by Mary Monroe
Virgil had no idea that approximately two months later, he would revise his intentions again, and for the last time.
He would have no choice but to tell Maureen everything....
CHAPTER 19
TO MAKE UP FOR THE HONEYMOON THAT THEY DIDN’T GO ON WHEN they got married last year, Mel offered to take Maureen on a Caribbean cruise. However, since they had recently spent an entire weekend with Loretta at Disney World celebrating her eighteenth birthday, Maureen promptly declined. She told Mel that she would rather spend the money on some new kitchen appliances.
Maureen did not need any new kitchen appliances. The stove and refrigerator she had now were less than three years old. There was another reason why she didn’t want to go away with Mel on a romantic cruise and be holed up in a cabin with him for seven days. That reason made all the sense in the world to her. She felt that since she was going to spend the rest of her life with him now, she wanted to spend as little intimate time with him as possible. Now that she was married to Mel, she didn’t enjoy having sex with him as much as she did before. Now she only did it when he initiated it, and even then, there were times when she “had a headache” or pretended to be asleep when he approached her in bed. It was bad enough that she had settled for a man she didn’t love. Just dating him was one thing; marrying him was so final. In spite of all her reservations, Maureen promised herself that she would be a good wife and make the best out of the situation. She told herself that since they were both fairly young, she still had a lot of time ahead of her to enjoy sex with him again.
Maureen was so glad that Loretta was still in the home. With her barging into her bedroom whenever she felt like it, and often sitting between Maureen and Mel on the living room couch when they watched a TV program, Maureen didn’t have to worry about getting too affectionate with Mel that often. And she was glad about that. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to love him. She liked him, but she liked a lot of men. Since she had never been truly in love, she didn’t know exactly how love felt.
The fact that Mel’s touch sometimes made her skin crawl told her all she needed to know.
Not only did she feel guilty about her feelings, but also she had already begun to regret getting married. She told herself that as long as Loretta lived under the same roof with her, she would do her best to set a good example. What would her daughter think if she decided she didn’t want to live with Mel after all and divorced him? Especially since Loretta had become even more attached to him since the wedding.
Each morning when Maureen opened her eyes and looked at Mel sleeping next to her with his mouth hanging open like a goldfish, she asked herself, What in the world did I get myself into?
“How come you been workin’ fewer hours since you got married?” Catty asked Maureen one evening as they shared a bucket of hot wings in Maureen’s living room.
Maureen let out a long, heavy sigh. “Virgil keeps tellin’ me that I need to spend more time with Lo’retta. She sees more of Mel than she sees of me and Virgil thinks that’s unhealthy.”
“I’m glad you brought that up. I been meanin’ to tell you that same thing myself. I ain’t got no kids, so I don’t know firsthand, but young girls these days ain’t got no shame.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? My girl’s got good sense,” Maureen said defensively, reaching for her third hot wing.
“That’s true. And that’s the problem. Your girl is too smart and too pretty. But remember that time when Mama Ruby told you that a sword cuts both ways?”
Maureen stopped chewing and asked, “How did we get from you talkin’ about my work hours to double-edged swords?” She wondered where Catty was going with this conversation. “Now that you mention it, Virgil told me that, too, a few years ago.”
“See, a girl with good looks and brains can make a man do some strange shit. She can have him actin’ like a fool,” Catty stated. “You ought to know ’cause you seen me do it to Yellow Jack. Remember how I bamboozled him, wooing him into marryin’ me just so I could get me some weddin’ gifts and then I left him the day after we got married?”
“Woman, will you please stay on the subject of Lo’retta,” Maureen complained. “I already know your whole life history.”
“Anyway, Lo’retta is a gal with a lot of ambition. She wants to go places, hobnob with celebrities. Cruise around in limos and wear only the top designers’ frocks. She told me her goal is to be on the covers of all the top women’s magazines, especially the snooty white ones like Cosmopolitan and Vogue. She wants to strut her tail on them catwalks in Europe and shit. Every time she comes to my house, she goes through my Ebony magazines with the Fashion Fair pictures, talkin’ about how much prettier she is than most of the models they use. Ridin’ a high horse don’t even come close to describin’ Loretta. That girl is ridin’ on a giraffe’s neck.”
“What’s wrong with her wantin’ to make it big? At least she ain’t out in the streets runnin’ around with a gang or doin’ drugs.”
“Look, until you got married, you worked them long hours at that lobster factory, leavin’ Lo’retta on her own for hours on end. Too much time on a teenage girl’s hands is a recipe for trouble. Do you remember how much mess we used to get into when we had a lot of time to ourselves durin’ our teenage years?”
“Yeah, you and I used to sneak around and drink alcohol every chance we got. I even let Bobby Boatwright talk me out of my panties,” Maureen recalled with misty eyes. “Every generation is goin’ to do what they want to do no matter what people say or do. In my case, I had a mama the devil would run from, so I was very bold back then to do what I did, but I turned out all right.”
“Mo’reen, Mel is your husband, but I suspect that Loretta looks at him as just a convenience for her benefit. You told me yourself that when you told her you didn’t love him, it didn’t even faze her. All she cared about was havin’ a daddy, or so she claimed.”
“Yes, I did tell her that and I told him the same thing. I wanted to be honest with them both about the way I felt. I did want to get married at least once in my lifetime, and from the way my life was goin’, Mel was probably my last chance.”
“Harrumph! Lord knows that ain’t sayin’ much. Anyway, you missin’ my point about Lo’retta. My point is, I got a feelin’ she is cookin’ up a master plan. She’s goin’ to break Mel down. She is goin’ to milk him like a pregnant Guernsey cow. Once he helps her get rich and famous, she won’t have no more use for him. She’ll drop him like a bad habit—real quick.”
Maureen didn’t even try to hide her exasperation. “Now, you look here, Catty. Not only is Mel a good man, but he’s a smart man too. Do you think he’d let a teenager take advantage of him? The man is from Chicago. If the mean streets of Chicago didn’t break him down, nothin’ will.”
“Harrumph! You can think whatever you want, girl. If you ask me, I say Lo’retta is goin’ to pull somethin’ out of a trick bag and then all hell will break loose. I can already smell the brimstone.”
CHAPTER 20
“SO WHAT IF LO’RETTA IS USIN’ MEL?” MAUREEN HAD NEVER ASKED a guest to leave her residence before, but right now she was close to doing just that. However, she knew that it would do no good. Because whenever she saw Catty again, they would resume this conversation or one just as disturbing. Catty had arrived twenty minutes ago unannounced, but since she had come with a bucket of hot wings, Maureen had been happy to see her. “Everybody uses somebody in some way! People have used me and you, and we’ve used people from time to time. I could even say that Mel is usin’ me. By movin’ in with me, he’ll be gettin’ home-cooked meals every day and . . . and even sex whenever he wants it.”
“He didn’t have to marry you for that! He was already gettin’ all of that!” Catty yelled. “Put a little more rum in the drink you should have made for me by now.”
Maureen fixed two rum and Cokes and gave Catty the larger of the two glasses, which Catty snatched and immediately began to guzzle.
Catty shook her head. “Uh-uh. Let me finish.” She set her glass on the coffee table and gave Maureen a hot look. “I bet you wouldn’t have married Mel if Mama Ruby was still alive.”
Maureen took a drink from her glass and gave Catty a thoughtful look. “Him or anybody else,” she responded in a calmer voice.
Catty cocked her head to the side and smirked. “Truth be told, if Mama Ruby was still alive, she probably would have chastised Mel by now and buried him in her backyard like she done with that—”
Maureen held up her hand. “Please don’t go there right now. I know about all the people my mama chastised.”
“I hope you never forget. Nobody loved you the way your mama did. All she wanted was for you to be happy.”
“That is exactly what I want for my daughter,” Maureen said with a sniff. “What I want you to tell me is why you think my child is goin’ to start usin’ my husband?”
Catty reared back in her seat and gasped. “What do you mean ‘goin’ to start’? She done already crossed that bridge. I can see that with my eyes closed!” Catty hollered, giving Maureen an incredulous look. “Mel is a good photographer and he’s makin’ some good connections. That brother has been workin’ hard for years and pretty soon it’s goin’ to pay off. He knows how to bullshit the folks with all the modelin’ work so they’ll kiss his ass to work with him. He fits right in with that uppity crowd. He got everything it takes for that, even a nonthreatenin’ appearance.”
“What’s his appearance got to do with anything? He’s smart and he does good work.”
“Do you think them uppity Miami department stores and modelin’ folks—even the black ones—would have a damn thing to do with Mel if he was some ignorant-actin’ porch monkey with gold teeth and his hair in cornrows?”
Maureen gave Catty a disgusted look, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I am glad that not everybody thinks the way you do. Ugly people wouldn’t have a chance gettin’ jobs.”
“Speakin’ of jobs. There is a spot open at my work,” Catty announced. “I think you need a change.”
“I don’t want to work in nobody’s kitchen,” Maureen replied, shaking her head. “Especially not at that nursin’ home you work for. Fast Black told me all those old people eat is mush, grits, and baby food.”
“That’s a damn lie,” Catty snarled, tossing a chicken bone back into the bucket. “We cook steaks and bacon and eggs and everything else regular folks eat. Even chicken wings,” she added, reaching for another wing. “Yeah, we do have to mash up certain things for certain patients, but it ain’t that bad. Anyway, the openin’ I’m talkin’ about ain’t in the kitchen. It’s a nurse’s aide spot. You’d be assistin’ the nurses. It’s part-time, just three days a week, but a lot more money than what you make now at that dead-end-ass job at the lobster factory. They got a bunch of cute single orderlies and cooks workin’ there. I got me a hot date with this real sweet brother from Haiti this weekend. They hired him to be the head cook on the day shift.” Catty paused and a glazed look appeared on her face.
“Oh?” Maureen didn’t exactly love her current job and never had. Not only was it a ‘dead-end-ass job’ like Catty said, but it was also boring. It paid her bills, though, and would have to do until she decided to look for something else. Maybe now was a good time for her to do that. “Can you put in a good word for me, please?”
“They keep askin’ me and everybody else that works there if we know of anybody who would want the job. The last three women that came in to apply, they got hired on the spot.”
“Oh? If they can’t keep people in this position and are willin’ to hire somebody on the spot, there must be somethin’ real wrong with the job,” Maureen pointed out, giving Catty a concerned look.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with it.” Catty waved her hand dismissively. “The only thing wrong is they keep hirin’ the wrong people. You just might be the right person.”
Maureen blinked. “You could be right, but I was hopin’ to eventually do somethin’ glamorous, like bein’ a hostess in a fancy restaurant or a cocktail waitress in one of the upscale nightclubs where all the famous people and good-looking single men our age party at. The way things look right now, I’ll never meet Mr. Right.”
“Bah! Listen to you talk. You done gave up your chance of meetin’ a Mr. Right—or did you already forget about Mel?”
Maureen giggled. “Well, if I take this nursin’ home job and me and Mel don’t make it—like if he leaves me—maybe I can hook up with a cook like you did, huh?”
“I don’t see why not.” Catty nodded but then a troubled look slid across her face. “You know, it’s a damn shame when women like us have to look for our soul mates in a nursin’ home, ain’t it?”
“As long as that soul mate ain’t one of the patients.” Maureen sighed.
“You want me to talk to the folks tomorrow about you applyin’ for that job?”
“Yeah. Why not?” Maureen replied. “What do I have to lose?”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high about meetin’ no man there. There is too much competition. Half of the women on staff, married ones included, be eyeballin’ the few men that’s left.”
“Oh, I wasn’t serious about meetin’ another man. I’m goin’ to make my marriage work. Besides, for years I prayed to Jesus for Him to send me my soul mate, but because of my bad luck, even He couldn’t perform that miracle,” Maureen moaned.
“That’s still true today,” Catty agreed.
“Mel’s as close to a soul mate as I’m goin’ to get, I guess.”
Maureen had no idea just how wrong she was, but she would soon find out.
CHAPTER 21
CATTY GAVE MAUREEN THE NURSING HOME DIRECTOR’S NAME AND A telephone number to call her up to set up an interview.
Two days later, while on her lunch break at the lobster factory, Maureen went to the pay phone in the employee break room and called up the nursing home director. It was the strangest telephone conversation she had ever experienced in her life.
“When can you start?” Mrs. Larsen asked immediately after Maureen had identified herself and the reason for the call. “Catty has already told me so much about you and what a hard-working, dedicated, and capable girl you are! I can’t wait to put you on the payroll.”
“Huh? You mean I got the job?” Maureen asked with an amused look on her face. Either the woman was kidding or she had Maureen confused with somebody else. “Don’t I have to do an interview first?”
“An interview? This is the interview, sugar,” the woman said quickly. “Didn’t I already say that?”
“Uh, no, ma’am, you didn’t.”
“Well, it is.”
“Okay, but what about the application, ma’am? Shouldn’t I fill that out first?”
“You can do that when you get here. We are so shorthanded, we need somebody in here right away. This place is like a madhouse. Now, Catty has told me all I need to know about you, and Catty is a straight-up Christian girl, so I know I can go by anything she tells me. When can you start? Today? Tomorrow?”
“Uh, I’m still employed and I can’t just up and walk off this job today and start workin’ for you tomorrow, ma’am,” Maureen said. For one thing, Maureen didn’t want this prospective new employer, or any new employer for that matter, to think she was the kind of woman who would leave one job for another at the drop of a hat. Dependable workers didn’t do that.
“Oh. I was under the impression that you really needed this job and were already available,” Mrs. Larsen said, obviously disappointed. “I can hold the position open until week after next. If you can’t start before then, when can you start?”
Maureen could hear the desperation in the woman’s voice, but she wasn’t going to let that bother her. She had worked with white women before, so she knew how melodramatic and hysterical th
ey could be sometimes. “I don’t know right now,” Maureen said.
“I need to know for sure by close of business tomorrow. The other girl left without notice, and now Rhonda Sue, she’s the girl who works the other four days in the week, has had to do double duty, and that’s not easy for a girl in her sixties. So if we don’t get her some help soon, she might end up a patient here herself.”
“All right. I am pretty sure I can start on Monday.” Maureen paused and tried to gather her thoughts. This was happening too fast for her. She didn’t feel comfortable committing to a new job without even knowing what she would be required to do. “First I need to know exactly what it is that will I be doin’? I don’t know much about what goes on in a nursin’ home. Workwise, I mean. Would I be kept busy enough so I won’t get bored?”
“Bored? Honey, the only people who have time to get bored around here are the dead ones—the patients, I mean. Speaking of dead folks, you wouldn’t have a problem dealing with the dearly departed, I hope. This is a nursing home, so the death rate around here is pretty high.” Mrs. Larsen paused but not long enough for Maureen to respond. “You’ll be performing all kinds of interesting duties, honey child!”
“Like what?” Maureen hoped she didn’t sound like she really wasn’t that interested. She was interested. But she was more interested in knowing why this woman was willing to hire her so quickly and without checking references, work history, attendance record, or anything else. For all this woman knew, Maureen could have a lengthy criminal record or even be some kind of maniac on the loose.
“Listen up, now. You’ll need a pair of white shoes, like the ones nurses and women who work in school cafeterias wear. We’ll supply two sets of scrubs, but you’ll have to pay for additional sets. Once you get here and we get you settled and on the payroll, we will have you go through the required CPR training. Then we’ll bring you up to speed on a few light nursing procedures, like dressing a minor wound or monitoring a scab or a bedsore. You don’t have any serious allergies, do you? Do you catch things easily?”
