She looked up when the security guard tapped on her window. “Are you alright, Miss?”
What a stupid question, she thought. But he was just doing his job. It wasn’t his fault. She usually found someone else to blame for her predicament. But this time she had no one to blame but herself. Why hadn’t she brought the payment? She knew why. She had taken the money to the casino. She had been up eight hundred dollars and knew she should have left. But she stayed and gave most of it back. Why do I keep doing this? She really hadn’t been too concerned at the time. She had set a limit like they tell you and gone in with two hundred dollars. When that was gone, she got up and left. She had called and left a message that she would bring the payment in this week. Nothing I can do now, she thought as she glanced at her watch.
She made it to the hospital, locked her coat and purse in her locker, then rushed to her floor. As she went to the nurse’s station, her coworker handed her the telephone.
“Miss Brown, please come to human resources.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Cecelia pasted on a smile then made the trip to the human resources office in the annex. As she passed the cafeteria, her stomach growled and she remembered she hadn’t eaten.
“Miss Brown, here is the Second Notice of Policy Infraction we discussed a few weeks ago.”
“What is this?”
“You were late today. When we last met, you had a ninety-day probation period to avoid a more serious action. That included no unexcused absences or tardies. You are being placed on unpaid leave.”
“I was on my way to work, but had a personal emergency.”
“Unless it was a verifiable illness or accident, it’s an unexcused absence. Do you have a doctor’s excuse or accident report?”
“No, but I’m just thirty minutes late, and I always work more than forty hours.”
“This is a hospital. We are responsible for people’s lives and must have a dependable staff.”
“So when it’s in the hospital’s favor, that’s fine. But when it’s not, tough luck. How long is the leave?”
“Ninety days.”
“Ninety days? Is there someone I can appeal to?”
“No. Those were the conditions you agreed to when you signed your performance improvement plan. I suggest you contact the employee assistance number. They offer free counseling and may be able to help you.”
Unless they could counsel her on how to track down whoever had the stuff from her storage unit, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. This lady probably dealt with all kinds of functioning alcoholics and addicts, but she wasn’t like them.
Cecelia left human resources and went directly to the parking lot. She had some items in her desk, but didn’t want to see the nurses on her floor. They were probably the ones that sold her out in the first place. As many times as she had given up her off days and worked for them, or covered for them when husbands, boyfriends, supervisors called, who was there when she needed a favor? She then noticed she had missed a phone call and text from Gabriel. The hospital was like a little city and the news about her status was probably already public knowledge. How would she ever face them or Gabriel? And how would she make it ninety days with no pay?
BEVERLY
A benefit of no longer being in the Anthony business, is mornings like this. I slept with my window cracked, something Anthony would never allow. He was taught that sleeping with windows open let in sickness. He said he wasn’t superstitious but why take the risk. There were window units in the kitchen and in my parent’s bedroom, but my parents were stingy about using them. They preferred to open our windows whenever the weather allowed. Memphis morning air isn’t the same as Eden, but I’ll take it. There’s a light breeze coming in and I can faintly hear birds chirping in the distance. One of the neighbors has already fired up their grill, and the smell makes me long for some of Daddy’s ribs. I thought about going downstairs to take a slab out of the freezer, but like an athlete the day after the big game, I’m too sore to move. My neck is stiff and my wrists still tingle. Too bad every weekend can’t be like this, I thought as I searched through my nightstand drawer for my wristband.
Yesterday the salon was super-busy. Customers we hadn’t seen in months called for an appointment and we had several walk-ins. Seems like everybody came out of hibernation to get their hair done for Mother’s Day. Even Mark called several times to check on me. I had feigned a stomach ache the weekend we were supposed to go to the jazz festival. He has been on an extended east coast stretch, and his runs haven’t brought him to Memphis lately, but he did send flowers. Everyone was kind, knowing I recently lost my mother.
But we were so busy, my mind stayed focused on the job at hand. We didn’t close until eight o’clock. Everyone paid their booth rent and even the soda machine sold out. And not a moment too soon. The extension I got on the light bill expires this week. I was dreading having to ask Anthony for the money, so yesterday’s rush was right on time.
It’s been a while since I’ve been in the salon for Mother’s Day weekend. The last few years I spent this weekend with Mama. Even though it was Mother’s Day, she spent the days before preparing and wouldn’t let us take her out to dinner. She said she wanted to fix what her children liked, and her present was just having us there. The Saturday before Mother’s Day was the Spring Tea, sponsored by the Ladies Auxiliary of Friendship Missionary Baptist Church. I always spent Mother’s Day in Eden, but hadn’t gone to the tea since I was grown. The year before she died, Mama was the Chair and I went to support her. When I was growing up, those events seemed long and boring. This time, I actually enjoyed it and promised to join her every year. It was a promise I didn’t get a chance to keep. Now Mother’s Day is like Valentine’s Day for someone getting over a lost love, but I’m making progress. I stayed in bed two weeks after Mama’s funeral. Then I progressed to getting depressed on Fridays, the day she died and the day of the funeral. Then I progressed to the fifteenth of the month, the date she died. Just like a newborn’s life is initially measured in weeks, then months, then years, I commemorated Mama’s passing in stages. Tomorrow will be my second Mother’s Day without her. Seems like everyone left at the same time. Mama is gone, Tony is fighting a crazy war, and Anthony is history. But I can’t afford to drown my sorrows in my pillow. I need to work. I just got a notice that I have to start making payments on the loan I took out for Tony’s tuition, since he’s not in school. I used to teach at the cosmetology school, but they’re cutting back too, so they didn’t renew my contract. My insurance went up, even though the accident wasn’t my fault, and I still haven’t gotten my settlement. Anthony may have been a rogue, but he did take care of home. Between his job, barbering on the weekends, and picking up side contracting jobs, he paid the bulk of the bills and my money was for extras. He was always good for a hundred dollars walking around money, and he kept my gas tank full.
The grief counselor said holidays will never be the same and you have to create new traditions. But what else can you do on a day to honor your mother, when your mother is gone? Mark said this would be a good time for me to meet his mother, but I told him no. I know I wouldn’t want to spend Mother’s Day with Tony and some new girlfriend. Carolyn will be entertaining her mother-in-law. She invited, actually pleaded with me to come visit. But as much as I dread being alone, I don’t want to do that either. I presume Cecelia is working – haven’t heard from her lately. Raymond will be with his own family, and Carl and Daddy are spending the day with Aunt Belle. Everyone seems to be coping just fine. I know they all miss Mama, but as the oldest girl, I feel our bond was the closest. While the others were away building their lives, I was seventy-five minutes away. We talked almost every day and I went to Eden at least once a week, but I was usually in a rush. The shop was busy, or I needed to get back to do something for Anthony or Tony.
How ironic, now I have plenty of time but Mama is gone, and Daddy has become a man about town. I don’t have to rush back to the salon because business ha
s been terrible. I used to turn away walk-ins and most of my customers had standing appointments. But so many of them have cut back, that I’ve started handing out business cards to solicit new business. My best barber said he’s not making enough money and cut back to weekends so he could get a full time job. They say Wall Street is reaching new highs, but that boom has not trickled down to my neighborhood. Also, lots of folks are going to natural hair styles. They come in for a cut or color, but those visits are much less frequent than when they had a perm.
But it’s too pretty a day to be sad. Even though Mama’s not here, I still have lots to be thankful for. Aunt Belle’s accident could have been much worse, so why not celebrate with her? Uncle Nap was her only child and he died a few years ago. Daddy and Carl said they were going to look in on her but neither said anything about food. I’ve got lasagna in the freezer, her favorite dish. Adding garlic bread, green beans and a salad won’t take long, and I’ll stop at the grocery store and buy a cake.
I took a shower, let the water mix with my tears, and had myself a real good cry. Now, I’m through with that. I’m not the first person to lose a parent. If they can make it, I can too. I packed an overnight bag. Just as I finished ironing my sundress, my phone rang.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.”
“It is now that I’ve heard from you,” I said.
“I can’t talk long, but wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Got to go.”
“All right. Be safe, baby. I love you.” I was happy and sad at the same time and said a prayer that the angels would continue to watch over my baby. I finished dressing and was on my way out the door when my phone rang. This time it was Cecelia.
“Hey there. I thought you would be working today,” I said.
“I’m off today. I know you always spent the day with Mama and thought you may need a little cheering up. How are you?” Cecelia asked.
“I’m okay. A little sad, but okay.”
“Well, I’m going to have a few days off work and wanted to know if I can come visit you.”
“Of course. When?”
“The kids are taking me to dinner this afternoon. I thought I’d catch the ten o’clock Megabus and I’ll be there in the morning.”
“The Megabus?”
“I’m trying to save money these days.”
“You certainly have gone from one extreme to the other. I was thinking about staying over in Eden, but I’ll come back if you’re coming. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah. It’s a spur of the moment decision.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Are you sure you’re ok?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. See you in the morning.”
I heard her, but didn’t believe her.
CAROLYN
“We need to talk,” I said as soon as my husband walked in the house.
“What happened to, ‘Hey, baby? Good to see you dear? How was your day honey?’” Derrick asked as he closed the door behind him and put his keys on the table. “I should have known something was wrong when I saw your car in the driveway this early.”
“I didn’t mean to bum-rush you, but it won’t wait and I don’t know how to sugar coat it.”
“Okay, Carolyn, what is it?”
“I’m working with CARE on the fracking lawsuit. The judge approved an injunction that I wrote and filed. It will be in the paper tomorrow.”
“So that’s it? I don’t get a vote?”
“I know how you feel about this but—”
“But you’re doing it anyway. I thought you said you were so busy at work? ”
“I am, but this is personal now. Turns out Brenda signed the leases after Charles passed. We thought she got a lot of insurance money, but it was money from the leases on Charles’ land. They can’t drill on Daddy’s land, but it’s so close, they may as well be. I’ve done a lot of research and it’s criminal what these companies are doing. Fracking is causing water contamination and water pollution everywhere it’s used. They won’t reveal what chemicals they are using, but we do know the toxins cause cancers and all kinds of neurological diseases, especially in small children. I can’t sit by and do nothing.”
“I understand you feel ties to your family; I get that. Helping Carl out of a sham arrest is one thing, but going against big corporations and city leaders is another. You’re not the only lawyer in the family. Tell them to ask your brother.”
“You know Paul is out of the country,” I said.
“Eden may be a small town, but we do have the internet and email. Raymond can contact him anytime.”
“I hope Paul will help, but that still doesn’t mean I sit by and do nothing.”
“Well, you’ve made your decision, now here’s mine. Fracking brings jobs and money. This is one of the poorest counties in one of the poorest states in the country. I’ve worked here twenty years helping people get the most from their land. There was a time when that meant showing them how to irrigate and what pesticides to use. Now it means helping them make decisions about their land. Those leases pay anywhere from five hundred to three thousand dollars a month, plus royalties. You’re asking these folks to walk away from a lot of money. And if you and Raymond are so concerned about saving the world, gas is cleaner and more secure than relying on foreign energy sources. So I say, ‘drill, baby, drill’. But it’s not my decision, yours or Raymond’s. People have to do what’s best for them. And you need to do what’s best for us. I can think of ten other things that would be a better use of your time, and as my wife, I forbid you to pursue this lawsuit. ”
“Did you say forbid?” I asked as I stood.
“You heard me.”
“I did but I can’t believe it. I was not asking your permission.”
“That’s the problem with a lot of things around here,” Derrick said.
“I thought you were my husband, not my father,” I said as I grabbed my purse and phone. “Actually, my father doesn’t even act like this.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Derrick said as he grabbed my arm.
“Let me go.”
“I’m tired of you acting like what I say doesn’t matter. Your allegiance is supposed to be to me, not your brother, or your job.”
“And I’m tired of you acting like King Derrick. Let me go.”
“So you can go running to your family and tell them how mean and unreasonable I am? Just because I want my wife to put our marriage first?”
“It’s not much of a marriage if you have to impose your will on every issue.”
“That’s because you seem to take everyone else’s side on any issue that comes up. Most women would be glad to have a man that wants to take care of them. How could you even consider jeopardizing my job?”
“You’re hurting me,” I said as I tried to twist free. “What happened to your promise not to ever hurt me again?”
“The same thing that happened to your promise to love, cherish, and obey. Sit your ass down,” Derrick said and shoved me into the recliner. I tripped and knocked my computer and the porcelain ashtray to the floor as I fell back to the couch.
“My mother’s ashtray,” I screamed. “Look what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he picked up the pieces. “Luckily it’s in big chunks, I’ll put it back together.”
“Don’t touch it. Put it down,” I said as I grabbed the pieces from him.
“Baby, I know how much this means to you. We’ll fix it,” he said as he reached for my hand.
“Get away from me.”
“You’ll see, it will be as good as new. Look, your hand is bleeding. Let me get a towel.”
“Leave me alone,” I shouted as I struggled to stand and fell back down.
“Just stay there,” Derrick said. “I’ll bring you a warm towel right away. It will be as good as new. You’ll see,” he said as he took my purse, phone, and keys.
“First you forbid me to do anything. Now you take my purse and keys. Am I being held prisoner?”
How could Mama, Steve Harvey, and the Bible be wrong? I waited to give up the cookie. When I considered moving in with Derrick, Mama talked me out of it. He courted me in a way no man had. He showed me his credit report and his background check was clean. I had the passwords to his computer, email, and phone. He paid for my tickets to come see him, paid for my phone upgrade so we could do FaceTime and bought me a computer to leave at home so I wouldn’t have to worry about doing Skype on my work computer. I can sign onto his bank accounts, even though I haven’t given him signing privileges on mine. I was as cautious as can be. So why am I now sitting here searching for an extra set of keys and longing for my single life?
The littlest thing seems to set him off and this subservient role doesn’t fit me well. I’m tired of holding my tongue and tiptoeing around what’s supposed to be my home. Mama managed to let Daddy think he was in control for fifty years, and still get her way. I don’t remember them even raising their voices and I know he never laid a hand on her. Beverly can fight better than most men, and had a drama filled marriage with Anthony, but getting pushed around wasn’t one of her problems. Michael rarely even raised his voice to Cecelia, let alone put a hand on her. I never knew the private details of my brother’s relationships, but I would bet money, abuse was not part of it. But am I being abused? Technically, Derrick has never hit me. He brings his money home and is faithful. Maybe he was right. Have I been single too long? Are these the compromises women make to sustain their families?
The signs were there. While we were dating, he called and texted several times a day. He sent sweet e-cards, thoughtful gifts and insisted I call him as soon as I got home from work. If I worked late, I had to call him to tell him. I thought that was his way of showing he was fully committed, even though it was a long-distance relationship. On one of my visits, I had to finish some reports for work. Derrick had a tantrum and swept the papers off the coffee table. I knew that was over the top, but he explained it away by saying he just wanted us to spend time together. He was extremely jealous, but again, I thought it was cute that he cared that much. He had already apologized, and even Daddy said I shouldn’t work on the lawsuit. But deep down, I know no apology can excuse his behavior today. And if Daddy knew the real Derrick, I wouldn’t have to worry about being a battered wife, I’d be a widow.
Down Home Blues Page 21