The Sometimes Daughter

by Sherri Wood Emmons

  Mama sat up straight, her eyes wide.

  “No!” Grandma’s voice was sharp. “No, you cannot talk to her. This is a holiday, young man. It’s Thanksgiving... . Yes, I’ll tell her. But I’m sure she won’t want to talk to you.”

  Grandma walked back into the dining room, wringing her hands. We all stared at her.

  “That was a reporter from the Star,” she said, not looking at Mama. “He wanted to talk to Cassie.”

  “No!” Mama yelled. “How did he know I’m here?”

  “I don’t know,” Grandma said. “But I told him you weren’t interested in talking to him.”

  “Oh, God,” Mama said, dropping her head into her hands. “They know where I am. How do they know? What am I going to do now?”

  Daddy rose and walked around the table, draping his arms around her. “You’re going to finish eating Thanksgiving dinner, and then we’re going to do the dishes, and then we’ll go home and maybe eat some more pie. And then we’ll go to bed. And you’ll be fine. Do you hear me? You’ll be fine.”

  Mama was shaking so hard she rattled the table. I stared at her, frightened.

  “Cassie?” Daddy dropped to his knee beside her chair and took her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I will not let anything bad happen to you. Do you hear me? I promise you, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes. Finally, she nodded her head and leaned against him.

  “Judy and I are here, and Mom and Dad are here, and we’re going to take care of you. I promise we’re going to take care of you.”

  “But what if ...”

  “Cassie, you’re not in Guyana, okay? You’re in Indianapolis, Indiana, in the United States of America. Nobody is going to come get you and take you away. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

  Mama started to cry, her shoulders shaking.

  Grandma rose and motioned for me to follow, which I did gladly. I wanted to be away from where Mama sat sobbing. We began clearing dishes from the table.

  “Why don’t you lie down for a little while?” Grandpa said to Mama. “You look like you could use a nice nap.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Daddy agreed, pulling Mama up from her chair. “Lie down and rest for a bit. I’ll stay with you, I promise. I won’t leave you alone.”

  I watched him take her hand and pull her toward the back hallway, watched her follow him like a child, holding his hand tightly. My eyes stung with tears.

  “Now, missy.” Grandma’s voice was firm. “No tears from you. Come on, we’ve got a job to do.”

  But then she pulled me into a hug and kissed my head. “It’s okay,” she said. “Your mama just needs some rest.”

  I leaned into her ample chest and rested my head on her shoulder. Grandma always seemed sure of things. And when I was with her, I felt surer, too.

  After we had cleaned up the dishes, Daddy and Mama and I walked back to our house. Daddy carried most of a pecan pie. I carried a big bowl of whipped cream. Mama chewed her fingernails and held Daddy’s hand tightly.

  We hadn’t been home long when the doorbell rang and I ran to answer it. Standing on the porch was the balding, paunchy man who was Mama’s father.

  “Hello, Judy,” he said, smiling. “Do you remember me?”

  I nodded and held open the door.

  “They’re in the kitchen,” I said, then followed him down the hall toward the light.

  “Cassie!” The man’s voice broke when he said it, like he was about to cry. Mama looked up in surprise and smiled at him.

  “Hey, Dad.” She rose and opened her arms. They hugged for a long time.

  “Oh, honey, we were so worried about you.”

  “I’m okay,” Mama said, pulling back slightly. She looked toward the doorway, then back at her father.

  “Mother didn’t come,” the man said. “We thought it might be best for now.”

  Mama nodded and sat back down at the table.

  “Have you eaten, John?” Daddy asked. “We’ve got some great pecan pie.”

  “No, thanks, Kirk. I’ve eaten.”

  “How about a glass of wine then?”

  Daddy poured a glass for the man and set it on the table in front of him. The man smiled and took a sip.

  “How are you, honey? Are you okay?” he asked Mama.

  “I’m okay,” she said again.

  “We were worried sick when we heard.... We’re just so glad you’re all right. Karen wants to come see you this weekend, if that’s okay. She’s been out of her mind.”

  “Who’s Karen?” I asked.

  The man turned to me and smiled. “Why, she’s your aunt, Judy. She’s your mother’s sister. Don’t you remember her?”

  I shook my head.

  “All the more reason for her to come, then. It’s time to start putting this family back together.”

  “How’s Mom?” Mama asked, not looking up from the table.

  “She’s all right. She’s been so worried about you. Honestly, she has. She just ... well, you know, she’s your mother.” His voice trailed off.

  “I’ll bet she wishes I’d died in Guyana.” Mama’s voice was dull and flat.

  “Oh, Cassie! Don’t say that. Don’t even think that. Your mother loves you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “She does, honey. We both do. It’s just, she has a hard time showing it. She’s ... well, she’s your mother.”

  He sat quietly for a minute, watching Mama. Then he took a long drink from his glass and set it on the table.

  “Actually, Cassie, we—that is, your mother and I—we want you to come home and stay with us, for as long as you need to. Your old room is just like you left it and we have plenty of space and ... well, you can’t stay here forever.”

  Mama stared at him for a minute and grimaced. “Thanks, Dad, but no thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “Of course you will,” Daddy said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “And you can stay here as long as you need to get back on your feet.”

  Mama looked from her father to Daddy, then rose and walked out of the kitchen without saying anything.

  “Is she all right?” my grandfather asked.

  “She’s pretty shaken up, John. She’s really upset and not thinking clearly. Give her some time, she’ll be okay.”

  “Well, if there’s anything we can do, anything at all, will you call us? Seriously, Kirk, she’s my daughter and I want to do right by her. And she can’t stay with you all forever.”

  “I know,” Daddy said. “But for now, we’re okay. Cassie needs some time and space to figure things out. She’s got to do some grieving. I think it’s good for her to be with Judy and me.”

  “You’re a good man, Kirk,” my grandfather said. He stood and shook Daddy’s hand. “She’s lucky to have you in her corner.

  “And you,” he said, turning to look at me. “You’re probably the best medicine in the world for her right now. You be good to your mother, okay?”

  I nodded. He wasn’t mean like his wife.

  After he left, I went to Mama’s room and knocked on the door. She didn’t answer, so I just went in anyway. Mama was lying on the daybed, curled up like a little kid. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t look at me. I stood a minute, uncertain what to do, my stomach clenched. Then I climbed onto the bed and curled myself into the curve of her body. She put her arms around me and sighed deeply.

  “I love you, Mama,” I whispered.

  “I love you, too, my Sweet Judy.”

  15

  We spent a quiet weekend at home, just the three of us. Mama slept a lot. Daddy worked at the kitchen table on some papers. I read, watched television, and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. I was bored, but I didn’t want to leave Mama alone. I was afraid she might leave again, or maybe that she would die.

  On Sunday, Lee Ann called and asked me to come to her house. Carol was coming to visit. We hadn’t seen Carol since summer vacation, now that she went to a different school.

  “I can’t,
” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, my mama is still here and ...”

  “Judy?” Daddy put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay for you to go to Lee Ann’s. Your mother will be fine. I’ll be here. You go on and see your friends.”

  So I walked to Lee Ann’s house. Her mother hugged me tight and kissed my forehead.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, smiling at me.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Well, if you need to talk about anything, anything at all, you know I’m here, Judy. You can come anytime and I’ll be here.” She hugged me again.

  “Okay.”

  Mrs. Dawson said stuff like that. Sometimes it made Lee Ann roll her eyes, but I liked it, because I knew she really meant it.

  She made us some hot chocolate. Then Lee Ann, Carol, and I went to Lee Ann’s room and flopped on the bed. None of us spoke at first. Carol stared at me as if I were an alien. She twirled her long black hair around a finger and watched me from beneath a fringe of bangs.

  “Are you glad your mom is home?” Lee Ann asked.

  I shrugged.

  “What’s she like?”

  “She’s different than she used to be,” I said, sipping my cocoa.

  “Like how?” Lee Ann asked.

  “Well, she used to be fun, you know? But now ... she’s really scared. And she sleeps a lot. And she cries a lot. She’s just different.”

  Lee Ann took my hand. “Well, she’s still your mom. So you have to love her.”

  “I guess so. I mean, I do ... I think.”

  Carol snorted. I stared at her. Finally, she set down her cocoa and brushed the hair from her face.

  “Your mother is crazy,” she pronounced. “My mom says she’s crazy and she’s been brainwashed and she’s probably going to hell.”

  I stared at her in silence.

  “What’s ‘brainwashed’?” Lee Ann asked.

  “Well”—Carol smiled slightly—“it’s like in voodoo, how the witch doctor can make people do whatever he wants them to, because he has control over their minds.”

  “But if that man had control over their minds, then he’s the one who should go to hell, right?” Lee Ann said softly.

  “Oh, but they let him have control,” Carol said. “So that means they’re going to hell.”

  Lee Ann said nothing as Carol picked up her cocoa and began sipping from the mug.

  “She is not,” I shouted.

  Both of them turned to look at me now.

  “She’s not crazy and she’s not brainwashed and she’s not going to hell!”

  Carol smiled at me like I was a toddler.

  “Then why did she belong to that church? My mother says ...”

  “She went to that church because they were helping people.” I rose from the bed and stood over her, my hands on my hips. “They were helping poor people and ... and lots of things.” I didn’t want to mention the drug addicts.

  “They were a bunch of nigger lovers,” Carol said firmly, as if that proved her point. “My daddy says that black men were sleeping with all the white women. I bet your mother had sex with lots of niggers.”

  Without warning, without even planning to, I slapped her hard across the face.

  “Hey!” Carol put her hand to her cheek and stared at me, her eyes wide.

  “You’re just hateful,” I said, “and prejudiced. And ... and you don’t know anything!”

  I slammed the door behind me when I left the room and ran down the stairs toward the front door.

  “Judy?” Mrs. Dawson emerged from the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”

  I didn’t even stop to answer her. I grabbed my jacket from the coat tree and left the house, running down the sidewalk toward the safety of home.

  “Hey,” Daddy said when I came into the house. “You’re back.”

  I nodded, keeping my head bowed so he wouldn’t see the tears pooling in my eyes.

  “Judy?” he said as I ran up the stairs toward my room. The phone rang then, and he went to answer it. A few minutes later, he appeared at my bedroom door.

  “Honey, are you okay?”

  I nodded again.

  “Mrs. Dawson called. She told me what happened, what Carol said.”

  “She said Mama is going to hell.” I was sobbing now. “And that she probably slept with lots of men ... black men.”

  “Oh, honey.” Daddy sat on the bed and scooped me into a tight hug. “Carol’s parents have filled her head with lots of nonsense. They’re just ignorant, stupid people. They don’t know anything about your mother, or anything else.”

  He held me while I cried. Neither of us heard Mama come into the room. I saw her first, standing just inside the doorway, holding a coffee cup, tears dripping from her chin.

  “It’s okay, Mama,” I said.

  Daddy rose and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Don’t worry about it, Cassie. The Millers are just ignorant bigots. They moved out to New Palestine when the schools integrated. That tells you just what kind of people they are.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mama whispered, reaching for my hand. “I’m so sorry, Sweet Judy. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  I took her hand and Daddy wrapped his arm around me and the three of us stood together, just holding one another for a while.

  Finally, Daddy stepped back and took my chin in his hand. “Mrs. Dawson says that Lee Ann told Carol off after you left.”

  “She did?”

  “And Carol called her mother to come get her.”

  “I slapped her,” I said, not meeting his eyes.

  “You did what?”

  “I slapped her right in the face.” I could feel my cheeks reddening. I had never hit anyone before in my life. I knew I was probably in trouble now.

  “Oh, my Sweet Judy.” Mama dropped to her knees beside me and pulled me into a hug. “Oh, honey, you should never, ever hit anyone.”

  “I know.” My voice came out in a whisper.

  “Well,” Daddy said after a minute, “she deserved it.”

  Mama stared at him in surprise, and then both of them began laughing. I watched them in disbelief. They laughed until Mama started crying again. I wondered if I would ever understand grown-ups.

  Later that afternoon, Mama’s sister arrived. I’d never met my Aunt Karen, but I could have told you who she was if I saw her on the street. She looked just like Mama, except her hair was short and she wore high heels.

  “Cassie!” she cried, pulling Mama into a hug. “Oh, good Lord, honey, I’m so glad to see you.”

  We all sat at the kitchen table. Daddy poured coffee for the adults and cider for me. Mama smiled at her sister, but she seemed nervous. She kept shredding paper napkins on the table.

  “How are you?” Karen asked.

  “I’m okay,” Mama said. She glanced at Daddy and he nodded and smiled at her.

  “Well,” Karen said firmly, “you need a haircut. When’s the last time you cut that mane?”

  She reached out and pulled a lock of Mama’s hair. “I mean, it’s beautiful hair, but you need some shape, some style.”

  Mama smiled at her and took a deep breath, then relaxed into her chair.

  “I’ll take you to my stylist down in Greenwood,” Karen said. “No, don’t argue. She’s a miracle worker and you’ll love her. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. Now, what’s your clothes situation?”

  Mama laughed then. “Oh, Karen, you just never change, do you? I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too, honey.” Karen patted Mama’s hand. “Now, about your clothes ...”

  I followed them into Mama’s room, where Karen surveyed the meager wardrobe Mama had brought with her.

  “Okay,” she said, eyeing a dark blue sweater. “We’ve got some serious shopping to do. No, don’t argue. Just get your jacket and let’s go to the mall.”

  She turned to me. “Do you want to come, Judy?”

  I shook my head. The idea of trailing along behind this power shoppe
r held no appeal.

  “Okay, then.” She nodded. “That’s probably best. You stay here with your daddy and leave the shopping to the pros.”

  Soon they were gone, leaving Daddy and I alone in the kitchen. Daddy smiled at me. “So, what do you think of your aunt?”

  “She’s kind of ... bossy,” I said.

  “She is that,” he agreed. “But I think she’s just what your mother needs right now. She won’t ask a lot of questions. She won’t make Cassie talk about it. Karen is always focused on the here and now. I think she’ll help your mother.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I agreed.

  “She’s so different than Mama,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Daddy said. “She’s a whole lot like her father, very take-charge. But she’s also really kind, and when they were little, she and your mama were pretty close.”

  “How come I never met her before?”

  Daddy sipped his coffee for a minute, then set the cup down on the table.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay ... it’s kind of an ugly story. But I think you’re old enough now to understand it.”

  I stared at him. What ugly story?

  “Your mama grew up in a pretty wealthy family. Her father, that’s your Grandpa John, he’s a very successful businessman. He traveled a lot when Cassie was growing up. And Pat, your grandmother, she didn’t really ... she wasn’t ... well, you’ve met her. You’ve seen how she is. She wasn’t a very good mother.

  “So Karen took care of Cassie a lot. She’s a couple years older, and like you saw, she’s a take-charge kind of person. But she was good to your mama. When Cassie had bad dreams, Karen would sit with her till she fell asleep again.”

  “But then why ...” I started.

  “Okay, so when your mother was sixteen, she went to a party with Karen. Most of the kids were older, but Karen knew them. They were her friends. Anyway, there was alcohol at the party, and Karen had some to drink. And she lost track of Cassie.”

  He paused to take a drink of coffee and stared at the table. Then he shook his head.

  “So, some guy at the party gave your mama some drugs that made her very sleepy. And when she went to lie down on a bed, he followed her and ... and he raped her. Do you know what that means?”