Rich White Americans

by Virginia Dale

  I loosened Albert’s grip on my arm and ran to my little sister. I put my arm around her slender, young waist and hugged her. She resisted at first; then, she sagged into my arms. “Daddy, Daddy,” she whimpered like a hurt puppy.

  “It’s going to be all right, Kendra,” I told her, not the least bit convinced it would be, but what else could I say to my 15-year-old sister? One who had been Daddy’s favorite, ‘Daddy’s Little Helper’ as he had called her, and ‘Bright Eyes,’ because she could find his glasses when he lost them. “This isn’t going to be easy, but life will go on. You’ll go back to school and be with your friends. Mother can get a job, and Grandma can help out until things have settled.”

  “What about you?” she sniffed.

  “I’m going to graduate from Berkeley and… and marry Albert. We’ll help you, too. He’s a wonderful person and would give his right arm to help us. You’ll see. He’s my mainstay.”

  Kendra looked up at me in surprise.

  “You heard me,” I said. “Now try to buck up. You can handle this, although we may need some counselling. We’ll be all right!”

  Albert walked towards me with the whole family watching. He hugged me and my sister gently. He turned to face the others and said, “I know I’m not white, but I’m a full professor at Berkeley and I’ll take care of Inny and the rest of the family. I have nothing but love in my heart for you.”

  “You, you, you…” sputtered my mother.

  “Now, Iris, give him a chance!” said Grandma, wiping her eyes with a white handkerchief.

  My uncle stepped forward and shook Albert’s outstretched hand. “I got nothing against black folks, and if you’re a professor at that fancy university, you must have studied hard. I welcome you into our family.”

  Albert shook his hand and grinned his megawatt smile at Uncle Jimmy, Aunt Edna, Jimmie, and my mother, who looked down at the ground.

  “Mother, what about Andronicus? How could you?” I looked my mother in the eye. I wanted answers.

  She tried to push her way past me, but I grabbed her by the arm. “What were you thinking?”

  “You’ve always had everything!” she stared at me. “Boys, boys with rich fathers, like my own, running after you, taking you to nice places… I wanted to go to the San Ysidro Ranch. I wanted to live like a rich woman…” she started to cry. I put my arm around her.

  “It’s okay, Mother. It’s good to talk about it. You have to… We have to… We have to help each other.”

  She put her arm around my waist. She’d never done that before. We began to cry as she hugged me to her. I could feel her desperation like never before.

  “You and Kendra can live together while she finishes high school and college,” said my grandmother to my mother. I looked at my wizened, aged, and crippled grandma, squinting at us and leaning heavily on her plain black cane.

  “But Grandma needs even more help. Look at her! I want you to come live with us, Grandma,” came out of my mouth. It was true. She was crippled up, old, and alone. I loved her and wanted to take care of her.

  Grandma and I stared into each other’s eyes. She blinked hard into the bright sunlight which contrasted with this dark day. Then, she said, “I’d just be in the way, Inny honey.”

  “She’d be better off with us,” inserted my mother, taking control. I looked at my feet, realizing she was probably right, but I still wanted Grandma to stay with me.

  “You’ll never be in the way. I’ll take care of you and finish college. You’ll love Berkeley and my friends will love you. They always have.” This was true. Grandma nodded like a little hen, limping along. I kissed her on the cheek. Tears rolled down her crinkled face.

  She reached out and touched my cheek. “Inny honey, I think your mother needs my help right now, though I don’t want to be a burden on her. But, I can pay for all our expenses while she…” She looked into my face, unable to find the right words. I nodded my head. She was right.

  “You could sleep in my old bedroom there and help Mother until she’s on solid footing again. I’ll graduate and get a job so I can pitch in when I can.” I rubbed her gnarled hand.

  She squinted up at me from her shrunken size, now less than five feet tall, for age had done her no favors. She nodded her head. “I think it’s for the best, Honey,” she said. She rubbed my hand and I squeezed hers. Tears sprang from my eyes. Grandma never thought of herself. “I can rent my apartment in Florida and move out here. It’s for the best.”

  We started to walk away from the gravesite, linked arm in arm. A plaque bearing my father’s name was being placed on it with the flowers we’d brought. No one looked back to see. The thought of our beloved father dead and gone staggered our minds. It was hard to believe.

  Thoughts spun through my head. What about Grandma? I took a deep breath, resolute. I would shoulder the responsibilities and do my best to keep our family together. I knew it would be tough, because I was young and still had to graduate from Berkeley. Albert glanced at me from a distance. He smiled. I could count on him; we would pull through.

  He walked over and put his arm through her other arm. She smiled up at him. “My father is a doctor. He can help you with your limp.”

  “Glory be!” said Grandma, beaming at him.

  I felt happiness course through my veins.

  I reached up, hugging Albert with all my might. He kissed me, whispering, “I love you.”

  Grandma grinned, and a tear trickled down her cheek.