Damsels in Distress (16 page)

“She apologized.”

“Ginger, you can't pacify, Celeste. She only apologized because you told her to.”

“Portia, Celeste knows doggone well that you and Tony don't have anything going on. She was just talkin' crazy. Please don't abandon the shower. I need you to come over here and help me decorate. The caterer is bringing the food at two o'clock.”

Portia didn't say a word.

“Okay, Portia. How about I save a huge slice of the cake and you smash it in Celeste's face? Would you like to do that?”

“Yep.”

Ginger hung up from Portia and dialed Anthony's cellular number. “Hey, bro. It's Ginger. I'm calling to check on you. I just talked to Celeste and she said you two had a rough morning.”

Anthony chuckled. “Rough, huh? That's putting it mildly, Ginger. I woke her up to take her medicine and she cussed me out. Then I made her a bowl of oatmeal. She told me it was too lumpy and she cussed me out for that. She went into the bathroom and saw the toilet seat up and cussed me out for that. So, I try to calm her down by massaging her neck, shoulders, and back. She tells me that rubbing on her was what got her pregnant in the first place so she cussed me out a fourth time.”

And Ginger thought she and Portia had it bad. “Oh, Tony. How do you manage?”

“I just keep telling myself this will all be over in three weeks.”

“Where are you now?” Ginger asked.

“I'm in River Oaks Mall. Celeste saw a platinum crucifix she liked at Macy's. So I'm here getting it for her. I'm gonna get it gift-wrapped then bring it over to your house. When she opens the gifts for the baby, I want her to open something just for her.”

Ginger was impressed. “Tony, you are one in a million. Who gets cursed out four times then buys a gift for the one who cursed them?”

Anthony laughed out loud. “Me.”

Dressed in stonewashed blue jeans and a light blue short-sleeve T-shirt with the words G
ODMOTHER-
T
O-
B
E
printed in bold black letters, Ginger looked out of her living room bay window. With only three weeks until the baby's arrival, Celeste had yet to decide who the precious bundle of joy's godmother would be. A week ago Ginger and Portia called Celeste on a three-way and put her on the spot to make a decision on which of the two of them would be graced with the title of godmother.

“The jury is still out on that,” Celeste responded.

With that being said Portia decided that she and Ginger should make the decision for Celeste and appoint themselves as godmothers. It was Ginger's idea that they both have custom T-shirts made and to wear them to the baby shower.

Ginger saw Anthony's shiny, freshly waxed silver limited edition Lincoln Navigator pull up to the curb in front of her house. “She's here, she's here,” she said excitedly.

About thirty-five of Celeste's closest friends and loved ones gathered in the living room to welcome her when she walked in the front door. Ginger opened the door just as Celeste and Anthony got to it. Ginger took one look at the expression on Celeste's face and knew right away that she didn't want to be there.

“Hi, mommy-to-be,” Ginger greeted her with a smile, trying to encourage Celeste to put on a happy face. “Come on in.”

The expecting couple stepped into the foyer. Celeste noticed Ginger's T-shirt and was about to comment when she heard shouts of, “Congratulations!” Immediately, cousins, friends, coworkers, and sisters in Christ of Celeste's rushed to hug her, kiss her cheek, or rub her big belly as they pulled her farther into the living room.

Celeste forced a fake grin and did her best to return her guests' greeting. “Hi, everybody.”

The last woman to greet Celeste was a surprise guest. “Chile, you look like a beluga whale.”

Celeste was stunned.
What the heck is she doing here?
Her forced, fake grin got wider. “Hello, Mother Harper. I didn't know you were in town.” Celeste glanced over her shoulder at Anthony. Her fake grin turned upside down and transformed into an angry sneer.

Anthony swallowed. He purposely didn't tell Celeste that his mother had been invited to the baby shower. Anthony knew that his mother was a thorn in Celeste's side. Overbearing, overprotective, and over the top, Eugenia Harper was a force to be reckoned with. She and Celeste were like oil and water. The two didn't blend well at all. It was said that a man sought a woman who resembled his mother. Anthony could honestly say that Celeste certainly reminded him of the lady who had given birth to him. They were both bossy, controlling, and confrontational. Truth be told the reason Eugenia and Celeste didn't get along was because they were two of a kind. Their mannerisms were identical. Whenever Eugenia visited she and Celeste were in constant battle over who was the leading lady in Anthony's life.

“Tony, you better remind your mother who your wife is. This is my house. She doesn't run anything around here,” was what Celeste had told Anthony during Eugenia's last visit. She and Celeste clashed when Celeste discovered that her entire kitchen had been rearranged.

Celeste had returned home, tired, achy, and sore after she, Ginger, and Portia participated in a five
-
mile run in support of breast cancer research. Celeste walked into her kitchen and opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator that stored the glasses.

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.

“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.

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.”