by Megan Alban
“No offense meant, Mrs. Williams. My cousin got me the introduction to the company that employs me. I just thought that’s what family and friends did.”
As Harry came back in with some more bottles, Celeste hastened to fill the silence. “Dad, did you think about starting your own business? Rayse was saying to me that good microbreweries and wine-making places are doing well. You would be starting off with a lot more experience than most people opening them.”
“I told him he should get hypnosis for his nerves,” said Pearl, moving one hand so she could take a small sausage roll.
Harry banged the bottles down on the table. “I reckon it’s time we talked about something else. How’s things going with you, Celeste? Got any plans for your future? Can’t see you being happy doing crafts for much longer, and can’t see how it pays the bills.”
Celeste’s face tightened with anger and then felt Rayse’s fingers entwine with hers. “I’m marrying Rayse, if he still wants me after you ignore our engagement and call him by the wrong name. I am a partner in a business and I am doing more than paying the bills.”
Monique glared at her parents from between her sister and Rayse and said defiantly, “I’m pregnant.” The words seemed to hang in the silence.
Before anyone guessed what was going to happen, Pearl stepped forward and slapped the girl hard.
Instantly, Rayse moved between them. “That’s assault. Don’t raise a hand to her again while I’m around because I will report you. Do you understand?”
Monique had started screaming between sobs. “I told you what they would be like. That’s why I didn’t want to come. You always think you know best about everything, Celeste, but you don’t. They don’t care about me at all!”
Harry inserted himself between Rayse and the furious Pearl. “Don’t you threaten my woman, white boy, or you’ll have me to deal with, even if I am older than you. Why, my girl couldn’t stay with a nice black boy I can’t figure out, but black and white don’t work. I’ve seen it and I know.”
Celeste had grabbed Rayse’s arm in case he wanted to take a swing at her dad, but watched in surprise as the anger drained out of his face, and humor replaced it.
“You think I’m funny, boy?” Harry bit out. “You think the risk my daughter wants to take for you is funny?”
“No, sir. I don’t. What I do think is that there are a lot of viable options for Monique. If we all sit down and hear what her ideas are, or what assistance she needs, maybe we could come up with something to help her achieve her goals.”
Pearl still scowled at Rayse. “I’ve had enough. How dare you speak to me like that in my own house? How I deal with my daughters is none of your business. You can get out, right now, mister! We got family stuff to sort out and you are not welcome.”
“First thing Pearl and me agree on in weeks. I’ll help you out.”
Celeste glared at her parents. “He goes, I go.”
“That’s okay by me, girl, I’m not begging you to stay.” Pearl’s arms were crossed with a vengeance now.
“If Celeste is leaving, I’m going too.” Monique declared, her chin thrust out.
“Hold on a moment,” Rayse said, hands raised to calm things down a bit. “Celeste, if you want to stay I’m okay with it. I understand how much family means to you. I’ll still be waiting for you.”
She was aware of the wetness in her eyes as she regarded her wonderful man. “You are my family too. If you’re not accepted, I’m not either. Let’s go.”
Somehow, Monique got to the front door before them, and had slipped out before Harry reached it.
The three of them stood on the sidewalk and exchanged glances. Rayse smiled down at Celeste. “Well, that went better than I expected. I think they are warming up to me.”
The girls’ laughter was somewhat hysterical, but they got into the car feeling a little happier than they had moments before.
Rayse, however, was thinking hard.
***
Celeste saw her parents come into the class and stand by the door. She felt her anger flushing her face with heat.
Pearl was in a skirt and jacket of black, with a silky oyster-colored tank top. Her handbag was tucked under her arm. Harry had his hands stuffed into his beige pants pockets and wore a checked shirt with an open collar, which suggested Pearl had a hand in his choice of clothing. He was looking around for a seat.
Celeste ignored them.
She focused on the people sitting at the worktables assiduously knitting. They were a mixed bunch.
Open windows made the sunny classroom feel light and airy.
She drew their attention. “Now, with these bust darts, don’t forget the fuller the figure you are knitting for, the more rows you need for the shaping. This means the deep dart required for a larger figure is made by knitting small groups of stitches, and you turn often. However, if you are removing only a little fullness for the slimmer figure, you make a shallow dart—you knit over a larger number of stitches, but turn less frequently. You all got that?”
Murmurs of assent and a few laughing comments answered her.
“You are all doing real good, and none of that sass from you, Jilly. I know where you live, girl.”
Laughter all round now, and Celeste felt her anger cooling.
“Now, you all understand what to do till the next class? Remember, if you get stuck don’t just forge on. Put that part away and start another section you’re sure you can do. If you are determined to give it a go, place a strand of contrasting wool through the row before you begin the bit you are less sure of. This way we know how far to unravel to, if necessary. Okay, my darlings?”
Within ten minutes, the room was quiet and Celeste started tidying up and pushing the chairs. She knew she wouldn’t need to wait long.
“I just can’t believe you’re wasting five years of higher schooling to do this. Such a terrible waste of time and money.” Pearl reiterated her pet peeve.
Celeste swung round. “My time and my money, so I guess what I do with it is my business. So what brings you here today?”
Harry hurriedly intervened. “It’s about Monique. Your ma and I think you should have her living with you. Not good for you to be alone, Celeste. You may be in your thirties, but you are still a good-looking woman, you need someone to make sure you are okay.”
She gaped at her father. “Dad, I hate to break it to you, again, but I got Rayse to guard my back. I love you both, but I’m marrying my man with or without your blessing. Monique needs to make her own choices—abort, give the baby up for adoption or keep the baby and get some help and schooling. In fact, you could help her get scholarships, or grants. And if you don’t have a job, you would be able to babysit while she goes to school or work. Heck, she could do an online university course and make money babysitting in your home.” She decided not to even mention she wouldn’t be thirty for two and a half months.
Harry was dumbfounded. “Don’t you tell me what to do, girl. I’m your father!”
Celeste glared at him. “Not so much fun when someone tells you how to live your life, is it?”
Pearl raised her voice. “There’s no reason why she can’t stay here. That’s what a spare room is for. And I can tell you she’s not going to keep the baby. She can’t even take care of herself! I booked an appointment for an abortion for her so there’s nothing more to discuss.”
Harry looked quickly at her. “Monique agreed to that?”
“Not yet, but she will. It’s the only sensible thing to do, and she has no right to expect others to carry the consequences of her dumb decisions.”
Celeste opened her mouth to rail at her mother, but Harry had turned to face his wife head on.
“Pearl Williams, you’ve turned into a hard and godless woman. I never thought that would happen. When you told me you were pregnant, there was no talk of abortions. We got married and did what we had to. I loved you; I wanted to marry you. I guess for you it was just a way to avoid the shame. Well, shame on you,
Pearl, that’s all. Shame on you!” He turned and stalked out of the classroom, his angry steps making hollow banging noises on the dock as he left.
Celeste gaped at her mother. “You had to get married?”
There were tears in her mother’s eyes as she whirled around. “He promised he would never tell, but that’s just typical. You did this. Are you happy now? Go off with your white boy and abandon your sister, for I’m telling you this, Celeste—if she doesn’t get an abortion, she’s not staying in my house. Getting pregnant destroyed my life, and I’m not going to watch it destroy hers.”
As her mother’s angry footsteps died away, Celeste longed to sink into a chair and howl. Some things needed to be done alone. She closed the doors, locked up, and climbed the stairs to her living quarters.
She passed through the kitchen, dining area, and the charming sitting room, to throw open her bedroom door. It slammed shut behind her, and at last, she threw herself onto the bed. She sobbed till she fell asleep, exhausted.
***
Rayse stood on the wooden dock looking at the houseboat. The windows reflected the warm golden glow of the early evening sunlight that bathed the whole marina, the river, the boats, and trees beyond. Everything seemed steeped in warmth and serenity. The birdsong from the wooded banks across the water sounded clearly. Even the lush, un-mown areas of grass glowed a tender green in the mottled sunlight. Apple trees, covered in blossoms, grew in a field beside the parking lot that served the marina.
Idyllic. He stood there, determined to get an answer today, but fearing what it might be. This wasn’t even about the ultra-important stuff, just the first steps. Loving outside your race sucked. He was not at all sure she would be up for it.
Stepping onto the dock, he made his way to the houseboat. He knew there would be no class starting. Mondays and Tuesdays were mostly the retirees and folks from the assisted-living housing that was close by. The elderly in towns don’t like going home in the dark.
The door was locked, which surprised him, but he pulled out the key Celeste had given him, so he could lock up when he was leaving.
He mounted the stairs and pushed open the door and was about to call Celeste when he saw her sitting at the kitchen table. Her eyes appeared swollen even from there, and as he strolled toward her, dropping the key on the small table along with his phone, he could see she was rumpled, tired, and unhappy.
He squatted down beside her chair and turned her face toward him. She tried to smile, and his heart ached for her.
“Family?”
She nodded.
“Monique here?”
She shook her head.
He took her hand and gently pulled her up. “Come on, let’s find a comfortable chair and you can sit on Papa’s knee and tell me all about it.”
She made no attempt to remonstrate, which showed him how washed-out she must be, and was soon curled up on his lap in one of the comfortable armchairs in the lounge. She laid her head against his shoulder and kept hold of his hand.
“Sweetheart, you are beginning to worry me. I thought it would take the Second Coming to take you down. What’s happened?”
“My mother is someone I don’t know,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “She says if Monique doesn’t get an abortion, she’s not living with them. She said if I don’t let her live here, I’m abandoning her and whatever happens to her will be my fault.”
Rayse waited—he was sure there was more.
“I found out they had to get married because of me. Mom said it destroyed her life.” She turned her head into his shoulder and began to sob. “They just aren’t ever going to accept that I love you. That I’m going to marry you. They are my family and this is just killing me.”
He had no desire to spout platitudes. He sat in silence, his arms around her, his finger stroking her cheek.
“Rayse? What are you thinking?”
He felt the dampness of her tears through his shirt. “I should have fallen hopelessly in love with an orphan,” he said teasingly. “But it might not be too late. There’s only two of them...not sure what to do about Monique though.”
Celeste gave a watery chuckle, and a small hiccup. “Oh, let me count the ways.”
Rayse was grateful she was able to respond to his small joke. “No, no, my love. Allow me, the pleasure would be all mine.”
Celeste sat up and gazed at him. “You are an amazing man, Rayse. You accept everything about me. You put up with my family, and you come back for more. I don’t deserve you.”
Rayse stared down into her eyes, whiskey and chocolate, so close to his. “I love you. I’d risk everything for you. Right now though, you’re very tired. Can I make you something to eat?”
Celeste shifted on his lap, exquisite torture, and sat up a bit. “Sweet pea, you’ve been working all day, you don’t need to cook for me.”
He drew her to him and tasted her warm, generous lips. “I suppose you just lay in bed all day eating chocolates and reading romances.”
After a few lingering moments, she pulled back. “Alright, I’ll let you help. Fact is, it’s mostly leftovers today, so not much for either of us to do.”
They moved quietly around the kitchen, a few words here and there as Rayse prepared the salad and opened some wine. He watched her covertly.
Soon the warmed-up chicken potpie was dished up, along with the other things, and they settled down with their meal.
She toyed with her food.
He asked if Monique was coming back tonight.
Celeste sighed. “I don’t know, honey, I guess she is.”
He put his cutlery down and put his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. “There is never the time or place to have the conversations we need to have, and I understand that, love. This is not that day. What I do need to be assured of is if you intend, not hope, but intend that that day shall come. In this half decade. No!” He held up a finger to stop her as she looked up, a flash in her eyes. “I wasn’t being facetious. I want children with you and five years is about as long as we can wait.”
His beautiful, curvy woman looked at him with those enormous eyes with their thick long lashes and opened her mouth, but no words came out.
His face stiffened. He asked, “Would I ever come first, Celeste? Not before our children if we ever had any, but before your family?”
She paused before saying, “Rayse, I love you. You must realize that? If I could just get them sorted out...” She sighed, her eyes imploring him. “They’re my family, Rayse.”
He rose from the table. He wouldn’t be able to eat another thing. “Yes, I get it, Celeste. It’s as clear as crystal.”
He stooped and kissed the top of her head.
“I need to go for a walk. Talk to you tomorrow.”
As he clattered down the stairs, he suspected she would cry when he was gone, but there was nothing he could do here. She was going to have to make some choices. Her choices. Not his.
***
Tuesday lunchtime was not the mall’s busiest time, but Celeste still needed to weave a little between the shoppers as she hurried to meet her mother at the food court. When Pearl called, she made it clear she had only half an hour for lunch and she had things to tell Celeste, so she wasn’t to be late.
The woman with the tight curls and the walker slowed her down for a moment, attempts to pass her being thwarted by the mother with the wide stroller with the runny-nosed twins. At last she got past and almost speed-walked to the large area cordoned-off by a half circle of brass railings enclosing the green tables and gray chairs of the dining area.
Spotting her mother, she waved. She grabbed the first sandwich she saw, along with a bottle of water, and having paid for them, joined her mother.
The area was sparsely peopled, but still very public. Pearl’s arms were crossed, resting on the table, her hand covering the small rose tattoo. The litter before her was mute evidence of a lunch hastily consumed.
Celeste glanced at the wrappers. “Couldn’t wa
it for me, Mom? I’m not late.”
“I don’t intend sitting here and being questioned by you about things that are none of your business. So I left only enough time to tell you the things you do need to know.”
Celeste stared at her. Her mother had always been the strict one, but she couldn’t remember her ever being like this. She opened her mouth, but Pearl continued with barely a pause.
“Your father and I are finished. He’s moved out. He’ll get his things later. I must rent out the bedrooms to be able to keep the house, so Monique can’t stay. You have a spare room. She said she’ll be moving her stuff out this week. Also you need to—”
“Wait!” Celeste burst out. “You and Dad broke up, for real?”
Pearl glanced at her wristwatch and began to gather her things. “I don’t remember you going deaf.”
Celeste felt herself flush. “I may not be going deaf, but I didn’t hear anyone ask me if she could live with me. I’m getting married, Mom, and being an unpaid babysitter for Monique is in your job description, not mine. You didn’t even ask.”
Pearl stood up, her hands full.
“Well, no one is forcing you to take her in. We’ve all got to learn from our mistakes, but I know you. If anything bad happens to her, you will never forgive yourself. As for me, miss, I’ve done my stint and I quit the job.”
Celeste could only gape as her mom turned and left.
She fumbled with her cell phone and called Rayse. No answer. Her dad never carried a phone. She punched in Sandra’s number and listened to it ring. She stared blankly at the device in her hand. Her world, the one she believed would always be there, was falling to pieces around her and she needed to reach out and talk to someone she could trust.
Her phone vibrated in her hand. It was Rayse. She swiped the screen and pressed the cell phone to her ear. Before she was able to say anything, Rayse spoke.
