“Emmie,” she said.
I blinked and looked at her. She was holding her books against her breasts tightly, like someone anticipating an earthquake or something. I never noticed until that moment that she had cut her hair. I don’t know how many times I had warned her not to, not with a face as round and plump as hers. It made her look even fatter.
“Mistake,” I said.
“What?”
“Your hair.”
“Oh. My mother thought I would look better.”
“Did she?” I looked away, leaving my words out there, drifting, looking for receptive ears.
“Are you all right?” she asked timidly.
I looked at her again for so long that anyone would think I didn’t recognize her and was trying to figure out who she was. I saw that it unnerved her. She looked back at the girls she was hanging with these days, grimaced, and then turned back to me.
“Huh?”
“Huh what?”
“How are you?”
“Why do you ask?” I said. I wasn’t in the mood to make anything easier for her or anyone else.
“I just thought . . . you’re sitting here alone and . . .”
I looked around the cafeteria. “I’m hardly alone.”
“You know what I mean. Look,” she said when I continued just to stare at her, “I know you’re going through a very bad time. I’ve tried to help you, offered to be with you. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you so angry at me. Maybe I don’t say the right things all the time, but I’m not trying to be mean to you or anything, and if you would . . .”
I was so unaware of my own reaction that I didn’t know for a moment why she had stopped talking. Now she was the one who was just staring. When the tears began to drop off my cheeks and chin, I finally realized that I was crying. As if I instinctively knew its significance, I glanced at the clock on the cafeteria wall. I would always remember this moment, exactly what time it had been. I stood up, scooped up my books, and walked out of the cafeteria.
Chastity didn’t call after me or follow. I had no idea where I was going, but when I made the turn and headed toward the main entrance of the school, I saw Roxy walking toward Dr. Sevenson’s office. She stopped when she saw me.
“M?”
She couldn’t believe I was there, either.
“Did Uncle Alain call the school or something?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move.
“Because we decided I would come here for you.”
I shook my head and backed away. “Go away,” I said.
“Don’t be difficult, M, not now.”
I kept shaking my head. I saw how much I was frightening her. She looked helpless.
“You need to come with me. Uncle Alain wants you to be with him. Mama was amazing. She had all her arrangements done behind our backs, all the phone numbers, all the people to contact. He’s at the house calling his sisters and—”
“I want to see Mama,” I said. “She wants me to visit her today, but I’m not waiting for the end of the school day. I hate the school day.”
“What? Aren’t you listening to me? Okay, okay,” she followed before I could speak. “Just come with me. Wait here a moment. I’ll tell them,” she said, and went into the office.
I was at the door when she came out, and without speaking, we headed for the front of the school, where she had a taxi waiting. The driver looked at me quickly and started away as soon as we had closed our doors. I saw the route we were taking. It was the way home.
“I want to go to the hospital,” I said.
“There’s no reason to go there now, M. She’s no longer in her room. You’ll see her afterward,” she said softly.
“But she has to be in her room. We were talking to her last night.”
“If you want to call it that,” Roxy said. “You certainly didn’t want her to be like she was much longer. It was horrible for her. It certainly wasn’t living.”
I was going to start shouting at her again. How dare she say such a terrible thing? Who did she think she was? Of course Mama was still in her room. She was waiting for me to visit after school. She wouldn’t die before I came to see her, would she? Stop saying that!
All of this came to mind, but I stopped myself before I voiced any of it. These were the thoughts of the young girl in me who wanted to scream at her, the young girl who had died with Mama, the one who believed in a world in which anything broken could be repaired, anything lost could be found, and anything wonderful could happen. Things that frightened her or made her unhappy could be driven away with a mother’s kiss or soft, soothing words. That young girl would not believe or accept such sadness and disappointment.
Instead, I continued to say nothing. We rode in silence, and when I got home, Uncle Alain greeted me with a tight, long hug. I held on to him as if I might sink through the floor if I didn’t. Finally, he kissed my cheek, and I released my hold on him.
“I spoke with your aunt Lucy and uncle Orman,” he said. “They’ll be here for the funeral. They want to take you back with them immediately afterward, Emmie. It makes the most sense.” He glanced at Roxy, who I was sure was nodding in agreement. “At least, until you’re old enough to be on your own. I owe it to your mother to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“It doesn’t look like I have much choice,” I said. “Whatever.”
He described the arrangements Mama had made for her own passing. I listened, but I didn’t really hear anything. I was suddenly very tired and felt as if everything inside me had collapsed or stopped working. Even my heart was on pause, my blood frozen in place. I said nothing about it, just that I was going up to my room to lie down. Roxy was leaving, and Uncle Alain returned to the phone to speak to our French relatives. I went up to my room and, no longer strong enough to cry, just fell asleep hugging myself.
Aunt Lucy arrived first. She and Uncle Orman were going to stay at the Plaza. He was coming the night before the funeral. She made a point of saying that it was all the time he could spare. Friends were calling all the next day. I spoke with Mama’s sisters in France, but they were not coming. Because of their own problems, it was just too difficult. I heard their excuses, their words of sympathy and sorrow, and thanked them.
From the moment she arrived, Aunt Lucy took over the wake arrangements at our house. I didn’t really care about any of that, and Uncle Alain looked relieved that he wouldn’t have to do anything. Other people volunteered to help, but he turned them over to Aunt Lucy.
Chastity visited by herself. She was crying, and I realized that she really did like my mother very much. Mama had always treated her well, and she had always felt comfortable at our house. I broke the news about my leaving. I told her I would be moving and attending a different school, which was in Washington, D.C. Despite how little we had been seeing each other, she looked devastated. We talked about her coming to visit. I told her that would be nice even though nothing in my future seemed important at this point.
Roxy called Uncle Alain, but she didn’t come by, and neither of us saw her until the day of Mama’s funeral. Aunt Lucy and Uncle Orman were at our house in the morning. He kissed me on the cheek, but his lips made the sound of a snapped rubber band.
“You’ve got to hold yourself together,” he advised—or ordered, I should say. “It’s what your parents expect of you,” he added, as if they would be standing right beside me.
Neither he nor Aunt Lucy spoke much about Roxy. Aunt Lucy wasn’t happy about what I had decided to wear, but I didn’t change. It was a dress Mama and I had bought together, so it had special meaning for me.
As the morning wore on, I saw how Papa was so different from Uncle Orman, despite them sharing the same military-style upbringing. There didn’t seem to be any softness under the layers of authority in Uncle Orman. He was a slightly taller man, with a firmer build and sharper, more sculptured features. He carried himself like a man who had been at many funerals. Dignity and poise were far more important than
any show of emotion. When it came to dealing with other people, Papa was softer, friendlier. Uncle Orman spent most of his time talking with Uncle Alain, but Uncle Alain didn’t look very happy about it. I overheard some of their conversation. It was more as if Uncle Orman was interrogating him.
I wanted to shout, “Don’t ask, don’t tell!” but just walked away from them after Uncle Alain and I shared a knowing look.
Finally, Roxy appeared, and for a moment, when my uncle and aunt looked at her, I thought there would be some nasty words exchanged. Roxy was wearing black, but she looked as if she was going to an elegant event, with her cape, jewelry, and matching black fur hat. Her face was as made-up as ever. I was sure Uncle Orman was expecting to see a young woman who had abused herself and been abused, looking mousy and frightened, certainly not someone who could be on the cover of Vogue. He seemed to bristle and harden like a threatened alley cat at the sight of her.
Aunt Lucy did not hide her displeasure. “Well, I would think we would all practice some restraint when it came to our cosmetics on a day like today,” she said.
“And so you have, Aunt Lucy,” Roxy said. “I’m proud of you.”
I thought Aunt Lucy would explode. Her whole face seemed to fill and balloon, and her shoulders rose as if some very strong man had put his hands under her arms and was lifting her off the ground.
“Let’s get a move on,” Uncle Orman commanded.
Our stretch limousine was parked and waiting outside to take us to the church. No one said another word until we arrived and took our places. Aunt Lucy made a thing of where each of us should sit. I thought she was putting on a good show for the mourners, proving that she was not only a concerned relative but also quite capable of taking control to make it all run well.
There weren’t as many people at Mama’s funeral. Many of Papa’s colleagues and their wives and husbands had already forgotten about us, and I imagined few wanted to be there. It was too much too soon. I didn’t blame them. I didn’t want to be there, either. The service went very smoothly. Mama was buried beside Papa, and when it was all over, we returned home, where Aunt Lucy and Uncle Orman took it on themselves to greet people and accept condolences. With him in his uniform, I was sure people thought they were at some official event.
Chastity and her parents were at the funeral. None of my other classmates attended. Chastity was obviously fascinated mostly by Roxy and introduced herself as my best friend. Roxy glanced at me and saw my small smirk.
“Your sister is even more beautiful close up,” Chastity whispered. I didn’t respond.
When people began to leave, Aunt Lucy came over to tell me when we would be leaving.
“Your uncle would like us to go early in the morning tomorrow. We’d like you to pack just two suitcases for now. Fold everything properly. Make sure you have enough underthings, and if you’re near a monthly you-know-what, pack what’s appropriate. Don’t bother bringing any makeup. There’s no makeup at all permitted in the school you’ll be attending, and your uncle detests young girls wearing a lot of makeup. Would you like me to help you choose what to bring?”
“No,” I said quickly—too quickly to please her, of course.
“Yes. Well, there’ll be plenty of time to return to get other things, proper things. You’ll be wearing a uniform at school now anyway, and I don’t expect you’ll be going to anything social for some time. We do have strict house rules when it comes to looking after your own things and putting things back where they belong.”
“Did you say school uniform?”
“School uniform,” she said, nodding. “Exactly. You will find many differences between the school you are now attending and where you will attend, differences for the better. Now, anticipating all of this, we’ve had your room prepared.”
“What do you mean, prepared?”
“Repainted. Carpeted. I thought a nice color like coffee would work. Your uncle agreed. I’ll warn you now, there’s no television in your room, and we will not be providing a separate phone, either. Your uncle doesn’t believe in that. We never did that for our children,” she added, and looked at Roxy. I hadn’t realized that she had stepped up beside me to hear Aunt Lucy’s short speech.
“Where are your children?” I asked.
“What?”
“Didn’t they hear about my mother?”
“Of course they heard, but they have full, busy lives. Now, you’ll need a physical before you can attend the school. We’ve arranged that for you, too. He’s actually a military doctor. Your appointment is the day after tomorrow. There’s no time to waste. You’ll have a lot to catch up on, I’m sure.”
She threw a cool smile at Roxy and returned to stand beside Uncle Orman.
I looked at Roxy. She was glaring at them both with lasers for eyes. “Forget about them,” she suddenly said.
“What?”
“You heard me. You can tell her later that you won’t be going to live with them after all.”
“I won’t?”
“No. You’ll be living with me,” she added, and went to speak with Uncle Alain.
I stood there stunned for a moment, and then, for the first time in days, I felt my face break into a smile.
When Aunt Lucy and Uncle Orman heard that I’d be living with Roxy, they were even more stunned than I had been. Roxy came up beside me when she saw that I was giving them the news.
“She’s old enough to be my legal guardian,” I added.
“Roxy? Someone’s guardian? Ridiculous,” Aunt Lucy said, looking at her. “She’s not capable of that, and besides, no court would permit it. Why, she could turn you into someone just like her, and then—”
“Let it be,” Uncle Orman suddenly said sharply. I had been anticipating his threats and anger.
“What?” Aunt Lucy asked him.
“You heard me. If this is what the girl wants, fine. Only know this,” he continued, giving me his officer’s firm glare. “You don’t come back to us if you discover you’ve made a mistake. We’re no second choice. Is that understood?”
“I can’t come back to you if I’ve never been with you in the first place, Uncle Orman.”
He said nothing for a moment and then came the closest to a smile. His lips merely creased, and his eyes widened slightly. “You’re just like your father, pigheaded,” he said.
“Thank you, Uncle Orman. That’s about the nicest compliment you, especially you, could give me.”
Roxy laughed.
Uncle Orman turned away. Aunt Lucy continued to stare, astounded, and then he called to her and told her to prepare to leave. She went directly to Uncle Alain with her complaints. When he heard what was happening, he looked at us with a slight smile, but he pretended to listen sympathetically to Aunt Lucy. He said nothing, and she turned away from him in a huff.
Finally, they were gone. We realized that everyone else was, too. The silence took all three of us by surprise, and for a few moments, no one spoke.
“Are you both sure about this?” Uncle Alain asked us.
“I am,” Roxy said, and she turned to me. “If she listens and obeys the rules.”
“What rules?”
“There’ll be rules,” she said. “Don’t think there won’t.”
“If you can live by them, I can.”
“They’re not rules for me. They’re rules for you.”
“What about this house? Are you going to live here?” Uncle Alain said.
“No, that won’t be possible,” Roxy said. “We’ll put it up for sale. The funds could provide her with college expenses. I have someone who can help us with everything, an attorney,” she added. “You don’t have to worry about any of that, Uncle Alain.”
“Très bon,” he said. “I’ll plan on returning to France soon, then.”
“You can go tomorrow, if you like,” Roxy said. “We’re not chasing you away, but we’ll be fine.”
“I think you just might be,” he said, smiling. She had said it with such firmness that I tho
ught we would be, too. “I’ll expect you both to come to Paris soon.”
“First chance we get,” Roxy promised. “Well, I’ve got some preparations to make. I’m going to have to live with a teenager.”
Uncle Alain laughed.
“You all right?” she asked me.
“Yes,” I said.
“You can bring more than two suitcases and whatever pathetic makeup you have,” she said.
We watched her leave, and then he and I both felt we needed to hug. Everything was happening so quickly now that I felt as if I had been shoved out of the space station and was floating helplessly. Soon he would be gone, too, and I’d have no one but Roxy to go to for advice.
And then there was the realization that I would be leaving my house. Even when I had been contemplating going to live with Uncle Orman and Aunt Lucy, I had not really understood that I would be walking out our front door forever and leaving behind all of the memories a warm, loving home could provide. For a moment, I stood in the living room, turning very slowly to absorb every little thing, from the figurines Mama had collected to every piece of furniture, every crease in every chair, especially Papa’s, and every picture on every wall.
Maybe Roxy would want some of this, I thought, but probably not. It wouldn’t fit into her world, and she wouldn’t be as fond of the memories. No, this eventually was going to be a permanent good-bye.
Mama had once told me of a similar experience when she had left her family home in France. She was excited about marrying Papa and coming to America, of course, but “it was as if another umbilical cord was being cut,” she told me. “A home is truly a lifeline, a place where you feel safe and secure, a place to run to when you’ve been hurt or frightened by something or someone. Everything in it is part of your family and so part of you. The aromas of the food my mother prepared. The smell of my father’s pipe tobacco, my sisters’ perfumes, my brother’s cologne, and the fresh scent in washed linens and towels. All of it lives inside you. It was a lot to leave behind,” she said, her voice drifting into almost a whisper. I could easily imagine the expression on her face when she had turned to look back, and I could feel her sadness.
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