Red Light Wives (32 page)

“Rosalee, where have you been, girl?” Lula's voice sounded like an echo.

I took my time answering. My chest and jaw muscles were still tight from my run-in with Mama. “Lula, I had some things I had to sort out,” I said, the telephone in one hand, a straight shot of tequila in the other. My head was aching, my eyes were burning, and my stomach felt like it had been turned inside out. “It's a family thing with my mama. The woman's out of control,” I explained, hoping Lula wouldn't press me for the details. There were certain things I liked to keep to myself. “You know how it is.”

Lula let out a heavy sigh. “No, I don't, but I wish I did. My mama didn't live long enough for us to lock horns the way you and your mama do.”

I forced myself to ignore the sad tone in Lula's voice. “Well, old people can get on the last nerve, girl. And, with Clyde and the tricks, I got enough to deal with.”

“Well, I'm feelin' you there, sister. I got things I need to sort out myself.”

“So, has Clyde been keepin' you busy?” I could have answered that question myself, but I just threw it out there because I couldn't think of anything else to say. And the last thing I wanted to do was let too much information slip out about what I was planning to do. I was still just drunk enough to do that, if I wasn't careful.

“Uh-huh. Like a goddamn plantation overseer. With you doin' whatever it is you've been doin', me and Ester have been coverin' your tricks.” I didn't like the smug tone in Lula's voice. I could tolerate Ester and Rockelle talking trash to me, but not Lula. She was as close as I could get to having a homegirl. Or another sister to replace the two I'd buried.

There was a long moment of silence before I said anything else. “How's Rocky?”

“Oh, girl, you don't want to know.” Lula sniffed then told me about Rockelle's retarded babysitter turning a few tricks of her own. “Clyde's mad as hell about Rocky runnin' her own game, advertisin' for tricks in
The Spectator
. Helen spilled the beans as soon as Clyde rescued her from that hotel.”

“Well, we both know what's on Clyde's agenda. It's all about us gettin' laid and him gettin' paid,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but the brother surprised the shit out of me when he busted into that hotel room and dragged that retarded girl out of there and took her home to her folks. But not before he beat the shit out of that trick. I wanted to get violent myself. What kind of man would take advantage of a retarded child? It pissed Clyde off real bad. With him havin' a daughter just as helpless as Helen, naturally he took the shit real hard.” Lula stopped just long enough to take a deep breath. “So, why you been keepin' such a low profile? And don't tell me it's just your mama. I know you better than you think, girl.”

For Lula to be just a few years older than me, she had a lot of motherly ways about her. Even though she certainly didn't look like a mammy, she sure acted like one. And she had Clyde's nose opened so wide, it wouldn't have done me any good to challenge her authority.

“I'm just tired, Lula. That's all. I just needed a break.” The last thing I wanted to do was tell Lula more than she needed to know so she could blab. She carried a lot more weight with Clyde than I did. And it was no wonder. She and Ester were the only ones he was fucking and the ones with whom he spent the most time. That meant I couldn't trust Lula with information I didn't want Clyde to know. Especially with him acting so strange lately. Clyde had never been violent or that mean to me, but he had come to depend on the money I gave him. “Can I talk to you tomorrow? I want to get some sleep now.”

“I feel you. Ester's in her room cryin' so I better go see about her. Sherrie Armstrong's funeral wore her out, and then she had to go do Mr. Bob two nights in a row. I think once we all get some rest, we'll feel better. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

No you won't
, I said to myself. Not tomorrow or any other day.

 

I had to have another drink before I did what I had to do before I crawled into bed. I called my husband in Detroit. I wasn't surprised, but I was disappointed when a woman answered the telephone.

I cleared my throat and clutched the telephone with both hands to keep from dropping it. “Can I speak to Sammy?”

“Who is this callin' here this time of night?” the woman asked, growling. I knew that my husband didn't tolerate homely, hard women, but this one sounded like a straight-up, juke joint-hopping wench. I pictured an out-of-shape cow with buck eyes, a ratty wig, and a cruel scar on her face.

“His
wife!
” I hollered. “His wife,” I repeated, just to make sure that heifer heard me right. I heard some muffled voices in the background, then after what seemed like five minutes, Sammy came on the line.

“This is Sammy,” he said, talking loud. “What can I do for you?”

Sammy sounded impatient and annoyed, and that made me even more nervous. I almost hung up.

“Sammy, this is Rosalee,” I mumbled.

“I know who it is. Shit.”

“Who was that woman?” I asked in a shaky, but firm voice. I'd come too far to back out. “Why is she answerin' your phone?”

“What's it to you?” Sammy barked, sounding even more impatient and annoyed.

“Sammy, can we talk?” I asked, my voice more level. “I need to talk to you, real bad.”

“Uh-huh. You been gone almost over two years. After all this time, what we got to talk about, Rosalee? You want to give me a address so I can send you them divorce papers?”

“Sammy, I don't want a divorce. I want to come home.” I was surprised at how easy it was for me to get the right words out. I held my breath, waiting for him to respond, hoping he wouldn't cuss me out and hang up on me. That's what I would have done if the shoe had been on the other foot.

He laughed long and loud. “Well, do say. You run off and ain't called me not one time to see how I was doin', now you want to come home. Well, I done heard everything now!” he said in such a sharp tone, his words almost cut into my ear.

“You don't want me to come back home?” I said, pouting. “You don't want things to go back to the way they were?”

“It don't matter what I want no more. You showed me what kind of woman you was by takin' off the way you did. Now you out there in sunny California, I advise you to stay out there with whoever you with.”

“I am not with another man, if that's what you mean.”

“Yeah, right. And Santa Claus ain't got nothin' to do with Christmas. You been gone all this time, and I'm supposed to believe you ain't been fuckin' no other man?”

“Well, I haven't,” I said, crossing my fingers. “You are the only man I ever loved and I-I want to be with you, Sammy Pittman.”

Sammy let out an eerie laugh. It sounded like a screech.

“Sister Pittman, you gonna have to come up with a better reason than that.” He cleared his throat. “What kind of fool you think I am?”

We didn't speak for a minute.

“You got somebody else? Is the hussy who answered your phone your woman now?” My voice was getting weaker by the second, and I was about to lose my nerve and hang up after all. But I couldn't. There was too much at stake.

“What do you think? And what do you care? I'm still a man, and I'm gonna do what a man do.”

“All right. Don't take me back into your life as your woman. But take me back as a friend. You and I were friends before we were lovers, all through school. We can be just friends again. I'm comin' back to Detroit. Me and Mama.”

“Rosalee, you got more nerve than a crooked politician. Hold on, let me get my cigarette.”

I breathed through my mouth while I waited for my husband to come back to the telephone. I heard more mumbling in the background. My heart almost broke clean in two when I heard him laugh before he got back on the line.

“Girl, you somethin' else,” Sammy said harshly. He paused again to laugh some more. I was getting impatient and annoyed myself, but like I said, I had too much at stake. I sat on the side of my unmade bed, clutching the telephone like it was going to jump out of my hand. “Rosalee, I didn't know if you was dead or alive. Shackin' up with another dude or what. Well, I didn't let that stop me from livin'. Now if you comin' back to Detroit, fine. That's your business. I know damn well you didn't expect me to welcome you back with open arms after the way you took off. Shit.”

“We can't even be friends? You won't help us out 'til I get a job when I get back there?” I asked, my voice bleating like a wounded lamb.

“Look, this is a bad time to be talkin'. And anyway, I got company.”

“Do you still love me, Sammy?”

“That don't make no difference. And, yes, I do…but, you tripped out on me. I wasn't expectin' to hear from you no more.”

“Sammy, I'm comin' back to Detroit. If you don't want to be bothered with me, fine. I won't bother you once I get there.”

“Bye, Rosalee. Whatever you do, I wish you all the luck in the world. You gonna need it. And, one more thing, I hope you be a better woman to the next man you get.” Sammy slammed the telephone down so hard, something popped inside my ear.

I sat staring at my bedroom wall for about ten minutes before I was able to move again.

While I was packing, the telephone rang. Assuming it was Clyde or one of the girls, or worse, Mama, I let the machine pick up. I was surprised, but happy, to hear Sammy's voice again.

“Sammy?” I said, out of breath as I clicked off the machine and picked up the telephone. “Sammy, baby, I'm here!” I yelled, sitting down on my bed so hard my tailbone ached.

“Why you soundin' so surprised? I thought you'd be glad to hear from me.”

“I didn't give you my phone number.”

“Star sixty-nine.”

“Oh.”

“Uh, I couldn't talk too easy when you called. Clarice, uh, my lady friend, was here.”

“I see. So, uh, y'all seriously involved?”

“Involved, yes. Seriously, no. At least, not yet,” he admitted. Sammy's words felt so much like bites, my ears tingled. But I couldn't blame the man for gnashing his teeth. “I ain't too anxious to get off into another relationship. Especially after what you done…” Sammy cleared his throat. “Listen, if you serious about comin' back to Detroit, I can find a place for y'all. But, you can't stay at my place. My life is already complicated enough.”

“Sammy, I don't want to make things any harder on you. And I can understand if you don't want me back. But I hope we can still be friends. You are the best friend I ever had, male or female.” I was begging, but under the circumstances, I wasn't too proud to do it. And, it was a small price to pay if it got me what I wanted. “If you do find me and Mama a place, I'll pay you back when I get a job.” I had a few thousand dollars of my trick money, but I wanted to hold on to as much of that for as long as I could.

Sammy sucked his teeth and grunted. “Aw, girl, you ain't got to pay me back nothin'. When, and if, you come back here, you go your way and I'll go mine. I can't be bothered with your drama no more. If I was to let you back up in my life, next thing I know, you'll take off again. I can't deal with no more crazy shit like that, Rosalee. I'm a man, not no Incredible Hunk or some no-brain robot.”

“And you won't have to deal with no more drama from me. I just need you to help me and Mama get situated. As a friend.”

Sammy blew out his breath, sighing so hard he had to cough. “I swear to God, you somethin' else, girl. I am scared of you. I didn't appreciate what you done to me, and I ain't never gonna let you forget it. Everybody always talkin' that shit about how doggish Black men are, well I'm a good brother and look what it got me. I done my best to make you happy, girl. I left my job, home, and family back in Georgia to run off to Detroit with you. Not many men, Black, White, yellow, or brown would do that for a woman. You didn't have to up and leave like you done. That shit…that shit hurt me to my heart. You can't expect to come back to me like you been on a vacation or somethin'. You left me, and I should have got a divorce from your black ass by now anyway.”

Sammy had every reason in the world to scold me. And I took it like the woman I thought I was.

“I was wrong, Sammy. I know I was wrong now. I love my mama, but I should have drawn the line when she asked me to leave Detroit and move out here to take care of her.”

“Naw, you should have drawn the line way before that.”

“I know, I know. Listen, you can still get a divorce, Sammy. I'll be more than happy to sign the papers or do whatever else I have to.”

“There ain't never been no divorce in my family. That's the last thing I wanna do,” Sammy said gently. The sincerity in his voice surprised me.

“But you brought it up first, not me,” I reminded.

Sammy mumbled something I couldn't understand. “What did you say?” I asked, my heart thumping so hard against the inside of my chest, I could hear it.

“When you comin'?” he asked.

“Just as soon as I can. Tomorrow if I can get us a flight.”

“Your mama want to do this thing too?”

“Not really. But I told her she can come with me, or she can stay out here.”

“My mama didn't want me to marry you, you know. She wanted me to marry one of them sanctified Wheeler girls.”

“That's your mama's business. She didn't have to live with me. And you can let her know that you can still marry one of the Wheeler girls. I won't stand in your way.”

“Shit. This is a hell of a way for us to get back together. And, by the way, just what you been doin' out there? California is a tough nut to crack if you ain't got no college education.”

“Huh? Oh, just workin' hard like everybody else. I had a few jobs…secretary, waitress. But it's so expensive to live out here. San Francisco makes Detroit seem like a hick town.” I forced myself to laugh. “I guess they want everybody to help with the upkeep on that Golden Gate Bridge.”