Chocolate-Covered Baloney

by KD McCrite

  Who in the world was Grandpa Earl Joe? I had never heard of him in my whole entire life.

  “She got her blue eyes from her own daddy,” Grandma said, right behind us. She had one hand on my shoulder and one on Myra’s. I was purely glad to feel it there, too.

  Sandra-Mimi glanced at Grandma and kinda narrowed her eyes.

  “Don’t get all uppity with me, Grace Reilly. I’m these girls’ grandma just as much as you are.”

  “You might be their grandmother, but you ain’t their grandma, not like I am.”

  Mimi uncrossed her legs and sat up like she was fixin’ to stand.

  “Hoooweee! Don’t get your drawers in a knot just because I didn’t want to hang around in this one-horse neck of the woods my entire life.”

  “I know you went off because you thought you were gonna be some kind of big star!” Grandma shot right back at her. “But I don’t remember seeing your name in lights anywhere.”

  Whoa. Ole Myra Sue wants to see her name in lights, too. Could it be she got all that dreaming of being a famous actress from this weird grandma? It’s worth thinking about, I tell you.

  Right about then I noticed the room was real quiet around us, and I peeked over my shoulder. Folks were leaving, unsmiling and perplexed, silent as egg-sucking dogs skulking out of the hen house. A glance at the hallway showed Isabel and Temple handing coats to people and telling them goodbye in hushed voices. Daddy, Ian, and Forest shook hands and murmured to people as they left. It made me think of scenes from funerals I’d seen on TV.

  Grandma and Mimi were so busy glowering at each other, they did not even notice. Just after the last guest left our house, Mama came into the room, carrying Eli.

  “What happened?” Mama asked, looking at the empty chairs, the cake and punch remains, and paper napkins scattered around. “Where’d everyone go?”

  “The guests left,” Isabel said. “We had something of an upset in here.”

  We all looked at Sandra Moore, who was happily smacking down her cake again and ignoring Grandma.

  “More cake for the rest of us!” she sang out. “And it’s been a long time since I’ve had cake this good.”

  She shoved in a bite so big, it could have squooshed right out her eyeballs and ears. Now, that was just plain tacky, and it nearly made me never want to eat cake again. She looked around, and her chewing slowed. For the first time, that woman seemed to realize she was the only one who was having herself a jolly old time. She slugged down the rest of her punch, shoved the cup at me, and said, “Fill ’er up, wouldja, Sunshine?”

  Well, I was more than glad to get away from her, so I went off to get her more to drink.

  “Seems to me folks don’t know how to have fun around here!” I heard her say. Boy, oh boy. She did not know we had been having fun just fine until she showed up.

  “Can I hold that baby?” she asked about the time I was handing her over her refill. As yet, she had not really said much to Mama or Daddy. In fact, what seemed weird to me was how she came parading into our home as if she was a regular visitor, and we should all be happy to have her there.

  Mama’s eyes got kinda big, and you could see plainer than day she did not want to hand teeny little Eli over to that loud, frowzy woman. Isabel came from across the room to the rescue, her high heels clicking like a frenzied woodpecker on the hard floor.

  “Oh goodness!” she said, curling up her nose. “That child has a dirty diaper. Let me take him, Lily, and I’ll clean him up.” She took Eli from Mama and glanced at my sister. “Come with me, Myra darling. You can hand me the moist towelettes. April dear, you can get the baby oil.”

  “Huh?” Myra said, like she didn’t know anything at all. Grandma grabbed her hand and steered her out of the room.

  “I’m coming,” I said as soon as that woman took her cup of punch from my fingers. In the background, quiet as mice, Ian, Forest, and Temple started cleaning up.

  “There’s no need for a whole delegation of y’uns to go change a diaper,” Mimi said. “You sit here, Sunshine, and talk to your mimi.” She grabbed my arm and yanked me down beside her. You might think a scrawny old woman like her would have no strength, but I reckon she lifted special weights for her fingers or something because she held on to my arm and I could not get free.

  I figured if I’d yelled, “Let go of me, you old kook!” I’d probably get in trouble, so I sat there like a statue, and the only things I moved were my eyes. I looked at my mama and my daddy. Mama hurried to the sofa and sat down on my other side. She pulled me close to her and kissed the top of my head. I liked the feeling of my mama on one side of me, but I did not like the feeling of that Mimi-person on the other side. And you know what? She still had hold of my arm.

  “Well, Sandra?” Mama said.

  “Well what, Lily?” she said, crossing her skinny ole legs again. “You don’t act very happy to see me.”

  I glanced up at Mama, who seemed to be searching real hard for the right thing to say.

  “I’m stunned,” she said. “I never expected to see you again in my life.”

  “Yeah,” I piped up, turning to the old woman. “We all thought you were dead a long time ago.”

  You know what? Mama let that comment go. But only for just a bit, then she said, “April,” like she was reprimanding me because she thought she should, but not because she really meant it.

  That old woman eyeballed Mama for a few seconds, then she looked at me.

  “Did your mama tell you that I died?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Oh? What did she tell you?”

  “She never talked about you at all.”

  It was like her face froze. She didn’t even blink.

  “Your mama never talked about me?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She twisted her mouth and squinted her eyes and wiggled her left foot like crazy. She let go of my arm, finally, and I was grateful like you couldn’t believe.

  “Well, your mimi has a lot to tell you then!” She picked up her cup and gulped it all down. “Yes, sirree,” she said when she finished, “we got lots to catch up on around here.” She grinned at all of us like catching up was going to be more fun than going to Disney World.

  “For now, though,” she said, “I’m tired. Where’s my room, Lily?”

  Mama blinked, then she and Daddy looked at each other, kinda horrified.

  “We don’t have an extra room,” Daddy said when Mama seemed unable to speak.

  “That’s right,” Mama murmured.

  Well, you could have knocked me over with a dried-up, old Q-tip because I never thought I would hear such words come from the mouth of either one of them. I guess Mama heard my eyes get big, because she turned to me.

  “Time for you to go to bed, honey. Scoot on up to your room now.”

  Now, here’s the thing: most of the time I want to hang around and listen and chime in, but in this case, I just wanted to get away from Mimi and her smell and her brown grin and that whole business. I was purely happy to trot off upstairs and hit the hay. And let me tell you, I ran out of that room before she could grab me and kiss me good night. Urp.

  Who’s Been Sleeping in My Bed? Not Me!

  It didn’t take long to shower, brush my teeth, and put on my pj’s. I fluffed my pillows, got into bed, and arranged the covers all snuggly and comfy around me, then I picked up my book. I eyeballed my door, hoping that old lady didn’t get a wild notion to come in and kiss me good night.

  It took me a good while to get involved in my story because the night’s events—everything from tricking Grandma to escaping from that Mimi-person—flickered around in my mind like an irritating moth. I was just about ready to forget about reading that night when Mama knocked on my door and called out softly, “April, honey?”

  Let me tell you something about door knocking and my mama. She always knocks and she never goes busting into your room like some mothers do, like Melissa Kay Carlyle’s mother, for instance, who just opens the
door without warning, even if you’re standing there in your underwear trying to get dressed.

  “Come in, Mama.” I hoped that old woman was not lurking around behind her.

  Mama entered with some clean, folded sheets on her arm. She looked frazzled and weary and a little pale. She was alone.

  “You okay, Mama?” I asked, sitting up straight.

  “I’m fine, honey. Listen, I want you to get up and help me change the bed linens, then I want you to go sleep in Myra Sue’s room.”

  “What?” I squawked.

  “Don’t give me a hard time now,” she said. “Come on. Get up.”

  Boy, oh boy. I crawled as slowly as possible out of my very own comfortable, warm bed in my nice, clean room.

  “You aren’t putting that woman in here, are you?” I asked.

  Mama handed me both pillows from the bed. “Change the pillow slips, honey. And yes, I am. She needs a place to sleep.”

  Well, wouldn’t you just know it. Mama was trying to do the Right Thing, just like she always did. This time, though, I wished she hadn’t decided the Right Thing was putting Mimi in my room.

  “Well, then why can’t she sleep in Myra Sue’s room?”

  Mama had taken off the blankets and the top quilt. She started removing the sheets, but paused to look at me straight.

  “Because it would take too long to get Myra’s room clean, that’s why. Besides,” she said as she went back to her work, “Myra Sue had to give up her room for a long time when Ian and Isabel stayed with us, then later when Grandma stayed here. So it’s your turn.”

  I frowned so hard that my forehead actually ached. As a rule I try not to be a selfish person, but this had nothing to do with being generous. Number one: No one in her right mind would want to sleep in Myra Sue’s rat’s nest. Number two: She slept with that dumb radio on. Number three: I did not want that Mimi-person stinking up my room or my bed.

  “Don’t give me any trouble about this, April Grace,” Mama said sternly. She was giving me the Look again.

  I knew there was absolutely no hope in arguing or even pleading my case. So I said, “Do you think you can at least have Myra clear a path between the bed and door?”

  Mama handed me one side of the sheet, and I helped her fit it on the mattress. She gave me a quick, gentle smile.

  “I think we can arrange that. In fact, you finish putting on these clean sheets, and I’ll go speak to her about it.”

  “Mama?”

  “Yes?” She was at the door, but turned to look at me.

  “Do I have to call her Mimi?”

  “Would you rather call her Grandma?”

  “No.”

  She started to go through the door.

  “Mama?”

  “What is it, April?”

  “You called her Sandra.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  We just looked at each other for a bit. I thought she was going to say something else, but then it seemed like she was lost in thought for a bit. She gave me a sad, little smile and left me to finish changing the sheets on my bed. I should’ve known better than to think ole Mimi would stay anywhere other than right here. I should’ve known Mama and Daddy would let her stay because they’ve never turned away anybody. They always say if you’re gonna be a Christian, then you need to act like Christ.

  Myra Sue wasn’t any happier than I was about sharing her room. In fact, she glowered and grumped at me like everything was all my fault. Then after a little while she quit saying anything at all. I don’t even think she said her prayers. And you know what else? She slept with her notebook all cuddled up. I guess she thought I’d snoop in it and read all her secret “homework” papers. You know what? Just between me and you, I would’ve, if I could’ve got hold of it, because I really, really wanted to know what was so interesting and all-fired important that she had to sleep with it.

  The next morning when I woke up, my throat and eyes were a little scratchy, and I figured I’d probably developed an allergy to that Mimi-person.

  I went downstairs and there she sat. She was a sight. Without that dumb purple cowboy hat, you could see, plain as day, about an inch and a half of grayish-white hair growing between her scalp and that awful red color. Also, it was stringy, like it needed a good wash. Her face still wore whatever makeup was left on there from last night, so I knew she had not washed that.

  She had her smokes and her lighter right next to her plate just like Isabel did when she was living with us. She also sat on her backside and watched Mama cook, just like Isabel used to. In fact, if you squinched up your eyes into teeny tiny slits and stared at her, you might think Mimi actually was Isabel dressed up like an old lady. Boy, oh boy, two of ’em within a half-mile of each other right here on Rough Creek Road. Not that they were completely alike or anything, but you could just look at both of them and know they could mess everything up if they took a notion to do so.

  “Well, good morning, Sunshine,” she croaked at me, then had a fit of coughing like you wouldn’t believe. When she finished, she slurped her coffee. “Lily, I sure taught you how to make a fine cup of coffee. Guess you learned a little something from me, didn’t you?”

  Mama did not answer that directly. Instead, she brought the coffeepot over to the table, filled Mimi’s cup, and said, “I’ll have your breakfast ready soon.” She glanced at me. “Good morning, April Grace.”

  “Mornin’, Mama,” I said, sitting at that table as far from Mimi as I could.

  “Not gonna say good morning to me?” Mimi asked.

  Well, I’d hardly had the opportunity, given that she’d coughed out her lungs and then started talking right afterward.

  “Good morning,” I said, as pleasantly as possible without encouraging any kind of hug or kiss. I looked around for Grandma because she always comes over every morning about that time.

  “Is Grandma here?”

  “I’m right here!” Mimi said with a laugh that sounded like she gargled with Rice Krispies.

  “I mean my real grandma.”

  Before Mimi could respond to that, Mama said, “She’s not been over yet. She probably slept late.” She did not even scold me for being snotty. In fact, she asked, “How’d you sleep, honey?”

  I sighed, then I coughed.

  “Ole Myra hogs the bed and the covers,” I said. I cut a sideways glance at Mimi but decided not to mention how I’d worried about her sleeping on my bed. I’ll tell you something. I had to hold in another shudder when I thought about it.

  Mama turned to the stove to stir the eggs, and Mimi shook out a cigarette.

  “Well, I slept like a little baby in your room, Sunshine,” she said, even though no one asked her. “You’ve got a mighty comfortable bed and a sweet little room there, all neat and pretty.”

  She picked up her lighter, and I piped up, “Speaking of little babies, you can’t smoke in our house. All that smoke is not good for Eli.”

  Mama looked over her shoulder.

  “No smoking in the house, Sandra,” she said, not even pretending to smile.

  Mimi let the flame go out of her lighter and tapped her cigarette against the table. “It’s cold outside, Lily. Are you really gonna make me go out there?” She tipped her head to one side and batted her lashes, like she thought she was a cute little girl. I wondered if that was how she got her way when she was a little kid. It seems to me Myra Sue gets her way when she does that “cute and helpless” thing. It sure is easy to see now where my sister got a lot of her worst characteristics.

  Just imagine. Fifty years from now, Myra Sue might look and act just like Mimi.

  Mama just stared at her, and Mimi finally got up, sighing like a martyr. Now, that right there was enough to tell me she was deeply related to Myra Sue.

  “Your breakfast is ready,” Mama told her.

  “I’ll just have a couple of puffs, then.” Mimi went toward the back door. “Is a couple of puffs too much for inside?”

  “Yes.” The word fell out of Mama’s mouth l
ike a rock.

  Mimi must’ve puffed quicker than you count, because it seemed she went outside and turned around and came back in about five seconds. But when she sat at the table again, I could smell the cigarette odor, so I guess there’d been enough time.

  “Is there anything else you need, Sandra?” Mama asked as she set a plate in front of her.

  Mimi looked at her bacon, scrambled eggs, and grits, reached for the saltshaker, and without looking up from her shaking, said, “I need you to sit down and have breakfast with me. It’s been a long time since we had a meal together, daughter.”

  She put down the saltshaker and looked up.

  “I need to take care of Eli,” Mama told her, and off she went, leaving me alone at the breakfast table with Mimi. I reckon she figured Mimi wasn’t any kind of threat, other than to my very own eyes when I looked at her and my nose when I smelled her and my ears when I heard her.

  That old woman shoved in a forkful of eggs, and while she chewed, she buttered her toast. I kept my eyes on my own plate. If Mama could give her the cold shoulder, so could I.

  “You don’t talk much, do you, Sunshine?” she asked.

  Boy, oh boy. If she only knew. But I just kind of shrugged and didn’t say a blessed word. If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d have left most of my food right there on my plate and trekked out of that kitchen before she could get wound up talking to me.

  “What grade you in, sugar?”

  “Sixth.”

  “You like school?”

  “It’s okay.” I did not want to get involved in telling her about the awful trials and tribulations of Cedar Ridge Junior High. I coughed.

  “You make good grades?”

  I nodded.

  “Good! You not only inherited your mimi’s looks. You inherited her smarts, too.”

  Well, I nearly gagged on my grits, which would have been a pure shame because we were eating cheese grits that morning, and they’re my favorite. Did Mimi really look like me when she was a kid? For a crazy minute, a vision of my future self floated in front of my eyes, when I’d be old and scrawny with stringy white-and-purply-red hair, nicotine-stained teeth, and short skirts showing my bony, old knees. And her smarts? How smart does a person have to be to go out in public looking like that? I prayed the fastest prayer I have ever prayed in my life, begging God not to let me be that dumb or that ugly. Which naturally led to my next thought.