by Julia Watts
“And when would this dinner be?”
“How about Saturday at six? Ben can meet you at the interstate exit to show you the way to the house.” Ben glowered at her, and she stuck out her tongue at him.
“Well ...” Ida waffled. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll talk to Charles when he gets home and see what he says.”
“Okay, well, let me give you the number here.” Ida hung up the second Lily recited the last digit.
Two beers for Lily and three dog biscuits for Mordecai later, the phone rang. Lily had only gone so far as to say “Hel —” when Ida said, “We’ll be there — Saturday at six.” Click.
“Well, they’re coming,” Lily sighed.
Ben shook his head. “It’s kinda hard to figure out whether that’s good news or not, isn’t it?”
That night, Mordecai slept in the bed between Lily and Ben, taking up more than his fair share of room. Between Ben’s snores and Mordecai’s flatulence, Lily could scarcely sleep for the noise and air pollution. Soon, she comforted herself, they’d be in their shoe box of a house, where at least they could sleep in canine-free separate beds.
The housekeeper had dusted, scoured, or vacuumed every available surface of the McGillys’ colonial-antebellum-style home. In thirty minutes, Ben would be meeting the Maycombs at the Versailles interstate exit to escort them to the house. Right now, though, Lily and Ben sat on opposite ends of the slate-blue and mauve living room, dreading the evening ahead of them.
Jeanie strode into the room, nervously glancing at her gold watch. “Benny Jack, you heard me tell your daddy to be home by five-fifteen so he could change into some decent clothes, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mother, I heard you.”
“Well, if you heard me, why the hell didn’t he?” Jeanie was wearing a peach jersey sundress and tan canvas espadrilles. A small strand of undoubtedly real pearls hung just below the hollow of her throat. Her curly brown hair hung loose around her tanned shoulders. She looked stylish, comfortable, and very, very rich.
Lily was wearing a sky-blue dress she had borrowed from Jeanie. Except for her most faded pair of Levi’s, it was the lightest-colored garment she had worn since she was a kid. But for Mimi she’d suffer anything — even pastels.
Lily looked down at her daughter, who was playing on the floor and wearing a mint-green smocked dress. Lily watched as Mimi spotted Mordecai, a demonic gleam in her eye. “Mookie!” she squealed, then pulled herself to standing at the coffee table, walked three tentative steps, and fell smack on her diaper-padded butt.
“Omigod!” Lily yelled at the exact same moment Jeanie did. Lily picked Mimi up and swung her through the air. “Mimi-saurus, that was great! You’re a toddler now!”
“Did you see that, Benny Jack?” Jeanie was breathless with excitement. “Your little girl just took her first steps!”
“Yeah,” Ben said, sounding completely devoid of interest. “Well, I guess I’d better go pick up the Cobb County cretins now.”
As he headed out the door, Jeanie shook her head in exasperation. “Men. Sometimes I think they just don’t know what’s important in life.” She turned her attention to Mimi. “Now, I think a big walking girl ought to at least get a cookie if her mama says it’s okay.”
Lily smiled. “Of course it’s okay. This is a special occasion.”
Jeanie and Lily assembled a salad while Mimi nibbled her cookie. “It would be great if Mimi would walk in front of the Maycombs tonight,” Lily said, slicing a cucumber that she was secretly thinking of as Mike Maycomb’s penis. “That way, they’d see she’s developing normally in this environment —”
“You know,” Jeanie said, chopping a tomato, “Big Ben told me about Mimi not being yours by blood, but I’ve never seen nobody love a child the way you love her. If these people can’t see that, there’s something bad wrong with them.”
Lily felt her eyes fill, and it was carrot, not onion, that she was chopping. “Mimi’s the world to me. She’s all I’ve got.”
“Besides Benny Jack, you mean?”
“Yeah, right. Besides Benny Jack.”
Just as Jeanie had feared, Ida, Charles, and Mike Maycomb arrived at the house before Big Ben. Big Ben’s absence made Lily nervous. She knew the Maycombs would be more comfortable if there was a patriarch presiding over the evening’s events, and as far as patriarchs went, Ben the younger didn’t quite fit the bill.
When Ben the younger walked in with Ida, Charles, and Mike, a rictus of a smile was frozen on his face — the kind of grin worn by a death’s head. “Come on in,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Lily and I would’ve invited you over to our new place, but you would’ve had to sit on unpacked boxes.”
The three Maycombs glanced around the living room— approvingly, Lily hoped. Despite the hot weather, Charles and Ida were both dressed for a Sunday service at Calvary Baptist. They looked as starched and proper as Dick and Pat Nixon in their heyday. Mike, however, was going for a more casual look. In his ridiculous fuchsia polo shirt with matching fuchsia and kelly green plaid pants, he was dressed for a day on the golf course.
Ida nodded at Lily and emitted a frosty “Hello.”
“Hi,” Lily said as brightly as she could manage. “I’m glad y’all could make it.”
Ida’s frostiness melted away when her eyes came to rest on Mimi. “There she is!” she whooped. “Grandma’s little precious!”
Mimi stretched out her arms. “Gamma!” Ida picked up her granddaughter and held her close.
“She took her first steps today,” Lily said.
“She did?” Ida crooned, “Gwamma’s little angel’s getting to be a big girl. Charles, did you hear that?”
“Sure did.” Charles shifted his feet uncomfortably, obviously wishing he was in a setting where he would feel more comfortable, like a book burning or a Klan rally. He looked over at Mike for a cue. Lily had noticed how both Ida and Charles tended to follow Mike’s lead. To them, their son was one of the greatest minds of this, or any, century. Lily had no doubt that contesting her custody of Mimi had been Mike’s big idea ... and that he had convinced Ida and Charles of its wisdom.
“Hel-lo!” Jeanie half sang, emerging from the kitchen as though she was making her big entrance in a play. “Please, sit down, and make yourselves at home. I’m Jeanie McGilly, Ben’s mama.” She shook hands with her guests, who introduced themselves. “I am so sorry that my husband hasn’t arrived yet. I’m sure you know how hard it is to drag a man away from work, don’t you, Ida?” Jeanie’s smile was stunning. “Can I get you folks anything to drink before dinner?”
Lily saw Charles recoil slightly. The Maycombs were teetotalers who regarded anyone who drank so much as a beer a day as a hopeless alcoholic. Jeanie must have noticed Charles’s reaction, too, because she added, “Iced tea? Lemonade?”
They all sat in the living room, glasses of lemonade in hand, unable to come up with a single topic of conversation. Lily sat close to Ben on the couch, her hand in his. It was difficult to pretend to be in love. Real love was such a natural flow of feeling that it was hard to know how to fake it.
“So, Lily,” Ida said at the point where the sipping of lemonade was becoming a deafening sound, “how did you and Ben meet?”
“Oh, we’ve been friends for years,” Lily said, trying to smile at Ben adoringly. “It was only recently that we started to become ... more.” She attempted a giggle, but stopped it when she decided she sounded demented.
“Yeah,” Ben added, “Lily and me together—who’d have thought it?”
“It’s just like that movie When Harry Met Sally,” Jeanie said, “where the couple’s been friends for years before they realize they were meant to be together. I just love mushy movies like that, don’t you, Ida?”
“We don’t see many movies,” Charles answered for her. “Too much bad language.”
Jeanie smiled politely “It is a sight, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think we all know who’s in charge of Hollywood,” Mike said �
��And it’s not the Christians.”
Lily squeezed Ben’s hand so hard she expected to hear the bones crack. They had been sitting in uncomfortable silence for a few moments when the front door swung open. “Oh, that must be my husband,” Jeanie said.
It was. Big Ben was wearing his customary plain white T-shirt, blue jeans, and work boots, but he was smeared from head to toe with what appeared to be axle grease. His lips looked startlingly pink in contrast to the black gunk on his face. “One of the blame machines at the mill broke down, and I had to fix it. You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.” He nodded at the Maycombs. “I’m Benny Jack’s daddy, by the way. Ever’body calls me Big Ben.” He looked down at his grease-blackened paw. “Don’t mean to seem standoffish, but I don’t reckon y’all’d wanna be shaking my hand right now.”
“Honey —” Jeanie’s voice was tense. “Why don’t you take a shower before you put the steaks on?”
“I reckon I will.” Big Ben wiped his brow, smearing grease across his forehead. “Think I’ll just grab me a be — a Co’Cola first.” It was Big Ben’s custom to consume a six-pack of Budweiser between the time he got home from work and the time he went to bed, but Lily had asked him to abstain while in the Maycombs’ presence.
Later, as they sat around the dining room table, everyone but Lily and Mimi slicing into huge, bloody slabs of steak, Ida chirped, “Lily, I just don’t see how you can stand to be a vegetarian. I mean, what do you eat?”
Lily smiled so tensely that her jaws ached. “Everything but meat.” She speared a forkful of salad.
“Well,” Charles began, “doesn’t it say in the Bible, though, that the Lord gave man dominion over animals?”
“Well, Lily’s softhearted when it comes to animals,” Ben said. “You know how women are.”
Charles, Ben, Mike, and Big Ben all shared a laugh about the sentimentality of womenfolk. While wringing her napkin under the table as though it were a human neck, Lily noticed that Jeanie rolled her eyes at the men, while Ida laughed right along with them.
They were very different women, Jeanie and Ida. While Jeanie might enjoy reading a romance novel while lounging in the pool, she definitely knew the difference between fantasy and reality. She never let a man have the final word just because of his gender, and as a mother and a businesswoman, she exuded competence and confidence.
Ida, however, lived in a world in which she unquestioningly took orders from God and her husband, not necessarily in that order. No matter what her husband and son said, she smiled in agreement. If Ida ever had any complaints, Lily was sure that she muttered them under her breath instead of saying them out loud.
“You know,” Charles began, “I was just saying when we were driving through Versailles how I kinda envy y’all for living in this small town. Some of the best folks anywhere live in small-town America—God-fearing, hardworking people who aren’t afraid to do for each other.”
Or to mind each other’s business, Lily thought.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Charles continued, “I like where we live out in Cobb County. I could never live right in Atlanta, though. There’s a certain element there I just don’t want to associate with. I think you know who I mean: the crack dealers, the prostitutes, just all the bla —”
“People who haven’t found Jesus yet,” Mike finished for him.
Of course, Lily thought. You Lieutenants of the Lord are willing to disguise your racism in order to preserve the patriarchy.
“Well, of course,” Ida said, smiling sweetly, “there are ... undesirables wherever you go. In small towns, you get the trailer trash and the Holy Rollers.”
“How’s that?” Big Ben asked, leaning over the table intently.
“What my wife means is, those Church of God people,” Charles said. “You know, the ones that shout and dance and speak in tongues and act crazy.”
“They’re very unrefined,” Ida said, with a superior simper.
“Some of ’em even drink strychnine and set themselves on fire,” Mike laughed.
Big Ben set down his knife and fork. “I was raised in the Church of God. Now, we wasn’t the kind to handle snakes or set ourselves afire or nothin’ like that. But we would shout and speak in tongues and get happy. And you wanna talk about some fine people ... they was some of the best folks you’d ever meet in that church.” He took a slug of Coke. “Now, I ain’t in that church no more, mind you. Jeanie and Mama joined up with the Presbyterians a while back, and I joined up with ’em. I don’t hardly go to church there, though, ’cause the preaching and the singing’s so quiet, it seems like I have to start snoring just to make a little noise.
“I’ll tell you somethin’, though. A few years back I was down in Mississippi on bizness, and I looked up this ole army buddy of mine—a black feller. He invited me to a tent revival his church was having. I was the only white man in that tent, and I swear to God, I don’t believe I sat down once during the whole service ... I was too busy standing up and clapping and singing. Them people knew how to have church, let me tell you.” Big Ben picked up his silverware and dug back into his steak.
“Well, of course, there’s good people in every group,” Charles waffled. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant, buddy,” Big Ben said, looking Charles in the eye.
“So,” Jeanie said, with determined cheer. “We got pound cake and chess pie. Who wants what?”
As everyone sat with their coffee in the living room, Lily crawled down on the floor with Mimi and helped her to a standing position. “How about a little after-dinner entertainment, Mimi-saurus?” Lily said. “Why don’t you show Grandma and Grandpa how you can walk?”
Mimi stood with her little hands clenched, steeling herself for action.
“Come on, sweetie. Walk to Mama.”
Mimi knitted her brow, sucked in her breath, and took one, two, three faltering steps before falling into Lily’s arms. At the sound of her grandparents’ applause, she grinned crookedly.
“I swear,” Big Ben said, “I think she’s just about the happiest baby I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, of course she’s happy,” Jeanie added. “Why wouldn’t she be? She’s well taken care of, and loved.” She looked straight at the Maycombs. “Mimi may not be hers by blood, but Lily’s still one of the best mamas I’ve ever seen.”
Lily’s stomach clenched. All evening she had been wondering how to broach the subject of Mimi’s custody with the Maycombs. Now it seemed that Big Ben and Jeanie were going to cut to the chase for her, which, she noticed, had caused the Maycombs to squirm as though the cushions in their chairs were stuffed with gravel.
“Well,” Charles said, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. “I’m sure Lily is fine at seeing to the child’s basic needs —keeping her fed and clean, that kind of thing.” He smiled self-righteously. “But as I’m sure some of the ladies in the room know, there’s a lot more to being a mother than that.”
“Oh, yes.” Ida looked at Mike in the same way Jocasta must have looked at Oedipus. “If you’ve not carried the child in your own body, you don’t know what it is to be a mother. Nobody knows children like a real mother does.”
That’s funny, Lily thought. You barely could have picked your daughter out of a lineup.
“Well, that’s certainly a sentiment you could needlepoint on a pillow,” Ben said. “But Mimi’s biological mother is no longer with us. Lily and I are just trying to create the best family for her that we can.”
“Well,” Charles said calmly, “we feel that Mimi needs to be in an environment where she can learn the difference between right and wrong—”
“Now you just hold on a minute here,” Big Ben interrupted. “You can ask anybody in Faulkner County, and they’ll tell you the McGillys is fine folks. We’re a decent, hardworking family, and Benny Jack here is a good boy. We never had a bit of trouble outta him, and I can’t say the same thing for his brothers. And Lily — she may not look like you’re used to girls
looking, but she’s a good, honest person.”
The word stung Lily, but she was touched by Big Ben’s impassioned defense.
“Look,” Mike said impatiently, “there are certain factors here you don’t understand. I don’t want to go into them because there are ladies present. Let’s just say that given these factors, we feel it would be in Mimi’s best interests to live with the remaining members of her biological family.”
“But Mike,” Lily interjected, “Ben is Mimi’s biological father.” So much for the honesty theory, she thought.
“Oh, I don’t believe that story for a minute. Mimi’s daddy was in some test tube at a sperm bank.” Mike’s bald spot flushed red, and a vein in his forehead bulged. “Just because you found some sissy to marry you, just because you put on a dress and shaved your legs, that doesn’t change what you are—”
“Calm down, son—” Charles interrupted.
Heedless, Mike ranted on. “And don’t think for a second we don’t know who you are, Lily... McGilly, as you call yourself. For whatever perverted purposes, you may claim to be a normal wife and mother, but deep down you’re still a godless, man-hating…”
A crash issued from upstairs as though a door had been ripped from its sockets. Something huge barreled down the stairs and soon was standing on its hind legs with its front paws positioned on the arms of Mike’s chair. A low growl issued from its black, curled-back lips.
“Mordecai!” Big Ben hollered. “Down, boy!”
The rottweiler didn’t budge. Mike’s face, so recently aflame with anger, was now frozen in terror.
“Mordecai!” Lily called. “Down, boy”
Mordecai wagged his stump of a tail at Lily and moved his bulk to rest in front of her and Mimi, creating a physical barrier between them and the Maycombs.
“Oh, I see how it is.” Mike rose from his chair. His plaid pants looked suspiciously damp to Lily. “You invite us down here so you can make a mockery of us. You sic your dog on us —”
“Now hold on a minute, buddy,” Big Ben interrupted. “We didn’t sic our dog on you. He was shut in the bedroom upstairs.”
