by Mary Monroe
Rhoda was right. It was because of what my daddy did that my long-suffering mother had gone from living in poverty to living in the lap of luxury. She was now one of the happiest women I knew.
My mother was an uneducated woman with very little family to fall back on. After Daddy left us, she had endured some hellish jobs working as a maid and a nanny for rich white women—most of them pit bulls in heels. One of her last employers had beaten her with a mop handle and promptly fired her because she had caught her husband trying to fondle my mother’s breasts. Well, those days were over. My mother owned and operated The Buttercup, the most successful black restaurant in Richland. She had sold it twice. But each time she had gotten bored and restless, and purchased it back. Next to me and Daddy, the restaurant was her most important possession. All of that had come about because of Daddy’s betrayal. Albert King, my mother’s deceased second husband, had left The Buttercup to her in his will. I could understand what Rhoda was trying to tell me, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
“Think about your daughter,” Rhoda advised. “Charlotte has always wanted a siblin’. She and ... uh ... Lizzie’s child might bond the same way you and Lillimae did.”
That was true too. My daughter had been telling me for years that “an only child is a lonely child.” She used to beg me to give her a baby brother or a baby sister so she’d have somebody to boss around. And I had tried to do just that. I had stopped taking birth control pills, I had done all kinds of things to make myself more fertile (including Jell-O douches), and none of it had worked. I had accepted the fact that I’d never have another child to raise. At least not one from my body.
It seemed so unfair that Lizzie was the one pregnant by Pee Wee instead of me!
“My head is spinning. Let’s change the subject,” I suggested.
“We can change the subject, but this baby thing is not goin’ to go away. You need to face it head-on. The best way to do that is for you and me to talk about it some more. No matter what I say, I’m on your side. Just to let you know way in advance, no matter how involved Pee Wee gets in Lizzie’s child’s life, I will not tolerate him bringin’ it around me. And that’s somethin’ I want to do for your sake because I know how much it would hurt you.”
“I hope you mean that,” I bleated.
“I mean it, and you know I do. It’s the least I can do.”
We remained silent for a few moments. My mind went back to what Rhoda told me my mother had confessed to her. My mother had never been so candid with her feelings to me! This was one revelation that I was going to spend a lot of time thinking about, now that I knew about it. I had a notion to throw it up in Muh’Dear’s face the next time she complained to me about Lillimae. But no matter what I thought or felt, this news about Pee Wee and Lizzie having a baby together angered me to the bone. I really needed to talk more about it, but I didn’t want to do it over the telephone.
“Annette, can you meet me at the Red Rose for drinks when you get off work this evenin’? But you need to do some coolin’ off first. I really want you to spend the next few hours alone so that you’ll have some time to think about everything I’ve just said. I don’t like knowin’ you’re in so much pain. But, like I always do, I will do everything I can to help you get through this.”
I heard everything that Rhoda had just said, but my mind was on something else. “Rhoda, what would you have done if that woman your husband had the affair with had gotten pregnant with his baby?”
CHAPTER 7
RHODA WAS TAKING TOO LONG TO ANSWER MY QUESTION, so I asked it again, “What would you have done if your husband’s mistress had gotten pregnant with his baby?”
“I can honestly say that I don’t know how I would have handled my husband havin’ a baby with another woman. Anyway, the situation with my husband and his outside woman was a lot different than what you’re goin’ through with that Lizzie heifer. In my case, the other woman lives in Miami. Even if she had had a baby by my husband, she’s down there; I’m up here in Ohio. I wouldn’t have to worry about runnin’ into her on the street. This town is small; you will have to see Lizzie and her baby everywhere you go. This is somethin’ that you are goin’ to have to deal with head-on.”
“I wish I knew what to do,” I lamented. “I never thought that I would have to deal with something like this at my age. I need to talk to you about this some more.”
“For sure. Like I suggested, let’s hook up at the Red Rose after you leave your office this evenin’. Drinks are on me.”
“This evening? Oh no. I don’t think I can wait that long.” I looked up at the big clock on the wall facing my desk. “I need to get up out of here a lot sooner than this evening. I am so agitated right now that I can’t sit still. A liquid lunch might calm me down,” I admitted. “Can you meet me around eleven-thirty at that deli on the corner from my office? They’ve got some great French wine.”
“Oh, I can’t do it that soon,” Rhoda groaned. “Jade’s still not feelin’ well, so I’d better stay close to home for the next few hours. I picked up a prescription for her last night, and now she’s complainin’ about its side effects; one bein’ diarrhea.”
Rhoda’s daughter had not been feeling well for several days. Last Monday, after she’d indulged herself with one of her hour-long bubble baths, she’d developed a severe urinary tract infection. I felt somewhat responsible for Jade’s condition. A ninety-nine-cent bottle of bubble bath, which my daughter had given to Jade as a gift on her last birthday, was the cause of her discomfort. The reason I felt responsible was because Jade, who was about as high maintenance as a female could be, didn’t know that the bubble bath had come from a discount store. That was because Charlotte had poured it into a bottle from Victoria’s Secret. She had purposely left the very expensive tag stuck to the front of the bottle. I didn’t know what my daughter had done until she confessed her prank to me after she’d already given it to Jade. I scolded Charlotte and made her promise me that she would never do something that deceitful and tacky again.
“Poor Jade,” I said dryly, feeling slightly sympathetic. I had had my share of female-related discomforts over the years, including the one Jade had now. It was no picnic. Mine had also been caused by my bathing in cheap bubble bath. However, if somebody had to have it, I couldn’t think of a more deserving woman than Jade.
“Well, poor Jade is beside herself havin’ to deal with all that itchin’ and burnin’ between her thighs; not to mention all that pressure on her bladder. She didn’t even make it to the bathroom in time a few times yesterday. I’ve stepped in so many puddles on the floor between her bedroom and the bathroom, you’d think I had half a dozen un-housebroken puppies runnin’ around,” Rhoda groaned, grinding her teeth. “She hasn’t wet her bed this much since she was in diapers. Her silk thong panties and those white, six-hundred-thread-count sheets on her bed will never be the same again. We had to leave the grocery store yesterday before the clerk even rang up our purchases so Jade could get to a toilet. Lord! She didn’t make it. She had to squat down and relieve herself between two parked cars in the grocery store parking lot!” Rhoda snickered for a few seconds. “Maybe now she won’t be so quick to sit in a bathtub for an hour with bubbles up to her neck.”
“I hope not.” I had to hold my breath to keep from guffawing like a hyena. But I couldn’t stop myself from saying what I was thinking. “They have those Depends in her size, you know.” I was glad that I could shift my mind off Lizzie’s pregnancy for a few precious moments. I almost laughed, but I was glad I didn’t.
“Depends? Annette, that’s so gruesome!” Rhoda almost choked on her words. “Those damn adult diapers? That girl is so vain she won’t even wear cotton panties! Look, this conversation has drifted in the wrong direction. I want to talk more about this new development with Lizzie. You know I don’t want to spend my time on this telephone talkin’ to you about Jade’s bladder condition. Instead of us goin’ to the bar, what if I come by your house later tonight after Jad
e goes to bed?”
“That’s fine. What time do you think that’ll be?”
“Well, you know Jade. She’s my baby and I love her to death, but that child behaves like she came out of Pandora’s box instead of my womb,” Rhoda said in an apologetic manner. She mumbled some gibberish under her breath that included a few cuss words. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Nothin’ she does surprises me anymore, so I have to work around her annoyin’ antics. If she comes home from the clubs before eleven, I can come over around midnight in time for the Cheers reruns on Channel Four.”
I was not surprised to hear that Jade didn’t even let a severe urinary tract infection keep her from going out to party. As far as she was concerned, life was all about having a good time, no matter the cost. She had trotted off to a bar to participate in a “hot body” contest the night that a processor server tracked her down and slapped divorce papers in her hands right in front of her friends.
“But don’t count on Jade comin’ home in time. You know how much that girl likes to have a good time,” Rhoda added.
Unfortunately, I did know how much Jade liked to have a good time. She had wanted to “have a good time” with my husband while she was still in her teens. Her sinister plan was to break up my marriage and take over my role in Pee Wee’s life. Even though she and I had been more like family, she had attempted to destroy me by driving me crazy with anonymous hate mail, vicious telephone calls, and vile packages. When her plan fell apart, so did she. She now treated me like I had leprosy, but Rhoda and I maintained the friendship that we had developed when we were still teenagers by “working around” Jade, so to speak. Rhoda and I usually got together at my place or some place in public. I only went to her house when I knew Jade was out, or when I really needed to see Rhoda in person and didn’t mind having to endure Jade’s hostility. This was one of those times.
“I can leave work and come over,” I suggested, looking at my wall clock again. “Right now, if you don’t mind.”
It was only a few minutes past ten. I had not even finished my first cup of coffee. I had a lot of work on my desk and a staff meeting to attend at ten-thirty. I could delegate most of my work, but attending a staff meeting was the last thing that I wanted to do. I was in no shape to spend two hours with my staff trying to come up with ways to get people to pay their delinquent bills. Some people thought my job was easy. But when people’s unpaid bills ended up with a collection agency, it was obvious that these individuals were irresponsible. When they received calls from us, they were usually so hostile and angry, they only made the situation worse. I could recall only one case that didn’t fit into that unpleasant category. Last year an elderly woman from my church had a stroke and lapsed into a coma. She had previously given her daughter authorization to handle her finances. Well, the daughter handled the finances all right, but only the ones in her favor. She spent a fortune of her mother’s life savings in Atlantic City in the casinos and didn’t pay a single one of her mother’s bills. When the poor old woman surprised everybody and recovered, her life was in shambles. Her house was in foreclosure, her utilities had been cut off, and her car had been repossessed. The district attorney, the old woman’s former employer, was fit to be tied. The daughter was charged with elder abuse and grand theft. She was put on probation and had to pay a huge fine. Part of her punishment was that she had to catch up the payments on the bills that she had ignored. However, it was too late to salvage her mother’s previously excellent credit rating. The old woman begged me not to sue her. She didn’t want to lose what little money she had left, because she had no other family to turn to. I had no problem arranging a payment plan that the daughter could afford. After she made two payments, both late, she stopped paying on her mother’s accounts, quit her job, and went on welfare. It amazed me how often friends and family members betrayed one another.
Lizzie used to be one of my closest friends....
“Annette, are you still with me?”
“Oh. I was just thinking about something,” I sniffed, wiping a huge tear from the corner of my eye. “Uh, do you want me to come over to your place right now?”
“Oh, I wish you could, but this is not a good time for me. My houseguest is on his way from the airport. You know how helpless men are about things like unpacking and whatnot. I need to be here when he arrives so I can get him settled in. Besides, he’ll be all turned around and exhausted because of the time difference between Ohio and England. Between him and Jade, I’ll have my hands full for the next few hours. Like I said, I will come to your house later tonight if Jade gets home before too late. I want to be here to make sure she takes her medication before she goes to bed.”
“Yeah, I—oh shit! Don’t worry about us getting together at all tonight. I just remembered that I have a date with Roscoe Grinter.”
“Roscoe? Girl, do you mean to tell me that after what you found out today, you’re still goin’ out on a date? Don’t you think that’s a little odd?”
“No more so than your daughter going to the clubs tonight in her condition,” I smirked. “At least Roscoe will be a distraction, and that’s what I need until I get my bearings back.”
Rhoda chuckled. “We’ll get together tomorrow for sure. We can talk then. I’ll come over first thing in the mornin’.”
After Rhoda hung up, I sat at my desk and stared at the wall. When it began to look like it was moving, I shifted my attention to some of the items on my desk. I glared at the large silver-framed photo of Pee Wee sitting next to my telephone. There was a foolish grin on his face as he stood over the barbecue grill in my backyard. This picture had been taken two years ago, so he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. And at that time, he didn’t. I couldn’t believe all of the things that had happened since he’d posed for that picture. “You dog,” I snarled, almost barking at the picture. “You low-down, funky black dog!”
CHAPTER 8
I LIKED TO KEEP UP WITH THE NEWS, LOCAL AND WORLDWIDE. I watched CNN, Dateline, and most of the other news programs on a regular basis. It was amazing how the media could give a detailed report within a matter of hours on something that had occurred in some remote part of the world. They had satellites and all kinds of technology to work with, though. But some of the people I knew had all of those reporters beat when it came to spreading news. On any given day, news shot through Richland faster than a speeding bullet.
I knew that before the day was over, the local grapevine would be buzzing like wasps about Lizzie’s pregnancy.
Lizel Hunter, one of the two young women who helped Rhoda manage the child-care business that she operated out of her home, called me up five minutes after I ended my conversation with Rhoda.
“Annette! I am so glad I caught you! I wanted to make sure you were all right!” Lizel exploded, talking in a voice so loud my eardrum throbbed. “I was so worried about you.”
“Hello, Lizel,” I replied in a tired voice. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m going to pray for you anyway. Lord knows you’re going to need it more than ever now. You poor thing, you. As if Pee Wee and Lizzie haven’t hurt you enough. Now this baby thing! I wish to God that I was there with you now so I could give you a hug and rub up and down your back ’til you feel better. People have been telling me all my life that I got healing hands.”
“I appreciate your concern, Lizel,” I murmured. “I appreciate your taking the time to call me, but I’m doing just fine, thank you. I know you’re busy with the kids, so I’ll let you get back to work. My inbox is overflowing with things that I need to address.”
Lizel kept talking like she had not heard a word I’d just said. “Annette, you know I’m in the church, so I won’t say anything too harsh. But if I was you, I would skin Lizzie’s pale ass alive for what she did!” Lizel thundered. “Bless your soul.” There was so much emotion and pity in her voice, you would have thought that somebody close to me had died and she was calling to offer her condolences. I couldn’t
have felt any worse if someone close to me really had died. “Why that hussy wasn’t using protection is beyond me! She is going to look like a fool walking around pregnant at her age—and by a married man.”
Before I could respond again, Lizel’s cousin Wyrita Hayes, the other woman who worked for Rhoda, came on the line. “I’ve been through the same thing you’re going through myself. Remember my ex, Vincent Proctor? That real cute cabdriver with that cone-shaped head? He got my cousin’s best friend pregnant while he was still living with me. The boy is nine now, and even though Vincent denied Jeffrey was his son, I know he’s that boy’s daddy because they got that same long-ass head. But you know what, he’s a real sweet little boy. Me and my whole family just love him to death. Don’t you worry none. In time, Lizzie’s child will become a joy to have in your life because of a daddy like Pee Wee.”
I was listening to Wyrita, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhoda had said. She and Wyrita seemed to be on the same page. I wondered if they both truly believed that something pleasant was going to come from Lizzie having a child by my husband. Would Lizzie’s child become a “joy” in my life? Would my daughter having a sibling benefit her and enrich her life the way that Lillimae did mine? I wondered.
Despite those thoughts, and what Wyrita had just said, just thinking about my husband’s baby growing in Lizzie’s belly left a bitter taste in my mouth and a headache that felt like my brain was on fire.
“Annette, I know you are mad as hell right now, and you should be, but you can get over this. Just like you got over Lizzie stealing Pee Wee. And you know me and Lizel always got your back.”
I couldn’t figure out what made anybody think that I’d gotten over Lizzie stealing my husband. Especially Wyrita. I was surprised that she would even say something like that. She was still angry about losing her first boyfriend to another girl when she was still in high school, more than ten years ago. I knew that I would eventually get over losing Pee Wee to a woman who I had thought was a friend. But it was one thing that I would never forget. And busybodies like Lizel and Wyrita would make sure of that.