by Mary Monroe
“Jade’s gwine to be fine! Devils don’t go down easy. Look at me!” Scary Mary blurted with an animated look on her face.
Bully and Otis managed to chuckle; everybody else remained stoic. I moved closer to Pee Wee, mainly so I could rearrange Charlotte on his lap. The way she was positioned, with her head turned too far to one side, she was bound to have a sore neck the next day.
“Now ain’t that nice,” Scary Mary commented, looking from me to Pee Wee with her head tilted so far to one side that her floppy red wig shifted. “I’m so happy to see y’all gettin’ along so nice.” She sniffed and gave me a mysterious look. “Annette, ain’t this a whole lot better than you sittin’ in your house prostrate with grief over Pee Wee takin’ off with that woman?”
I heard several snickers. Every head in the room turned to look at me as I leaned in front of Pee Wee with my legs about to buckle. Scary Mary had caught me off guard with her comments.
I cleared my throat and stood up straight. “I wouldn’t say that I was prostrate with grief,” I quickly clarified. “I’ve moved on with my life.” My last sentence made everybody uneasy. The noncommittal expression on Pee Wee’s face disappeared. “By the way, when do you plan to come by the house and remove the rest of your stuff?” I asked him.
He looked shocked, and a split second later he looked disappointed. “Uh, I’ll talk to you about that later,” he told me.
CHAPTER 58
Scary Mary was the kind of person who made herself right at home, no matter whose home she was in. As old and “sickly” as she claimed to be, she hobbled in and out of Rhoda’s living room like a young squirrel with a tray of drinks each time. She fussed at people for spilling alcohol on Rhoda’s nice fluffy carpets, and she even volunteered to cook up a few snacks. People were drinking like fish, but only a few were interested in eating anything. That didn’t stop Scary Mary from throwing together some cheese and crackers, and some other finger foods, and passing the trays around with such a relish that you would have thought we were at a block party.
I tried my best not to look at Pee Wee across the room, because it seemed like every time I looked in his direction, he was looking in mine. At one point, he looked like a lost puppy. His face was long, his eyes drooping, and his lips looked so tight I was surprised he was able to open them wide enough to shove in the cheese and crackers he kept snatching off the tray every time Scary Mary got close enough.
When Pee Wee ended up standing next to me, he suddenly remembered “a previous engagement,” so he decided to leave. I knew that his leaving had a lot to do with what I’d said about him coming to get the rest of his belongings.
“It sure was good to see you, Annette. You are lookin’ well,” he told me, his eyes darting from side to side like a condemned man.
I had no idea why he felt so uncomfortable in my presence, especially this late in the game. There was nothing else he could do or say to upset me that he hadn’t already done or said. Even though I still felt some pain and anger, I was also well on the road to recovery. But he was clearly agitated as he stumbled toward the door, almost walking into the wall to keep from looking me in the eye.
“I’d better be on my way,” I told Rhoda about ten minutes after his departure.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Not really. And to tell you the truth, Rhoda, I don’t think that things will ever be ‘all right’ for me again.”
When I got home, Pee Wee’s car was parked in my driveway. He was in the driver’s seat, looking like he didn’t have a friend in the world. I had not expected to see him, and I was not happy to see him on my turf. As far as I was concerned, he had no right to show up unannounced. He had given up that right when he moved in with a woman he thought he’d be happier with.
By the time I parked my car, he had jumped out of his and run over to mine to open my door. “I…I just wanted to make sure you got home all right,” he said, following me to my front porch doorsteps.
“You didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to do anything for me. I can take care of myself,” I told him in a firm tone of voice. I already had the key to my front door in my hand. The last thing I wanted this man to think was that I was weak in any way. “I did it before you married me, I can do it now.” I couldn’t stop myself from adding that little dig.
Charlotte, still snoozing, was in my arms. Her body was as limp as a wet dishrag. Pee Wee was so close behind me I could feel his breath on my neck. Of course that irritated me and I almost dropped Charlotte as I stumbled toward the door. He attempted to take her, but I silently pushed his hands away. As soon as I got inside, I placed her on the couch, covering her with a light green blanket that I’d left on the couch from the night before.
“You can leave now. You don’t have to worry about us,” I assured Pee Wee. “We’re getting along fine without you.”
“I’m sure you are, Annette. You know how to get that point across real good. But that still don’t mean I don’t worry,” he said, plopping down in that old La-Z-Boy chair of his.
I stood with my arms folded. “I’m surprised you haven’t come back for that damn chair yet,” I commented under my breath. He ignored my comment.
He was clearly uncomfortable, so I did not understand why he had bothered to come to the house on this particular night. We stared at each other for a few moments. He looked confused, then tense. When the phone rang, he looked relieved, and I heard him release a sigh of relief that was so profound it sounded like a hiss.
I was apprehensive about picking up the phone. The machine was on, but I didn’t want the call to go to it. The speaker was on, and if the caller, meaning Jacob, said something stupid, I didn’t want Pee Wee to hear it. I grabbed the phone in time and I was glad to hear the voice of Mr. Combs, the widower who lived in the big brown house across the street.
“Annette, I was just checking to make sure you’re all right,” the old man began. “I’ve been real worried about you. Is everything all right now?”
Now?
“I’m fine…now,” I told him, puzzled.
“That’s good. Did you straighten out that mess with that jitterbug peeping in your front window? I hope so. Because the other night when he did it, he also peeped into your car. I told my grandson Harvey that that spook was up to something. If you come out to your car and find it vandalized, or sugar in the tank one morning, you’ll know who done it.”
“Mr. Combs, what are you talking about?” I glanced at Pee Wee. Like me, he looked thoroughly confused.
“Honey, you don’t have to try and hide nothing from me. I’m only concerned about your welfare. You remind me of my niece in Biloxi.”
I had to deal with old folks every day of my life. With my parents and Scary Mary racing with one another to see which one could drive me crazy first, I was used to the ways of the elderly. I thought I was going to have to go across the street and sit on Mr. Combs for him to cut to the chase. “Brother Combs, I have company right now, so I don’t have a lot of time to talk. Could you please get to the point?”
He sputtered through a few coughs first. “Didn’t the po’lice bring you home earlier tonight?”
“That’s correct. Why?”
“Well, since you ain’t disabled, coming home in a squad car had to be because you got a mess on your hands. And it must involve that sport I’ve seen visiting you on occasion since Pee Wee took off. He’s the one I seen peeping in your front window and your car.”
I could feel my blood rising and my heart sinking. “Oh, thank you for telling me,” I said, trying not to sound too concerned. “You have a blessed night.”
“God willing. You just be careful now. This is a close-knit neighborhood, and we look out for each other. Me and your daddy go fishing all the time. I keep my hunting rifle and a baseball bat handy. You need me, all you got to do is holler and I’ll come running. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Combs, would you do me a favor and not mention any of this to my parents? I
don’t want to worry them.”
“I won’t say nothing about it to them. Now you make sure all your windows and doors is locked.”
I hung up and turned to Pee Wee. He spoke before I did. “Who was that? What is it you don’t want your parents to worry about?” he asked, giving me a tentative look. “Is there somethin’ goin’ on around here that I should know about?”
“That was Mr. Combs across the street. Uh, he told me there’s been reports about a burglar breaking into houses on our street.”
Pee Wee rose, hands on his hips. “What?”
I motioned with my hands for him to sit back down, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved closer to me with his hands still on his hips.
“Don’t overreact,” I advised. “We’ve had break-ins in this neighborhood before.”
“I’m goin’ to get a pit bull for you! No—three pit bulls. I want you to keep one in the front yard, one in the back, and one in the house at all times. I’m goin’ to have a burglar alarm installed first thing tomorrow mornin’.”
“I told you that I can take care of myself, Pee Wee,” I said weakly. I paused and exhaled a sour breath. I had drunk a glass of wine at Rhoda’s house and I could still taste it. “Do you think Lizzie would mind if you stayed with me and Charlotte tonight?” I asked, wringing my hands and looking toward the window. I knew Jacob had some issues, but his recent actions and what Mr. Combs had just told me made me realize that Jacob’s issues were more serious than I thought. “You can sleep in your La-Z-Boy,” I said quickly.
“No problem,” Pee Wee said without hesitation. “Just get me a pillow and a blanket.”
“What about Lizzie?”
“What about Lizzie?” he asked with a look of mild disgust on his face.
“Shouldn’t you call and let her know you’re staying here tonight? I don’t want to cause you any problems with her.”
“Baby, I’ve had problems with that woman from the day I moved in with her. But this is not the time to talk about that. I am more concerned about you and my daughter.” He paused and shifted his eyes, like he was trying to decide what to say next. “You and Charlotte are my family.”
CHAPTER 59
I smelled bacon as soon as I rose out of bed the next morning. I grabbed my robe and padded down to the kitchen immediately. Pee Wee was gone, but he had prepared a breakfast fit for a queen.
“Mama, that sure smells good,” Charlotte exclaimed, running into the kitchen. “So what is going to happen next with Jade? Is she going to be okay?” Charlotte asked, already spooning grits from the pot on the stove onto a plate. She plopped down in a seat at the table.
“Jade had an accident, but she’s going to be all right,” I answered. I wasn’t hungry, but I poured myself a cup of coffee, and I plucked a piece of bacon off the tray on the stove. I quietly sat down at the table and faced Charlotte. She was humped over her plate like a pig at a hog-trough.
“An accident? Yeah right!” Her mouth was full of food. She talked and chewed at the same time. “Puh-leeze! Getting hit by a car or falling out of a tree is an accident! Mama, I’m not stupid. I don’t know why you and everybody else keeps treating me like a child.”
“Because you are still a child,” I reminded her firmly, giving her the kind of look that made her sink down into her seat.
She swallowed hard and gave me a critical look. “I know Vernie beat Jade’s butt and sent her to the hospital, and he didn’t do it by accident.”
I didn’t like the amused look that was now on my daughter’s face, but I could see the humor in the situation. “Get that stupid look off of your face, girl. What happened to Jade is not funny.” It was a struggle for me to keep a grin off my face.
“And I know that Vernie is in jail, Mama. I already told you that I hear things when nobody knows I’m listening.”
I gave Charlotte a threatening look. I wanted her to know that she was on thin ice. “You’d better stop listening, because sooner or later you’re going to hear something you don’t want to hear.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She licked her empty spoon and remained silent for a few moments. “So…since Daddy stayed the night here—I heard you and him talking last night when you thought I was asleep—does that mean you’re going to let him come back home?”
“He stayed here last night because…because this is still his home. Technically, at least.” I sipped some coffee. “Now shut up and finish your breakfast.”
I called Rhoda’s number twice during the day, and each time Bully told me she was too upset to take my call. I was tempted to go to her house again, but under the circumstances, I had a few issues of my own that I needed to focus on. One was, I still had to contact Jacob about the money he owed the funeral home.
I waited until the following Monday evening to make that call. I knew he worked during the day, and leaving messages on his machine would be a waste if time. I decided to call him around eight thirty that night.
“Jacob, this is Annette,” I began. I was leaning over the counter in my kitchen. I had brought home the red folder that contained the paperwork related to his account. It was open to the first page, but I turned to the second page because I had dog-eared it. I was amazed to see that three of my employees had left that man a total of twenty-eight messages on his answering machine. He had had twenty-eight opportunities to make some arrangements to resolve this issue. He had ignored them all.
“Uh-huh! I figured you’d come crawling back to me soon! I am not perfect, but I’m a good man, and I know you will eventually see that and stop clowning me! I don’t know what you expect in a man at your age. You ain’t no Queen of Sheba.”
“Jacob, this is a business call,” I said calmly.
“You can call it whatever you want to call it. The thing is, I still have feelings for you.”
“The thing is, I’m calling about a bill you still owe. I need to collect on it.” It felt good to knock him off of the high horse he had climbed onto. There was complete silence on his end for what seemed like a very long moment. “Jacob, are you still on the phone?”
“Yeah.” He paused again and cleared his throat, gurgling like he was choking on a bone. When he spoke again, his voice was so loud it sounded like he was talking through a megaphone. “A bill? What bill?! What the hell are you talking about? I don’t owe you a damn thing. You must have me mixed up with one of your other punks! Like the one I saw sneaking off your porch that time!”
I was so tempted to tell him that the “punk” he’d seen “sneaking” off my front porch was Vernie. But since that poor boy was in jail and until I had all of the facts, I didn’t even want to bring up his name to a fool like Jacob. Vernie was going to get demonized enough when all of the Richland meddlers got wind of his predicament.
“Jacob, in case you’ve forgotten, I work for the Mizelle Collection Agency. My job is to collect unpaid—”
“Wait a minute! Is this about that steak house thing we didn’t pay?”
“No, this is not about that steak house thing you didn’t pay. It’s a real unpaid bill.”
I heard him gasp so hard he choked on some air. I leaned back on my legs and braced myself.
“Woman, I know damn well you didn’t call me up about a damn unpaid bill! I don’t owe nothing to nobody in this world! You need to learn how to do your damn job right, because like I said, you must have confused my name with somebody else’s! Shit! You just ruined my evening! And to think that I was about to call you up and ask if I could treat you to a nice Italian meal! You…you—now you’re acting just like a black woman!”
“That’s because I am a black woman,” I reminded him.
“And that’s your problem! I bet if I had me a half-white woman like Pee Wee, I wouldn’t be going through all these changes!”
“I’m just doing my job.”
“Fuck you and your job, BITCH!”
The only reason I didn’t complain about Jacob’s unnecessary use of profanity was because I was used to it. It came with the terr
itory and I expected it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a pleasant conversation with a debtor.
“Do you want to dispute the claim from the funeral home?” I asked in a gentle, very professional voice. I wanted him to know that his hostile reaction didn’t faze me.
“Huh?”
“Do you have proof that you paid off your mother’s final expenses in full? Because if you do, then I apologize on behalf of my company. But if you didn’t and need to set up some payment arrangements, I can assure you that we can negotiate—”
“You negotiate my dick, BITCH!” Jacob hung up so fast and hard, my eardrum started throbbing.
Before I snapped his folder shut, I removed a marker from my notions drawer and printed a note to myself on the front page: Initiate garnishment of wages. Mr. Brewster has made it abundantly clear that he has no intentions of settling this account.
Before I could leave the kitchen, the phone rang. I groaned and prayed that it was not Jacob calling me back. It was Pee Wee.
“I’m going to go see a man about them pit bulls later tonight. I should have you set up by tomorrow evening,” he told me.
“I don’t want to be cleaning up after three dogs. But I’d appreciate a very good security alarm. I think I’m going to need one now.”
“Oh? Did something else happen? Was there another burglary in the neighborhood last night?”
“Not that I know of. I just…I’d just feel safer with a security system in place. Just in case.”
“Annette, I know you. Is there somethin’ goin’ on that you don’t want me to know about?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it yet,” I said. “I don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“It’s Lizzie, ain’t it? She called you up about me spendin’ the night over there!”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because she told me she was goin’ to do it! She told me this mornin’ when I got home that she was goin’ to put you in your place—”
