“You’re right about being positive. I’ve been reading this daily affirmation book and it has helped.”
“Good, it all adds up.”
Mena stood, wiping her hands on her dress. “I’m gonna get a plate. You want anything?”
“Not yet, thanks.” Bea fanned herself.
“Lonnie said he had the caterer make ropa vieja. I sure hope it tastes as good as Nana’s. I’ve been craving comfort food.”
“That will go nicely with the potato salad.”
“Is it that pink one Irma made? What did she put in it, beets?”
Bea nodded her head. “That’s the Dominican version. My girlfriend Awilda made it. Old-school Southern black style. You’ll have to try it.”
“Sounds good.” Mena winked and then was off.
Joney stood in front of Bea. “You look ripe and beautiful, darling.”
“Like a watermelon?”
“Like a flower with the petals in full bloom.”
“Aw, thanks, Joney. How’s it going?”
“There are no worries worth complaining about.”
“I hear that. How’s the yoga?”
“It’s been amazing. As soon as you have the baby I’m dragging you to class with me.”
Bea made her eyes wide. “I might just take you up on that. Have you eaten?”
“That’s what I’ve come over for. You can smell the food from Main Street.” She headed toward the buffet.
Bea watched the party buzz around her, wedged up in everyone’s glee. The children’s laughter rang out and every appreciating nod told her that it was a good party. Awilda teetered over to Bea clutching a plastic cup. When she sat next to her, Bea could see the fruit floating around on top.
“Didn’t your mother tell you that you never show up and outshine the birthday girl?”
“You look beautiful, Beasley. I like those earrings. And look at that hair. ’Bout time you let it down.” Awilda leaned in and air-kissed her.
“Did Derrick make my barbeque shrimp?”
“Yes, he was up at the crack of dawn making his special sauce. No one knows the recipe but him.”
“You make the potato salad?”
“Just the way you like it: a little extra mustard but light on the celery. Hungry heifer.”
“I’ve been saving my calories all week for that.” Bea looked at Awilda’s drink. “All I need now is that glass of sangria you’re holding.”
“It’s a mama juana. Here.” Awilda thrust the glass in her direction. “You can have a little sip.”
“Chile, please, Mena would kill me. She’s nervous enough as it is.”
“She doesn’t have to know. I’ll pour a little—”
“Sis, I was kidding. You better be careful, don’t drink more than a shot or two. That mixture will sneak up on you and have you doing freaky things.”
“Umph.” Awilda sipped.
“They say it’s an aphrodisiac. Where are your menfolk anyway? I didn’t see Derrick walk in with you.”
“He’s holed up back at the house with a case of beer and the remote. Told you the disability shit wasn’t a good idea. With Amare down at my mother’s, and Derrick and I constantly alone, I’ve come to the realization that I can’t stand that man.” Her face grew dark.
“Stop that. He’s going through a rough patch.”
“Rough my ass.”
“You took vows, in sickness and in health. And he’s sick. He hasn’t cheated on you, hasn’t beat you. Have mercy.”
Awilda pursed her lips and blew her breath.
“Your makeup looks pretty.”
Bea warmed at the compliment. “I feel like my nose is ginormous.”
“It’s not.” Awilda started moving Bea’s hair around on her shoulders. “There, perfect picture.”
Bea blushed.
“Let’s take a selfie.” Awilda held up her phone and took the picture. “I need more alcohol. Want anything?”
“I’m going to make myself a plate in a minute. I really don’t want to get up because that means I’m going to have to talk to people.”
“When did you become antisocial?”
“I just can’t, Wilde.”
“Who are you and where is Bea?”
“I don’t know.” Bea giggled. “A pregnant woman who doesn’t feel like being bothered.”
Awilda’s dress swished around her round tail as her platform heels gobbled up the grass. Bea caught one of Lonnie’s married coworkers watching her walk.
Just then, Alana came over to her, crying because one of the cousins pulled her hair.
“Let Mommy fix it,” she said, smoothing her daughter’s hair and planting a warm kiss on her forehead. Bea went and made herself a plate. She opted for the pulled pork slider, a big scoop of potato salad, two servings of barbeque shrimp, and Cuban corn on the cob. If she was lucky she had about one hundred and fifty calories left for cake.
“Let me carry that for you.” Clark intercepted her plate. “What do you want to drink?”
She wanted punch but she told him a bottle of water. She ate as slowly as she could. It helped being at a table and mingling with some of the guests. Most of them were Lonnie’s friends. Bea could count on one hand the people who’d actually come to see her. As soon as she’d had her last bite, Lonnie came over with the cake and everyone sang “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you,” she said and then asked Lonnie to cut her a small piece. He heaped a good-sized one onto her plate and instead of complaining she ate it down to the last crumb and then licked her spoon. She was sure she had exhausted her calories but since it was her party, she decided to take a break from beating herself up and try her best to enjoy the moment.
The sun sank, half the children scrambled inside to the family room to watch television, and the other half went up to the playroom for video games. It was adult hour. Cigarettes were out and the laughter got louder. Bea noticed her younger cousin Benny and his friend heading to the garage. Her mind flashed to the gun case that she kept in there but it was locked and the key was hidden. So there was no danger. She had allowed her twentysomething cousins to smoke marijuana in the garage at Easter. Apparently since she’d said yes once, they didn’t even bother to ask. Lonnie had told her the first time she let them how shocked he was at her being so liberal. They all laughed about it now and called the garage the boom-boom room. When Bea looked over, Awilda was heading in there. That girl.
Lonnie pulled up a chair next to her. His eyes glistened. Bea could tell that he was juiced up and jolly.
“Having a good time?”
“Not as much as you.”
“It’s a beautiful night. Look at our beautiful people. Think everyone had a good time?”
That was always Lonnie’s concern, that the people who entered their home had fun.
“I think so.”
“Are you happy?”
“I’m not unhappy.”
“It’s not the same as being happy. What can I do to make you happy?”
Awilda was holding onto the arm of Bea’s younger cousin and heading to the bar.
“I think you are going to have to drive Wilde home since Derrick isn’t here. She’s been going hard all night.” Bea pointed as Awilda stumbled and Benny caught her.
“Only if you promise to be waiting for me in that sexy sheer number I like.”
“As if that fits.”
“Really, you can just wait for me in nothing at all. I’m not picky.”
“You’re talking like a drunk man. You sure you can drive her?”
“Is the grass green? Just remember what I said.” He blew her a kiss and stood. He punched the air with his hand and the DJ faded the song he was playing and spun Bea’s favorite song by Rihanna, “Don’t Stop the Music.”
“Dance with me.” Lonnie held his hand out to her. Bea took it.
“You’re always up to something.”
“It’s all for you.”
Bea popped her head and snapped her fingers. Lonn
ie pretended like he couldn’t get up on her because of her belly and they both laughed. Bea danced to three songs before the exhaustion kicked in. On her way to find a seat, people doled out hugs, great birthday wishes, and their so longs.
* * *
Bea was on the sofa with her feet up on the ottoman. The crew was in the yard breaking everything down. Her children were in bed, dirty and dreaming about the fun they’d had. Lonnie sauntered in. Seeing him gave Bea a rush to her head. He was handsome in his crème linen shirt and shorts, hair combed away from his face.
“Wilde okay?”
“She was drunk as a skunk.” He slipped out of his leather Bally shoes and moved toward the armchair barefooted. Bea always thought he had pretty feet. “What’s going on with her and Derrick?”
Bea shook her head. “They’re not doing well. Why? What did she say?”
“She went from happy to sad in like point-five seconds. Crying and babbling.”
“Like tears?”
“Yes. I had to search in the glove compartment for tissue. Then she started up with how she needed to get out more, her life was so boring, and how she just wanted to have sex.”
“She said that to you?” Bea sat up.
Lonnie chuckled. “Not with me, babe. You know we are like brother and sister. I guess she meant with her husband.”
“Still. That girl can be so inappropriate. You’d never know she was a preacher’s daughter.”
“So what’s happening with them?”
Bea told Lonnie about Derrick losing his job, the disability, beer, and TV.
“I’ll call him or swing by and check on the brother this week.” Lonnie slid into the seat next to Bea. “Kids asleep?”
“Knocked out. Didn’t even brush their teeth.”
Lonnie wrapped his arms around Bea and she could smell every drink he had consumed. It made her feel nauseous.
“You ready for our trip?” He nibbled on her ear.
“Not at all. It’s still a week away.”
“When do you want to tell the children?”
“Tomorrow sounds good.”
He put his hand on her thigh but Bea couldn’t even pretend to be in the mood. She pushed his hand away.
“I’m tired, sweetie.”
Lonnie’s eyes flashed. “Okay.”
When they got upstairs, he reached for her under the covers, moving his hand down her thigh.
“Can you just hold me?” she pleaded, rolling away from him.
He nodded his head and buried his face in her hair, snoring before Bea was anywhere close to asleep.
TEN
The Low Down
The next few days found Bea putting her house back together in the aftermath of the party, changing the children’s closets over from winter to summer clothes, and sorting what needed to be donated. They had both outgrown their summer things from the previous year, so she spent two straight days running between the Mall at Short Hills and Livingston, stocking up on shorts, sundresses, and T-shirts. Bea didn’t like to shop online, she preferred to touch and feel the items she bought. Since her family was going away, she skipped the open-air market with Awilda on Wednesday and opted to cook and get rid of the items that were in her fridge so there wouldn’t be any waste.
When Awilda’s picture flashed on her cellular phone the day of their D.C. trip, she realized they hadn’t actually spoken in a week.
“Every sister ain’t a sister,” she teased.
“Girl, you know my life is crazy. But I need a big favor.”
“What do you need?”
“Can you come to the school and lend me a quick hand?”
“Can’t. Getting ready to head down to D.C.”
“Please, Beasley. I need help breaking down my classroom for the summer. It has to happen today.”
“So you call the pregnant woman?”
“I’m not asking you to get on a ladder. Just come help me organize a few things.”
Bea blew her breath. “Can’t you get a coworker?”
“I don’t trust none of these bitches in here with my stuff.”
“Wilde,” she complained.
“Pretty please with cherries on top. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need you.”
“Yes, you would.”
“Come on, Bea.”
“I can give you an hour. Not a minute more. I have things to do too.”
Bea hung up the telephone. The list of road snacks that she needed to pick up was on the counter. She folded it in half and then shoved it into her shorts pocket. Awilda’s school was practically a straight shot from Bea’s house and it wasn’t long before she was wheeling her car into an empty spot. She dabbed at the sweat on her brows while texting Awilda to come and get her. She could never find her way through the maze of the school to Awilda’s classroom.
Awilda burst out of the door in a hot-pink blouse and gray pencil pusher pants. “Thank you so much.” Awilda wrapped her arms around Bea.
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m only staying an hour.”
Awilda led Bea through the hallway past the seventh grade lockers and up the stairs.
“I hope that’s not your outfit for the trip.”
Bea had on a black shirt and a pair of faded jean shorts that she’d worn when she was pregnant with Chico.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I’m going to be in the car for four hours. This is comfortable.”
“Bea, you’re going away with your man. You can do better. Put on that maxi dress you wore last time we went to the open-air market.” Awilda turned into her classroom.
Bea rolled her eyes.
“And a little lip gloss and mascara. Look happy.”
“I’m not happy to help you with this classroom mess.” She looked around while repinning her bun. “Dag, it’s hot. Don’t you have AC?”
“It’s out. Repair man is working on it now.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Start over here. Just sort this pile for me in alphabetical order.”
Bea sat behind the desk. Awilda had all the windows open wide and her iTunes was open on her computer, playing a song by Miguel.
“You were out of control on the night of my party.”
“Girl, I shouldn’t have smoked that joint with your little cousin. I was out of my mind. I woke up and didn’t even remember how I got home, let alone into the bed.”
“Lonnie drove you and you…”
“Did I embarrass myself? Please don’t say I embarrassed myself in front of your company.” Awilda’s eyes pleaded. Bea thought about telling her what she’d said to Lonnie but decided not to. Nearly a week had passed since the party and she didn’t want to come off sounding insecure and whiny.
“You just don’t want to be that messed up out in the street. Something could happen to you.”
“I wasn’t in the street. I was at my best friend’s house and I knew you would take good care of me. Like always.” She stood on a chair and started pulling things down from her bulletin board. “You know your home is the only house I can just show up to without calling? I can’t even do that with my mother.”
Bea stacked the first pile and moved onto the next. “What’s up with Derrick?”
“Same.”
“I’m going to swing by and see him. I never thanked him for the barbeque shrimp. They were his best ever.”
“He’d like to see you. Been holed up in the house getting fat.”
“Maybe you two should head down to the beach this weekend.”
“With what money? He hasn’t gotten his first”—she made quotation marks with her fingers—“‘disability check’ yet so everything has been falling on me.”
Bea looked down at the papers she was sorting. She made it a rule not to offer Awilda money because it was so easy for her to get swept up in fixing her problems.
“Something’s bound to change.”
“From your lips to God’s ears. Here, work on this too.”
Bea’s phone chi
med. It was Lonnie, texting that he would be home early. That relaxed Bea enough to get swept up in Awilda’s gossip on a budding romance between two teachers in the building.
“One of them is married. His wife comes bearing fresh-baked cookies to every holiday party.”
The conversation made Bea stay longer than the intended hour. When she got to the store, she was behind schedule and even more so once she reached home.
“Hey, baby.” Lonnie kissed her cheek and took the reusable bags from her hands. His leather duffle bag rested against the back door.
Bea’s mind raced. “Where’re the kids?”
“Upstairs playing the Xbox.”
“Are they ready to go?” she snapped.
“I think so. What’s wrong?”
“I just hate being off schedule.”
“We’re fine. It’s not like we have to be there at a particular time.”
“Can you pack the snacks for the car while I get the rest of my things together?”
“I was about to check in with the office.”
“Forget it.” The pressure of getting everyone out of the house and making sure they didn’t forget anything was too much all of a sudden. Anxiety had hunkered down in the middle of her chest. When was the last time she had eaten?
Lonnie’s eyes took her in. “What do I need to pack?”
She sat at the counter and peeled a banana. “Just make little baggies for them from the snacks that I just bought. Can you pour me a glass of milk?”
He placed the glass in front of her and she drank it down in a few gulps. After her banana, she went upstairs.
“Chico, turn that game off. We were supposed to leave an hour ago.”
“But you weren’t here.”
“Did you pack your toothbrush?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Bea went into her room. The carry-on that she had brought down from the attic was opened on her bed and she threw in a few outfits. Where was her toiletries bag? She stood in the middle of her bathroom going over her list in her head, hoping she didn’t forget anything essential. She usually put so much energy into preparing everything for her family when they traveled that she always forgot something vital like panties or deodorant. That’s when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Awilda was right. She looked a mess.
And Then There Was Me Page 9
