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Damsels in Distress

Page 18

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols


  Celeste pointed to the items in the cabinets she had left opened. “Look what your mother did.”

  It took a moment for Anthony to understand what Celeste was talking about. He saw cereal, Tupperware bowls, plates, and spices. “What did she do?”

  Celeste’s eyes grew wide and she spoke through gritted teeth. “She rearranged my cabinets, Tony. She moved everything around.”

  Anthony didn’t see why Celeste was making a fuss. He shrugged his shoulders. “So what?”

  Celeste’s eyeballs grew wider. “So what? Did you just say so what?”

  “What’s going on in here?” Eugenia asked when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Celeste’s raised voiced had brought her from the guest bedroom.

  Celeste looked from her mother-in-law to Anthony. Celeste’s eyes told Anthony that he had better be the one to speak to his mother. If Celeste spoke, her words would be harsh.

  “Ma, why did you move everything around?”

  “Because boxes of cereal belong in the cabinet next to the refrigerator and not on top of the refrigerator. And spices should be kept either in a spice rack or the cabinet closest to the stove. Plates and glasses ought to be stored together in the same cabinet. It just makes more sense.”

  Celeste frowned. “To whom?”

  “You don’t like the new arrangement?” Eugenia asked Celeste.

  “No, I don’t. Your setup is inconvenient. I don’t want to have to walk almost to the back door to the cabinet for a glass then walk back to the refrigerator to pour myself something to drink. I like my glasses in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. And I grew up with cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator. That’s where I put them and that’s where I want them to stay.”

  Anthony didn’t want his mother to respond to Celeste. “Fine, I’ll move everything back to where you had it.”

  “Yeah, do that,” Celeste said on her way out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

  “Anthony, you need to tell your wife to stay in her place. I’m gonna always be your mother but you can very easily change wives.”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” Eugenia said.

  Celeste looked at her mother-in-law. “Mission accomplished. I am definitely surprised.”

  Eugenia enveloped Celeste in her overbearing arms. Celeste felt like gyro meat wrapped inside of pita bread. “How long are you staying in town?” Celeste rephrased the question she really wanted to ask her mother-in-law. She was more concerned about where she was staying.

  “That all depends on when my little grandson will make his debut. I ain’t in no hurry to get back to Raleigh.”

  Oh, my God, Celeste thought. She had one more week to go before she gave birth. Celeste knew that was more than enough time for Anthony’s mother to drive her completely insane.

  Once when Eugenia had visited Anthony and Celeste she had gone through Celeste’s dresser drawers and thrown out all of her dainty lace lingerie and panties. She told Celeste that she needed to purchase classy underwear. “Men don’t want their wives to come to bed dressed like whores,” she told Celeste.

  Celeste was so mad she didn’t know what to do. “Well, you obviously don’t know your son. He purchased all of my lingerie.”

  And in the kitchen, Celeste couldn’t do anything correctly.

  “You really should bake your chicken instead of frying it, Celeste. Why don’t you have any yogurt in your fridge? All I see is ice cream. Be careful of how much sugar you put in your pound cakes. Anthony is borderline diabetic. Girl, you put way too much bleach in Anthony’s boxers.”

  And when Celeste arrived home from work and saw that Eugenia had replaced her 3 Musketeers candy bars with granola bars she told Anthony that his mother had worn out her welcome. “It’s either me or your mother. One of us has got to go.”

  The next morning Eugenia was on an airplane headed back home to Raleigh. Celeste told Anthony that his mother was more than welcome to visit as long as she stayed in a hotel.

  With Celeste occupied with her guests, Ginger spoke to Anthony. “Getting her here was like pulling teeth, wasn’t it?”

  Anthony removed his black ski cap and rubbed his bald head. “I went ahead and shaved all the hair off my head since it was falling out anyway. Ginger, I won’t even tell you what I had to do just to get her out of bed and dressed. But I will say this: I am in complete agreement with Celeste about not having any more kids.”

  Ginger chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

  “One minute Celeste is hot and the next minute, she’s cold. This is January but last night she had the air conditioner going in the house. I was on the sofa with three quilts so it didn’t make me no never mind. This afternoon she decided to take a bath. After about thirty minutes or so I noticed that she was still in the tub. I knocked and asked if she was all right. She didn’t answer me but I heard sniffles through the door. I opened it and poked my head in and saw her sitting in the tub, crying.”

  “What was the matter with her?” Ginger asked.

  “I’m getting to that,” Anthony said. “I walked in the bathroom and knelt by tub. As Celeste wiped tears from her eyes, I saw that her fingers were white and wrinkled. I glanced at her toes and they were white and wrinkled too. I dipped my hand in the water and looked at Celeste like she was crazy. I asked her why she was sitting in cold water, crying. She said, ‘’Cause I can’t get out by myself. Why the blank you think I’m sitting in cold water?’” As Anthony spoke his neck danced just as Celeste’s had. He imitated her perfectly. He lowered his head and glared at Ginger. “You know she didn’t say ‘blank,’ don’t you?”

  Ginger laughed out loud and patted his back. “Tony, you have my sympathy, honey. I’m pretty sure that God will have an extra crown in glory for you. How did you get her out of the tub?”

  “Well, first she cussed me out because somehow or someway I’m supposed be a rocket scientist and know that she only takes fifteen-minute baths. And it shouldn’t take me a half hour to figure out that she’s stuck in the tub. Now, Ginger, on the inside my blood was boiling because, for the past eight and a half months, according to Celeste, I’ve been a cheap, good-for-nothing, inconsiderate, uncaring husband. But I forgave all of that verbal abuse and told Celeste that I was sorry. Then I had her loop her arm around my neck and I put my arm beneath her legs and lifted her out of the tub. I wrapped a big towel around her and saw that she was looking at me kind of funny. That’s when she told me that I have a unibrow and my nose was off center as a result of my parents being brother and sister.”

  Ginger didn’t mean to but she screamed out in laughter. “Ooh, Tony, no, she didn’t.”

  “Yeah, she really said that.”

  Ginger looked at the women making a fuss over Celeste. “Well, now you can get about three hours of freedom unless you wanna stay.”

  “You must be on crack, Ginger. I’m going home and getting in my king-sized bed and crashing.” He looked at all of the women doting on Celeste. “Where’s Portia?”

  “She’s in the kitchen with an attitude. She and Celeste got into it earlier.”

  Anthony raised his palms in the air. “Spare me the details. Don’t tell me about it, I don’t want to know.” Anthony had learned to leave Celeste’s spats with Ginger and Portia among the three of them.

  It seemed that every other day they were arguing about something. They had always referred to each other as best friends but Anthony thought the term “frenemies” would actually be a better fit. Anthony would describe the relationship that Celeste, Ginger, and Portia shared as a bipolar one. One day they couldn’t live without one another, being happy, going shopping, and exchanging cake recipes. Then the next day it was, “I can’t stand you,” “Lose my number, I’m done with you,” or “I can’t believe you did that.” Two or three days of that nonsense and they would be sitting inside a nail salon choosing nail polish colors for manicures and pedicures.

  Anthony went into the living room and greeted all of the guests, kissed Celeste’s cheek
and walked back to the front door where Ginger stood. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled a small gift-wrapped box from his shirt pocket and a card from his interior jacket pocket. “Give these to Celeste after she’s opened all of the baby’s gifts.”

  * * *

  Twenty minutes after Celeste’s arrival, Ginger noticed that Portia was nowhere to be seen. She walked into the kitchen and saw Portia sitting at the table, alone, feasting on barbecue chicken wings, meatballs, slices of honey-baked ham, spaghetti, potato salad, and chips.

  “Portia, in case you’ve forgotten, you and I are both hosting this baby shower. I can really use your help entertaining the women. Why are you eating in the kitchen?”

  “Because there’s no room in the living room.”

  “There’s plenty of room, Portia. You’re being antisocial on purpose.”

  Portia swallowed fruit punch from a light blue paper cup and belched loudly. “So what if I am?”

  Ginger looked at her in disgust. “First of all, unleashing your internal bodily air into the atmosphere was not only rude, ignorant, and uncalled for, it was also unladylike and not at all feminine. And I had hoped you would be the more mature one and let this petty thing between you and Celeste go.”

  Portia shrugged her shoulders and inserted a spoonful of potato salad in her mouth. “I have let it go, I’m fine.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, can you please get the bag of ice cubes out of the freezer and pour half of it in the punch bowl? After that please go and mingle with the guests.”

  Portia stood and threw her empty paper plate and cup into the trash can. She grabbed the bag of ice from the freezer and walked out of the kitchen. Just as Ginger was following Portia with a second pan of meatballs and spaghetti, the telephone on the wall rang. She set the pan on the counter top and answered the telephone. “Hello?”

  “You are so beautiful.”

  Ginger’s heart melted at the sound of his voice. She cooed, “Joseph.”

  “I miss you and I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

  Somehow he knew the right things to say to set Ginger’s inner core on fire. “Oh, honey. I miss you too.”

  “How’s the shower going?” he asked.

  She sighed loudly into the telephone.

  Joseph understood her pause. All week long Ginger had shared with him how stressed she was about planning the baby shower and she couldn’t wait until it was over and done with. “A lot of fun, huh?”

  “Well, Celeste arrived a few minutes ago. In spite of the fact that I have a living room full of women showering her with beautiful gifts for her baby, she seems determined to be in a foul mood. On the other hand Miss Portia is having a moment because Celeste said something to her that she shouldn’t have. So, I’m playing the hostess and the referee but you know how that goes. What are you up to?”

  “Just counting down the minutes ’til I can see you again.”

  “Joseph, you are so good for my ego, you know that?”

  “And you are so good for my life, Ginger. Do you know that?”

  “See, it’s when you say things like that that makes a sista wanna run down that center aisle quick, fast, and in a hurry. You better watch yourself.”

  “You don’t even have to run down the whole aisle. I will come meet you halfway. You better watch yourself.”

  At that moment, Ginger had an out-of-body experience. She saw the heavens open up and God’s ray of light shined down on her. “I wish I could clone you so that when one of you has to be away the other can be with me at all times.”

  “You better talk to Celeste because I’m getting ready to kill her!” Portia’s loud words were like a fire hose. They doused cold water on Ginger’s love chat with Joseph.

  Ginger glared at Portia in disbelief. “Did you hear that, Joseph?” she asked him. “The bell rang and round one has started. The referee has to step in the boxing ring.”

  Joseph chuckled. “Remind them that there’s no hitting below the belt.”

  Ginger ended the call with Joseph. “What happened?” she asked Portia.

  “I’m out there waiting on Celeste hand and foot.” Portia’s neck danced as she spoke. “She’s being a diva. She said she doesn’t want to drink fruit punch; she wants grape Kool-Aid. She claims that she remembered requesting that we add it to the menu. She refuses to drink the punch.”

  Ginger massaged her temples. A migraine headache was forming. “Jesus, just take me now, please.” She looked at Portia. “I don’t have grape Kool-Aid or any other flavor Kool-Aid. Celeste will have to drink the punch like everyone else. Her only other option is bottled water.”

  Portia leaned against the kitchen wall and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, you tell her then, ’cause if she snaps off at me one more time, it’s gonna be on and poppin’.”

  Ginger picked up the pan of spaghetti from the counter and gave it to Portia. “Just take this and set it on the dining room table. I’ll deal with Celeste.”

  Ginger grabbed a sixteen-ounce bottle of drinking water from the refrigerator. She walked into the living room and saw Celeste seated next to their pastor’s wife, Lady Elaine Harris. The two were chatting. Ginger sat on the opposite side of Celeste and leaned into her. She shoved the water bottle in Celeste’s hand and spoke in her ear. “I don’t have any grape Kool-Aid. Okay? This ain’t Burger King; you can’t have it your way. Either you drink the punch or the water because it’s all I have.” Without giving Celeste time to respond, Ginger stood and walked away.

  * * *

  Before Celeste had arrived Portia had given each of the women small baby blue plastic safety pins to be pinned on their blouses. Portia explained the first game to them all. Throughout the duration of the shower, if someone said the word “baby,” her safety pin would be confiscated by the woman who heard her say the word. The lady who collected the most safety pins, at the end of the shower, would win a prize. It was one hour into the shower and Portia noticed many safety pins missing from blouses.

  Portia was rearranging gifts on the gift table when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and was all set to greet the guest until she saw who stood before her.

  Latricia Hall gasped. “Oh, my God. Portia Dunn, is that you?” She stepped into the foyer and enveloped Portia. “It’s been like what, fifteen years?”

  Portia’s bladder leaked urine. She became chilled to the bone. She didn’t know if it was the cold January wind that blew inside or the mere fact that she had just come face to face with her married lover’s wife.

  Latricia released Portia and looked at her. “Girl, you still look the same,” she said with a smile.

  Portia’s heart raced. Her teeth chattered. “How are you doing, Latricia?”

  “I am great. It is so good to see you, girl.”

  Portia couldn’t look Latricia in her eyes. She looked beyond her, out the front door for something, anything to focus on. “Yeah, it’s been awhile. Come on in.”

  Latricia gave Portia the gift she’d brought. “This is for Celeste and the baby.”

  Portia took the gift-wrapped box from her. “Thank you. Give me your coat.”

  Latricia took off her coat and gave it to Portia then looked at her from head to toe. Portia wore skinny-leg blue jeans and a T-shirt that matched Ginger’s.

  “Awe, that’s so cute,” Latricia said about Portia’s shirt. Latricia admired her black thigh-high boots that laced up the front. She had no clue that Portia’s entire outfit, including the lingerie she wore beneath, had been funded from her own bank account. “You look fabulous, Portia. Still a fashionista with that Coke-bottle shape. You had all the boys in high school chasing after you. Remember that?”

  Portia shrugged her shoulders. “That was a long time ago.”

  Latricia looked at Portia’s ring finger. “You’re not married?”

  Portia wished she could have been anywhere else but where she was right then. The position she was in took being uncomfortable to another level. “Not yet.”
/>   Latricia’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Portia, I remember, during our senior year of high school, that you had the entire football team fighting over which one would be your husband after graduation.”

  Portia chuckled but only to humor Latricia. She didn’t have time for small talk. She wasn’t interested in walking down memory lane with Latricia. She wanted answers to questions like why Latricia was there, and why she wasn’t informed that Latricia had been invited.

  She hung Latricia’s coat in the closet in the foyer then set the gift she had brought on the table next to the front door. Portia pointed toward the living room where Celeste and her other guests were mingling. “Celeste is over by the fireplace.”

  Portia guided Latricia directly to Celeste and stood in front of her. “Look who’s here, Celeste.”

  Celeste’s eyes grew wide when she saw Latricia. She paused a few moments before she stood from her chair and hugged her. “Hi, Latricia. I’m glad you could make it.”

  Latricia returned Celeste’s hug. “I was so excited when I got your invitation in the mail. I thought you may have forgotten about me from when I saw you at the bank a few months ago.”

  Portia frowned and glared at Celeste. A few months ago? If looks could kill, Celeste would have been six feet under right then. She wondered why Celeste never mentioned that she had run into Latricia. Portia hastily walked away from them and went to search for Ginger. She found her in her bedroom slipping into a more comfortable pair of shoes.

  Portia walked in and slammed the door shut.

  The loud noise startled Ginger. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Portia folded her arms across her chest. “You will never guess, in a million years, who is out there talking to Celeste.”

  Ginger saw her folded arms rise and fall with every breath she took. “Considering the fact that I don’t have a million years, why don’t you just tell me and save us both a lot of time.”

  “Come here,” Portia demanded. She opened Ginger’s bedroom door a bit and pointed Latricia out. “You see that woman talking to Celeste? Do you know who that is?”

 

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