"You are still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he said. "And I've been all over the world. I've seen lots of girls."
"Oh." That's all I could say. It took a few moments before I came to my senses and looked past him at Mr. Joffrion, who had turned back around and was watching us. I tried to detach from Rodney's hands but he didn't seem to notice we were being glared at.
"When did you get in town? How long will you be here?" He was whispering and I couldn't answer. I was drawn into his aura and felt it bathe me in a glow that reminded me of the time we ran into each other at the Cow Palace when I was fifteen. That encounter had been the reason the Klan tried to lynch his dad and burned their house to the ground.
That thought brought me back to the present and I pulled away from him, placing my hands in the pockets of my denim jacket.
"You want to take a walk?" Rodney was looking at me, and I looked over Mr. Joffrion's head at the menu.
"Here? You're kidding, of course." I whispered over my shoulder, not looking at him.
"Where are you staying?" He was standing behind me as if in line and whispered into my ear.
"Marianne," I said as softly as I could. "I've already ordered." I said louder and moved aside so he could face Mr. Joffrion and place his order. I didn't listen to their exchange and soon my order was ready. I paid and left without saying another word to anyone.
I rushed into Marianne's house.
"Where's Lilly?" I was frantic that Rodney would follow me back to the Quarters and see her.
"She's still with Mama."
"Can you make sure she stays there? I think Rodney is on his way over here."
"Sure." Marianne walked out the backdoor and I heard the door to Tootsie's cabin slam. She was back in the kitchen a few minutes later and I was still standing there with the paper bag of burgers in my hand. Marianne took them from me as soon as we heard a car engine pull into the Quarters. I met Rodney outside at the bottom of the steps to keep him from going into the house.
We walked towards the old red barn. He held my hand and the familiar goose bumps crawled up my arms and down my spine telling me this man still had an effect on me.
The big sliding doors that were once on both sides of the barn had been removed years before and the windows, which had never had glass or screens, provided cross ventilation. We didn't talk as we headed towards the red building that had recently been painted, although it must not have been scraped first because there were bubbles in sections that indicated it would start peeling again soon.
It was breezy and I could smell the mushroomy odor of pecans and a whiff of the camellia bush in Catfish's old garden. Under it all was the familiar smell of Rodney—something I detected only on him, something like a mixture of mint, orange, and lilac. It was hard to describe, but if I were deaf and blind and he walked into my room, I'd know it was Rodney.
"Want to go inside?" He stopped in front of the barn, pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed the top of it. I rubbed my free hand along the sleeve of my jacket trying to calm the goose bumps underneath. "You cold?"
"No, I'm okay. I haven't been inside in years, have you?"
"Not since… you." The last time we'd been in that barn was a month after he'd come to New York. I was eighteen and we'd made love for the first time before he left the city. Six weeks later I'd discovered I was pregnant.
Before I found out I was expecting a baby, I had come home for Christmas and we'd met, but something was wrong. We didn't stay in the barn long. We didn't kiss or make love. He had been skittish and non-communicative and I kept asking him whether something had happened to change things between us, to which he'd said "Nothing." We were at an impasse and, eventually, he left and I sat in the hayloft and cried.
The next day we'd met in Baton Rouge and he told me that there had been new threats against his family. "Leave the white girl alone," the Klan had written in black paint across the Thibaults' new house. We'd spent the night together in Baton Rouge and he put me on a plane back to New York the next day. We didn't see each other again until after we'd both graduated from college almost three years later. I'd gone to Jean Ville for the summer while I made last-ditch attempts to get a full scholarship to graduate school, which I finally did, at St. John's.
Before I flew back to New York that August, I'd called Rodney. He was living in Baton Rouge, working at the clerk of court's office, waiting to start law school that fall. He met me at the airport and we spent the night in a motel on Airline Highway. It was bittersweet because we both knew our relationship was doomed. The only way it could work would be if Rodney moved to New York where mixed-race marriages were acceptable, but that wasn't an option because he was determined to go to law school for another three years. We'd said goodbye again the next morning when I left for New York.
The barn was cooling off from the day's heat when we stepped inside the opening where the double doors had once hung. It still smelled of horse manure and wet straw, even though there had not been livestock on the place since before Catfish died. Rodney led the way up the ladder into the hayloft. It was obvious people had been up there—piles of hay were scattered about and imprints of feet and bodies were everywhere.
"I guess the kids come up here." He spread some straw out for a place to sit under the window. I joined him and we sat with our backs against the wall. My arm was against his and even though he wore long sleeves I could feel his body heat penetrate my skin. The wind blew through the window above us and cooled off the loft. It was getting dark outside, and through the far window I could see violet rays glowing brightly behind the gathering clouds and I smelled moisture in the air.
"It's going to rain tonight," I said without thinking. He lifted my hand and kissed my fingertips, then put our hands on his knee. He had long, strong fingers and my hand felt lost under his. I felt tingles inside and tried to hide my physical reaction.
"How are you?" We said it at the same time, then we laughed. "You first." We said that together, too. "Hmmmm," I said.
"Tell me about your life, Rod." He told me that he was having a hard time forgetting the atrocities of the war. "They think JAG officers don't see action, but I could tell you stories that would make your hair curl." He said he was getting better, but still had a ways to go to get rid of the nightmares and depression that plagued him.
He told me about Maria, a girl he met in Vietnam, the only woman JAG officer there. "She has the same nightmares. I guess that's what we have most in common—an understanding of…" He looked up at the rafters and I could tell he was thinking about something awful.
"At least you're telling me yourself this time. About Maria, I mean."
"Susie. I didn't have a phone number. I didn't know if my letters from Jackson ever got to you. It was as though you'd disappeared."
"I had to move and I didn't give my address to anyone because of my dad. He came to New York looking for me."
"Oh. I didn't know."
"Water under the bridge." We were silent for a while.
"I wanted to come to New York to see you when I got back from Vietnam, but you wouldn't answer my requests." He didn't look at me, just stared straight ahead out the window. I supposed he was watching the same sunset and accumulating rain clouds.
"I invited you up last Thanksgiving."
"I couldn't go, but I asked you to come to Kansas and you never responded."
"I didn't want to see you, Rodney. I don't want to see you now, either." I could feel the anger bubbling up in my throat. I pulled my hand away and tried to scoot over to create some distance and get out of his energy field.
"Why? I don't understand."
"That's because you are not the one who waited in Union Station for more than twenty-four hours watching people get off the trains from Chicago."
"I was in the emergency room, then jail, then escaping to Jackson."
"I know. I'm sorry, but I didn't know then, and I waited and waited. I pictured you every way a
dead man could be, then I pictured you with Annette. Then I found out you brought Annette back to Jean Ville and were engaged."
"Susie…"
"And I had to find all of this out from other people. You didn't have the decency to tell me yourself." I scooted to the top of the ladder and started down. He caught up with me when I was almost at Marianne's porch.
"Wait. Please." He grabbed my arm and stopped me. He was standing behind me and I could feel his breath on my neck. "Please." I twisted around and faced him. He kissed me, long, hard, and passionately and, although I tried not to respond, I felt myself melt into his arms and return his kiss.
Finally, I came to my senses, broke out of his embrace, and ran up the steps and into the house. I closed the door to the sitting room and threw myself on the sofa bed. I could hear Marianne and Rodney talking on the porch. She refused to let him in the house to talk to me.
That night in bed with Lilly, I couldn't sleep. I went to the kitchen and had a cup of hot tea to calm my nerves.
I was still in love with Rodney, but it was hopeless. There had been changes—integration, a sheriff who enforced laws, but people still did not accept mixed-race relationships and, from what I'd heard, the Klan was still active; just a bit more discreet. I saw it written on Mr. Joffrion's face. They might go after the Thibault family tonight because of my encounter with Rodney at the Burger Barn.
I tossed and turned all night wondering what I'd do if he tried to see me again.
Rodney called the next day. I told Marianne to tell him I was unavailable. He called every afternoon for three days, but I didn't talk to him. He drove to Marianne's house Wednesday night, but when I saw his car pull up I grabbed Lilly's hand and we went to Tootsie's cabin next door.
Tootsie and I visited in her sitting room and Lilly watched the little TV in Tootsie's bedroom with Chrissy. I cried and told Tootsie I was miserable because I still loved Rodney and wanted to be with him, but it would never work and I was afraid of what they'd do to his family. She nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, chile. They’s not much has changed underneath. They still got those who would get revenge on the Thibaults if you try to be with Rodney.” Tootsie sympathized with me but gave me no hope.
He didn't stay very long at Marianne's house that evening and she never told me about their conversation, but he quit calling. I moped all week. Everything upset me—when I looked at my pitiful, sick dad, when I talked to my mother on the phone and she acted like he was my problem, when James yelled at me and called me selfish, when Lilly scraped her knee and wanted her mama. All those times, though, I knew I was angry because I'd lost Rodney and our dream, again.
It was really over, and I'd have to learn to live with that reality.
*
My brothers and I decided I should ask Tootsie if she would move into the house to take care of Dad and Sissy. Sissy needed stability and supervision so she could be a regular high schooler. Tootsie said yes without thinking twice, as though she had been waiting for the chance to live in my mother's house and take care of Daddy.
"Are you sure?" We were sitting in her kitchen. Lilly was playing in the yard and it was almost dark. The smell of gumbo on Tootsie's stove was comforting and familiar, and my mouth watered as I thought about the thick, hearty soup of sausage and chicken and shrimp over rice.
"It would be easier for me than going back and forth." She got up and stirred the tall, silver pot and lifted the lid on the rice. Steam shot up towards the low ceiling and she put the top back on. "Looking good!"
"What about your family?"
"They not going anywheres. I can come down here any time. Your daddy needs me and he been good to me all these years." She was so matter-of-fact that it made me feel better about her taking care of Daddy.
I visited him every day and we didn't argue because I refused to engage when he prodded me with hateful questions about my love life, why I chose to live so far away, and the fact that I visited so seldom.
He was sitting in his recliner on Friday when I went to tell him good-bye. His skin was not as yellowed and he smiled a crooked smile when I walked into his bedroom.
"You're looking better. Out of bed for a change." I tucked his afghan around his legs and pulled up the one sock that was slipping off his foot. I sat in the chair facing him and we chatted as if we had a relationship. He asked about my job and I talked about New York and even told him a little about Josh.
"He's a surgeon."
"About time you met someone who deserves you." We both laughed.
"Have you heard from Mama?" I was helping him back to his bed.
"Yes, she called last night to check on me. I don't think she's coming back until I'm well." He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me with a sad expression.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I guess she can't handle seeing you sick like this."
"I guess. I'm thankful Tootsie agreed to stay with me until I'm on my feet." He lay back in the bed and I pulled his afghan up to his chest.
"Me, too. She's very patient and kind and will take good care of you." I wanted to add, "She always has taken care of you, hasn't she," but I decided to leave it alone. I really must be growing up, I thought again.
James came in just as I was leaving to go back to the Quarters. "I need to talk to you." He turned and marched down the hall to the front porch. I followed and he sat in one of the rockers facing the street, I sat on the swing facing him.
"I just got back from Houston. Mama's not coming back. Ever."
"I don't believe you. Daddy talked to her last night."
"I think she has a boyfriend."
"At her age?"
"What? She's in her forties. That's not old."
"Oh, so you're taking up for her?" I wasn't looking at him but I could feel him staring at the side of my face. He had always been mean to me, and we'd never gotten along, but I felt bad for him. He was the oldest and I guess he felt responsible for the family falling apart.
"Look," he said. "You don't know everything." He stopped rocking, stood up, and faced me on the swing. I looked up at him. He was tall and handsome, sandy blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders. He began to talk, slowly at first, and softly. He told me that Daddy had beat Mama when we were growing up. He said that I didn't know about it because I was so embroiled in my own struggles to survive. He said Daddy broke Mama's nose once and that he would slap her across the face if she said something he didn't like.
"I had to pull him off her more than once." James looked over my head and stared into space as if remembering something awful. "He would hit her so hard she'd pass out on the floor and he'd be on top of her, slapping her, telling her to get up. I'd have to pull him off and help her to bed, put cold compresses on her head and try to revive her. It was awful.
"She's had enough. She said after all he's done to her she's not going to take care of him." The sad look on James's face made me hurt for him for the first time.
My mother and I never had a good relationship but I thought it was because she was jealous of me; I didn't know she was being abused, too.
"What about Albert?"
"Mama said she's going to send Albert back here once Daddy is back on his feet," James sat down hard in the rocker. "She said he needs his father and that she's tired of raising kids, she's ready to have a life of her own." He looked up at the ceiling of the porch as though pondering a far-off thought. He whispered, "I'll help with Albert. Will and Robby will pitch in." He rocked quietly for a while.
"Look, Susie, you need to go back to New York." He stopped rocking and turned his body towards me. "There's nothing for you here. With Tootsie's help, we'll handle things." It was like James was giving me permission to have a life. Somehow that meant a lot to me.
I stood and hugged him and he hugged me back. I walked back to the Quarters and felt like everything around me was crumbling—my family, Rodney, my dreams. But I also felt I'd renewed my relationship with Sissy, Marianne, and T
ootsie, and I was starting a new one with James. As for my dad, that would take some work.
Chapter Fourteen
***
Custody
Marianne took Lilly and me to the Baton Rouge airport Saturday morning. Marianne carried Lilly into the terminal, her little arms wrapped around Mari’s neck.
"I want you to come with us," Lilly cried into Mari's shoulder.
"I can't leave my mama, and you need to go back to your mama." Marianne tried to reason with Lilly, but she was inconsolable.
"When will I see you again?" Lilly was whining and holding onto Mari.
"You'll be back. And I’ll come to New York to see you."
"Promise?"
"I promise." I was secretly excited about going home, but Lilly and I were still sad to leave Marianne.
Marianne put Lilly down, and we both cried when we said goodbye, but we were secretly excited about going home.
I expected to get a cab to my apartment, but Josh was waiting in baggage claim when we came down the escalator. Lilly started jumping up and down, yelling, "Uncle Josh! Uncle Josh!" She sprang into his arms and he winked at me over her shoulder. He finally put her down so she could run to the baggage carousel. He wrapped both arms around me and pulled me to him. He kissed me hard.
"I missed you!" He looked at me with a longing I hadn't seen in a very long time. I wanted to respond but I couldn't. Rodney had broken my heart again, and I felt distant and unsure of how I felt about Josh.
"Josh, a lot has happened. I think I'll need some time." I pulled away from him, but he kept holding one of my hands.
"You think?" He laughed, pulled me by my hand, and we caught up with Lilly. He acted like he didn't hear me.
By the time we pulled up at my apartment, it was after eight o'clock and Lilly was sound asleep in the back seat of the car. Josh carried her up the stairs and put her on my bed. I pulled off her socks and jeans and tucked her in.
Lilly Page 18
