by Greg Lilly
“Tim? Do you see him much?”
“Your brother’s busy with a new housing development up around the university area. I never seen houses thrown together so quick and sold at such a price.” She shook her head.
I grabbed my bags, and she led me back to the guest bedroom. The house only had two bedrooms; the third had been turned into a reading room with their books. No one had ever made any remarks about Ruby and Walterene sleeping in the same room, the same bed. I hadn’t thought much about it, that was just the way things had always been.
The guest room looked out onto the back yard. Walterene’s love of plants showed in the clumps of tiger lilies, violet blue irises, climbing thorny roses, and shiny-leafed camellias lining the fence. She had a small goldfish pond near the cellar door; I noticed the small stone waterfall had been turned off. Two wrought iron chairs sat next to a table facing the pond. Everything about the house had shadows of two people. Ruby would have a hard time being here alone.
She stood in the doorway watching me.
“The yard looks great. I noticed the tulips at the corner.”
“They’re on their last legs. We usually start ripping them up about this time. Walterene wanted to put scarlet sage in that bed this summer.” She looked down, then back at me. “Maybe you can help me with that next week.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but I’ll help all I can.”
“Ruby,” a voice called from the back door.
We went to the den and found Valerie carrying a casserole dish into the kitchen. “Derek? What are you doing here?” Her green eyes were wide with the question. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. I didn’t think…” She set the casserole on the stove. “I’m glad you came home.” She hugged me hard. At forty-one, she still looked like the teenage big sister I remembered from childhood. She wore little make-up and kept her hair shoulder length; wearing a gray business suit, she looked the part of an accountant. She hadn’t gone to Carolina, Duke, or Wake Forest like our brother or cousins, but instead went to the community college and worked her way up in a firm outside the Harris empire. She was a beautiful woman in her own way, independent, smart, and kind. “Aunt Ruby, Aunt Edwina sent this chicken casserole. I picked it up on my way home from work.” She turned her attention back to me. “Derek, why didn’t you tell me you were coming in?”
“Oh,” Ruby interrupted, “that was my fault. I meant to call you after I talked to him this morning, but time got away from me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” My sister hugged me again. The strength of her body, her arms, impressed me; she still possessed her high school cheerleader body. “I’m just glad he’s here. Do you want to stay with me?”
“No thanks. Ruby and I will be fine here.” I wanted to keep her company, especially with the funeral being the next day. “Hey, isn’t there a visitation tonight at the funeral home?”
“Last night,” Valerie corrected. “The Builders’ Ball is tonight, so we had the visitation last night.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, the family didn’t want to make people choose between the two.” Val looked out the window and wiped her nose with a paper towel.
Walterene’s visitation, treated as just another item for the social calendar? No need to ask, the scheduling reeked of Gladys the Bitch. Or was my assumption too hard on our mother? Valerie and Tim didn’t clash with her the way I did; of course they hadn’t dropped the “I’m gay” bomb on her.
Ruby peeked under the foil of the casserole, stuck her finger in, and tasted. “Not bad. Edwina was never much of a cook, but this is one of her better dishes.” The comforting aroma of chicken casserole filled the kitchen. “Valerie, stay for dinner. Neighbors and family have stuffed our refrigerator with food. We, I will never be able to eat it all before it goes bad.”
Val looked at me, then to Ruby, and back to me. “I’d love to. I have too many Friday nights alone in front of the television. I’ll go home and change. Back in twenty minutes.” She hugged me again and kissed my forehead. “Derek, thanks for coming in.”
“Sure, Sis.” My eyes stung a little.
“REMEMBER WHEN TIM took you to that strip club out on Wilkinson Boulevard?” Valerie laughed and took another sip of her wine. We ate in the dining room with the lights dimmed and candles lit. “I was never so mad at him. You were way too young.”
“I was fourteen,” I explained to Ruby, “and Tim had asked me if I had ever seen a naked woman. Of course I hadn’t, so he took me to this nasty little bar on Wilkinson.”
Ruby frowned over her empty dinner plate.
“He had no right to do that,” Valerie huffed, but then smiled again.
“The bouncer knew Tim,” I looked at Val and snickered because, in his early twenties, our brother had stuffed most of his weekly salary into the G-strings of strippers, “and he made Tim take me into a private room so the other customers wouldn’t see me.”
“That Tim.” Ruby shook her head. This seemed to be a habit with her when she thought about him.
“Anyway, girl after girl came into the room and danced. They teased me, rubbed their tits against my crotch, tried to take my pants off, and I fought them the entire time. I thought they were disgusting.” I lowered my voice as if someone else might hear.
“Apparently, in the private rooms, the girls can take off everything. One girl, a blonde, or at least at first glance a blonde, danced with her little G-string on until she noticed I had little interest in her talents. She hooked one leg over my shoulder and started to thrust her crotch in my face. God, the smell! That salmon and rose scent still comes back. She ripped off the G-string and there I was face to face with the ugliest thing I’d ever seen.”
“Eeeww,” Val cried out.
I leaned into the table. “It looked like a pulsating open wound with a beard of black hair. I almost threw up.”
“Stop it!” Val yelled.
Ruby giggled.
“Well,” Val defended, “a penis isn’t the prettiest thing in the world.”
“Valerie!” Ruby’s face turned as crimson as her hair.
“Well, it’s not,” she laughed.
“I never met one I didn’t like,” I countered. “Besides-”
“Okay, that’s enough, children.” Ruby halted the conversation, although she still snickered. “Oh, it’s good to laugh again.”
I poured her another glass of wine, then got up to take away the dirty dishes.
“Quit that,” Ruby ordered. “I can clear the table.”
“No, let me. You sit there and relax. Enjoy your wine.” I gathered up the plates. Valerie took the empty casserole dish and bread plate.
“This is good wine,” Ruby giggled. “All this talk about privates has got me flustered.” She fanned herself with her napkin. “Oh, Lordy me.”
Val rinsed the dishes and handed them to me to place in the dishwasher. “She’s so lively since you got in.”
“More like since we uncorked the wine,” I laughed.
“Nonetheless, it was thoughtful of you to come in. She needs us now.” Val shook her head. “Aunt Walterene was upset with the Board. A lot of changes are happening.”
“Did they do something to cause the stroke?”
“No, no, but,” Valerie hesitated, “there is some stress among the family.”
“How long was Walterene in the hospital?”
Over the spray of the running water, Valerie whispered, “She died on the way there. The paramedics wouldn’t let Ruby ride with her; she blames herself for not being with Walterene during her last moments.”
“I know what she means. I had friends beg to come home to die; they wanted to be out of the hospital, the constant noise, the smell of death and sickness; surrounded by strangers is no way to die.” Losing friends to AIDS had tied me to the same mindset as people in their sixties, seventies, and eighties: facing mortality, planning wakes and funerals, strategizing how to die with dignity among friends and loved ones. “How’s the re
st of the family taking it?”
“Great-Aunt Ernestine says she should have gone first. ‘No mother should have to bury her daughter,’ she told me.”’ Valerie wiped tears from her eyes. “Of course, Mother, Vernon, and the other cousins are heartbroken, too. It has called a temporary truce to their bickering over the business.”
Ruby yelled in from the dining room, “What are you two doing in there? Just set that in the sink, and I’ll take care of it in the morning.”
Valerie went to the doorway. “Aunt Ruby, we’re almost finished. Can I get you some dessert?”
“No, dear. I’m big as a house. I can barely pull my girdle on each Sunday.”
I closed up the dishwasher. “We can talk about this after Ruby goes to bed.”
We said our goodnights to Ruby. She kissed us both and hobbled off to bed. Once she was gone, Valerie and I settled down on the couch in the warm paneled den with more wine and cigarettes. “So, tell me what is going on with the Board.”
“Derek, it’s such a mess. Uncle Vernon is grooming his boys to take over so he can work on his Senate campaign.”
” Vernon is running for Senate?” I couldn’t believe it. Vernon was Mother’s brother and the oldest of the grandchildren of Ernest, who started the business. Like past North Carolina politicians, he wallowed in family money, but portrayed himself as a self-made, hardworking, blue collar worker who had done well. Conservatism to him meant family, no welfare, plenty of tobacco subsidies for the farmers, catering to big business under the table, and everyone should be white, Protestant, heterosexual, and preferably wealthy men.
“Sorry to say it, but yes, he’s running. City council and mayor never satisfied him.” She took a drag on my cigarette.
“Hopefully, the voters will see through his facade.”
The look she gave me confirmed that Jesse Helms Republicans still ruled the state. “If he doesn’t make it this year, next election will be a shoe-in.”
“So, what’s happening with the Board?”
” Vernon is trying to squeeze out any family who doesn’t agree with the boys taking over.”
Retrieving the cigarette from her, I inhaled the sweet smoke as I considered Uncle Vernon’s sons Mike and Mark, and son-in-law Gerald. Mark’s image drowned out other thoughts, his smile, his laugh, the warmth of his touch. I wanted to see him again, even though our secret relationship led to my mother sending me away. No one knew Mark had been the reason I’d told my parents I’m gay, but I was glad I did. Still, the hurt of losing him, of losing my family, burned deep. No blame pointed to him or to my announcement to my parents; I placed the fault on Gladys, her closed-mindedness, her concern for the opinions of Charlotte society, her need for social status.
“Edwinaand Roscoe,” Val continued, “have always kept their hands in the business. Mom and Dad let Vernon do things his way. Ruby doesn’t really care, but keeps her shares. Walterene sided with Edwina and Roscoe.” Val took another sip of wine.
“Sided?” I asked. “On what?”
“The direction of the company. The boys want to diversify by building the residential business that Tim works in. Mark pushes more uptown condo projects. Did you know he and Kathleen live inFourth Ward now?”
“No.” A sharp pain shot through my gut. “He’s still the golden boy, isn’t he?”
” Vernon doesn’t really favor himover Mike, treats them both like Jesus Christ incarnate.” She winked at me.
Does she know about me and Mark? No, no one knows, I reassured myself and ground out the cigarette. Best to keep it that way. “Wouldn’t Walterene, Edwina, Roscoe, and Ruby have enough shares to take over the Board?”
“No, Vernon made sure he had Mom’s and the remaining shareholders’ backing before he started any changes. In fact, things got so out of hand at the last meeting, Vernon called the police to remove Roscoe from the building.”
“Damn.” I couldn’t believe they had gotten so hostile. “Bet that pissed off Grandma.”
“She hit the roof, mostly because it made the papers. She said Papa Ernest would have taken every one of them to the woodshed.
“It doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Val continued. “Mike and Gerald are focusing on commercial development; Mark wants to develop more upscale condominiums in Uptown and heads up subdivision development on the outskirts of town.”
“So why the disagreement? Roscoe and the rest should be glad the company’s branching out.” I lit up another cigarette and poured more wine.
“Number one, it’s riskier than commercial. Two, they aren’t crazy about Vernon ‘s sons taking over; we’re all still viewed as children. Plus, it leaves little likelihood that their kids will get a piece of the company.”
“Who’d want it? Constant fighting, family and business bound together, money and past hurts; it’s a recipe for dysfunction.” I noticed Val yawning. “I’m still on west coast time; I bet you’re tired.”
“Yeah, with the funeral tomorrow,” she looked at her watch, “correction, today, I need to get to bed.”
We stood up and hugged. This was what family should feel like:
open, safe, a place where things can be discussed without fear of backstabbing or harsh judgments. Of course, I only felt that with Walterene, Ruby, and Valerie. “Are you okay driving home?”
“Yeah, I’m just a couple of blocks up Park Road. Now you get some sleep. There will be a lot of family tomorrow. Mom will probably shit when she sees you.” She laughed, then quieted herself. “Ruby’s sleeping,” she whispered.
“I’m not the one making all the noise,”
Val grinned. “Get your beauty rest. It’s going to be interesting.”
Chapter Three
“MOM WANTED TO come over to help get Ruby ready for church,” Valerie had arrived early, “but I talked her out of it. I told her too many people fussing around Ruby would upset her.”
I poured coffee for Valerie. “Good, I would rather see her in a crowd where I can avoid her as much as possible.”
“Less stressful for the both of you,” she agreed. “You know…”
“No, I will not try to mend fences with Gladys the Bitch.”
“Derek! Watch your mouth.” Anger flashed in her eyes. “Mom has tried to do what she thought was best for us. Sometimes, her plans didn’t work out.”
“What’s best for us?” I fumed. “What’s best? She threw me out of the house.”
“No, she sent you to college.”
“She wanted me away from Charlotte.”
“She wanted you to grow up to be-”
“To be her puppet. A wife named Puddin’ who’s active in the church, children at Charlotte Country Day, me making contacts and climbing my way to the top, and a mansion in Myers Park. That’s her dream, not mine.”
Valerie shook her head. “No, she’s lived that life. She wanted something better for you.”
“Well, she should be happy; I have a better life than that. I have loyal friends and a job I love.”
“That’s what is important.” Ruby startled us. She entered the kitchen in her plain black dress, ready for the funeral. “One more thing you need: someone who loves you.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she picked up a small colorful porcelain elephant that sat on the corner shelf, next to dog-eared cookbooks. She patted it gently, and set it back in its place.
“Aunt Ruby,” Val put her arms around her, “we love you; you aren’t alone.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” A faint smile trembled on her painted lips as she looked from Valerie to me.
A silence settled over us, heavy and thick.
Walterene’s spirit hovered within the house; I sensed it coming from her gardening books, her chair, the pictures of family on the walls, and from Ruby. She stayed strong without Walterene, although I knew that was the hardest thing she had ever done. Walt had been the dominant one, the woman who could talk the car mechanic into a discount, not from argument, but with compliments and listening and winning him over. She beamed
with the love and kindness and understanding of each person she encountered. Ruby was the flirtatious one. She batted her eyes and laughed at silly jokes; she cooked and cleaned and shopped, while Walterene gardened, fixed leaky faucets, and debated politics. The combination kept them together; they complemented each other.
Her spirit lingered. I wanted to wrap it around me, to be part of me, absorbed into the man I wanted to become.
A low, dull car horn blew outside, and Valerie checked out the window. “The limousine is here. Let’s get to church.” She set her coffee mug in the sink and took Ruby’s hand to escort her out the door.
MYERS PARK BAPTIST, fairly liberal for a Baptist church in the South, was filled with Charlotte ‘s finest citizens. The banks were represented by their chairmen, sitting on opposite sides of the aisle like it was Trade Street, Wachovia to the south and Bank of America to the north. The Belk department store family, represented by McKay and his Uncle John, sat just behind Ed Williams from the Charlotte Observer. In the front rows, I saw Mother and Father; Tim, Laura, and their two children sat behind them. Grandma Eleanor sat stone-still between Mother and Vernon. Next to Uncle Vernon was his wife Irene, and finishing out the pew were Mike and Sheila, Margaret and Gerald. Mark should’ve been with his brother and sister, but I didn’t see him. Across the aisle, Walterene’s mother, Great-Aunt Ernestine, sat flanked by Edwina and Roscoe on one side and Ruby’s brothers, Sam and Odell, on the other. Ernestine cried so hard her thin shoulders shook. Ruby led us toward the seats next to Edwina.
As we approached the altar, I caught Mother’s glance. Her head nearly snapped off when she realized it was me. She elbowed Father to get his attention; he smiled when he saw me, but she caught him. Tim and Laura looked, and their kids pointed.
Valerie and I sat down. Ruby crossed past Edwina and Roscoe to hug Ernestine. The old woman’s gnarled hands gripped Ruby, and they both trembled under the weight of their tears. The organist started a slow hymn that sounded familiar, but I didn’t know the title. I hummed a little to keep my mind off the reason we were there. I couldn’t cry in front of these people. “Men don’t cry,” Mother had always taught us. Ruby sat between me and Valerie, holding each of our hands in her tight cold grip.