by Mary Monroe
Chapter 47
Lola
RIGHT AFTER I GOT OUT OF BED SATURDAY MORNING A FEW MINUTES before eight, I turned on my computer. Before I could check my e-mail, an instant message popped up on my screen. It was from Elbert!
Good morning, Lola. I’m just checking to see what time you want me to pick you up today. Your boy, Elbert
“Pick me up for what?” I asked myself out loud. I darted across the floor to my cell phone on the nightstand so I could give Elbert a call. He must have already had his cell phone in his hand, because he answered halfway through the first ring. “Good morning, Elbert. I just read your instant message. What is it you’re supposed to be picking me up for today?”
“Well . . .” he began slowly, “last week when I invited you to go to the bingo tournament with me today, you said you’d love to go. Did you forget?” I could hear the disappointment creeping into his voice. “I hope you didn’t, because I’ve really been looking forward to spending some time with you again. There will be a lot of people there, so we need to arrive before eleven if we want to sit at one of the front tables.”
The difference between my feelings for Elbert and Calvin was that I thought about Elbert only when we were together in person or communicating by telephone or online chat. I thought about Calvin almost every hour of the day. “Elbert, I am so sorry. It slipped my mind and I made other plans for today.” I was truly sorry. I didn’t like to hurt or disappoint anybody, because I knew from experience how painful that was. Elbert was such a sweet, loyal, innocent man. He reminded me of a hamster I owned when I was a little girl. But I didn’t even remember telling him that I’d see him today. And I was not about to pass up an afternoon of passion with the man I’d been obsessed with for so long to attend a bingo tournament with Elbert! Especially since he was about as likely to have sex with me as the pope.
“I see.” His voice was so distant now, it sounded like he was talking through the opposite end of the phone.
“I hope it’s not too late for you to ask somebody else to go with you. What about your mother?”
“She’s on her way to the flea market with Sister Barnes from next door, and that’s always an all-day affair for those two.”
“Elbert, I feel terrible about this,” I said, trying to sound as if I was disappointed too. “I knew I should have told Bertha to remind me about the bingo tournament.” I paused because the words were flying out of my mouth so fast I lost my breath for a few seconds. “Can I take a rain check? We can do something else you like real soon.”
Elbert took his time replying. “Yeah, we can do something else. What about the hot-air balloon race in Fresno next Saturday? I know you’d have a good time, because I go every year and I always enjoy myself.”
I had no idea what had made me agree to go to a bingo tournament. Now a hot-air balloon race? I . . . could . . . not . . . believe . . . my . . . ears! “Check with me next Wednesday or Thursday. I’ll let you know then.”
“Okay,” Elbert muttered. “Um, if I’m not being too nosy, what other plans did you make for today?”
“Huh? Oh! I’m going to Reno with a girlfriend I haven’t seen in a while. We might spend the night up there, so I’m not sure when I’ll be back home.”
“Well, I hope you have a good time. I’ll call you next week.”
I hung up, but I stared at the telephone in my hand for a few seconds. As a couple, Elbert and I were going nowhere in the future—except to bingo games, church events, and cheap restaurants. I decided that it was time for me to end our “relationship” so he could find a woman on his level. I didn’t want to hurt him, so I planned to ease out of it gradually. In the meantime, I had a much bigger fish to fry. . . .
My date with Calvin in a few hours made me feel the way I used to feel on Christmas morning when I was a child. I was so excited I could barely stand it!
When I went downstairs a few minutes after my conversation with Elbert, Bertha had already prepared my favorite breakfast: grits, bacon, ham, eggs, and biscuits. A pot of coffee was brewing on the stove.
Jeffrey, Kevin, and Libby were already seated at the kitchen table smacking on their food and talking about watching a football game that Jeffrey had recorded. He planned to watch it tomorrow in Bertha’s living room along with Libby and a bunch of their beer-guzzling friends who had missed the original showing. Bertha hated sports as much as I did. But she was going to watch the game too. She had already cooked up a huge batch of buffalo wings, made enough spinach dip to feed an army, and purchased several six-packs of Corona beer—the only brand Libby would drink. I knew that Bertha was making a mighty effort to keep her happy, but I didn’t see any difference in Libby’s demeanor.
“What’s wrong with you, Mama? That coffee will be nothing but mud by the time you serve it!” Libby yelled. Bertha sprang up out of her seat like a Ping-Pong ball and trotted to the stove, even though Libby was closer.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Bertha apologized, and poured coffee into Libby’s cup.
“And don’t you forget to make sure we have enough ranch dressing, carrot sticks, and celery to go with the wings tomorrow.”
Jeffrey cleared his throat and gave Libby a critical look. “Baby, I told you that I’d take care of all that. Bertha’s done more than enough already.”
“Then you’d better pick up a couple more six-packs too. You remember how upset everybody got when we watched the Super Bowl at the Whitakers’ house last month and ran out of beer before half time.”
“Libby, don’t worry about anything,” Jeffrey insisted, rolling his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned to me. I had poured myself a cup of coffee and remained standing in front of the stove. “Damn, Lola. You must have had a hell of a rough night. Looks like you didn’t sleep well,” Jeffrey exclaimed, giving me a pitiful look. He had never said a mean word to me, so I knew he was not trying to be mean now. He was just making an observation. But if Libby had told me the same thing, I would have been offended.
“Lola always looks this way,” she murmured out the side of her greasy mouth, just loud enough for me to hear.
“I didn’t feel too well last night,” I said, pulling out the chair next to her, and only because it was the only one available.
“You don’t have to work today, so you should get some rest,” Bertha told me. “You don’t want to be too tired to watch that ball game with us tomorrow, sweetie.”
“I feel just fine now, but I won’t be watching that game tomorrow.” I would rather get a whupping than sit in front of a TV and watch any ball game. As soon as the words left my mouth, all eyes were on me. “I’m going to meet up with one of my former classmates this afternoon,” I announced. “We’re going to drive up to Reno today, and we might spend the night.” I didn’t know how much time I was going to spend with Calvin, but I was prepared to stay as long as he wanted, even the whole night.
“I hope you’ll be back home in time to drive me to my foot doctor’s office before you go to work Monday morning. My appointment is for seven-thirty. You know how much I hate having to take cabs and buses,” Bertha complained.
Libby’s and Jeffrey’s vehicles were much more comfortable and reliable than mine. But when Bertha needed to go somewhere, she usually asked me to take her.
“Mama, I can drop you off on my way to work Monday morning,” Jeffrey said, giving me a wink.
It seemed like there was no way for me not to ruffle Libby’s feathers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hot look she shot in my direction when Jeffrey winked at me.
I was glad when she got up and left the kitchen, pulling Jeffrey away by his hand.
When Bertha and Kevin left the room, I started cleaning up.
Fifteen minutes later, when I was drying the last of the dishes, Libby returned. “Lola, why don’t you use the dishwasher?” She opened the refrigerator and snatched out a bottle of Corona. She removed the cap with her teeth like a roughneck hillbilly and blew it into the trash container next to the sink. And th
en she took such a long pull, the bottle was half-empty when she stopped.
“I don’t mind washing the dishes by hand,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Sometimes our dishwasher doesn’t do the job completely.”
“Whatever.” Libby lifted her chin and stared at me with her eyes narrowed. “I hope you forgot about what you saw that day. . . .”
“You mean you and that dude?” I said with one eyebrow raised, placing a hand on my hip. I threw in a mighty neck roll for emphasis, a gesture Libby often displayed. “We don’t need to talk about you having sex with that man anymore.”
“Shhh! You want everybody in the house to hear my business?”
“You brought it up, Libby. I hadn’t given it any more thought since it happened.”
“Maybe not, but I know how you like to yip-yap with the neighbors and those chatty hens at the beauty shop. You haven’t mentioned it to anybody yet, and you won’t.” I couldn’t tell if Libby was making a statement or a threat.
Chapter 48
Lola
IT DIDN’T MATTER IF LIBBY AND I WERE INVOLVED IN A DISPUTE OR not, the impact of our volatile relationship had begun to take a serious toll on me. Lately, just her presence was enough to make me want to move out of Bertha’s house and not look back. I knew in my heart that it would come to that someday. I was almost at a point where I didn’t care what happened to Bertha if I left her at the mercy of her children. With or without a husband to fall back on, I had to think about holding on to my sanity. I had lost some of my dignity years ago, but I was determined to restore it—once I had “escaped.”
“Did you hear what I just said?” Libby asked with her neck rolling and her finger wagging in my face.
“I heard you. As long as you don’t give me a reason to discuss it with anybody, I won’t,” I responded.
“I love my husband.”
“Sure you do. I can tell.”
“Whether you know it or not, Jeffrey and I are very happy together, so don’t you even think about causing trouble between us.”
“You’re worried about me causing trouble between you and your husband? I suggest you tell that to the man you brought to the house and fucked on your mama’s couch.”
Libby gasped. “I don’t know who you think you are messing with, but you need to watch your step, girl. I could make you very uncomfortable and you know it!”
“I could make you even more uncomfortable too. Now if you don’t mind, I need to finish the dishes so I can go get ready to meet my friend.”
Libby stayed in the kitchen while I finished up, and then I headed toward the staircase. Less than two minutes after I got to my room, she barged in still clutching her beer bottle, which was now almost empty. She closed the door and sat down next to me on my bed. She seemed bewildered. I had no idea what she was about to say or do this time. I was scared.
“Lola, can I talk to you? I know you’re leaving in a little while, so I won’t take long.”
“What about?” I scooted a few inches away from her and folded my arms. “I thought you’d said all you had to say to me about me keeping your business with Greg to myself.”
“I’m through talking about that,” she said as she waved her hand. “I swear, if you don’t bring it up again, I won’t either.” For the first time, Libby seemed almost bashful. She could barely look me in the eye. She kept clearing her throat and blinking. All this was even more disturbing than her sitting next to me on my bed—something she’d never done before. “We’ll be out of here by summer, and I’d like to get along with you a little better so it’ll be easy for you to tolerate me, and vice versa.”
By summer? We were only in March. Just the thought of spending a few more days living under the same roof with Libby chilled me to the bone. Several more months would be like a prolonged illness. “That’s a long way off,” I said with a mighty gulp.
“I know it is. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it is what it is.” Libby actually seemed nervous. And that made me nervous. “Uh, I’d like to talk to you about something else.” She drank some of her beer and then she exhaled. I noticed a tremor in her hand, and I couldn’t imagine what was causing it. “I hope you know that I don’t mean all the nasty things I say to you.”
I almost choked on my tongue. “Excuse me? Then why do you say so many nasty things to me?”
“It’s just my nature. It’s a way for me to feel like . . . uh . . . like I’m somebody.”
I was curious now. I didn’t think this woman had a humble or remorseful bone in her body. I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I glanced at my watch.
“Don’t worry about the time. It’ll only take a few more minutes for me to say what’s on my mind,” she told me.
“Whatever it is, do you think this is a good time?”
She nodded. “Lola, I’m a real bitch to you.”
I gasped and did a double take. “Oh really? Well, it took you long enough to admit it!”
“Please hear me out.”
“I’m listening,” I replied with my arms still folded.
“But I wasn’t always a bitch. When I was in junior high and high school, I wasn’t too attractive. And I was a little on the heavy side. The cute, popular girls made fun of me and the boys called me all kinds of names. The only dates I went on were with the pretty girls’ rejects or the pimply faced hounds nobody else but girls like me would date.”
“But you have a lot of friends now, so I assumed you’d been real popular in school.”
Libby shook her head. “Only because of Jeffrey. When we got together, his friends became my friends. He was the first handsome guy to pay any attention to me. And when he did, I took him and ran. I had no idea what he saw in me, and I didn’t ask. I’m forty-four years old and I look it. So far, Greg is only the second handsome man to want me. And by the way, he dumped me last night. He said you catching us must be a warning sign for him to stop cheating on his wife. He doesn’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to lose Jeffrey. So I’m done fooling around with other men.” She stared at the floor for a few moments, and when she looked back at me I saw one of the most miserable women I’d ever seen in my life.
I had always felt sorry for Libby because she was so crude and unlikable. I figured a woman like her deserved to be pitied, not despised. I wasn’t sure what I thought about her now. In a way, I wanted to hear what else she had to say. And when she did, she dropped a bombshell. “You are a very lucky woman, Lola. A woman with your looks can’t even relate to what I’ve been through.”
I had to shake my head because I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. “A woman with my looks? You . . . you think I’m pretty?” I asked, more curious than ever now. I was amazed at how cool and calm Libby was acting and sounding.
She snapped her fingers and blew out a loud “Pffft!” Then she said something I never thought she’d say to me. “Girl, you look like a film star. Joan does too, but don’t tell her I said so. Her being the wife of a rich hunk like Reed, she already thinks her shit don’t stink. So does every other female in her family. Her sister, Elaine, was a couple of years behind me in high school, but we had a few classes together. She was one of the girls who made fun of me. She was even worse when she was modeling swimsuits in L.A. and hanging out with celebrities. Every time I ran into her on the street when she came up here to visit her folks, she said something mean and nasty to me.”
“I didn’t know that. Joan never told me.”
“She probably doesn’t know. Elaine was real nice to me at Joan’s wedding, so I’m sure she’s forgotten how nasty she was to me when we were young. But I got the last laugh on her. I still have a husband, and she doesn’t.” Libby paused and gave me a pleading look. “And I want to keep my husband.”
“If Jeffrey ever finds out about you and Greg, it won’t be from me. That’s a promise.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I act the way I do because it makes me feel better about myself
and it makes me feel special, like you must feel.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re envious of me?”
“What? Hell, no, I’m not envious of you!” Libby said hotly. Then her voice got cool and calm again. “I’m just trying to explain my behavior.” She got up off the bed, still clutching her bottle. She suddenly finished what was left of her beer and let out a mild burp. “I’m too old to change, so don’t get too upset when I talk trash to you the next time.”
I stood up too. Had there not been such a sneer on Libby’s face, I would have given her a hug.
“That’s that. And I’m glad to get it over with,” she said with a triumphant look. “Now, I hope you and your friend have a good time in Reno this weekend.”
“I’m sure we will,” I predicted. Now I wasn’t so sure I was going to tell Calvin about Libby having an affair. If I did, I’d have to tell him about this conversation too.
She started backing toward the door, but I stayed in the same spot. “Thanks, Libby.”
“Thanks for what?”
“For being so honest with me.”
“Don’t thank me. I did this more for my benefit than yours, and so you wouldn’t rat me out about Greg.” She gave me a sheepish grin and I just shook my head. “Like I just said, I’m too old to change my ways.”
“Well, at least the next time you say something mean to me, I won’t take it so hard.”
“Whatever.” Libby looked around the room and then back at me. “Anyway, there are always a lot of women in Reno younger and better looking than you. But I hope you and your friend meet some hot dudes up there. Marshall told me he thinks the only thing wrong with you is, you’ve never been properly laid. . . .”
It seemed as if the old Libby was back. My response to her comment was a mild shrug. When she realized she was not going to get a rise out of me, she plucked the latest issue of Today’s Black Woman magazine off my dresser and pranced back out the door.
And that was that.