“You’ve dropped batter on the floor.”
“I can see. I not blind, girl. You just go on and see about cha mother.”
“Goddamn it, Melvina! Would you please stop pushing me. I am not a child, nor am I my mother’s keeper.”
“You her child, Arnell! Her only child and ya desert her when she needcha most.”
“I assure you, Melvina, my mother needs no one. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she loved Tony, but she didn’t need him. She—”
“You cold in ya heart to say such about cha darlin’ mother. Her—”
“Melvina!” Arnell said strongly. “Mind your business. Keep your damn nose in the kitchen.”
Huffing loudly, Melvina puffed herself up. “You cannot talk to me in this way. Queen Esther will—”
“Queen Esther isn’t going to do a damn thing in defense of you. I’m her daughter, remember? So, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your surly attitude, your smart mouth, and your inappropriate opinions to yourself.” Arnell didn’t wait for any back talk. She left the kitchen—a bit more ticked off than when she had arrived. At Esther’s suite door she grabbed the doorknob—it wouldn’t turn.
She stood back and looked at the door. It was locked. Maybe Esther was as messed up as Sharise had said. Arnell started to knock hard on the door, but thought better of it. She knocked softly—three times. There was no answer. She knocked again. “Mother, it’s me. Open the door.” Arnell listened at the door. She heard nothing and was about to knock again when she heard first one lock then a second lock being turned. She waited, but the door didn’t open. She grasped the doorknob. This time it turned. She opened the door. The room was dimly lit. Esther was lowering herself in her chair.
Closing the door, Arnell turned on the ceiling light. She was stunned by the sight before her. Esther’s hair looked like crows had been picking at it—it was a mess of prickly blond straw. It was a fright. Esther’s face was worse—her cheeks were tear-streaked with old and fresh tears. Deep, long worry lines straddled her red, bloated nose, and what little Arnell could see of Esther’s puffy eyes was sunken and red.
“My God, Mother. What happened?” Arnell saw Esther’s chin quiver as her face morphed into an ugly frown just before a flood of tears gushed from her. Esther covered her face with her hands and wailed. Seeing her mother cry so painfully tore at Arnell. She was uncertain as to what to do. For an uncomfortably awkward moment she watched Esther cry, but then her own sadness at Tony’s death claimed her. She fell down onto her knees before Esther and pulled her into her arms, holding her and holding onto her tightly while both their bodies were racked with grief. Arnell’s tears were not just for Tony, they were also for Esther. This was the first time Esther allowed herself to be comforted by anyone.
Twenty-Four
When Arnell could get Esther to stop crying, she ran her a hot bath and ended up practically bathing Esther and dressing her in the silky, pastel blue lounging pajamas she loved so much. She brushed Esther’s hair until her tiny blond curls were shiny and hugged her skull. No words passed between them as Esther let herself be led to her bed. She got under the covers up to her waist but she didn’t lie down because Arnell had propped three pillows up against the headboard for her to sit back against. Even when Arnell left the room, Esther didn’t move. She sat staring down at her hands, wondering what she was going to do without Tony.
In the kitchen, Arnell and Melvina moved stiffly around each other in a sullen waltz of silence, never looking at each other while going about their business of getting something for Esther to eat. Although unspoken, Melvina knew that Arnell was getting food for Esther so she filled a soup bowl with homemade chicken noodle soup. She placed it on a tray with a saucer of Saltine crackers. Arnell saw the tray that Melvina was preparing, but she thought Esther needed more sustenance. She made a thick ham sandwich with lots of mustard and a slice of Swiss cheese. That went on the tray, too. She and Melvina both agreed without words on the tea although it was Melvina who put a small pot of it on the tray along with a cup. Arnell left the kitchen carrying the heavy tray, while Melvina quietly sucked her teeth at Arnell’s back.
Half expecting Esther to reject the food, Arnell set the tray on the dresser. “I think you should eat something.”
“Yes, I am hungry,” Esther said quietly.
First removing the teapot, Arnell carefully carried the tray to the bed and set it on Esther’s lap. Esther took a moment to check out the food on the tray before picking up half the ham sandwich. A dab of mustard was left in the corner of Esther’s mouth. Arnell quickly handed her a napkin.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Arnell was secretly quite pleased that Esther chose her sandwich over Melvina’s soup, yet she was feeling ill at ease. She didn’t know if she wanted to sit on the bed or in the chair, but she knew she couldn’t just keep hovering.
“Sit on the bed,” Esther said, as if reading Arnell’s mind. Arnell did, facing Esther.
Esther took another small bite of her sandwich. She chewed slowly. The sandwich was probably very tasty but she truly couldn’t tell if she was eating ham or steamed cauliflower. Despite that, she ate the whole half of sandwich to please Arnell.
“You always made the best ham sandwiches,” Esther said, feeling quite full.
Arnell smiled the weakest of smiles. “That’s the way you taught me to make them.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
For an awkward moment, Arnell and Esther couldn’t look at each other. Finally, Esther pushed the tray an inch away, indicating to Arnell that she was finished. Arnell immediately picked up the tray and took it back to the dresser. That’s when she saw the teapot.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Mother?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Esther took the cup of tea Arnell handed her and placed it on the night table. She would wait until the tea cooled. She nestled back into her cloud of pillows and closed her eyes.
The moment was still, yet Arnell had questions that were shouting in her head. They had to be asked. “Mother, we’ve avoided talking about Tony all evening. What happened? How did he die?”
When Esther looked up, fresh tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know.”
Sitting again on the bed, Arnell asked, “How can you not know? Haven’t you spoken to Tony’s brother yet?”
“Peter said that Tony fell down the stairs and hit his head on the marble floor in his house, but I don’t believe that, Arnell. Tony wasn’t a clumsy oaf; he knew how to walk up and down a flight of damn stairs and chew gum at the same time.”
“Mother, maybe he blacked out and—”
“No!” Esther sat forward. “Tony did not black out and fall down the stairs and bust open his head. No way will I ever believe that. I believe—”
“You weren’t there.”
“No, I wasn’t, but Wednesday night before Tony died, he called me an hour earlier. He told me that he and Sal had had a big fight.”
“Was Sal at the house?”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there, was he?” Esther started to cry again.
Arnell didn’t know what to think. Sal was Tony’s youngest son and he had almost come to blows with him once before over Tony seeing Esther. Tony had put Sal out of his house. “Mother, do you believe that Sal had something to do with Tony’s death?”
“I know he did,” Esther sobbed. “Sal always hated that me and Tony were together.”
“Yes, but he wouldn’t kill Tony to break you two up.”
“Yes, he would!” Esther said adamantly. “Don’t you remember the time he followed Tony here and he told Tony that he would kill him for disrespecting his mother by sleeping with a black whore?”
Arnell remembered. It was a Saturday night, five years ago. She had been upstairs in her room and could hear Sal shouting above the music. She had raced downstairs to see what was going on and right away she could see the explosive anger in Tony’s eyes. Tony charged at Sal like he was a tortured bull. He s
hoved Sal up against the wall in the parlor and grabbed him up by the lapels of his jacket and literally lifted him off the floor. Sal wasn’t that small of a man himself, but he could not break Tony’s hold on him.
“Lei non insolentirà una signora nella sua casa—You will not disrespect a lady in her home,” Tony said through clinched teeth. “Esther è una donna buona. È un amico buono a me. Lei l’onorerà o porterò di nuovo la vita che io’il ve dato lei—Esther is a good woman. She is a good friend to me. You will honor her or I will take back the life that I’ve given you.” Tony’s fists were up in Sal’s throat and he was choking the breath from him. Sal was gasping. His eyes were bulging, his face was scarlet, his veins pulsed at his temples.
Esther stepped in. “Let him go, Tony. You’re choking him.”
Tony, contemptuously, released Sal with a thrust.
Sal held himself up against the wall. When he could catch his breath, Sal straightened his back and glared at his father. “Lei minaccerebbe la mia vita ed umilia mia madre negli occhi della nostra famiglia sopra un—You’d threaten my life and humiliate my mother in the eyes of our family over a—”
With his fists clinched, Tony again charged at Sal. Sal tried to press his body into the wall, but he was trapped. Tony got up in Sal’s face with his fist at his temple.
“Lei ha chiuso la sua bocca di filty, Salvatore. L’ho insegnato rispetta—You shut your filthy mouth, Salvatore. I taught you respect.”
“Lei me, come suo figlio, ha insegnato rispettare sua moglie, mia madre. Ma lei, lei farebbe il mancanza di rispetto lei da scegliere il suo mistress sopra lei, suo figlio—la sua famiglia—You taught me, as your son, to respect your wife, my mother. But you, you would disrespect her by choosing your mistress over her, your son—your family?”
“Scelgo, sempre, la mia famiglia. L’Esther è la famiglia a me—I choose, always, my family. Esther is family to me.”
“Poi sono non più suo figlio—Then I am no longer your son.”
The flicker of hurt that Arnell had seen in Tony’s eyes tore at her heart. She knew how much Tony loved his children. Especially Sal, who was so much his father’s son. Tony always said that. Anthony, Tony’s oldest son, cared not at all that Tony visited Esther—he was a visitor, every now and then, to The Honey Well himself. As hurt as Tony was by Sal’s words, he wouldn’t back down. He gave Sal a hard fist up in the air.
“Poi prendere l’inferno fuori della mia casa! Andare vivere nella strada dove lei appartiene—Then get the hell out of my house! Go live in the street where you belong.”
The look that passed between Tony and Sal was one of defiance. Neither would give an inch. Both were breathing hard, glaring at each other, telegraphing thoughts that only they could discern. Every person that witnessed their fight could feel the bitter rage that flowed between them. Their words had not been understood, but their anger had been. A father and son’s love had been torn asunder by their love for two different women—Sal, his mother, and Tony, his mistress.
At the door Sal turned back. “Lei sono straniero a me—You’re a stranger to me,” Sal said to Tony. “L’ucciderò se lei mai ha messo le sue mani su me ancora —I’ll kill you if you ever put your hands on me again.”
Tony growled and started after Sal. Esther quickly threw herself in front of Tony and pushed with all her might to keep him from going after Sal. “Let him go, Tony!”
Tony stayed with Esther for four nights before he went home. Arnell found out later that he was waiting for Sal to move out. Sal was twenty-four then. Tony said that it was about time Sal stopped standing on his feet and stood up on his own. How Tony’s wife felt about Sal moving out or the reason behind it, Tony never said. Tony and his wife stayed together under the same roof, their marriage chiseled in stone. She was going nowhere. As well, Esther was a permanent part of Tony’s life and his wife had no choice but to accept it. She had too much to lose if she divorced Tony. That, Tony was sure of.
Rarely did Arnell hear Tony speak at length of Sal or any of his other two children again, so she was surprised when Esther said that the day Tony died, he and Sal had fought.
“Mother, was Sal in the house when Tony fell down the stairs?”
“Peter wouldn’t tell me that. I asked him, but he wouldn’t say, he kept avoiding the question. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. So I know what the answer is. Sal was in the house. He wasn’t supposed to be in there. Arnell, Tony put him out.”
“Yes, he did, Mother, but Sal probably came back to see his mother. Tony knew about that. He even told you he knew Sal was coming to the house when he wasn’t home.”
“But Sal was there Wednesday when Tony was home. Arnell, Sal pushed Tony down those stairs. I know it as sure as I’m breathing. Sal killed Tony. He said he would, and Arnell, Sal is trying to keep me from going to the funeral home to see Tony.”
“Mother, maybe it’s for the best. Tony’s family—”
“Peter told me that mouse, Sal, hired guards to keep me away.” Esther slammed her fist into the mattress. “Can you believe that shit? Arnell, I can’t even say good-bye to Tony. After all these years, he’s going to be put in the ground and covered up for all eternity and I can’t even see him one last time and tell him how much I loved him.” Esther’s voice broke. “My God, Arnell, that’s so insane.”
Again Esther gave in to her despair and sobbed. Arnell could only sit and watch her mother grieve. What Esther believed about how Tony died Arnell could neither dispute nor confirm, though as she sat holding Esther’s hand, she wondered whether it could be true that Sal pushed Tony down the stairs.
Twenty-Five
The loud knock at the door to Esther’s suite awakened Arnell. She opened her eyes and looked right at the back of Esther’s head. Esther hadn’t stirred. She was sleeping soundly. It was probably the first sound sleep she’d had since Tony died. Arnell raised her head and looked down at herself fully clothed. She remembered stretching out on the bed around two-fifteen after Esther had cried herself hoarse and after she had asked her to stay a little longer. Arnell fell asleep listening to Esther talk about all the good times she’d had with Tony.
The knock came again.
Arnell quickly rolled off the bed and rushed into the front room to the door. She opened it just enough to see that it was Jeanette, whose eyes showed her surprise at seeing Arnell.
“Arnell, what are you doing here?”
None of your damn business was on the tip of Arnell’s tongue, but she was too tired and sleepy to get into it with Jeanette. “What do you want, Jeanette?”
“I need to speak to Queen Esther.”
“She’s sleeping.”
“Can you wake her up? This is really important.”
“No.”
“But there’s a problem upstairs with one of the girls that Queen Esther needs to take care of.”
“Jeanette, I am not waking my mother. Whatever the problem is, it will have to wait, or better still, you take care of it.” Arnell started to close the door. Jeanette wouldn’t let her. She pushed back against the closing door.
“Arnell, I already tried. Trena won’t come out of the bathroom. She locked herself in.”
“Trena?” That name got Arnell’s attention. “Is that the new girl?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She says that she’s not going to have sex with any more clients. Andrew Peebles has been waiting to get with her for more than twenty minutes and he’s pissed. He came late tonight because he was in the studio and Trena had already been with four other clients.”
“Who were the clients?”
“I don’t know all of them but Larry Bradley and Woodruff Parker were the last two.”
“Oh, God,” Arnell said, remembering her scary night with Woodruff Parker.
“What’s wrong?” Jeanette asked.
“Did Trena say if anything unusual happened with Woodruff Parker?”
“No. But after he left, she did s
ay that she wasn’t ever doing it with him or Andrew Peebles again. Then she got hysterical and started crying and saying she wasn’t doing it with anyone ever again. Arnell, she’s acting like a child. Queen Esther needs to talk to that little girl.”
“Jeanette, Trena’s acting like a child because maybe she is a child, but my mother won’t be talking to her tonight.” Arnell glanced over her shoulder at the bedroom door. Even if Esther were awake, she wouldn’t be up to overseeing the running of her house. Which was probably a good thing. She’d only pressure Trena into having sex with several more men before the night was over. “Let me get my shoes. I’ll talk to her.”
“Fine, she’s up in Kitt’s room.”
“I’ll be up in five minutes.”
This time Jeanette let Arnell close the door. Arnell hurried to Esther’s bedroom to make sure she was still asleep. Arnell didn’t need Esther to wake up and find out Trena wasn’t putting out. Arnell swept up her shoes and quickly retreated. In less than five minutes, she was knocking at the bathroom door in Trena’s room.
“Trena, it’s me, Arnell, Queen Esther’s daughter. We met a few weeks ago down in the kitchen, remember? May I speak to you a minute?”
“Go away. I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“Well, Trena, there’s a problem, then. If you don’t speak to me, no one else will be able to help you with whatever it is that’s bothering you.”
“Nobody is gonna help me,” Trena sobbed.
“You don’t know that, Trena. If you’ll tell me what’s wrong, I might be the one person that can help you. Trust me. Open the door.” Arnell listened to the soft sobbing on the other side of the door. Although she wanted Trena to open the door, Arnell really didn’t need Trena to tell her what the problem was. She already knew. Trena had been hit hard with the reality of what she was doing. Having sex with a lot of men wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. She might have even opened her eyes and realized that she was prostituting herself.
“Trena, I know what you’re feeling,” Arnell said. “I’ve been there. It’s not a good place to be.”
The Honey Well Page 15