“For one thing, you are not a kid, and you were entertaining the man.”
“That bastard entertained himself!” But then realization dawned. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
Esther studied the angry glare in Arnell’s puffy eyes. “You’ve never been a liar, Arnell. I believe that Woody Parker may have raped you, but . . .”
“May have?”
“. . . Woody paid well for the privilege.”
Arnell sucked her lungs full of air. She sprang up and pounded menacingly toward Esther.
Esther sat cooly. Her eyes never left Arnell’s.
Arnell stopped inches from Esther. She wanted to slap her, but a little voice said, She’s your mother. No matter what she does, she’s still your mother. But Arnell was fuming. “I can’t believe you said that! How many times do I have to remind you, Esther, that I am your daughter? Your flesh and blood?”
Unfazed, Esther eyed Arnell cooly. “I don’t know why you’re so upset. I only meant that, at the time, maybe Woody didn’t think he was raping you. And, maybe, if he thought he was a little rough, that’s why he left you that money, as sort of an apology.”
“That’s how you see it, huh? Well, let me show you what I think of his so-called apology.” Arnell rushed to the bar and snatched up the money.
Esther stood. “What are you going to do?”
Arnell brushed past Esther on her way to the fireplace.
“Don’t do that.” Esther tried to beat Arnell to the fireplace. “Arnell, you earned that money.” She tried to take the money from Arnell’s hand.
Arnell slapped Esther’s hand away, stinging her.
Esther pulled back. “You hit me!” She rubbed her hand.
The money, Arnell threw into the fireplace. From the mantel above, she snatched a box of matches.
“I can’t believe you hit me.”
“You think I earned this money, Mother? How? By putting myself in a position to be raped? You are truly sick. I don’t want this money. It’s filthy. This money is not an even exchange for my dignity.”
“You’ve always been so dramatic, Arnell. If anything, that money gives you dignity.”
“You are seriously warped.” Arnell struck a match. She flung it on top of the money. The flame went out.
“See, it’s not meant to be burned. Sweetie, you’re upset. Take a minute to calm down.”
Arnell struck another match.
“Arnell, please, let me hold onto the money until you calm down.” Esther again reached for the money.
Arnell roughly elbowed Esther aside, surprising them both.
“Excuse you, Arnell! You’re getting a bit too physical with me, aren’t you?”
“If you touch that money, I’ll throw this match on you.” Arnell’s hand shook.
Somewhat amused, Esther smirked. She stepped back. “Sweetie, you’re getting to be pretty nasty, aren’t you?”
Arnell glared at Esther. “I’ve come by it honestly, Mother.”
Esther began patting her hips. Her cigarettes weren’t there, she had no pockets. She had left them downstairs. “If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead, burn the damn money. I don’t need it and apparently neither do you.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” Arnell retrieved one of the bills and lit the edge. It caught. She lay it underneath the edge of the other bills. They all caught. Arnell stood back, staring at the small fast-burning fire.
“Feel better?” Esther asked.
Arnell tossed the box of matches back atop the mantel. “Don’t ever call me about your business again.” She went into the bedroom to get dressed.
Esther glanced at the black ashes that remained from the burned one hundred-dollar bills. She cut her eyes toward the bedroom. “Small battle, big war.” She reached for the telephone sitting on the end table. She dialed.
Eight
“James!” Esther said loud enough for Arnell to hear her in the bedroom.
“Yes?”
“Hi. How are you, James?”
Arnell came running. She was half dressed with only her bra on and the kimono wrapped around her waist. She gawked at Esther.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me, James, Esther,” she said pleasantly, looking at her irate daughter. “Arnell’s mother.”
Arnell’s heart almost stopped beating.
“Mrs. Rayford, how are you?”
Esther and Arnell were locked in an icy glare. “James, dear, I’m just fine. It’s been a while since we talked. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I almost feel like Arnell is keeping you from me.”
“Oh, no, that’s not the case. I’ve just been very busy.”
“Well, James, don’t work yourself to death. How are you otherwise?”
Esther’s syrupy sweet voice sickened Arnell. She wanted to throw up. More than that, she really wanted to hurt her mother.
“I’m just fine.”
“Good. Good. Arnell and I were just sitting around talking. I was telling her that it’s been a while since we’ve all gone out to dinner.”
Arnell’s pulse began to race. Finally able to move, she rushed over to Esther. She grabbed for the telephone.
Esther yanked the telephone out of Arnell’s reach. “Oh, Arnell, you can talk to James anytime you want. I made the call. Let me talk to him.”
Stop it! Arnell mouthed, angrily.
“James, you should see your fiancée trying to take this phone from me. She must really love you.”
“I love her, too.”
“Sweetie, he loves you, too.”
Stop it! Arnell again mouthed.
“It’s good to hear from you, Mrs. Rayford.”
“Oh, that’s so nice. See, Arnell, I told you James wouldn’t mind my calling and inviting him out to dinner. Am I right, James?”
“It has been a while. As I said earlier, I’ve been very busy. I—”
“I’m sure you have been, dear, but I’m also sure that you can find a few hours for your future mother-in-law.”
You are such a bitch, Arnell mouthed, abruptly unwrapping the kimono from around her waist and pulling it on over her body.
“Oh, Arnell says hi.”
“Hey, baby.”
“He says, ‘Hey, baby,’” Esther said sultrily to Arnell. “He’s so sweet.”
Heat seemed to rise from Arnell’s chest up her neck, onto her face. She balled up her fists.
“Tell her I’ll see her in a few hours.”
“He says that he’ll see you in a few hours.”
Screw you, Arnell mouthed.
Esther smirked. “She says, she can’t wait. Oh, James, you two are so sweet together. Arnell is so lucky she met such a wonderful young man. Tell me, James, how is it that you and Arnell met again?”
“I was working on a major fund-raising campaign at the United Negro College Fund—probably the most important of my career—and I wanted the proposal to be as tight as possible. See, I’m a pretty good writer, but this was a multimillion-dollar campaign. I went in search of a copy editor.”
“And you found Arnell.”
“Yes. I saw her ad in the Park Slope Press. I called her. She took on the project. She did a superb job.”
“And, as they say,” Esther said, looking at Arnell, “the rest is history.”
“Yes, indeed. I’m glad she agreed to go out to dinner with me six weeks later. I was running out of proposals for her to edit.”
Arnell stood with her hand over her closed eyes. She was picturing herself jumping off a building.
“Oh, how romantic,” Esther said. “Arnell, James is a sweetie pie.”
Go to hell, Arnell mouthed.
“About dinner, Esther. How about Sunday? Arnell and I will pick you up around six.”
“Oh, you’ll pick me up?” Esther asked, looking pointedly at Arnell. “How nice, but I have my own car. In fact, I’d like to bring my dear friend Tony along. You two need to meet since we’re all going to be family.”<
br />
“I look forward to it.”
“Don’t do this,” Arnell pleaded softly. “I’m begging you.”
“James, dear, would you hold on a minute?” Esther asked sweetly.
“Sure.”
Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, Esther narrowed her eyes threateningly at Arnell. “Say you’re going to be a good girl.”
Arnell was breathing so hard her parched throat hurt. Her chest heaved. She glared hatefully at Esther.
“Say it,” Esther ordered, threatening to take her hand off the mouthpiece.
Arnell folded her arms. Her right foot went to tapping. All the hate she was feeling for Esther was choking her.
“Sweetie, I love you to death, but you really don’t wanna try me.”
Again their eyes locked in a battle of wills and control, which Arnell was losing. The knot in her stomach was so tight, she cramped. She knew that this wasn’t a fight she could win. Her lips began to tremble. She dropped her arms. She dropped her eyes.
“That’s better,” Esther said, feeling victorious.
Defeated, Arnell went to stand in front of the fireplace. With her back to Esther, she began kneading the cramp in her stomach as she stared hopelessly down at the expensive ashes. She wondered what her life might have been, if she had burned every tainted dollar she’d ever received in payment for spreading her thighs. Would Esther have gotten such a stranglehold on her life without the money?
“James,” Esther said in her sweetest voice, “I am so sorry for having kept you waiting. I had to straighten out the details with Arnell. She wants Tony and I to meet you and her at Fiorentino’s. I love Italian food. How about you?”
“Love it.”
“Good, it’ll be my and Tony’s treat,” Esther said.
“No, you’ll be my guests.”
“James, don’t debate me on this one, you won’t win. Taking you and Arnell out to dinner will truly be my treat and, most definitely, my pleasure.”
James chuckled. “I concede.”
Arnell didn’t think she could hate Esther any more than she did at that very moment. How much time could she get for killing her own mother?
“Thank you, James. I’ll see you Sunday. I’ll say good night now. Oh, and James, please, give your parents my regards.”
“I will. Good night.”
Smugly self-satisfied, Esther hung up the telephone. “James is such a sweet man. Arnell, you’re so lucky to be marrying a man like him. I think he’ll make a wonderful husband. Have you started planning your wedding, yet?”
Arnell didn’t answer.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t pout. Let’s not fight anymore,” Esther said, going to Arnell. She embraced her, hugging her close. “Arnell, I really do hate it when we fight.”
A creepy feeling came over Arnell. There was a time a long time ago, when Esther’s arms around her made her feel safe. But that was when she was a child, before she was sixteen. Since she was sixteen, Esther’s motherly embrace only meant trouble for her.
Seventeen years later, thoughts of that long-ago Friday when Arnell had to suffer the touch of Mr. Hershfeld in order to keep a roof over her and Esther’s heads still haunted her, which is why Esther’s arms around her disgusted her. Esther wouldn’t allow her to stop having sex with Mr. Hershfeld until they moved out of his apartment, but then, there were a whole host of Mr. Hershfelds to service that had nothing to do with keeping a roof over their heads. Scornfully, Arnell pulled herself free of Esther’s venomous embrace.
“Sweetie, I hate it when we fight.”
Knock . . . knock . . . knock.
Esther glanced at the door. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m not staying.”
“Okay, sweetie, I understand if you’re still upset. I’ll leave. Stay up here as long as you want. You don’t have to rush, Woody more than paid for the room.”
“Damn,” Arnell said, totally disgusted by Esther’s callousness. She bustled off into the bedroom to finish dressing.
“Now what did I say?” Esther asked on her way to answer the knocking. She opened the door. It was Iris, one of her girls. “What is it?”
“Queen Esther, we have a problem.”
“What now?”
“Kitt’s pregnant.”
“Damn. As if I don’t have enough problems on my plate.”
Back in the bedroom, Arnell heard the door close. She sat on the side of the bed. She felt just as she did—defeated, ashamed, dirty—after Mr. Hershfeld had his way with her young, inexperienced body. And here she was, yet again, seventeen years later, still letting Esther orchestrate the rape of her mind and body. Why in the world was she so weak?
Arnell stared at herself in one of the wall panels of mirrors that surrounded the bed. The woman that stared back at her looked angry, defiant. That woman didn’t look the way Arnell felt inside—weak, defeated. That woman on the outside didn’t look like she’d let anyone use or abuse her. Maybe it was time she let that angry woman take control of the weak woman inside her. It was time to take her life out of Esther’s hands.
Nine
Unannounced, Esther barged into Kitt’s room. “How can you be so stupid?”
Kitt had been lying down on the bed. She sat up immediately.
Esther tramped right up to the bed. “Have I been talking to myself about how you girls are supposed to protect yourselves from disease and pregnancy? Did I speak another language?”
Kitt’s lips were trembling as she stared dumbly at Esther.
“Damn it, Kitt, I can’t believe how stupid you are. I bet you don’t even have a clue about what to do. What are you going to do?”
“I . . . I—”
“Just like I thought,” Esther said disgustedly, turning away from Kitt. She looked around the room, tastefully decorated in deep burgundy and soft pink tones. She had picked the colors because Kitt said they were her favorites, which was key in making a girl feel like the room was hers. If the girls were comfortable in their rooms, then they’d treat their clients more like lovers than johns— lovers are more generous. In hindsight, perhaps she had made Kitt’s room too comfortable when she allowed her to put stuffed animals and pictures of her family on the dresser. Maybe it was her fault for being compassionate.
“How far gone are you?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?” Esther mimicked Kitt. She suddenly got up close on Kitt, making her push farther back on the bed. “Kitt, you are testing my patience. I told you when you came here that I wasn’t running a nursery. How many months pregnant are you?”
“I . . . I think . . . I’m—”
“Spit it out!” Esther shouted. “How many months?”
Kitt jumped. “Four months, Queen Esther. Queen Esther, I didn’t mean to get pregnant. I swear. It was Andrew Peebles who got me pregnant. He said he didn’t like to wear condoms and he wouldn’t do nothing with me if I tried to make him wear one. He said if I got pregnant, he’d take care of the baby.”
“Stupid, what did I tell you about letting clients talk their way out of using condoms?”
“You said, don’t let them.”
“So why are we having this dumb ass conversation? Why are you pregnant?”
“I . . . I—”
Esther plucked Kitt hard on the side of her head.
Kitt gasped aloud as she brought her hand to her head to still the painful stinging.
“And that’s another thing,” Esther said. “Kitt, you were supposed to be on the pill.”
“I ran out, Queen Esther.”
Esther stood over Kitt with her hands planted on her hips. “I can’t believe how stupid you are. You have got to get up out of here. I cannot abide stupid people.”
“But, Queen Esther, I can’t leave here. I—”
“Oh, yes. You can leave here quite easily, and you will.”
“I’m sorry,” Kitt whined. “Please, Queen Esther.”
“Sorry doesn’t work for me, Kitt, espe
cially when I laid out the rules when you came in the door. Rule one,” Esther said, beginning to check off each rule on her fingers. “Do not fuck with my money. Rule two: No drugs. Rule three: Do not get pregnant. Rule Four: Never call a client outside of this house. Rule Five: Act like a lady at all times. Rule Six: Don’t mess up my damn house. And Rule Seven: I reiterate, Do not fuck with my money.”
“But, Queen Esther, I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.”
“You weren’t trying to use your brain, either, were you? Kitt, you stupidly broke rules one, three and seven. You have got to get the hell out of my house.”
Kitt slid quickly off the bed and grabbed onto Esther’s arm. “Please, Queen Esther, please give me another chance. I don’t have anywhere to go. My mother moved back to Georgia. She lives in a two bedroom trailer with my little sister and brother. She don’t have room for me. I have got to stay here, Queen Esther. Please, let me stay.”
“Kitt, you’re twenty-one years old,” Esther said, roughly knocking Kitt’s hands off her arm. “You’re old enough to get your own place. I hope you saved some of your money—you’re going to need it. And if you don’t have any money, I hope you have comfortable walking shoes, sidewalks are hard on feet in stilettos.”
“Please don’t put me on the street, Queen Esther. I can’t walk the streets. Please.”
Esther surveyed the room. Besides a thorough cleaning, nothing major had to be done. Kitt had only been with her a year so she wasn’t about to redo the room this soon. Her biggest problem was going to be in getting a replacement for Kitt at such short notice, a headache she didn’t need.
“Queen Esther, I’ll get an abortion. Please, can I stay?”
“No,” Esther said flatly as she went to the door. “Start packing. Big Walt will be up in thirty minutes to help you move out.”
Sinking down onto the bed, Kitt began to cry. “Please, Queen Esther. Please don’t put me out.”
Esther opened the door. “Kitt, you put your own self out. You broke the rules, and there are consequences for people who break rules. Oh, and by the way, do not even think about breaking Rule Four. Because if I find out that you called Andrew Peebles, you will be sorry.”
Throwing herself onto her side on the bed, Kitt sobbed hard and loud.
The Honey Well Page 6