God Ain't Blind (25 page)

“I understand and I respect you for bein’ so open about it. But Jade gettin’ married is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, I
hope.
And you’d be doin’ it for me, not Jade. I need you there.”

“Let me think about it,” I said. “Does this invitation include my husband?”

186

Mary Monroe

“Of course, it does! I am surprised that you would even fix your lips to ask me such a dumb question. Pee Wee is always welcome in my house. In fact, I want him at the weddin’ as much as I want you there. He and I have a long, wonderful history, and that’s somethin’ that I can’t ignore. But . . .” Rhoda’s sudden pause made my heart skip a beat.

“But what?”

“I’m goin’ to ask Louis to cater and serve. If you don’t have a problem bein’ around your honey and your husband at the same time, I don’t.”

“Oh. Now I really have to think about that. I played hooky from work today and spent part of it with Louis, and I don’t even know where that husband of mine is right now.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where Pee Wee is? He didn’t tell you he was goin’ fishin’?”

“Yes, he did. But that doesn’t mean that’s where he is. We haven’t been communicating that well lately. He could be anywhere and with anybody, for all I know.”

“Well, I know for a fact that he’s with Lizel’s husband, Clifford.

That hillbilly woman with the orange hair and crooked teeth who runs that bait shop out on Newburg Road told me that Pee Wee and Clifford stopped by there this mornin’ to get some bait and other fishin’ shit. I ran into her at the market a little while ago.”

“Oh. Maybe he really did go fishing this time,” I said with a smirk.

“Listen, I have to go, but we can talk tomorrow. I’ve got so many things to work out if I want this weddin’ to be a success. And, I’ve got to pick up Bully at the airport. He’ll be arrivin’ back from London in a couple of hours. Then I’ve got to take him and my husband to the mall to find them suitable suits to wear to the weddin’.

If I send them to the mall on their own, they’ll come steppin’ back here with plaid zoot suits and sombreros.”

“Your lover is going to attend the wedding, too?”

“He’d better be there.”

“What about your husband, Rhoda?”

“What about him?”

“Won’t he be present? He’s Jade’s daddy.”

“Of course, he’ll be there, too. I’m in the same boat you’re in, GOD AIN’ T BLIND

187

remember? Sometimes a husband is not enough to get us through.

Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” I responded, my voice dragging and dragging me along with it. “I do know what you mean,” I rolled my eyes.

And I did know. Having a husband was no longer enough for me.

The deeper I got into my relationship with Louis, the more I wondered just how deep I’d allow it to go.

C H A P T E R 3 8

It had rained during the night, and now the air had that damp, gloomy, musty smell to it. The sun was hiding behind dark clouds that looked like big balls of gray cotton. It was the kind of morning that would normally put me in a dark mood, but I was already in a dark mood and had been since my conversation with Rhoda the night before. But this darkness was more profound than usual. I could feel it creeping into everything. Even my soul. I was determined to rise above it, though. And I knew that with Louis’s help, I would.

As grumpy as my parents were, I missed them and my daughter already. They had called me up as soon as they’d made it to the Bahamas. I was confident that my mother would take good care of Charlotte. That didn’t stop me from worrying, though. But at the same time, I was glad that they were all away for the summer. I had more than enough on my plate to keep me busy.

I didn’t want to admit it, but right now, Louis was about the only thing that could put a smile on my face. I knew that when I discussed Jade’s upcoming wedding with him and whether or not I would go, I’d feel better about it.

In the old days, meaning my fat days, I used to get up every single morning and fix a breakfast fit for a Bigfoot family. That feast usually included coffee, milk,
and
juice; eggs, toast,
and
biscuits; GOD AIN’ T BLIND

189

bacon, sausage,
and
ham; dollops of jelly; and mounds of butter big enough to choke a mule. I still enjoyed an occasional down-home breakfast. But nowadays a couple of cups of black coffee and one slice of melba toast were enough breakfast for me.

I had eaten only half of my slice of toast and was halfway through my second cup of coffee when Pee Wee returned from his alleged overnight fishing trip. Since pussy and fish smelled so much alike, I wouldn’t have been able to tell which one he had spent the night with. It was just a few minutes before I had to leave for work that Tuesday morning. He shuffled in through the kitchen door, with a bucket full of assorted fish, but that didn’t mean anything. He could have paid his woman a brief visit and still gone fishing. She could have even gone with him, like I used to. Some women would do anything to be with their man.

He had not shaved the area around his goatee since I’d last seen him. One thing I could say about my husband was that he was one of the few men I knew who looked good with stubble on his face. It brought back some fond memories. I was glad to see him, but that feeling didn’t last long. His khaki jacket and matching pants were so filthy and wrinkled, he looked like a mountain man. He smelled like one, too. He dropped his fishing pole and bait bucket onto the counter, next to the microwave oven. Then he dumped the fish, most of them still flipping and flopping, into the sink. I didn’t know what kind of fish he had caught, but those critters had my kitchen smelling like a whore’s moneymaker after a busy night.

“Hi, baby,” he mumbled dryly, barely moving his dried, cracked lips. “Ain’t you kind of overdressed for work?”

“This is a skirt and blouse,” I told him. I had on a sleeveless white cotton blouse and a denim skirt. It was one of the most conserva-tive ensembles I owned.

Of all the people in my life, my husband was the only one who didn’t seem all that impressed with my weight loss. As a matter of fact, it used to amuse him when people mistook me for his mama if I wore one of my outlandish muumuus when I went out with him. He didn’t even notice anything different about my appearance until I had lost the first fifty pounds. And even then he thought that I’d only changed my hairdo. I had to tell him that I’d lost a substantial amount of weight.

190

Mary Monroe

A thought crossed my mind that I dismissed immediately: maybe Pee Wee had lost interest in me because of my weight loss! I refused to give that possibility too much consideration right now.

But if it was true, I knew my marriage was in serious trouble. I had no desire to spend the second part of my life trapped in a mountain of blubber—even if it meant he’d never make love to me again.

Pee Wee washed his hands in the sink and dried them on a paper towel. “Is everything all right, Annette?” He glanced at the black pumps on my feet. I knew he didn’t like them, and had it been up to him, I’d still be sliding around in a pair of flat moc-casins or flip-flops.

“I guess it is,” I muttered, barely looking in his direction. Without giving it much thought, I uncrossed my legs and hid them under the table as much as I could. But then he concentrated on my face and hair.

“And ain’t you got on too much makeup just for work? Y’all havin’ a staff meetin’ at the Red Rose bar today or what?” He stood in front of me, with his arms folded like a prison guard.

“You think I have on too much makeup? All I have on is some lipstick and mascara,” I pointed out.

“You look like you got on more makeup than Ronald McDonald to me,” he insisted, his eyes landing on my hair. “And what’s up with them girly braids? You ain’t no teenager. You old enough to be somebody’s grandmother.”

“Well, I’m not somebody’s grandmother,” I snarled, patting my braids. They had loosened up since the incident with the bat in Louis’s apartment. I had already planned to make an appointment with my hairdresser as soon as I got to work. Not to have her remove my braids, but to have her retighten them. “And in case you haven’t noticed, there are a lot of women in Richland who are old enough to be
my
grandmother, and they’re still wearing braids!”

My husband was losing so many points with me, it was frightening.

I was beginning to wonder just how much more of him I could stand before I bounced a skillet off of his head. “And since Charlotte’s only ten, I won’t be anybody’s grandmother anytime soon!”

He threw his hands up and shook his head. “I ain’t talkin’ about them other old women wearin’ braids. They could walk down Main GOD AIN’ T BLIND

191

Street bald headed and naked, for all I care. I just thought that since you are so, uh, sophisticated these days, braids done got too ghetto for you.”

“I don’t agree with anything you’ve just said. You’re talking crazy,”

I said firmly, patting the side of my head. I didn’t want to remind him that when the world-famous actress Cicely Tyson wore her hair in the same style, he’d raved about it.

“Well, it’s your hair,” he remarked with a shrug. “You can do what you want to do with it, I guess. I just hope I don’t come home one day and see you settin’ up in here with no blond dreadlocks hangin’ off your head. Not unless it’s Halloween.”

I ignored his last comment and took another sip from my cup.

The stench coming from the sink was unholy. The fish were splashing around like toddlers in a wading pool. Water was all over the counter and on the floor. Had things been normal, I would have complained, sopped up the water with a mop and a towel, and sprayed some room deodorizer. But this time I just sniffed, sneezed, and rubbed my nose. I did get up and open the window above the sink, though. Since he’d made the mess on the counter and the floor, I’d leave it for him to clean up.

“By the way, we’ve been invited to attend Jade’s wedding in two weeks,” I announced, returning to my seat at the table.

Pee Wee was leaning over the sink, but he whirled around so fast to face me, he almost fell to the floor. “Say what?”

“Jade is getting married in a couple of weeks, and Rhoda wants us to be at the wedding. Jade didn’t give Rhoda enough time to plan the big, fancy church wedding she always wanted, so it’ll be at Rhoda’s house. I’ll get your blue suit cleaned this weekend.”

“Listen to me. You ain’t got to worry about gettin’ my blue suit cleaned this weekend or no other weekend. I won’t need it—unless somebody dies, and I need to attend their funeral.”

“So you are not going to go?” I asked dumbly.

Pee Wee gave me an incredulous look. “Look, I wish the girl well, and I know that sometimes I sound a little harsh when we talk about her. But I do not want to be in the same room with that girl after what she did to us, you especially.”

“We have to move beyond that, Pee Wee. I’m having a hard time getting completely over what Jade did to me, but I’m trying, and 192

Mary Monroe

I’ve made some progress. Enough to agree to attend her wedding.

You have to move forward on this issue, too.”

“I have! And that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me bein’ around Jade if I don’t have to be. Especially to see her get married.”

“I totally understand. But just being in the audience won’t be that bad. We don’t even have to say anything to her. Other than to wish her well, I won’t say anything to her if I don’t have to.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied.

“If that’s the way you feel, I’ll let Rhoda and Otis know you won’t be attending the wedding.”

“You ain’t got to speak for me, Annette. I intend to call up Rhoda myself as soon as I take a bath and de-funk. I know Rhoda is your girl, but she was my girl first. She deserves to hear how I feel from my lips.” Pee Wee let out a mighty breath and turned on the water in the sink. He leaned his head into the sink and drank straight from the faucet, slurping like a dog. I waited until he had finished and stood back up.

“I’m glad you didn’t do that in front of your daughter,” I scolded.

He ignored my comment as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“By the way, what man is fool enough to marry Jade?” he asked with a grimace.

“That Mexican she brought home with her.”

Pee Wee shook his head and waved both hands in the air. “I haven’t met the dude, but when you see him, tell him he has my sympathy,” he said, shaking his head again. From the looks of all the bushy, knotty hair on my husband’s head, it was hard to believe that he was the most popular black barber in town.

“Is your decision final? Are you really not going to the wedding?” I asked.

Pee Wee looked at me like I’d asked him to do a ballet dance. “I doubt it very seriously. And after what she done to you, I am surprised that you would even think about goin’ yourself.”

“I’d be going for Rhoda,” I said.

He gave me the most aggressive wave of dismissal he’d ever given me. He did it with both hands. “Woman, if you go to that damn weddin’, that’s all the proof I need to know you done completely lost your mind,” he declared.

C H A P T E R 3 9

Pee Wee’s words had left me temporarily speechless. My mama’s suggestion that I “fix” whatever was wrong with my marriage echoed in my head like a veiled threat. How could I fix something when I didn’t even know what it was that needed to be fixed?

Just being in the room with the man I had vowed to love, honor, and obey until the day I died made me so uncomfortable, I could barely stand it. I was glad when the telephone rang. Had it been a wrong number, a telemarketer, or an obscene caller, I would have prolonged the conversation for as long as I could, just so I wouldn’t have to continue talking to Pee Wee. It was not one of those three; it was even better. It was my mother.

Muh’Dear was calling to let me know that they were having a wonderful time and that they had already enjoyed a whole day on somebody’s boat. “I had me three of them sweet drinks with them little umbrellas. I got so tipsy, I almost fell off that damn boat.”