“He hit me and knocked me unconscious,” my mother said, a bit timidly. “There was a big bruise on my jaw. My husband saw it, didn’t you, Craig?” My dad flinched. “I think he had something against our family because my daughter wouldn’t…” Her voice faltered.
My mother shrank into her fluffy robe, looking a bit like a lost little lamb. My father sat at the breakfast nook, dumbfounded. He’d never doubted my prudish mother’s fidelity. My younger sister tugged on his sleeve. “Daddy, who’s that woman? What’s she talking about? Why is she here?” My father gave her an aggrieved look. He shook his head in disbelief. Then, he pushed his chair away from his syrupy waffles and walked into the bedroom.
I walked over to my mother and faced her. “How could you?”
“He… he was paying me… And he raped me!”
Fay Dorland stepped between us. “You’re both lying.” She looked at my mother. “People saw you with my son at the Biltmore. Tongues wagged. Yes, money was taken from my husband’s vault, but you weren’t raped!”
“Then where did I get that horrible bruise on my jaw…? Craig… Craig! My husband saw it. He knows something happened…”
I thought of my warm, bosomy grandmother, who loved every creature that crawled the Earth. I wished she could be here. The phone conversation still reverberated in my head; grandma’s tears, the time and distance that had separated them. This never would have happened if…
“I’m ashamed of you, Mother. How could you even get near that boy after what he tried to do to me? What would you say to Grandma?”
“Grandma must never hear of this!” Mother grabbed me by my arm and started to pull it. I struggled to get free.
“What a bunch of bottom-of-the-rung Montecito people! Taking advantage of our wealth and position!” Fay thrust herself in my mother’s face as I pulled free from her grip. I was near tears. My little sister looked like she was, too, as she stood in the background near the orange and yellow chintz sofa.
A shot rang out. We exchanged horrified looks and ran to the bedroom where my father had gone.
Chapter 19
Albert was puzzling over wedding rings in the window of a Berkeley jewelry store on the day before Christmas. He’d missed Inny more than he could imagine, and he wanted to have her by his side always. He knew he was more than ten years older than she was, and that she wanted to finish her degree at Berkeley. At the same time, he wanted to show how serious he was about his marriage proposal. He hoped she wouldn’t turn it down. Her parents lived in a wealthy area and he knew he’d have to impress them doubly as he was black. Maybe they wouldn’t allow her to marry him. That’s why he bought the biggest diamond he could afford with some money he’d saved for a new car. Inny was far more important than a silly car. He fingered the box the ring was in as he walked back to his studio on Parker Avenue. He rounded the corner of the high hedges that hid the studios from public view, although people could always peek through.
He climbed the stairs to his own studio and found a present his parents had sent him, from Harlem on his doorstep, a book about slavery. He’d tried to distance himself from that hideous past, the horrid subjugation of black people to slavery, sold as chattel. Why had his parents sent him this book? To remind him of their humble beginnings or of how far they had come. After all, his father was a doctor and his mother a nurse. And here he was, the first black English professor at U. C. Berkeley.
Soon, there was a knock on his door. He recognized it as that of Maria Dolores and heaved a sigh. She could be a nuisance, but he always put up with her because that’s the way he was. Kind. He opened the door and she clapped her hands together in excitement.
“Alberto!” she said in Spanish.
“Si, señora?” He played along.
Maria Delores gave him a look of rapt admiration. “What did your family send you for Christmas, Alberto?” she sat down on his long sofa, shifting her considerable weight, and managed to show considerable cleavage of her breasts in so doing. Albert looked at her and smiled. “It’s nothing, Maria Delores. Just a book.”
She scowled, her thick black eyebrows, nearly joining them, and laughed. “A book! A book for the professor!” She found this hysterically funny and laughed a high-pitched, howling laugh.
Meanwhile, Sally, still in her pajamas and bathrobe, her hair mussed and hanging in her face, as usual, made her way up the staircase to Albert’s studio. She also sported a bruise on her jaw, which was darkening.
Jerry yelled something incoherent from his studio below. She knocked on Albert’s door, starting to sob.
“Who’s that?” said Maria Delores in her thick Spanish accent. “On Christmas Day?”
Albert gave her a wry look and got up to answer the door. He was tired of Maria Delores’ possessive attitude. She didn’t have a subtle bone in her body and he wanted to pack to go to Santa Barbara. He wanted to spend Christmas with Inny and her family, if they’d have him.
He opened the door to find a tearful Sally. “Merry Christmas!” he said and laughed. Sally kept on crying. Albert exchanged doleful looks with Maria Delores.
“What’s he done this time?” he asked.
Sally raised her tear-streaked face to his cheery one. “He tried to strangle me.”
Albert opened the door wide and she walked in. “I thought he’d given up his violent ways! Why – you’re married!”
“And now I want a divorce!” Sally turned her tearful self away from Albert, saw the sofa and sank down onto it. “I’m afraid he’ll kill me. He’s worse than ever!”
Albert took a long look at the pitiful Sally. He took her hand in his and said, “Sally, my father is a doctor. When women were mistreated, as you have been, he’d try to get them to form a group so they could talk, help each other out.” His forehead wrinkled in sympathy as he stared into her sad eyes.
“I… I need to get away from him. Where are these women?”
“That was in New York City, but they must have women who reach out and help each other here. I’ll call Adrianne to see if she knows of any such group of women. Or perhaps a doctor would.”
“What kind of a doctor?”
Albert averted his head and thought, Maybe a psychologist.
“I just want to go away.” Sally pushed her hair out of her eyes and wiped her tears on the sleeve of her bathrobe.
“You can stay with me for a few nights,” offered Maria Delores. Albert looked at her in surprise. He began to like her after all.
“Let me make some phone calls. Meanwhile, pack what you need and stay with Maria, and DON’T tell Jerry where you’ve gone.”
Sally shook her head sullenly. Then, she managed a smile. “Thanks, Albert. You’ve helped me a lot. I don’t deserve it.”
“What?”
“I always flunk out, space out, get pregnant, marry the wrong man… I’m a mess.”
Albert found himself without words for once, mostly because what she said was true. He took her hand in his and looked into her downcast eyes, partially hidden by her bangs, as usual. “Sally, you’re dead wrong. You’ve just been underestimating yourself. I think I can find help for you.”
“Can you?” Sally looked up with a ray of hope in her eyes. She almost smiled, though her mouth was still quivering from the punch in the jaw. It was red and would soon be black and blue.
“I’ll find a place where women like you can go,” Albert said. Sally looked into his eyes and he smiled a big, toothy Albert smile. Sally couldn’t help but smile back. “See? You’re going to be fine, Miss Sally, just fine!”
Sally snuffled through her smile. “I hope so. What will I tell my parents?” A fearful look crossed her face.
“The truth! You’ve got nothing to hide! They’ll want to help you. I met them. They’re good people.”
“I guess so, but my father isn’t my real father…”
“Don’t you worry about who your father is,” grinned Albert. “I’m going to get you together with some women who’ll really help you… Who
’ll understand what you’ve been through.”
A look of surprise crossed Sally’s distraught, bang-in-eyes face. “How could they?”
“Because they’ve been through the same thing, Sally. You’re not alone.”
Sally heaved a sigh and lay back on Albert’s comfy sofa. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. You and Inny have helped me so much… I don’t know what to say.”
“Just relax while I make a cup of coffee and a few phone calls. Just leave this to me, you’ll see.” Albert grinned at her. She looked into his deep brown eyes and saw why Inny loved him so much. He was nice, really nice. He even cared about her. She wasn’t used to this kind consideration of her feelings, this respect for her person. After all, she was nobody, or so she thought. Sally almost began to cry again, swallowed hard, and smiled instead. “I’m going to get a job, Albert.”
“Good for you!” he said.
Albert stood up and went over to his kitchenette to make some coffee, thinking hard of a place for her to go to. He knew someone at the Bosun’s Locker, a local bar, who might be able to help. He remembered hearing about how they helped beleaguered women from time to time. He stopped at the phone, picked it up, and dialed a number.
Maria Dolores stood up from where she’d been listening and went over to sit next to Sally on the sofa. “You Americanas have to learn to make a man respect you.” She took Sally’s hand in her older, calloused one. “My husband didn’t respect like a proper husband in Spain, which is why I came to America.”
Albert furrowed his brow as he spoke rapidly into the phone receiver. “Thanks, Eddie! I’ll bring her over tomorrow.” He turned and grinned at them. “It’s all arranged. Sally has a place to stay.”
“Not until I talk some sense into this crazy little Americana’s head,” said Maria Dolores, straightening her spine and holding her head high. “I know a thing or two about bad men.”
Albert and Sally exchanged startled looks. Albert’s face warmed like a summer’s day. He started to laugh. “You never cease to amaze me, Maria!”
She stood up and hugged him, snuggling against his broad chest, which is what she’d wanted to do all along. She was in love with Albert. He gazed into her deep brown eyes and grinned at her.
“Can I trust you to take good care of Sally tonight?”
Maria slapped him on the shoulder. “Alberto, I’m going to teach this little Americana a thing or two.”
She winked at Sally, who looked up from under her bangs with gratitude, mixed with apprehension. Spending the night with Maria Delores frightened her a bit. Everything seemed more sinister than it had before Jerry socked her in the jaw. She thought he’d be like her stepfather, a gentleman, respectful and kind. Of course, she’d been only four-years-old when her mother divorced her father. She had no idea what had gone on between them. That part of her life remained a blank page.
Maria walked over to where she sat on the sofa and sat next to her. “You’ll be just fine. Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” She let out a loud cackling laugh, and Sally looked at her as if she had just laid an egg. She’d always found Maria Dolores’ behavior bordering on the obnoxious, but she couldn’t go back to Jerry. She stood up, smoothing her pleated, plaid woolen skirt and shaking her head so that her bangs didn’t fall in her face. “You need a new haircut. I can give you one. We’re going to make a new Sally out of you!” Her merry smile didn’t reassure Sally.
“Don’t cut my bangs!” Sally said.
“They’re always in your face! Let them grow out! I’ll fix your hair and you’ll look beautiful, you’ll see.”
“But I have a beaked nose! I want to cover my nose!” Albert laughed. “My nose is beaked and I’m proud of it, Sally!”
“But you’re… you’re a man. It looks good on you.” Sally wiped her eye and pushed her bangs out of her face, but they fell right back over it. “I’ll never look beautiful!” She jerked her head around so that no one could see her profile.
“Stop that silly nonsense,” Albert replied in his stern, mature voice. “All women are beautiful. You just need to see your own beauty.”
“I’m not going to spend the night with Maria Dolores if she’s going to cut my bangs!” Sally looked defiant for the first time in her life. Her bangs were sacred.
“No, I won’t touch them! You’ll see!” said Maria Dolores.
Albert went to the refrigerator and took out his customary bottle of champagne. “I suggest we make a toast to Sally’s new haircut!”
Sally stood up angrily. “No! I’ve had enough! Quit making fun of me!”
Albert closed the refrigerator door. “Nobody’s making fun of you.”
“Then leave my hair alone!” Sally stood firmly on her own two feet. Albert and Maria Dolores looked at her in surprise. She’d never asserted herself before.
“No haircut! I hear you!” said Maria Dolores. “Let’s just have a nice little dinner and we can talk.”
Sally looked around, hoping to find a way to escape Maria Dolores’ unexpected and sudden generosity. Maria was grinding on her already battered nerves. She saw Albert smile tentatively at her. She knew there was no way out except to go to Maria Dolores’ room. After all, she’d come here for help, and other than calling her parents, she had no place to go except back to Jerry, which she’d finally decided was a terrible idea.
Another knock at the door. There was Kathy, hoping for some champagne and sympathy. The deep vertical furrow in her brow deepened, a sort of accusation. “Oh,” she said when she saw the other women. She managed a smile. “How are you, Sally and Maria Dolores?”
“Sally’s going to spend the night at my house. Then, we’ll find a place for her. Can’t you see her chin?” Maria said.
Sally lowered her head to try to hide her bruised chin. “Get rid of that man!” Kathy said. Her face lit up in vivid anger, her furrow deepening to almost a cleft. She turned her head and began to cry. “I can’t stand him.”
Sally took a deep breath and said, “He has his good points. Besides, he hasn’t hurt you!” She turned and faced Kathy.
“It’s just that… Oh, never mind!”
“Okay, let’s go.” Sally lowered her head into its usual hangdog position. Maria Dolores walked up to her and put her arm around her to console her. Sally wrenched free. She didn’t want to be touched. Maria Dolores understood. Albert went to the door and opened it for them. They filed out in silence. Albert had felt emotions surge in his chest during their little scene, and he knew what he had to do. He ran to a drawer and fumbled through old clipping, family photos, odd pieces of jewelry, and tie clips. Then he found it. His grandmother’s engagement ring. Searching for a box, he all but emptied the drawer. Finally, he found a facsimile of a ring box and put it in. Then, he started packing an overnight bag.
Kathy had lingered behind. She watched him like a hawk, frowning. Her normally smooth brow formed an uncustomary furrow. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, Miss Kathy,” laughed Albert, suddenly aware that she was still in his studio. “I’ve got to go to Santa Barbara to see Inny.”
“Inny, Inny, Inny,” laughed Kathy. “She gets all the attention, doesn’t she?”
“I’m sorry, Kathy, but we are engaged, or about to be engaged…” Albert smiled a broad smile, which radiated his happiness at the thought of becoming engaged to Inny.
“What?”
Albert turned his back on Kathy to pack an Armani suit in his suitcase. “That’s why I should spend Christmas with her and her family.”
Kathy started to laugh. “Wait till Joe hears…” Her face turned a purplish hue as she howled with laughter, no longer a voluptuous blonde; she’d turned into a howling hyena.
Albert folded the trousers to his suit and put them neatly in his suitcase. “You can tell him whatever you like. Now I must be going. Please, forgive me for being so rude, but I’m afraid Inny might be, in trouble. Could you take Sally to the Bosun’s Locker tomorrow?”
“I th
ought…”
“That I was gay?” Albert turned to look at Kathy’s voluptuous blonde self. “I didn’t know what love was until I met Inny.” He looked deep into her widening eyes. “Who could resist women like you?”
“Um, yeah. I guess you’re right,” she laughed. “Love knows no boundaries.” Kathy flicked her long hair over her shoulder with a jerk of her head. She regained her composure, smiling at her faux pas. “Let me know if I can help, Albert. I’m sorry I made that remark.”
“It happens all the time.” Albert grinned at her in appreciation and relief, packing as fast as his nimble fingers allowed him to. He sensed that Inny was in trouble, remembering the small but significant scratch her mother had dug into his flesh. He wondered how he could convince them that a black man would make a good husband for their daughter. He wondered if they’d chase him out of the house again, but he was determined to be there for Inny. She was having a hard time. He could feel it in his bones, which were as white as theirs.
Chapter 20
The next morning, Maria Dolores and Sally dressed, Maria in her usual, plain housecleaning dress, Sally in a wrinkled blouse and pleated skirt. They left for the Bosun’s Locker, a bar Sally had never been to. It was on Shattuck Avenue, near the Berkeley campus. They took the bus, because Maria didn’t have a car.
Sally watched students come and go with a dull look in her eyes. She felt that her life had ended, but she knew she had to go on. Maria Dolores watched her, remembering a time when she had felt forlorn and friendless, in Spain. Her mother had died in childbirth, so her grandmother took over, but she was aged and tired from raising five children. Maria never felt like she had a real family. After a disastrous flirtation with one of the local boys, which left her pregnant and shunned by almost all, she knew she had to leave her small town and change her life after giving the baby up for adoption. That’s how she ended up in America, working as a cleaning woman. She felt better but still downtrodden. Now, she would help a downtrodden American. Not poor, as she had been, but downtrodden by her lack of will.
Rich White Americans Page 23