by Diane Munier
We stare at one another and I see the first trace of a smile on my Granma’s face and then she laughs a little, then a little more and I laugh too.
“Be careful of your asthma,” I say.
“Oh my. My oh my.”
We’re quiet for a few seconds. “Your father got that way from his daddy doing him like that.”
“Grampa?” The great and glorious grampa that she loved? The man who looked like Norman Bates…I mean Anthony Perkins?
“Yes. That kind of thing is passed one to another…bullying. He was a good husband to me…but he never took to Stanley. And I babied him for it. Your father. He met your mother and…it was quick. Too quick. I knew that.”
I sit back to better see her face.
She runs her hand over my hair, to the tip of my sloppy braid. “My girl. We are quick, impulsive lovers. Stubborn lovers. Can’t tell us a darn thing about it. Not a one of us.”
Maybe it’s that way. But then neither one of them, not my father, and I guess not my granma, though it will take some long thinking to get my mind over this new information about Grandpa, but neither of them picked someone like Easy, apparently. Me and Easy are the exception. We won’t have their kind of broken love.
“Granma, do you wish you wouldn’t have married Grampa?”
She sighs, but it’s cut short and she pulls in a breath that is also short. “Can’t say. It doesn’t work like that. Regret doesn’t do anyone a lick of good unless you learn from it. So I’ve tried to do better with you. You’ve been…a second chance to get some things right.”
“You have gotten them right. You’re the best parent anyone ever had,” I say with heart. I’ve been feeling so mean toward her these past few days, biding my time before I snuck out to find Easy. That was my secret power all along, the knowledge that I’d only put up with this for so long. And I’d watched at night and Easy hadn’t come around so I knew he was biding his time too, trying to stay within the law until it was so ridiculous he said heck with that and came for me.
But now I just feel grateful for my Granma, like never before. “I’m so glad you raised me and not him. I would never want to be stuck with him.”
She laughs a little, but she wipes at a couple of tears. “My girl, we got off, didn’t we? We forgot who we were.”
“Well, I think I’m still trying to find myself, but opposition makes you wake up,” I say. I think I’m trying to say something brilliant and it’s a big thought and I only understand the smallest part of it, but I could almost thank Officer Stanley right now for waking me up from my angry stupor and reminding me about who I might be. I am Granma’s daughter. I am that exactly. I am in love with Easy. That might be stubborn-can’t-tell-me-a-thing-love, but it’s real.
And real is the only way to go even if it includes suffering.
Especially then.
Downstairs there is a note. They have gone for lunch. They will be back in an hour.
That’s when there is a knock on the door.
I know who it is before I ever look and see his outline beyond the lace curtain.
It’s Easy.
Granma lets him in, a sweep of her hand and there I stand, halfway to the kitchen and as soon as I see him I go to him. He’s in uniform and he drops his hat on the floor and I crash against him and it doesn’t even move him an inch he holds me so tight.
“My,” I hear Granma say on a sigh, longer this time because her breath is coming back.
We love stubborn.
Darnay Road 56
Aunt May knocks before I can let go of Easy. I have missed him so much, and it feels like safety now that he’s here, like everything will be all right. His eyes hold the opposite of what I saw in Stanley’s. Easy doesn’t think he’s good but he’s the best man in the whole entire world.
He’s so strong and handsome. He’s what is right…about everything.
But he has to get out of here. He has to run.
Before I can say this Granma is opening the door again and I think it’s Stanley but no, it’s Aunt May.
“Oh my gosh I thought you were Stanley,” I say stepping back from Easy but holding onto his arm. “You have to go. You can’t be here when he gets back.”
“What in the world are you doing here?” Aunt May asks Easy like she came here just to say that.
“I came to see Georgia,” Easy answers, “and talk to her father.”
“No,” Granma and I say in unison.
I’m running my hand over my braid. I’ve just been rolling around on my floor and fighting with Stanley. I’m a mess. We’re a mess.
“You can’t be here,” May says to Easy.
“You’re the one who called me,” he says.
“I said to come to my house first,” May says.
“What are you doing, May?” Granma says.
“I’m trying to help Easy with Stanley,” she says.
“Why would you do that?” Granma says. “You have no idea….”
“I spoke to Stanley before he left with Marsha to go to lunch,” May says. “He’s upset but I think if he meets Easy he’ll see what a fine young man he is.”
“You need to go home. You can’t talk to him,” I say to Easy.
“Sure I can,” Easy says.
“No…I mean…there’s no talking to him,” I say.
“I can try,” Easy says.
“There’s no point,” I say louder because Easy is not hearing me or something.
“It would be better to invite him to talk to you at my house,” May says.
We all look at her.
“A neutral location,” May says.
“What are you talking about May?” Granma says. “You need to leave, Easy. Before he gets back.”
“Can I wait on the porch Miss Vi? I need to speak with him. For Georgia,” Easy says looking at me.
“You’re not going to ask for her hand or some nonsense?” Granma says alarmed.
“Well,” Easy says putting his hand on my arm, “not now. But….”
“He could come back here any minute,” May is saying.
“You don’t need to ask him anything. I don’t care what he says,” I tell Easy.
“I care,” Easy says. “He’s your father. I don’t want to…sneak.”
“It’s not his business. I’m not his business,” I say. “I hate him.”
“Georgia Christine,” Granma says tiredly.
“Go home before he comes back,” I say to Easy moving a little toward the door that Aunt May is blocking.
“Can I wait on the porch Miss Vi?” Easy says to Granma like I didn’t just give him his marching orders.
“You’re not listening,” I say to him.
“This whole thing is my fault and it’s a big fix,” Easy says but he’s looking at Granma mostly. “Georgia didn’t do anything wrong. Everything that got her in trouble was my idea—my fault.”
“There’s no time for this,” Granma says. “Go on to Disbro’s.”
“I’ll stand out on the sidewalk if that’s all right Miss Vi.”
“No!” I say loudly. “You can’t wait on the sidewalk. We just had a terrible fight in here and Granma has asthma. When Stanley is gone you can come back.” Then I look at Granma, “Can’t he Granma?”
“He can wait at my house,” May says. “I’m going to ask Stanley to come over and listen to what Easy has to say.”
“What do you know about any of it?” Granma says to May.
“I’ve…been talking to Easy. I’ve had a change of heart. I think…maybe we judged him too quickly. Too harshly.” May folds her hands and lifts her chin.
“Thank you Aunt May,” I say like I have asthma. I mean I’m kind of out of breath from what she said.
“For heaven sakes,” Granma says rubbing her forehead. “Get in to the table all of you.”
We file in there and Easy sits where he did that first evening when he came home and we hadn’t messed it up yet.
Granma clears the two cold cups of coffee fro
m Stanley and Marsha.
“I can ask Anthony to come over,” Aunt May says kind of wringing her hands on the table.
“What in the world would you do that for?” Granma says pulling a chair.
“Father Anthony?” I say before I can stop it. We all know he’s not father anymore, but I didn’t know he was still in May’s life.
“Just Anthony. The scripture says to call no man father,” May says.
“Oh May,” Granma says holding her head in her hands, elbows on the table like she always tells me not to do.
“I don’t need his permission for anything,” I tell Easy, just so he knows about Stanley and me. I don’t know what he has in his head, but it isn’t like that around here. Granma is the one he needs to keep in his pocket. Well mostly me.
The door opens then and I take a breath. “We’re not asking,” I say to Easy. “We are not asking.”
I mean, permission. We are not asking permission from Stanley.
My father stops in the doorway, looks around. “What’s this?” he says.
Marsha is peeking from around Stanley’s shoulder.
I stand. “This is Easy. I told him not to stay, but he wants to meet you. You better be nice….”
“Georgia,” Granma says sternly.
I shut my trap and sit, my elbow a little in front of Easy because Stanley is not touching Easy.
Then I have to move a little because Easy is standing. He has that hat under his arm and he extends this hand over the table, kind of over Granma even. “How do you do, sir?”
Granma sits back more. She wants to see this, but Stanley should know, Easy is surrounded by friends—me for sure, my Granma, and Aunt May.
“I’m Ethan Caghan,” Easy says. I almost forget he’s Ethan Caghan sometimes but we’re throwing his name all over the place today.
He waits for Stanley, his hand in the air.
“Well shake it at least,” I say to Stanley also standing, nodding toward Easy’s hand just extended there looking for something from my ass of a dad.
Stanley swallows, his throat working, his eyes burning into Easy, into me. He looks pushed as he takes an awkward step into the kitchen. I realize Marsha has pushed him.
Stanley clears his throat and takes another step toward the table and that puts him close enough. He looks at me and shakes Easy’s hand.
And the roof does not even fall in.
I may not ever love Stanley. I really don’t like him. But right then, it’s okay that I came from him. I can live with it maybe.
“Got my daughter in all the trouble,” Stanley says.
They just shake once, but it’s enough for both of them. They let go.
“Yes sir. It was all my fault. I wanted to see the church. Guess I didn’t know I was tired.”
You can hear the clock on the wall making a whirring noise.
Easy sits back down.
Stanley has questions then, about the service. Stanley has his hands on his hips like he’s interrogating a punk in his big blue uniform or something. But Easy answers Stanley with no problem. He sounds about so smart I’m very proud.
Then it takes a left turn, Stanley does. “That was some business back there with your dad,” he says.
I feel it run through Easy then, this other thing that makes him breathe in twice as big. “Yes sir.”
“Well, best thing you can do is try to make something of yourself,” Stanley, in all his infinite wisdom concludes.
Easy doesn’t say anything. No more ‘sirs,’ at least.
“He’s a good boy,” Granma says.
“Yes,” Aunt May echoes.
I really can’t believe it. Not that Easy is good because he is the very best. But the back-up for Easy.
“Easy is the very best person ever,” I say to Stanley, very loudly. What I mean is, ‘you don’t come close dear old dad.’
Stanley is stewing on that a little. “You know Georgia is too young for a boyfriend,” he says.
“Well…,” Easy looks at me, “we been friends for years.”
“That’s fine,” Stanley says, “but I know what kind of a fool a sixteen year old boy is even if he wears a uniform. Now she’s got punishment from your last little deal, and you need to get back to the base and keep doing that thing where you rise above your circumstances.”
“I am going back, sir. Next week.”
“In the meantime you don’t be trying to cool your heels around here,” Stanley says.
I stand up quick. My body ahead of my words.
“You go on back to your life in Chicago,” I say. “Don’t be cooling your heels around here. It may have been your home first, but it hasn’t been yours in a while. We don’t need you.”
“You don’t need me?” He gets red in the face and he’s got a vein in his forehead filling up like a garden hose.
“Charles,” Marsha says from behind him, just like a good woman, you know, one behind every good man or every asshole of a man. There has to be somebody to shit on I guess.
“I will pick my friends,” I say hotly. I know I’m making it worse, but I’ve got so many words piling up in me I think they were hiding in there like an extra liver or something.
“Georgia Christine, sit down,” Granma says. Her soft voice pierces all that angry rambling in my head.
“Granma, I….” I don’t even know how to explain myself.
“Sit down,” Granma says. “Stanley we are done here for today. Raising Georgia, for all the mistakes I can make, has always come naturally to me.”
“That why we got this trouble Ma?” Stanley says, that strange younger tone coming to him again.
“And what child do you raise that does not give you a few bumps along the way?” Granma says, voice louder and hands on the table to better turn her body so she faces him. “Should I remind you?”
She gets him with that one. Guess old Stanley wasn’t so perfect. He’s looking over the group now.
“Don’t be foolish,” he says to her.
“It’s not my foolishness I’m talking about,” Granma says.
Back to the clock, whirr, whirr.
Stanley glares at me a little, then he turns it on Easy. “I’ve been right where you are now. I’d tell you what a damn fool you are, but you wouldn’t listen. You keep it in your thick head boy, she is not going to end up with you. She’s got her sights set on bigger things and you don’t even know it. You are not the big thing. Not those passable looks and not that damn uniform. Not going to war, getting shot at and buying her every piece of black market jewelry you come across. Not all the times you pass it up and hold out for her. None of it will make you enough. Fool. She’ll always want more than you can ever, on your best damn day, give her.”
“Stanley,” Marsha says in an actual voice, one with weight, one that gives enough bone to his name it could stand there.
He looks at Marsha, and his face flushes red. He waves his hand at us. Marsha has a little white paw on his arm and that’s all it takes to turn him. She pulls him out of the room like he’s gone blind.
“That’s you!” I yell at his retreat. “It’s you!”
“Calm down, Georgia. It’s over. It’s over now. You go on out the back door and make sure Easy gets down the road,” Granma says to me. She gets up then and so does May.
“Why would he say that? Why would he say all that to Easy…about me? It’s him. He’s the fool!”
“Calm down,” Granma says sternly. “Go with Easy.”
I’m on it. I grab Easy’s hand.
“Fifteen minutes,” she says, then she goes after Stanley who is still in the hall with Marsha getting read the riot act from the sound of it.
“He needs to go!” I call after her and Aunt May waves like I need to shut-up and get.
But I can hardly care. I hold the door open for Easy and he puts his hat on his head and goes out first.
Once on the stoop he grabs my arm. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s an asshole,” I say. I ha
ve hot, angry tears. What he said…to Easy. About me. I’m cursing now. I’ve been working on it. It’s kind of powerful, and those words are just so right sometimes.
“Come on.” I take Easy’s hand and pull him down the porch stairs, halfway along the back of the house. I lift the cellar door.
“What are you doing?” he says. He knows what I’m doing.
“Come on,” I say again, and he follows me just like always.
I haven’t been down here in a while. Debris is in front of the door. I use my hip to push the door open and musty air and I go in and he follows.
We stand close and he pushes the door closed. It’s dark, but we’re breathing and here and real.
“He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know you.”
“He’s nuts,” Easy says. “He’s…why would he say all that?”
“He’s crazy. Wasn’t your dad crazy?”
“Yeah,” he says. “He was. But…I didn’t know about yours.”
I snort. “Truth? I didn’t either. I mean…I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“I don’t want you to go back in there until he’s gone,” he says.
“He’s going. His wife finally said something.”
“I mean it, Georgia. I don’t put up with shit like that anymore. I quit when I was young. After my old man.”
I slide my hands up his chest. He groans a little. “Georgia…you hear me right? You know with my old man. You know something.”
I shake my head. I never wanted to think about that. This day is enough. What’s been said…enough.
“You came on us. You had cake for your birthday. You saw us.”
“No,” I say. “No.”
“I don’t take it anymore Georgia. You hear me? I won’t let him hurt you.”
“He won’t.”
“He’s got that anger. I hated what he said. He knows how to do it, reach in and twist.”
“He was talking about himself. He’s a liar.”
I am holding Easy’s face. “He’s a liar,” I repeat.
“I don’t know why you would wait.”
“Shhh. I said I would.”