Mama (22 page)

"You thought about what you want to be yet?" Mildred had asked her the last time she was there. "I mean, shit, you pushing twenty-four and you should know by now, don't you thank?"

"Well, I'm considering sociology. I can't save the world, but I want to make a difference somehow. You've read some of my poetry, haven't you, Mama?"

"Yeah, and it's beautiful, baby. I show it to everybody," Mildred said. "I got all of it in a big brown envelope up in the closet with the rest of my important papers."

"I can't make a living being a poet, though. Did I tell you I wrote an editorial for our campus newspaper?"

"A what?"

"An editorial. That's an article where you give your opinion about something. I enjoy writing. Helps me get things off my chest. Who knows, maybe I'll go into journalism. I don't know. I have to decide by next semester, though."

"Yeah, well, you better step on it, sister. You ain't exactly got the rest of your life to find no husband. You be thirty before you know it, and I didn't exactly see men swarming around your place last time I was up there."

"Mama, I've got plenty of time to find a husband."

"Yeah, well I'm gon' be waiting for the day when you brang somebody home to meet me."

On this trip, that's exactly what Freda had done. Mildred had heard all about this Delbert over the phone. His name was usually the first word out of Freda's mouth.

"That's kind of a country name for a city boy, ain't it?" Mildred had asked. "Is his teeth white and straight? What kind of hair he got? Don't be bringing me home no nappy-headed grandbabies. I couldn't stand it. I hope he ain't got no skinny legs, neither. Just what we need in this family. Bones. And I know he got to be at least six feet tall and black as night, ain't he?"

Mildred knew her daughter all right. Delbert was tall and thin. His skin was Hershey brown and every feature on his face was so distinct and separate that at first Freda didn't think he was all that handsome. But with Delbert, Freda had discovered complete ecstasy: multiple orgasms. And after that first time, Delbert started looking better and better to her. As time went by, Freda thought he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life. He told her he was a photographer and was studying film, but Delbert didn't tell her he was an epileptic. When she found out, it didn't change her feelings toward him. Freda thought he had charisma. And then there was that red Porsche he drove, and the control he exercised when he shifted gears, doing 80 mph around curves, and those leather gloves he slid on his long fingers, and the way he looked at her with those sad raccoon eyes. Freda found him irresistible.

Delbert thought Freda was beautiful, sexy, smart, and luscious, and he was madly in love with her. He felt lucky to have found her. Even though she went to an uppity school, she still knew how to have a good time. As a matter of fact, all they did was have a good time. Delbert had introduced Freda to cocaine and she had taken quite a liking to it. She was always full of pep and energy, and when he said, "Let's go..." she already had her hand on the doorknob. They spent most of their waking hours in bed, staying up until daybreak, doing lines, sipping gold tequila, playing backgammon, and making serious love.

Mildred couldn't stand him the minute she saw him. She tried not to show it, but it was obvious. At first, she ignored him, which made Delbert so uncomfortable that he could hardly finish the breakfast she'd cooked for him and Freda the first morning.

"You look like you could stand to put on a few pounds," she'd finally said to him.

"It doesn't seem to matter how much I eat, Miz Peacock, I've been the same size since I was in high school."

Mildred just looked at him, as if to say, "You must thank I'm some kind of fool or something." She knew the boy used drugs, anybody could see that. She just hoped Freda wasn't that stupid or so easily influenced. Mildred continued making small talk with him, but Delbert knew he wasn't making such a big hit. When he offered to clear the table, Mildred told him not to worry about it and to go on about his business since he wasn't going to the graduation.

"Bye, sweetie," he said to Freda, giving her a slow, wet kiss. Mildred swallowed hard. She felt as though she was getting ready to gag. As soon as they heard him pull out of the driveway, Mildred had poured herself another drink and sat down so Freda could pluck her eyebrows.

"He must be fucking your brains out, ain't he? I can tell he a freak. He look like a freak. That's what your problem is. That's what Bootsey's problem was, too. Get a taste of some good dick and go crazy. Thank it's the only action in town. Well, take it from your mama, there's always something better out there if you keep your eyes open for it. And this thang you done brought home, looking like a fresh-born colt. He's downright homely. Tell me something. You couldn't do no better than this?" Mildred turned to Angel and Doll for support. Angel was blowing her fingernails dry, and Doll was busy teasing her hair.

"I wouldn't say he was homely, Mama. But why don't you ease up before you hurt Freda's feelings? After all, it's
her
boyfriend. So be cool," Angel said.

"At least he drives a tough car," Doll interjected. She was hung up on this type of thing.

"Mama, I've never said anything about those poor excuses for men you married, have I? I like Delbert. As a matter of fact, I love him, and most likely I'm going to marry him, so
you
might as well get used to him."

"Yeah, you like him all right," Mildred said. Then she started laughing. "I ain't never believed that something was better than nothing, but I guess I can learn to like the little monkey. He better not mistreat you. That's all I gotta say about it. If he ever do one single thang to hurt you, you pick up that phone and call me. And I swear, I'll blow his brains to kingdom come. Pour me a drank."

Mildred was rather anxious about Freda bringing home a man for her approval for the first time, and her other daughter graduating, all in the same day. But it wasn't just all the excitement that was taunting her. It was Money. She didn't want to spoil everything by telling the girls he was back in prison, doing one to three years for parole violation. And from the time Mildred had gotten up this morning, every fifteen minutes or so she had been filling her jelly jar with VO.

She cried so hard during the graduation ceremony that her makeup ran even though Freda had made her wipe off a layer because she had overdone it. When they got home, Mildred rushed around the kitchen, heating up all the food she'd spent half the night cooking. Sweet-potato pies, black-eyed peas, collard and mustard greens, fried chicken, even a pot of chitterlings, which nobody was going to eat but her. None of the kids ate pork any more, not after what Freda had told them about pigs.

Freda had invited all of her friends out; Delbert had come back buzzing on coke and couldn't stay in one place but a few seconds; Angel's boyfriend, Willie, sat in a chair, looking totally out of place because he wouldn't take off his gangster hat and he was being as unsociable as always; and Doll had brought her latest boyfriend, Richard, whom she'd been going out with for the past few months. He was darker than Delbert, but Mildred liked him. He had straight white teeth, jet-black wavy hair, good manners, and he went to church every Sunday. Mildred prayed that Freda wouldn't end up marrying that creature from the black lagoon. Freda deserved better. In one regard, Mildred was glad that Angel was following her big sister's footsteps. She'd been accepted at UCLA.

Everybody was having a good time, swimming, dancing half-naked in bathing suits, smoking reefers and drinking wine, and the music was blasting so loud you could hardly hear the person sitting across from you. Mildred sat on the patio, sipping more VO. She couldn't take her eyes off her three daughters. She just sat there grinning until the whole scene started getting to her.

She slipped away from the crowd, after asking Freda to keep an eye on the ribs that were sizzling on the hibachi. She walked inside the house to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Mildred looked in the mirror. She couldn't understand why she felt sad. Her eyes were glassy. Then she spotted a gray hair so she yanked it out. "Two babies left," she said to her blurry image, "and I started out with five. Shit."

Mildred had forgotten all about that typing class she was supposed to start and took a job instead at a makeshift factory where they made household appliances. Stoves and refrigerators, washers and dryers—all kinds of things. She was hired as an inspector. Her job was to check every part to see that it was attached properly and soldered according to the picture that sat next to her arm. And since she was entitled to a twenty-five-percent discount, Mildred bought herself a brand new range. She also took advantage of the friendship of her boss, Big Jim. She had gathered he was attracted to black women by the way he went out of his way for her. Sometimes he bought Mildred lunch or coffee and doughnuts and let her stretch her breaks. He was always offering her a ride home.

Big Jim was six foot six and not what you'd call fat, but he was huge. Looked like a bigger-than-life version of Wayne Newton, mustache and all. Angel and Doll had never given him much thought until he gave Mildred a ride home one day and she invited him in. They were both suspicious when Mildred introduced Big Jim as her friend instead of her boss. At first they thought he had come to fix something around the house, which was somewhat true, but it wasn't any of the appliances. Big Jim didn't stay long, only long enough to slip Mildred a hundred-dollar bill to help her with whatever it was she had told him she needed help with. She walked him to his car and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, which influenced him enough to say that if she ever needed anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. Angel and Doll couldn't believe that Mildred had gotten this hard up.

"Mama, I know you aren't crazy, are you?" asked Angel.

"Crazy, how?"

"That man is white! What do you think Freda's gon' say about this? You know how she feels about white women and black men, what you think she's gon' say about her own mama messing around with a white man? You're disgusting sometimes, you know that?"

"You can watch your mouth. I don't care what Freda thank. I let her go on about her business with that paraplegic she so in love with, and do I say anythang? No. And who the hell is she? Big Jim is nice, and I'll tell you something. Color don't make no difference. That's what's wrong with this world now. Everybody too damn color-conscious. And if it weren't for him, y'all would be standing here in the dark today, so just shut up and pour me a drank."

Big Jim paid for Angel and Doll's first trip back to Point Haven. They liked him now, and had had a sudden revelation. Just because he was white didn't mean he wasn't human. He talked just like any other man. He acted like any other man. He even had a sense of humor and he had one thing that none of Mildred's other men had ever had in the past: lots and lots of money. And he was generous with it. Big Jim gave them each fifty dollars for spending money.

"Shit, if she wants to go out with a white man, that's her business," Doll had said to Angel, as they were about to land in Detroit. "Who knows, we could end up with one ourselves. You never know."

"Speak for yourself. I wouldn't even consider going out with a white man. Just the thought of kissing one gives me the heebie-jeebies. Skip the subject, would you?"

They stayed with Bootsey, naturally, and felt quite at home despite the fact that her two little boys didn't give them a moment's peace. And Bootsey had turned into a regular little Susie Homemaker. She was working ten hours a day at Ford's but was managing home, work, and family quite well. She made sure she let her sisters know right off the bat that she didn't have any misgivings about getting married, staying in Point Haven, and not going to college. "I like doing just what I'm doing and the way I'm doing it," she said. And Bootsey went out of her way to prove it. She cooked them elaborate meals, meals she had finally learned how to prepare accurately, and Doll and Angel could've sworn they were eating Mildred's cooking. Bootsey's house was decorated like a picture in a magazine. All she talked about was buying furniture and crystal and a chandelier and carpet for the home they were going to build. Angel and Doll couldn't contain themselves.

"Are you for real, girl? The way you talking, you sound like some old woman. You only twenty-one. Damn," Doll said. "What about having a good time, partying sometimes?" But just looking at Bootsey told Doll that she had bypassed all that.

"Age don't make a bit of difference; it's all a state of mind. I'm a married woman with two kids and I love it. And I like the idea of making my home as pretty and as comfortable as possible. Y'all know I always liked to cook." Angel and Doll started laughing.

"Yes, how can we forget that you liked to cook," Angel reminded her. "You've gotten a helluva lot better, thank God."

Bootsey continued rambling. "And I love decorating, and wait till you see this French provincial couch I'm getting. It's so, so plush."

Angel and Doll shook their heads. This wasn't even worth debating.

Bootsey drove them out to Fortieth Street to see her land. Doll and Angel hadn't been on a dirt road since they had left Point Haven, but they didn't feel any bump, sitting in the soft cushions of Bootsey's Seville. The property was right across the street from where their Uncle Jasper lived. He was now a preacher and had so many kids he had to keep adding rooms onto his house so he could have somewhere to put them. They didn't want to go see him, because he'd never been very friendly, and they knew he was going to make them go to church before they left. While they sat in the car, Bootsey described in the utmost detail what her house was going to look like, but the girls couldn't picture anything so lavish sitting in the center of this green and gold field.

They visited Curly Mae, who had had a stroke. She looked like a different person. The right side of her jaw was caved in, and when she talked, it sounded as if her gums were full of Novocain. She couldn't even move one side of her body. The girls had chipped in and brought her a dozen yellow roses. Curly was tickled by their thoughtfulness, but wasn't able to say it.