Mrs. Barnes, our teacher, took us to the office to face Principal Jones. He spanked Lisa and excused her. I rubbed my face from the one punch Lisa got in. Principal Jones gave me a cold compress and it soothed my face for a short time. Too embarrassed to face him, I dropped my head as he spoke.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Antoinette. I’ve never known you to fight. What got into you today?”
I shrugged. I looked at the photos of Principal Jones with his wife and Lisa. They seemed so happy. So normal.
“What did Lisa say to you?”
I paraphrased her words without thinking. “She said you said my mother is crazy and you’re going to fire her.”
Principal Jones made a steeple with his hands. His face reddened as he stood and came toward me. “Lisa said that to you?”
I nodded.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Lisa misunderstood a private conversation I had with her mother. Your mother is a valuable member of our school and we’re doing what we can to help her. Everything will be fine.”
“May I go back to class?” I asked, pressing the compress closer to my stinging jaw.
Principal Jones picked up the phone and dialed a number. He toyed with the abacus on his desk as he waited for the caller to answer. “Mavis, Antoinette isn’t feeling well. Will you please come pick her up?”
I gazed out the window as they discussed other things and waited for him to hang up.
“I’m sorry for what Lisa said, Antoinette. My doors are always open for you. You’re like a daughter, and if you need to talk about anything, I’m here to listen.” He paused. “How has your mother been? How is your father?”
Clay and Mavis made me and Willa swear on Grandma Rose’s Bible not to discuss anything about my mother or my father’s difficulty caring for her. What went on in the Williamson household stayed in the Williamson household. Clay said people were like vultures, always swooping down to get gossip like it’s a dead carcass. “No need to feed ’em the bird with your words,” he said.
“She’s doing okay, Mr. Jones. We’re supposed to be taking a vacation to Florida this summer.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, Antoinette.” He paused again. “How is Willa?”
“She’s well.” I looked out the window again and was relieved to see Aunt Mavis’s Honda.
I knew she wouldn’t take me home, because I had overheard Daddy saying he’d take Mama to her psychiatrist’s appointment that day. When I got home in the evenings from May and Ray’s after Mama’s appointments, Mama’s catatonic state scared me but made me comfortable. She couldn’t hurt us or say mean things. Aunt Mavis came into the office and greeted me with a hug and kiss for my boo-boo. She tossed the compress Principal Jones gave me in the trash and replaced it with one of the cold icepacks she kept in her freezer.
“Thanks for calling, David. I’ll take care of her when she gets home.”
“Don’t make a big fuss. Lisa’s mouth prompted this confusion.”
“Oh.” She looked at my face and motioned for me to go to the car.
I waited in the car as Principal Jones escorted her outside. Concern filled both their faces as they chatted. Principal Jones said something to her and caressed her hand. In return, she gave him a quick hug.
“Are you still allergic to the sauce on Big Macs?” she asks, drawing me back to the present.
“Ma’am?”
“Do you want something to eat or is your stomach queasy?”
Whiplash waits for my response as she nuzzles against me.
I face the canine. “Girl, when did you get out of your seat?”
“I’m taking her for a walk in a sec. She has to tinkle and move around.”
“I’m not hungry. Thanks anyway. I’ll eat later.”
“Where were you, anyway?”
“The old days. Do you remember picking me up from Principal Jones’s office after Lisa bullied me? How is he?”
“He died of prostate cancer about three years ago.”
“Where is Lisa?”
“You mean Dr. Lisa Jones-Candler? She followed in her family’s footsteps and is a professor at Stanford. She’s done well for herself.”
Wow. Even mean Lisa Jones found a husband. She probably tied him down and made him marry her. My stomach churns again.
“Aunt Mavis, do you have any aspirin?”
“Will Advil work?”
“Anything will do. Get me a small Hi-C orange, please.”
Aunt Mavis places the order as Uncle Raymond pulls into a spot on the lot. She gets our food, parks next to Uncle Raymond, and gives me the medicine bottle.
“Give me Whiplash’s fries out of the bag.”
I pass the fries and pop the cap off the Advil. Whiplash barks louder for her fries as they exit the car. Aunt Mavis joins Uncle Raymond and they walk Whiplash around the parking lot hand-in-hand. I watch them and the way they communicate. Uncle Raymond smiles lovingly at her as she swats his hand away over something he said. I always envied their marriage and wanted my parents to be like them. I shared my fantasy with Clay once and he said marriages like May and Ray’s don’t happen overnight. He went on to say a lot goes on behind the scenes. Compromising and forgiving. Sometimes forgetting.
My phone tings. Jordan’s text asks a familiar question since Saturday.
Did I do something to offend you? Please reach out to me.
What’s there to say? I’m not who she thinks I am and I don’t know how to make things right. I recline the front seat and let the Advil take effect.
Chapter 10
Aunt Mavis taps my shoulder and startles me awake.
“Where are we?”
“Good ole’ Sparta, GA. You were beat. You slept all the way in.”
I sit up and check my surroundings. I talk a good game about being a motherless child, but I loved my hometown when I lived here.
“Do you need to stop anywhere?”
“Not right now.”
In the rearview mirror, I see Uncle Ray steering my car. He’s keeping pace with the traffic about three cars behind. My old stomping grounds create a flood of questions.
Aunt Mavis reads my face. “A lot of your favorite places are gone.”
“I see.” A towering new high school sits off the road to my right. “When was this school built?”
“Late eighties, early nineties. It was a long time coming, and a welcome site.”
“What happened to the old HCHS?”
“It’s still standing. I can drive you by there, but it’s a shell of what it used to be and an eyesore.”
I sigh and a quick image of Willa races through my mind. I tagged along with her for summer band practice. She was a majorette who twirled her baton as if her life depended on it. When Mama didn’t feel like taking her to practice, Aunt Mavis brought us her homemade butterscotch ice cream sandwiches and dropped us off at the football field. I stood in awe of Willa and the other majorettes as they perfected dance routines with the band’s accompaniment.
“Aunt Mavis, let’s take a spin downtown.”
She heads toward the courthouse. We round the square and my heart skips several beats. To the right of the courthouse sits the same gas station Daddy and Uncle Ray frequented for oil changes and tires.
“Chamblee’s is still standing.”
“Always went toe-to-toe with Rachel’s. The store is under new management now.” Aunt Mavis chuckles and points at the competition.
We swing a left and the Drummer’s Home stands tall and proud. This was Mama’s home briefly, before she went to Georgia Mental. Clay sat at his cherry roll-top desk and wrote out checks for her rent on the twenty-eighth of each month for almost a year. She’d write me letters from the Drummer’s Home and I’d refused to open them. He’d offered to read them, but I thought it best they be returned. The roller-coaster ride with her was too high and too frightening.
Aunt Mavis slows her pace so I can take in the city. I ache for the missing staples that have di
sappeared. Allied Department Store is gone, the place Mama stocked up on hosiery and bras. Deraney’s was Willa’s favorite store because the proprietor set aside Jordache jeans for her and allowed her to pay for them with her Captain D’s earnings.
I look to the right and gasp. “What happened to the Hargrove Theater?”
“Burned down years ago. I was hoping they’d rebuild it. I loved double-dating with your parents there.”
“Remember the Thanksgiving movie festival every year? Or the time Mama snatched the wig off that woman’s head she thought Daddy was seeing?”
“All Paul did was fix Cathy Jean’s bathroom cabinets, but your mother wasn’t convinced.”
Laughter fills the car and Whiplash releases a low growl as if she remembers the snatching too.
She taps the steering wheel. “We need to stop at IGA for Sure-Jell. Before you called, Ray and I were canning jelly and cucumbers. The kitchen is a mess. You’ve been warned.”
She parks at IGA and fishes in her purse for money. I stop her frantic search.
“I’ve got a little over one hundred dollars,” I joke.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Lamonte went to the bank—never mind. I’ll get what you need.”
My attempt at humor reminds me of how much I never knew him. I look at Aunt Mavis and decide to keep his funds siphoning to myself. She looks exhausted. Guilt fills me for having her come to my rescue.
“Tell me how many boxes I need to get.”
“Get three of the small ones and Morton’s Kosher salt.” She hands me a twenty and I give it back.
“Your money’s no good here.”
Whiplash barks and scratches at the door.
“I’ll be right back, girl. Stay put.”
I head inside and am greeted with hellos and smiles. Lamonte promised me that when we retired, we’d move to a small town and purchase a gigantic house in the country with a wraparound porch.
I shake away that memory as I stop at the tomatoes. “Lamonte is no more. Lamonte is no more.”
“Did you say something, Sugar?” an older man standing in produce asks me. He steps closer and I admire his blue linen leisure suit. He tinkers with the black-and-silver Medic-Alert bracelet on his left wrist and smiles, releasing a fresh burst of Listerine.
“I said tomatoes galore, tomatoes galore.”
“They sure are pretty this time of the year. You can make some real good chow-chow with these green ones.” He lifts one for me to inspect, then places the tomato with the others and extends his right hand. “Name’s Battle. You from around here?”
“I’m just running in for my Aunt Mavis.”
“Lawton?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s your aunt?”
I nod.
“I been knowing May and Ray for years. They’re good people.” He considers my branch on the family tree and touches my shoulder. “How your Mama and ’nem doing? Been a while since I’ve seen Greta.”
“Everybody’s fine.” I swallow hard and do what I do best. “I am on my way to see her today.”
“Tell her Battle said hey for me, okay? Me and Ray go way back. Fought in ’Nam together and everything. I knew he was gonna be something in the military. He always did have good leadership abilities. Your daddy, Paul, made the best cabinets in the South. Had the market cornered ’til he moved up North. Matter of fact, tell ’em all I said hello.”
“I will, sir. Thank you for your kind words.”
“You ain’t got to be so formal. Call me Battle.”
“Okay…Battle. I’ll tell them you said hello.”
I slink away in hopes no one else stops me for small talk. I could do this all day. This is what I longed for in Atlanta—a place to call home where someone knew me, knew my people. I make it past the honeybuns and breads and my stomach growls. I stop at the sound of raucous laughter between women one aisle over. As soon as I find the Sure-Jell, I will creep behind them to find the source of their joy.
“It’s like I said, Norma, you can’t beat good home training. These young folks don’t know a thank you from a please. Forget about ma’am and excuse me. I don’t know who’s raising them, but that’s been lost in the school system.”
“Mmm-hmmm. Sure is.”
I nod my amen and think of some of the youth I encountered while mentoring.
“When I was teaching, there was a respect code the kids had to follow. None of this sagging pants and earbud, head-bopping mess I see now. I don’t know how these young teachers do it. I would have been on the news for slapping the taste out of their mouths.”
“Shirley, quit. You have more tact and couth than that.”
“Norma, did you hear who the cat dragged back into town?”
“Shirley, I’ve got to get my commodities and watch my stories. Make it quick.”
“That ole’ prodigal daughter of Greta and Paul’s.”
“Hush yo mouth!”
My legs are driftwood. I stay on my aisle, but inch closer to the bottles of salad dressing.
“You didn’t see the story in the AJC?”
“Girl, no.”
“You taking this unplugging from society too seriously. You know that girl left here years ago and nobody had seen hide nor hair of her until they did a story on the state of mental health in Georgia. But I knew where she was because of the lowdown way she did my granddaughter, Annette.”
“Where was she all that time?”
“Up in Atlanta with Clayton.”
“Myles?”
“Mmm-hmmm. I still can’t look his ex-wife, Lorene, in her face. Looks like she would have known he was sweeter than a pecan pie, but she spent all those years holding on for nothing.”
“Well, he is what he is. I’d rather he be himself than to pretend to want that woman and play with her feelings.”
“Norma Ann Jasper, you’ve lost your religion! Ain’t nothing right about what you’re saying!”
I race to the next aisle and confront the women. “If you have something to say about me or my family, say it to my face.”
Norma is the weaker one. She breaks their semi-circle, drops her face, and allows me enough space to face the bully, Shirley. Shirley slings her purse over her shoulder and tightens her grip on the handle in case she decides to swing it my way.
“I’m not changing one word. You should be ashamed to show your face around here. Pretending your mother is dead and acting like you don’t have family in this town.”
“Shirley, don’t.” Norma digs her fingers into Shirley’s arm, but she is stronger than a planted tree.
Her voice grows louder. “It ain’t like Atlanta is Los Angeles. Bet you were so proud of yourself sitting up on TV during that interview, showing pictures of you and your sister, like nobody knew who you were.”
“What my family does is none of your business.”
A small crowd gathers as Shirley gains momentum. “It is my business when my granddaughter speaks to you while taking her class on a field trip and you act like you don’t know her!”
Her granddaughter, also my fourth-grade classmate, Annette Cousins, spotted me at the World of Coca-Cola. Her students gathered around her as she handed them tickets. I heard my name, but ignored it because I was taking a break to clear my head from a hectic project.
Her voice grew louder as I walked in the opposite direction. “Aren’t you Antoinette Willamson from Sparta? We went to school together years ago.”
She stopped me and I faced her. “You have me mistaken for someone else.”
“It has to be you. I’d know you anywhere. Remember, the Hollywood Daddy game? Our shared bully, Lisa.” She laughed but regained her composure when I wouldn’t travel down memory lane with her.
“Truly, I’m not the person you’re looking for. Sorry.” I walked away with a ton of remorse.
Karma kicks in again as Shirley keeps going. “All she wanted to do was introduce you to her students since you’d done so well for yourself. She was
so proud of her successful classmate.” Her air quotes as she says successful are hard and vicious.
The crowd parts like the Red Sea as my aunt, uncle, and Whiplash approach us. “What’s going on here?”
Shirley shifts her purse to the opposite shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Queen Mavis, the Sparta Secret Keeper.”
“What did you say to her, Shirley?”
“Only that she’s ungrateful and should be ashamed to show her face around here. Everything else she needs to know, you should tell her. Then again, that’s not the Lawton way, is it?”
A few mmmm-hmmms and ain’t that the truths fill the aisle. Aunt Mavis turns on her heels and I attempt to follow her out.
A familiar woman in the crowd in a stylish suit shoves a piece of paper in my right hand and lifts her fingers to her ear. “Call me.”
Chapter 11
Greta
I should have never spoken to the paper. It’s been a few days and Toni hasn’t come to see me yet. I had this dream that she would run to the Cooper Building, demand to see me, then take me out to the courtyard and sit and talk with me like old times. I didn’t expect Willa to come, but Toni…I wanted her to come to my rescue.
I’ve been going back and forth to the window, looking down. I don’t know what kind of car she drives, but I’d know her if I saw her. She’ll stop at Kroger on 441 and get me this big bouquet of pink, red, and blue flowers. Maybe she’ll remember our Thursday night fish fries and stop over at James Fish and Chicken and get a dinner for me. Even though I haven’t eaten in a few days, I would eat for her. I received an injection because they said I hit Annalease. I would never harm her.
’Halia is mad at me and hasn’t been to see me. Jesus either. Clark is as irregular as a menopausal woman’s period, so I don’t think he’s coming back. I’m a little disappointed in ‘Halia. Maybe she’s disappointed in me. I’m thinking back to the last time I saw her and can’t figure out what I did wrong. We talked about our marriages, about her singing, and how she fed people in her neighborhood. Then we got into an argument about child-rearing. ’Halia said I should love both my daughters the same. She shook her head and folded her arms when I told her about Willa poisoning me. She said daughters didn’t do such terrible things to their mothers and I should apologize.
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