Mama (35 page)

"I hear you, Mama."

"You got plans for tonight?"

"Yeah, I got a hot date with the TV."

"Let's get all dolled up and go out."

"To the Shingle?"

"I'll treat you to a nice dinner downtown first and then we can make our entrance at the Shingle. What you say to that?"

"I say let's party!"

They went upstairs to change. They had to use Mildred's room because the other bedrooms were full of boxes. Mildred stood in front of the mirror, naked from the waist up. Her breasts hung down like two small water balloons.

"You didn't happen to bring an extra old bra with you, did you? One that'a look good under that blouse? You know, something with a little lace on it?"

"Mama, you kill me sometimes, you know that?" Freda went to get the bra and Mildred put it on.

"How about them gold earrings you hiding in the top part of your suitcase. Can I wear 'em?"

"I do not believe you, you know that?" Freda brought the earrings back and slid them into Mildred's ears for her.

"Anything else, Your Majesty?"

"Yeah, one more thang. Would you mind plucking your mama's eyebrows before we leave? You know I always loved the way you plucked 'em."

"Yes, I will pluck your eyebrows."

"Have I ever told you how much I loved you."

Freda looked at Mildred, at her mama, as if she weren't hearing her, as if the words weren't coming from Mildred's lips.

"I don't know, probably."

"Well if I didn't, I'm gon' tell you now. I love you, Freda."

They stood there as if they didn't know what to do next.

Then Mildred reached for her daughter as if she were a gift she had always wanted and had finally gotten.

Freda pressed her head into Mildred's bare shoulder. A piece of red hair curled like a C within eye level. Mildred's breasts felt full against her own, and Freda couldn't tell whose were whose. They held each other up. They patted each other's back as if each had fallen and scraped a knee and had no one else to turn to for comfort. It seemed as if they hugged each other for the past and for the future.

Finally, Mildred stepped back. She tripped over an empty box.

"Shit, I'm gon' run my makeup. You know how long it took me to put this mess on?"

"I can imagine—you've got on enough of it."

"Don't give me none of your lip, girl, just make me look like a movie star."

"All right already, sit down."

Mildred sat down in an armless chair. Freda went into the bathroom to get the tweezers and Vaseline.

"Now, rub that Vaseline on 'em till they get good and tender and promise me you won't try to pull my brains loose and make my head hurt and don't yank so damn hard that my eyes start watering like some baby and run the rest of my eyeshadow."

Freda shifted her weight from one foot to the other and put her hands on her hips. Mildred eased her head back in the chair and closed her eyes.

"Mama," Freda said.

"What?" she asked, without opening her eyes. Mildred clasped her hands and wove her fingers together as if she were saying a silent prayer.

Freda looked down at Mildred's face. "Nothin'," she said. Freda was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.

About the Author

T
ERRY
M
C
M
ILLAN
has been a fellow at both Yaddo and the MacDowell Colony, as well as a
New York Times
best-selling author.
Mama
was her debut novel.