by Randi Pink
She joined her own three soul mates in bed and swore they wouldn’t lose touch like her mother had with hers.
* * *
Best friend Sippi’s papa was coming. He had some kind of drop-off in Indianapolis, and he was going to swing by and pick up his little girl. Sue had to work hard not to hate him just as much as she hated her own father. She hadn’t ever met him. She had no right, and she knew that. But he’d allowed his only daughter to be used like a plaything, and Sue couldn’t reconcile that. If he was such a good papa, he would’ve noticed something like that.
Sippi was bouncing off the walls, grinning and spinning with joy, but slower than usual. Sue couldn’t burst her bubble with negativity, so she pretended to be excited, too.
Another thing was worrying her. That morning, Sue had noticed Ms. Pearline’s concern about high blood pressure. She’d set the timer to ring every sixty minutes to check Sippi’s pressure. It was steadily rising, and Sue wondered if she needed to leave the apartment at all. Even walking to and from the bathroom spiked her pressure. Ms. Pearline didn’t like it, that much was obvious, and neither did Sue.
“Oh, best friend Sue!” Sippi attempted to spring forward, throwing an awkward belly hug onto Sue. “I can’t wait for you to meet Papa. He’s such a good papa!”
“Oh, I know. Me too. How are you feeling?”
“Why does everybody keep asking me that? I’m doing just fine. Right as rain.”
The timer went off again, and Sue watched as Sippi moped over to the blood pressure cuff.
“Getting dreary out,” Mary drawled. “Storm’s coming.”
“I feel it in my bones,” added Lillian.
The apartment was so high in the clouds that it felt like they were a part of the approaching storm. Sue had a horrible feeling. A dread came over her, and it wouldn’t let her go. She pulled Mary and Lillian into a close circle as Ms. Pearline took Sippi’s pressure.
“Is this really a good idea?” Sue asked them. “Letting her go off in a storm. She’s obviously not well.”
“What can we do, Sue?” Lillian snapped with an eye roll. “Her papa’s coming. We have no say in the matter.”
Sue looked to Mary for support. “I agree with you, Sue! Don’t scowl at me. But Lillian’s right. What can we do? He’s blood.”
Lillian grabbed hold of Sue’s chin and turned it toward Sippi. “Look at that girl. Have you seen her happier than that?”
Sue really looked at her. Lillian was right. She could hardly contain her excitement to see her father.
“We can’t take that from her,” said Lillian. “I say we support her in it. Love on her and be happy that she has something to smile for.”
“And pray about the rest,” added Mary.
“Amen.”
* * *
Sue zipped herself up and put on phony excitement for Sippi’s sake. Still, she noticed Sippi’s blood pressure creeping up. Last time she’d taken it, Ms. Pearline told Sippi if it rose, even one more digit, she couldn’t go. They all held their breath, crossed their fingers, and pretended to wish it didn’t go up any farther. Sue wished it would, but it didn’t. Then they cheered when Ms. Pearline gave the all clear.
There was a knock on the door. Sippi went to open it, but Tim Reese’s voice was on the other side, not her father’s. Sue grabbed the neck of her guitar and ran into Ms. Pearline’s bedroom to hide along with the rest of them. When she got there, Sue made sure she secured the hundred-dollar bill in her sweaty palm.
He sounded even more demanding and drunk than the last time he’d visited the apartment. Charm and flattery weren’t working on him now. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he came for, Sue thought. Whatever that was.
“How many girls you got back there?” he said, so sloppy that it was hard to make out. “Let me see them.”
Ms. Pearline softened her tone the way she always had with Tim Reese, but he wasn’t having any of it. Sue half expected him to push past Ms. Pearline and burst through the bedroom door. Then another male voice interrupted their dispute.
“Papa,” Missippi whispered to Sue. “He’s saving us.”
Sue held a cautious finger to her mouth and shook her head, but Missippi was too excited to care. Sue wondered why Sippi didn’t bound through the door to see her father like she’d expected. Instead, she hung back, grinning with her ear pressed to the door like she was waiting for something to happen.
“Who was that man?” Sue heard him ask Ms. Pearline about Tim Reese. “Didn’t give off nothing nice.”
Good eye, Sue thought. At least he could spot an asshole for once in his life. Because he surely missed the one in his own family. Then Sippi’s father offered to give Tim Reese what he called a firm talking-to, and Sue found herself fond of him all of a sudden. She liked his thick drawl and how observant he was. Maybe it’s harder to see the evils within one’s family, Sue thought, trying very hard to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“That means a lot, really,” Ms. Pearline told him. “but he’ll just come back as soon as you head out. I’m taking care of him.”
“My only child is here with you, Ms. Pearline,” he said firmly. “And my grandbaby, too. I wouldn’t be doing it for you.”
Sue felt her lips part. Sippi hadn’t told him she was having twins. That was a huge detail to leave out, especially being this close to full term. He would likely be the one to care for them financially. Sue reached for her guitar, just in case he made a scene or got angry that she hadn’t told him. She’d bash her favorite instrument over his head if he dared mess with best friend Sippi. Father or fucking not.
“Missippi is perfectly safe here, sir. I assure you.” Sue was proud of Ms. Pearline’s confident tone. “I take the life and health of these young ladies seriously. I would gladly lay down my own for them without as much as a blink. Also, sir…” Then she softened. “I thought Missippi would have told you. You have more than one grandchild coming. She’s having twins.”
He fell silent. Sue shook Sippi’s shoulder to steel her for his wrath. Lillian pressed her ear closer to the door to listen.
“Two babies?”
“Two babies.” Ms. Pearline repeated his words. “That’s right. She’s high risk, so I’ve been paying close attention to her breathing and movement. While I’m thinking of it, I have an important question to ask you. Does Missippi ever embellish the truth about her own health? For instance, ever say she’s fine when she’s obviously not.”
Sue would’ve thought it a strange question to ask, but lately, she’d wondered the same thing. Every now and then, she’d catch best friend Sippi in a wince and ask if she was okay. She always said she was. According to Sippi, she was having the easiest, least complicated, most painless pregnancy. But Sue hurt all over her body. Even her hair hurt. Deep down, she couldn’t wrap her mind around two babies being easier than one baby.
“Missippi has never told me a story,” he said, with such surety. “If she don’t want me to know, she won’t tell it, but she won’t tell a bold-faced lie.”
“Not even a little white one to protect you?”
“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know. What is this you gave me here? I think your tea has gone bad.”
Sue smiled, realizing that best friend Sippi had been waiting for her father to drink the tea. Sue watched her leap toward him.
“My God.” He looked at her like a league of ghosts had entered the room, and then he started crying.
Sue realized she’d pegged him all wrong. He was a sensitive man paddling in a river of tears. He loved his little girl and however many babies grew in her body. She wanted very much to play him a song, but she didn’t know if that might come off as melodramatic. So she stood there beside Lillian and Mary and watched the large father break into tiny bits.
“Who did this to you, baby?”
“Come on, girls,” Sue said. She didn’t feel they should be privy to such raw family emotion, especially from a father. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
Then Missippi began to cry. “Wait. Papa, this is best friend Sue. And other best friends, Mary and Lillian. And you know Ms. Pearline already. They been God’s gifts to my life. Oh! And the Midnight Boys coming along before too long!” She ran over to the window. “They must be sleep now, though.”
“Who did this to you?”
Sue wanted to tell him that it was Sippi’s uncle. Her disgusting, sorry-excuse-for-a-human-being of an uncle. She knew it wasn’t her place. Missippi would never speak to her again if she did it. Still, Sue weighed it in her mind. Should she tell him and protect Sippi? Or should she protect the friendship? She was caught between two large, immovable rocks, and she had no idea which to choose.
“Papa, you a broken record now!” Missippi said to him. “Here! Listen to best friend Sue play this Johnny Cash–man song. You know him, Papa?”
“I know him. He’s playing in my rig right now.”
“How did you not tell me about Johnny Cash?” Missippi folded her arms. She looked so very young when she did that. Like a ten-year-old throwing a tantrum. “His songs are stories. Fun ones! That man’s been everywhere! Just like you, Papa.”
“Sorry, ladies,” he said, smiling. “I just ain’t expect…”
“She’s carrying twins.” Ms. Pearline spoke softly. “And she’s carrying them right out front. Soon as she has them, her little body will go right back to where it was before. Of this I have no doubt.”
“See, Papa? Ms. Pearline is smart as a whip, and if she says I’ll go right back to where I was before, it’s right.”
“Well, then, Ms. Pearline,” he said before wiping his face with his sleeve. “Is it safe to take my girl out to get some ice cream?”
“Oh, please, please, please,” Missippi said. “I only been out a few times and never past the playground. Can I?”
Ms. Pearline nodded and told her father, “If you notice any shortness of breath or swelling in the ankles, bring her right back here. Also…” Ms. Pearline grabbed his fingers and placed them above Missippi’s collarbone, instructing him to manually count her pulse.
“Okay,” she said. “See how slowly you’re counting? If you feel yourself counting faster than that, bring her right back. I want you to do that at least every thirty minutes. Got it?”
Missippi’s papa nodded.
* * *
They’d been gone for a little over an hour.
“Are we sure it was a good idea to let them go?” Sue paced loops around the bed. “They’ve been gone a really long time.”
“I was just wondering the same, Sue.” Ms. Pearline stood vigil by the window, watching intently for them to turn the corner by the playground. She bit a rip of skin from her finger and said, “I think I made a mistake.”
“Ladies!” said Lillian with a huff. “Calm down—my God! You two could worry the warts off a worrywart.”
“Besides,” Mary added. “That’s her daddy. He’s got the final say in what happens to his girl.”
“I have a bad feeling about this whole thing.” Sue plopped down on the made bed, began nervously strumming at her guitar, and then realized she had one more letter to read.
Dear Susan,
I spoke with your horrible boyfriend again today. He came by without his parents this time, but dear Lord, he had his grandmother in tow.
Have you met her, darling? If not, she is a wonder. Smaller than a prepubescent teenage girl, but as fiery as a spinning devil. Her words carry venom inside them, and her jewels nearly blinded me when I opened the door to her. The woman didn’t request admission. She marched in and sat on your father’s chair. I daresay, I would admire her boldness if it weren’t on such display in my own home.
She, too, as you may have guessed, came with a set of demands. She forbids adoption of her bloodline. Do prepare yourself for these:
First, she wishes you to marry Michael.
Second, she wishes you shut your mouth, much like your mother. (HER WORDS!)
Third, she would like to adjust your hair and wardrobe.
Lastly, she would like to grant you a large home in Kenilworth, fully equipped with a maid and nurse for the baby.
She then turned to her grandson and told him that he was done with his education. He would promptly join his father’s company as an apprentice. For he will, one day, take over as chairman, and you will have the “privilege” of standing by his side.
I laughed at her list, darling. She did not like that one bit.
This must be overwhelming. But I have to add more. This may be the hardest addition. Steel yourself, please.
She called your father. He knows everything, and he, from DC no less, agreed with her. He has given his blessing to this horrible family to take your hand.
I am sorry.
I love you and I am trying to find my words.
Your loving mother,
Margaret Claire Laura Hurley-Day
A pounding at the door startled the shouting voices in her head. It had to be Tim Reese. The girls scattered to the bedroom, and Ms. Pearline straightened and walked to the door. “Coming,” she said.
Ms. Pearline opened the door. “Oh my God. Here, here, lay her down here.”
It wasn’t Tim Reese. It was best friend Sippi, looking like she was about to birth two babies within minutes. Breathing and panting and throwing her head back without even realizing it.
All voices in the room became a jumble of pitches—low, high, medium vibrations. No coherent words formed sentences. In Sue’s mind, all she could see was Sippi slipping in and out of consciousness. Eyes rolling into the back of her head like broken Magic 8 Balls. She looked sickly and drawn up. Thunder crashed outside, and Sue caught sight of a few passersby running down the sidewalk.
“Chicken timer,” said Ms. Pearline. “Sue … chicken … timer.”
She stood and went to get it. It wasn’t there. She saw the sink and the dish rags and the soap and the stacks of dishes and the Pine-Sol. She saw nothing that looked remotely like a chicken timer. It couldn’t have been there. Ms. Pearline had gotten it wrong.
“Calm down, Susan,” Ms. Pearline said. “Breathe. It’s directly in front of you. Next to the pepper grinder. Grab it, and come to Missippi’s side.”
How could it have been right there the whole time? She swore she looked a few seconds ago and hadn’t seen it. She picked it up and went to them. She slowly made her way through Ms. Pearline’s instructions and did as she was told, trying not to focus on everything that could go wrong with her precious best friend. Twins were dangerous. Why couldn’t Sue have had the twins instead of Sippi? Sue’s body was more developed. Thicker and more substantial. She could handle twins. Those two babies could break poor tiny Sippi in half.
“What should I do, ma’am?” asked Sippi’s father.
Best friend Sippi’s father’s voice broke Sue’s trance. He was so scared and shaken that Sue wanted to hug him.
“That’s for you and your daughter to decide. You can wait back in my bedroom or you can hold her hand while she brings these babies into the world.”
Sue watched him look into his little girl’s eyes. For the first time, she realized Sippi was lucky to have a father like that. A treasure of a father. A sweet, though maybe naive, father who didn’t always know what to do or how to do it. But a father who tried. Sue realized that she herself wished she had a father like him.
“Sippi,” he said. “My sweet baby girl.”
“Papa.” Sippi could barely get his name out through the thick pain.
“I’d like to stay here with you.”
“You’re such a good papa.”
Sue, and everyone else except Ms. Pearline, cried. They all wanted fathers like that.
OLA
She just knew what she wanted—a husband and a few babies, clean bobby socks, and a white picket fence. That’s it. She got through school and church and Bible study by the skin of her teeth, so she could grow up and get married.
What about that made her stupid? Nothing
, that’s what.
She didn’t worry about much of that anymore, though. It didn’t hurt her feelings. All of that stupid talk. Nothing hurt after she took Mrs. Mac’s elixir. She’d floated up and up to places that felt nice. Slipping away quick and painless.
Mrs. Mac had told her to take a little every day, not the whole bottle. Soon as she drank it, she knew it was the Three Sixes that did her in. One teaspoon of that stuff could break up all the phlegm in the back of the throat after a bad cold. A whole bottle could kill.
Ola didn’t know if she wanted to be dead when she drank it all. She just knew she didn’t want to be a burden to Walter, and Evangelist, and most of all, to Izella.
IZELLA
Ola and her baby boy died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital while Izella scrubbed the burnt-up jowl bacon from the bottom of Mr. Melvin’s stove.
MISSIPPI
Papa stayed up by Missippi’s head at first. Even through the pain, she worried over him. He looked like he was about to explode right there in Ms. Pearline’s apartment. Ms. Pearline said to breathe in, and he did. Ms. Pearline said to breathe out, and he did. Missippi wanted so badly to laugh at him, huffing and carrying on, but it hurt too much to laugh. Best friend Sue held the chicken timer like Missippi had during Ruby’s birthing. Lillian and Mary squeezed tight on the stick between her teeth.
“I need you to control your breathing, Mississippi.” Ms. Pearline was still angry. Not nervous or jittery or smiley. She was following the motions of bringing babies into the world. “Mississippi, listen to me. Breathe when I tell you to breathe. Control it!”
“I’m … so.… sorry.” Missippi hated when anyone she loved was angry at her. If she hadn’t been lying there on that bed about to have babies, she would’ve jumped up and cooked something to show how sorry she truly was.