctor the next morning, Petra obtained a two-day leave of absence from work, got her mother to stay with Krista, and flew to Atlanta that evening. He’d said it was a routine exam, and she hoped he was right.
Chapter Twelve
Petra walked into Dr. Mark Hayes’s office the next morning with her head high, feigning courage and nonchalance, but the touch of her fingers felt like ice on her skin, and she’d have sworn that both of her feet were wooden planks.
A Different Kind of Blues Page 23