The Truth About Grace

by Cassie Dandridge Selleck

  “Don’t be talkin’ ’bout what I don’t get, Sister. You ain’t got any idea. How ’bout askin’ yourself if you want to change places with me. ’Cause I’d trade with you today and I wouldn’t be complainin’.”

  I heard her say something muffled, like she had her hand over the phone, then her voice got clear again.

  “I’m going to hang up now, before I get mad. Before I say things that make you forget how much I love you. Because I do. I love you, Grace, and I love your kids. But they are your kids, not mine. They need their mama.”

  “I’m right here. I’ll take ’em anytime.”

  “They need their mama whole and sober and ready to raise them. And let me just say this, Gracie. If I could trade with you, I would. I hate what happened to you, but I would take it on in a heartbeat if I could make this family okay again. But what I won’t do…and I want you to listen to me, because I mean this…what I won’t do is be your punching bag.”

  I had to think about that a second, and by the time I opened my mouth to speak, I heard my sister say, “Goodnight, Grace. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  31 – Patrice

  I have to admit I was a little surprised I didn’t hear from Miss Ora or Grace for the next few days. I wouldn’t have put it past either of them to call me and act like nothing even happened, but my phone was silent.

  So, instead of appreciating this time to myself, I found myself feeling envious of Cheryl Kincaid. She’s divorced, for crying out loud – a single parent, but all I could think was, well at least she’s had a life. All I’ve ever done is go to school and take care of someone else’s kids. First my siblings and now my niece and nephew. I’m forty-one years old and I’ve never even had a real boyfriend, much less my own child.

  I made an appointment with Kamilah and went to her office. I wanted to work through two things with her: first the noise in my head that counteracted the peace of their silence, and second, the seemingly impossible edict of suspending my anger. I’m still mad. Even though I’ve added a layer of personal responsibility for Grace being raped, I still find her absolutely infuriating. Impossible. Unreasonable. I’ve spent years, literally years, cleaning up the messes she makes. It’s exhausting.

  So why was it so hard to just step back and breathe? Kamilah was brutally honest with her response.

  “Look, Patrice, either you do or you don’t. Either you will or you won’t. You set reasonable boundaries for yourself. You were clear enough about them. They obviously got the message. Either you are going to enjoy the respite, or you are going to obsess about details over which you have no control. And there’s the rub, isn’t it?”

  I all but glared at her. “That doesn’t feel fair to me. It sounds like you’re saying I have control issues.”

  Kamilah shook her head and shot me a wry smile. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m asking, though I could have phrased it better.”

  “Then I don’t understand what you’re asking.” I found myself feeling like a petulant child, which does not feel good. Not good at all.

  “Sure you do. Are you going to use this opportunity to regroup, recuperate, relax a bit? Or are you going to spend your time analyzing their response to the absolutely reasonable frustration you expressed? You asked them to back off and give you space. They did. So talk it out a second. I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”

  I felt a bit of explosion hovering just north of my lungs, and I breathed it back down. “I guess it’s just that it’s so out of character for them. Normally, they both try to placate me. Either that or they pretend nothing happened and we go on like before.”

  “Do you want to go on like before?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Change is hard. You said what you said, and they got the message. That’s a step forward, regardless of how it feels.”

  “So I shouldn’t feel like their silence is punitive?”

  “You could do that. And it could well be. Then again, you could just make a generous assumption and decide that they are honoring your need for space and rest and trying not to overwhelm you further. Is that possible?”

  “That they are trying not to overwhelm me?”

  “Yes. Also that you can make that generous assumption. Are those things possible?”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Yes. Both things are possible.”

  “So what will you do now?” Kamilah asked.

  “I will enjoy the peace while I have it, and I will stop trying to control how they react.”

  Kamilah smiled broadly. “Beautiful. Now, do me a favor and take a deep breath and slowly let it out.”

  We did this together several times.

  “How does that feel?” she asked.

  I paused for a moment and focused on how I felt, not just emotionally, but physically. I twisted my head side to side, paying attention to how my skull rested on my spine, and the fluidity of the movement. I felt a sensation of lifting, of releasing a physical burden from my body, and then a gentle relaxation. I had the fleeting thought that I couldn’t remember the last time I had done anything so intentional, but then I just sat with the ease that had settled over me and enjoyed it.

  32 – Grace

  Things were tense the next couple days. Patrice never called over the weekend, and Miss Ora kinda kept to herself. I dug through all my stuff and found a little something to ease my nerves. I’m doin’ my best to stay offa the hard stuff, but I keep a reserve just in case. I don’t wanna be back on the street, I know that much. I just don’t think anybody really understands how hard it is sometimes. You can say all day long, I’m done. I’m done. But you’re not done with the dope ‘til the dope’s done with you.

  On Monday, the kids didn’t show up after school. I thought about callin’ Sister then, but I knew she was tryin’ to make a point and would be waitin’ for me to call. I didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.

  Miss Ora was worried though. I was out in the garage readin’ a book and she came to find me about four o’clock.

  “Have you heard from Patrice yet?”

  I looked up when I heard her voice. She was still in a housedress, which wasn’t really like her. She’ll come down for breakfast in them sometimes, and she’ll stay in one all day if she ain’t feelin’ well, but usually, she up and dressed for real pretty early.

  “She ain’t said boo to me, Miss Ora. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.”

  “Shawn and Rochelle should be here by now.”

  “I don’t think they’re comin’. Patrice wants to make sure we know she mean business.”

  She nodded and looked around the garage.

  “I haven’t been out here in ages. You have it looking like Eddie always did.”

  “This ’bout the only place I can get a good picture of him. I close my eyes and see him bent over this old chair, polishin’ this, cleanin’ that. He loved this old thing. Did you know he had a stash out here?”

  “A stash of what?” Miss Ora looked horrified, which made me laugh. I couldn’t help it. Her face – good Lord, her face.

  “Don’t worry, it was jus’ Old Crow.” She winced, which made me laugh harder. Maybe she’da been less offended if it’d been Crown Royal, I don’t know. I slid out of the chair and bent down behind it. “He tacked a little sleeve under here. There was a pint bottle slid into it. Unopened.”

  She just gave a little shake of her head and said, “Oh, Eddie.” Then her eyes narrowed, and she dropped her chin down and looked at me over the top of her glasses. “What did you do with the bottle?”

  “Oh, I kept the bottle.” I could hardly keep a straight face, and the look I gave her was half-daring her to ask about the contents, but she didn’t. She just covered her face with both hands and rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses.

  Finally, she just looked at me and said, “Well, it’s a fine old chair, isn’t it? I think we should see if we can find a spot for it inside the house, don’t you? Shame to see it wasting away out
here.”

  You can’t get too far ahead of Miss Ora. She may be old, but she ain’t stupid.

  “I ‘member when Mr. Pecan brought this old chair home. I spent hours helpin’ him polish the scrollwork on the base. Makes me kinda feel like he’s still here, sittin’ up in this thing.”

  “It’s a bit of a throne, isn’t it?”

  I patted the arm of the chair. “I need to get me a tiara, don’t I? I can be the next Princess Grace.”

  I don’t know why that struck us both so funny, but we laughed and laughed. When Miss Ora caught her breath, she said, “Oooo, I needed that laugh, Gracie, but now I need the ladies’ room. You coming in?”

  “In a minute,” I picked up my book from the seat of the chair. “I wanna finish this one chapter.”

  Miss Ora started to walk away, then turned back toward me.

  “Kamilah usually comes around four-thirty. You reckon Patrice has cancelled that, too?”

  “Nah,” I said. “She’ll come around. She always do.”

  “What do you think of her? Kamilah, I mean.”

  I straddled the footrest and pulled myself back up into the chair. I laid the book back in my lap.

  “Well…” I said, taking a deep breath through my nose as a way of stalling. I didn’t really know if I wanted to answer that question, but then I remembered what I just thought about her. She probably already knows the answer, so I might just as well say what I think.

  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want,” she said.

  See what I mean?

  “I was just thinkin’ it over is all,” I said. “Kamilah’s good. She knows how to make you come at things like it was your idea. They do that a lot in rehab. I been in ’em enough to figure that out. They know you done had ten people tellin’ you what you oughta do. Get a job, go to school, stop hangin’ out with this guy or that guy. Fix yourself up, stop stayin’ out all night, get up and get dressed. Why don’t you take care of yourself? Why don’t you take care of your kids? Everybody has an answer for your problems, ’cept they the ones denyin’ what your problem really is. My problem ain’t never been that I don’t have a job. It’s that they don’t make enough drugs to kill the pain I’m in.”

  Miss Ora lip started to tremble a little. That’s how I knew I said too much. I don’t like when people get upset.

  “How can we help you heal, Gracie?”

  “Now, Miss Ora, you know what Mama used to say – you can’t ask a fat man how to lose weight. If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be sick, now would I?” I jumped back up from the chair and gave her a little hug. “Come on, let’s go in and see what we got to cook tonight.”

  ✽✽✽

  Kamilah showed up just as me and Miss Ora was about to start supper. Patrice pulled in right behind her, like she’d been following her all along. The kids were not with her, which actually kinda scared me. What if something had happened to them getting off the bus and we didn’t call to check? But she read my mind, I guess.

  “The kids are at my house,” she said. “I picked them up from school today. Kamilah thought it would be better to leave them out of this one.”

  “Scared me for a minute.” I pulled at my collar to fan myself as I felt the heat rising to my face. I started to get mad, but then…I don’t know…I was just so happy to see Sister, I hugged her and told her I loved her. She hugged me back, but I didn’t exactly feel the love.

  The four of us sat in the living room this time, instead of each of us talking to Kamilah alone. She was the one who suggested it. I gotta admit, I thought it was a bad idea.

  Kamilah began with, “Patrice and I met earlier today, so I know that you hit a little rough patch last Friday. I feel like this is the perfect setting to discuss that and see if we can all get on the same page here. Does anyone have anything to say before I start?”

  Patrice and I looked at each other, and I swear she had to be thinking the same thing I was: I ain’t touching this with a ten-foot pole.

  Miss Ora jumped in right away though. “I just think I owe Patrice an apology is all. I don’t mean to be a burden, but I can see that I am.” She said all this to Kamilah, then turned to Patrice. “I am so sorry, Patrice. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you’re overwhelmed. And I’m being completely thoughtless and expecting way too much from you. I just…when I found Grace’s clothes, I was so excited, I didn’t even stop to think what your schedule would be like. I just knew you’d be as excited as I am and that’s not a fair assumption at all. Please forgive me. You’ve been so good to us and taken on far more than anyone should have to do. I don’t know what we would do without you…” She got choked up then and stopped talking.

  I could see Patrice felt bad then. She sort of fidgeted in her seat and her head dropped a little. “It’s okay, Miss Ora. I know you don’t mean any—”

  “Hold on, Patrice.” Kamilah held up one hand toward my sister.

  “I’m sorry,” Patrice said.

  “Nope,” Kamilah shook her head. “No need to be sorry. This is actually perfect. I want to ask you something. You just said, ‘It’s okay, Miss Ora.’ But is it really okay with you what she did? And is it okay what she just said about what she did?”

  “I don’t understand,” Patrice had a kind of deer-in-the-headlights look. “Am I okay that she just apologized? Is that what you’re asking?”

  “Did she just apologize?” Kamilah asked. “Because I think if you play that back, you might notice that she did more explaining than apologizing.”

  I didn’t know where she was going with all that, but I started feelin’ a little protective of Miss Ora. Patrice frowned and shoved her bottom lip out like she was thinkin’ about what Kamilah asked.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Patrice said.

  “Look…this is going to be hard for all of you to hear, but I wanted you to hear it together so you’ll understand what part you play in the dynamic between you all. So, Patrice, stop a minute and think what you were feeling as she was speaking. When you said, ‘It’s okay, Miss Ora,’ what were you feeling?”

  Patrice sort of slumped back in her chair and threw one arm across her eyes.

  Kamilah leaned forward and put one hand on her other arm. “It’s okay, Patrice. There’s no right or wrong answer. Let me ask you this…when she said she was so excited about finding Grace’s clothes and she thought you would be, too, what did you feel? Just give it one word.”

  “I felt bad,” Patrice said from behind her arm.

  I kept looking back and forth between Miss Ora and Patrice. I ain’t even sure who I felt worse for. Miss Ora look like she jus’ lost her best friend. Kamilah didn’t even look at Miss Ora though. She was focused right on Patrice.

  “When she said she didn’t know what they’d do without you, what did you feel? One word.”

  Patrice sighed. “Obligated.”

  “And when she started crying?”

  Patrice dropped her arm and sat up. She turned her head slowly toward Kamilah, like a light was dawnin’ in her eyes. “Guilty. I felt guilty.”

  “And is that what an apology is supposed to make you feel?” Kamilah pressed.

  “No,” Patrice sounded plain indignant then. “No, it is not supposed to make me feel bad.”

  “Exactly,” Kamilah said to Patrice, then turned to look around the room at each of us. “Today we are going to talk about co-dependency and enabling, and all the forms they take and behavior they inspire: manipulation, denial, guilt, caretaking, just to name a few.”

  I thought I was gonna have to get Miss Ora a bag to breathe in. “But, I didn’t…I wasn’t…”

  “Of course you meant no harm, Mrs. Beckworth. Listen to me a minute. I’m not calling you a bad person, and neither is Patrice. No one sets out to be co-dependent, any more than they set out to be addicted. And co-dependency doesn’t need the element of addiction to thrive in a relationship. What we are trying to accomplish here is a strong family relationship, right? Isn’
t what we all want for each other a healthy, happy, productive life?”

  We all nodded, but nobody said a word.

  “So let’s look at where this family is co-dependent. Let’s address the behaviors and see if we can get them straightened out. Before we even talk about substance abuse. Because that’s just a symptom of the real problem, which I believe is an incredibly unhealthy co-dependency. But you know what? That’s the easy part. If everyone knows what role they are playing, we can rewrite the script and get a better outcome.”

  We talked for two hours. I ain’t felt that tired after anything, ever, not even a binge. When Kamilah first started, I felt myself bracing for an attack. Everything in me was tensed up tight as a drum.

  But the more she talk, the more it made sense. One thing happens and then someone starts feeling sorry for the other one, and the other one feels better because somebody cares. There’s people who need and people who need to be needed, and when they get bound up together, it’s like a merry-go-round you can’t get off. Everybody goin’ round and round lookin’ for love, but all they get’s a glimpse of it goin’ by. We need to find a way off this thing or shut it down completely.

  I want to make Sister proud of me. I wanna feel like she just wants me around ’cause I make her laugh, not ’cause she scared I’ll fall off the wagon and she got to watch so it don’t happen.

  As tired as I am, I’m feeling something that seems a little bit like hope, and I ain’t felt that in a long time.

  33 – Patrice

  No wonder Kamilah was proud of me this morning. I’d accidentally done what I should have done all along. As much as I complained about Mama enabling Grace, you’d think I’d have seen I was doing the same thing with Miss Ora. She and Mama were the ones who made the decision to cover up a crime, to lie to Gracie, to not report her rape. She was the one who decided to send Marcus off after he killed Skipper. I’ve been so on edge about having everything dumped in my lap, but I didn’t make this mess. Why am I willing to take on the job of cleaning it up? I imagine Mama felt like this a time or two herself.