“I didn’t know until today. Mama kept it a secret all these years.”
“I’m not following you.”
Alice assisted him. “Deborah broke up with him because her snooty parents felt Josh wasn’t good enough. She was pregnant by him, they had someone else picked out for her to marry, and the two of them raised our nephew. His name is Langston Calhoun.”
“I know damned well they didn’t think that about you. You were the best thing that happened to her.”
Startled by the rare compliment, Joshua smiled.
“Wait right here.”
Gabrielle disappeared upstairs. Alice and Joshua, unaccustomed to the brief moment of camaraderie, braced themselves for the worst. Their oldest sister wasn’t friendly or accommodating toward them. Joshua knew something had gone down at the Embassy Suites because he’d never seen his sister look so helpless. Nor had she ever needed him. There she sat in the hotel parking lot in a lawn chair provided by a concierge. Boxes on either side and dejected, their sister had fallen from grace in front of Embassy guests.
“Come in the kitchen, you two!”
“What’s she doing?” Alice whispered.
“Probably carving out voodoo dolls of us.”
They laughed but honored her request. To their surprise, she sat at the island with a laptop. She navigated the screen in such a way that the three of them had access. She waved them over to the bar stools.
“Remember when we used to do our homework in here?” Alice asked. She took a seat, observing the search engines Gabrielle had pulled up.
“We always waited for Mama to finish cooking dinner. Daddy would pull weeds or tend to the garden outside,” said Alice.
“Don’t forget—”
“Mrs. Claudine Mitchell’s vanilla ice cream,” Alice and Joshua said in unison, taking Gabrielle’s words.
“Couldn’t eat it without peanuts,” said Gabrielle. “She brought some to the house this past summer. It’s in the deep freezer in the garage.”
“Let me get some bowls.”
Gabrielle clicked away at the keys as Alice retrieved the ice cream from the garage. What Daniel thought was punishment for the children—being sent to Claudine’s place to help make ice cream—turned out to be a summer highlight. Claudine enjoyed the company and the children learned how to make old-fashioned ice cream in an antique churner. They also felt sorry for her; a widow who lived with severe hirsutism, visitors were rare in her home.
“Do we have any peanuts?” she asked. She pulled three bowls from the cabinet, rummaged in the drawer for spoons and a scoop, and set the bowls aside.
“Top cabinet next to the microwave. Mr. Planters himself,” said Gabrielle. She typed faster. “I want to see what my nephew looks like.”
She waited for the images to appear on the screen. Alice fiddled with Mrs. Mitchell’s signature ice cream top as Joshua looked at his son for the first time.
He released a sharp exhale. “He has my eyes.”
Gabrielle leaned in. “He looks like you, Daddy, and Grandpa Earl.”
Alice lined the bottom of the bowls with peanuts and piled them high with ice cream, the way they all enjoyed it. She took her place back on the bar stool.
“Let me see him.” Her nephew stood with the Georgia State University soccer team. “Impressive!”
Gabrielle rattled off information she found from other sites. There were photos of him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. His popularity was evident: he stood in a circle of guys after a winning soccer game holding a trophy; two shapely girls stood on either side of him in a pose at an outdoor concert in Chastain Park; his parents hugged him during graduation.
“Zoom in on that one,” said Joshua.
They watched their brother’s transfixed eyes. He stared at Deborah and her husband so long, Alice broke the trance.
“You okay, Bro?” Gabrielle asked.
He read the caption beneath the photo aloud. “I have the best parents in the world! No one compares to Ennis and Deborah Calhoun.” Sucker punched, his voice grew terse. “Shut it down, Gigi.”
“We just got started.”
“I’ve seen enough.”
Joshua left his ice cream untouched and returned to the La-Z-Boy. Alice and Gabrielle followed him.
“Now who’s all up in his feelings?” Gabrielle asked.
“She never gave me a chance to know him. Never hinted she was pregnant. She knew I loved her and she stopped returning my calls, never answered any letters. I would have married her in an instant.”
“Doesn’t sound like she had a choice in the matter,” said Alice.
“All these years. I have a twenty-year-old son and this woman said nothing. I wish she’d put the child support bloodhounds on me. Anything to acknowledge my existence.”
“Why don’t you reach out to her?”
“Alice, look at how she snuck around with Mama all these years with the secret. I want to have a relationship with him and it’s apparent she’s not having it.”
“You can have it.”
“Gigi, the queen of creeping, speaks.”
“Alice, I’m not the queen. More like the princess. If he wants to see his son, I say go for it. There is enough information on the Internet to at least lay eyes on your child, Joshua.”
“I’m not stalking him.”
“I didn’t say stalk him. I’m saying get to know him from a distance.”
“I want to reach out to Deborah first. That’s fair.”
“She wasn’t fair to you. What exactly did Mama say anyway?”
“She told me he needs to get to know me and I need to be in his life.”
“See, you have her blessing from the grave.” Gabrielle locked eyes with Alice. “What did Mama tell you to do?”
Alice thumped her fingers on the sofa. “She told me to finish school. I only had a few credits left to get my degree before I got married.”
“You don’t sound too happy about going back.”
“Who wants to be old in a class of youngsters?”
“You’re not old. Heck, if Pearl Bailey and Helen Small can do it, so can you.”
“Who?”
“Pearl was an actress and Helen was a ninety-year-old woman who got a degree. Mama always spoke of you and them in the same breath. Said, ‘If they can go back at their age, Alice has no excuse.’ ”
“Wow, Mama compared me to senior citizens.”
Alice allowed the words to soak in. There was no legitimate excuse for not finishing school. She could have gotten a PhD, been a missionary, and discovered the cure for something after all the stagnancy.
“I know the ice cream’s melted. I’ll go clean the plates out.”
“Alice, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. I have a lot to think about.”
They watched her as she trudged to the kitchen. Gabrielle vowed to watch her tongue. It would take some getting used to, but to get along with her brother and sister, she was willing to try.
“Since you dusted off your pom-poms and can cheer us on, tell us what Mama meant about the incident.”
Gabrielle dropped her gaze again. “Joshua, you don’t want to know, and I don’t have the words to tell you.”
Joshua enjoyed the kinder, gentler side of Gabrielle. Maybe we can make her stay this time.
20
My Old Basset Hound
The campus had changed so much. Two weeks after Gabrielle shared Mattie’s quip about senior citizens pursuing degrees, Alice clutched the Savannah State campus map as Synaria helped navigate the walk between the buildings. They’d been given a tour of the campus, visited the financial aid office, and explored readmission requirements.
“I feel so out of place. Look at these children.”
Groups of students soaked up the sun, told jokes, and studied underneath towering Spanish moss oak trees. Alice felt prudish when she looked down at her dress and sandals. Most of the girls wore shorts and T-shirts with the college’s logo
. Their taut bodies were a reminder of the fact she needed to tone up areas of her body.
“They’re adults, Alice. They may be a tad younger, but you all are pursuing the same goal,” said Synaria, pulling her from thoughts of inadequacy.
“I don’t know about this, Syn.”
“Alice, did you forget you can go the e-learning route? You don’t have to come on the campus at all. You act like I’m rusty at this game. I’ll assist as much as I can.”
“By the way, I owe you for the U-Haul van.”
“You do. Your payback will be dinner for the next month. I like having company in the house.”
“I feel like I’m invading your privacy.”
Synaria stopped mid-stride. “If I have to say it a million times, Beryl is no more. You have to get used to starting over. That’s what friends are for, to help each other. Stop with this negative talk all the time. It’s not a good look. Makes you sound like a victim.”
Synaria’s candor stung. Alice demanded she take off the kid gloves and deal honestly with her, but sometimes, it was hard. She constantly apologized for little things: spilling juice near the fridge; leaving the lights on in multiple rooms; not folding the laundry in a timely manner—five minutes after she removed it from the dryer was the Beryl Parker rule—and not breaking spaghetti strings in half to make a more robust pot of spaghetti. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the Parker rules. Synaria had been patient, but she feared one day she’d come home from the library and find her things on the front porch.
“Did Jared come by to paint the bathrooms yesterday? I told him you’d be there.”
“Syn, I’m so sorry. I heard a knock on the door, but I forgot he was coming.”
Synaria held out her hand.
“Synaria, I only have one dollar.”
“It’s mine. Every time you say I’m sorry, it costs one dollar.”
“This is crazy.”
“Yes, the way you constantly apologize is crazy.”
Alice gave her four quarters, the last of the money in her purse. When they stopped by Joshua’s, she’d get the rest of the money she’d hidden in the guest bedroom.
Synaria looked at her phone. “That’s why Jared’s been calling all morning. He probably thought I changed my mind. By the way, he’s safe.”
“I didn’t think he wasn’t. I forgot he was coming by is all. I still jump at the sound of a telephone.”
They headed to Synaria’s car, chattering away like teens. A few catcalls from the young men on campus made them blush. Alice’s adrenaline rushed; it had been a long time since anyone paid attention to her.
“I hope you’re not letting this jailbait get under your skin and in your head,” Synaria joked.
“I’m thinking about school. These young bucks don’t mean anything to me.”
“Good, keep it that way.”
Synaria drove toward Joshua’s. Their morning had gone as planned, and she needed to drop Alice off to pick up the extra car in Joshua’s garage. He’d been on her mind and she didn’t want to let Alice know the thoughts she’d had of him.
“So he’s really letting you drive the ’Stang.”
“Shocked me. He knows I don’t have a car, so when he offered the key, I said yes. He put me on his cell phone plan, too. This smartphone baffles me, but I’ll get the hang of it.”
“May I ask you something personal?”
“Shoot.”
“How did you live all those years in isolation? No phone. No car. Little contact with relatives.”
“You get used to it after a while. Friends and family fall away, then one day you wake up, and your husband becomes everything. By the time Beryl was done with me, I didn’t know if I was coming or going.” Alice looked out the window, recalled a crazy incident. “One day he told me his grandmother missed me. He took me to her house and left me there two days. I had no clothes and no way to get home. I wonder if he was seeing Davina then. I’m sure he was with someone else.”
Synaria caught a glimpse of her sullen face. “Sorry for bringing up bad memories.”
“May I have my dollar back? If I can’t apologize, neither can you.”
“Touché.”
Synaria pulled into Joshua’s driveway as Alice opened the garage door.
“What time are you coming home?”
“I have a few more things to pack. You and Josh have spoiled me with these clothes and shoes. I still have the housewares I purchased from JCPenney and a few toiletries. I’m taking a nap, then heading in about five. The school tour blew my mind.”
“See you later.”
She waved Synaria away and closed the door. She placed her shoes on the rack in the garage. It was she who suggested making Joshua’s house a no-shoe zone and made him buy a stylish shoe rack from The Home Depot. The pristine carpet in her home remained crud-free for this reason. She tiptoed into the living room, taking care not to awaken her brother. He was asleep on the couch when she left for the campus. He had two more weeks of working from home before returning to the office. He enjoyed the solitude but told her he missed his coworkers. She reached for the remote, then noticed the letter taped to the television. Gone to meet Deborah. Be back tomorrow night.
“That sneak! He waited until I left.”
She and Gabrielle had begged him to see his son, at least speak with Deborah about getting to know him. The proposition was tricky but worth it; her brother didn’t need to walk around with that what-if hanging over his head.
Alice turned on the television, scrolled through the channels. She felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven. It had been years since she’d freely enjoyed television. After a few weeks of reality TV and talk shows, she decided CNN Headline News satisfied her TV jones. She also loved the Today show. She set the alarm on the clock near the bookcase for two hours; she’d take her nap, pack her things and go back to Synaria’s. She headed to the kitchen to fix a sandwich and froze near the window. She shook off the sight. “Can’t be.” She wanted to call Synaria, but she had to handle this on her own.
With trembling hands, she prepared a snack, drink, and settled in front of the television. Her attention was drawn to the window again as the familiar car, their car, coasted past her. Her earlier confidence waned. She tossed the pastrami sandwich on the coffee table, marched to the front door and went outside. Beryl put the car in reverse when he saw her on the porch. She neared him but stayed a safe distance as he opened the right window.
“Beryl, why aren’t you at work? What are you doing here?”
“It’s called a vacation,” he slurred.
“You can’t be within one hundred yards of me. You know that’s the stipulation of the protective order.”
“You’re still my wife, and I’ll see you when I want.”
“I’ll have Joshua call the police, Beryl.”
“He left a few hours ago. So you plan on calling him to call the police on me?”
Her stomach dropped. She suspected he had been watching her. Joshua’s neighbors were young professionals who took pride in getting out to work every day. She missed the old days when meddlesome neighbors reported everything to each other and the police. Trapped in her thoughts, she didn’t see Beryl get out of the car. He tottered over to her, placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Alice, this isn’t you. I said I was sorry. Baby, don’t do this to us. I can change.”
Alice batted his hands from her shoulders. He smelled as if he’d fallen into a vat of vodka. He’d missed several buttons on his shirt, his pants were unzipped, and his unkempt hair matched his unshaven face.
“Don’t you miss me, Baby?”
Images of him with Davina came rushing back. “No!”
“We both vowed for better, worse, richer, poorer, through sickness and health. Did you forget?”
“I’m moving on with my life and you should too, Beryl.”
“Is that why you went to Savannah State today? To move on with your life?”
“You followed m
e?”
He closed the space between them and whispered in her ear, “Looks like my old Basset Hound is working on some new tricks. What will you do with your degree?”
She pushed him away, headed back inside.
Beryl spoke to her back. “Thirteen years of my life gone and you can’t excuse one mistake?” The word “excuse” came as an indictment. “All I tried to do was protect you and this is the thanks I get?” His voice cracked on the word “get,” and she heard something from him she’d only heard once in all the years she’d known Beryl: crying.
Her feet glued to the front porch. He’d violated the Temporary Protective Order, but something inside her broke at the sound of him crying. The feminist discourse, the vows, the thought of starting over all swirled together like a tornado inside her. She didn’t know what to do. Barely able to stand, he staggered toward her back and spilled his tears on her dress.
“Help me, Alice. Please.”
“Let me lock the house up, Beryl.”
21
Into Thin Air
Joshua stood outside Deborah’s pediatric dental practice, unsure of what he’d say to her. Calhoun Pediatrics. The alluring office sign and building were exactly as he expected.
Deborah did nothing half-assed, and he knew she’d be successful in whatever career path she chose. He entered the building on Cascade Road determined to complete the task at hand. He was greeted at the front door by a smiling receptionist behind a desk and a little girl who immediately attached herself to his leg.
“Carissa, no! We don’t touch strangers,” said a woman who pried the youngster from his leg.
“She’s okay,” he said.
He sat down to catch his breath from the nervousness. Carissa held Ken and Barbie dolls dressed as doctors and ignored her mother. She sat next to him and held out the dolls.
“Barbie had a heart attack and Ken is going to resissitate her,” she announced through the space where two teeth once resided.
“I’m sure he’ll resuscitate her and make her feel better,” he corrected.
She placed Ken atop Barbie and made huffing sounds as Ken’s stethoscope swung from side to side.
“Carissa, get over here!” her mother yelled.
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