Sweet Tea: A Novel (14 page)

W
estin opened his trunk and placed our bags inside and then opened the back door for us. We slid across the soft leather seats. I predicted a limousine might feel like this. The car reeked of new leather mixed with a strange-smelling tobacco. Not a speck of dirt lay on the carpet. I imagined I was a reporter going to New York on assignment, and Westin was my driver.

He turned on the radio and drove away. As we veered around the corner, I saw Miss Ruth crocheting while she sat on her wide-back chair. I waved. She glanced down quickly, pretending not to see me. I fought a giggle.
First the fur coat. Now a fancy car. I could only imagine the thoughts running through her head, preparing for a full-fledged gossip session.

“I called your great-grandmother and introduced myself,” Westin said. “She told me that indeed your mama had called and said she’d be coming with a friend for a visit. She sounded thrilled.”

CeCe placed her hand on her chest. “Thank you so much for calling. I couldn’t do it. I barely remember our great-grandma. It seemed strange to call her,” she said. “Did you ask when she thought Mama would get there?”

“All she said was that she’s on her way.” He broke into a smile. “Not to worry, girls. We’re on our way too. I believe God watches over those who can’t do it for themselves.”

I guess my initial thoughts about Westin were wrong. Even if I hadn’t changed my mind, he was right. I had no choice but to have faith at that moment.

“How long will it take to get there?” CeCe asked

He glanced at his watch. “We’ll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon. We’ll have to stop overnight.”

Westin pulled the ashtray open, took out a small wooden pipe and packed it with tobacco. He looked somewhat regal as he put the pipe in his mouth and lit it with a square silver lighter.

My eyes widened at the thought of spending the night with Westin. I whispered in CeCe’s ear, “We’re not sharing a room with him. I know he’s been kind to us and all but—”

“Uhhh, Westin . . . we can sleep in the car,” CeCe said.

He grinned. “Don’t worry. You two will have your own room.”

CeCe looked downward from Westin and murmured, “We can’t afford a room.”

I caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” True kindness streamed out.

“Thanks Westin,” CeCe and I said simultaneously and sunk into the seat, relieved. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Cherry tobacco smoke from Westin’s pipe wafted through the air and woke me from a strange dream. I coughed and peered out the window. A sign read, “Welcome to South Carolina.” We’d left the state of Georgia and though the circumstances were not part of my plan, a jolt of excitement filled my senses.

Westin cracked the window and pushed a cassette in the car stereo. Elvis sang gospel music as we drove up I-95. I realized what Mama meant when she said she had been the one to take advantage of Westin. Our own family wouldn’t help us the way this man already had.

My heart felt at ease when I heard the voice of Elvis. I hadn’t heard his gospel music since Daddy was alive. Whenever he took us on road trips, he played the same cassette. The song brought back a feeling I missed. A feeling I longed for. I felt God tugging at my heart while I listened to the words to
Peace in the Valley
.

No one spoke much, but by the time we stopped for a late lunch, it was clear that CeCe had warmed up to Westin too.

“How did you really meet Mama?” I asked. Subconsciously, I clutched my purse with anticipation, fearing he might share something too embarrassing to hear.

He chuckled and turned down the music. “You know your mama,” he said. “I was driving home from work and noticed a beautiful woman strolling along the highway. She seemed confused. So pretty and all, I couldn’t help but stop to ask if she needed assistance. When I rolled the passenger-side window down, she stuck her hand inside, unlocked the door, and jumped right in.”

“She just slid right inside your car without saying a word?”

“Oh, no, she said plenty. She talked the entire ride home. Wouldn’t stop talking.” Westin cracked a smile. “Then she invited me in the house for a drink and got awful friendly, and quick.”

He buried his head like a turtle into his shoulders. “I suppose that’s a bit too much information to be sharing with you girls.” In the rearview mirror, I saw his eyes soften. “I could tell she was in a bad way. I once knew someone like your mama.”

He turned the music back up. The discussion stopped for a while, and CeCe and I fell asleep again. When I awoke, we were parked in front of a motel and Westin was gone.

I shook CeCe by the shoulder. “Westin’s gone.”

Bleary-eyed, she sat up, blinked a few times, and glanced around. “Bet he’s in the office.” She pointed to the front of the building. “He’s probably checking in.”

Seconds later he returned and opened the car door. “Come on girls, let’s get you settled.”

He carried our bags and unlocked the door to the room, and handed me a fistful of change. “There’s a vending machine in the office if you get hungry. I’ll be back bright and early.” He clapped his hands. “I’ll have the main desk give you a ring.” He gave CeCe the key. “Sleep well. We’ll have your mama back in no time.”

“Thank you, Westin,” both CeCe and I said.

CeCe placed her hand on his arm. “You’ve been very kind.”

With a smile and a nod, he disappeared into the room next door. CeCe pushed the door of our room open and we tossed our bags on the beds. Two full beds with a nightstand and a TV on top of a dresser completed the room. It was clean and neat, and we were glad to be there. I plopped down on the bed closest to the door while CeCe ran for the bathroom.

I rolled around on top of the bed, then hopped up and grabbed my journal out of my bag and started writing. Somehow I thought that if I didn’t write down what had happened today, I wouldn’t even believe it myself a year from now.

By the time she walked out of the bathroom, I had my pajamas in hand and bolted in after her. I heard the television come on. A newswoman was talking about the weather.

“You did bring a coat, right?” CeCe asked. “It’s gonna be cold tomorrow.”

I cracked the door open and stuck my head out, removing my toothbrush from my mouth. “Yes, I brought the white rabbit. What better place to wear it?” I smiled, exposing a mouthful of green toothpaste.

“I brought the silver fox!” CeCe raised her eyebrows, grinned slightly and shrugged. 

Wearing a fur coat searching for my Mama in New York City was the last thing I ever thought I’d be doing. I figured CeCe felt the same way.

I finished my nighttime ritual, I stretched out on the bed and waved my arms and legs on the silky bed cover as if I were making snow angels.

“Isn’t this something?” I shimmied underneath the blankets and pulled them up to my neck.

CeCe slipped under the blankets as well, smiling with her eyes and a look of ecstasy upon her face as if she were posing for an ad for a queen size bed. “Nothing against you, Liv, but I long for the day I get my own bed.”

“No kidding!” I said in agreement. “You’ve started snoring.”

“You steal the blankets.”

“I’m only trying to take back what I started with.”

We both laughed, enjoying our freedom for the moment.

I sighed. “If Monica Bradshaw ever knew I shared a bed with my sister, she’d have a party to announce it.”

“You won’t have to worry much longer,” she replied. “If I work extra hard, I might be able to graduate early, and I’ll be out of here as quick as you can say, ‘See ya, CeCe,’ and you will have the bed all to yourself!”

My carefree moment came to a halt. CeCe had no idea how I hated when she talked about leaving. I couldn’t imagine being on this journey without her.
What if Mama tries taking off again after CeCe’s gone? It’ll only be Luke and me. We can’t handle it alone, I just know it!

I changed the subject. “Hey, CeCe, how come you don’t date anymore?”

She sat up and fluffed the pillows. “Who said I don’t date?”

“Let’s see. I’ve never answered the phone for you with a guy at the other end of the line. I’ve never seen you run out the door to get into a car driven by a guy. And, you never talk about guys. You’re not
funny
, are you?”

She threw a pillow at me. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about guys with my little sister. Did you ever think about that?”

I shrugged. “Pulleeze, I’m not so little, CeCe.” I rolled my eyes. “Sure, whatever, but that only answers one of my observations.”
Journalists must be very observant.
“What about the others? What about the phone calls and dates?”

She stared down and began picking at her fingernails. “I see guys at school. We go out for lunch, and sometimes dinner. Only I don’t tell them where I live, and I don’t give them my phone number. If you give ’em too much, they’ll want more. That’ll only complicate things. I told you, I’m out of here soon. I don’t need a guy interrupting my plans.”

I wanted to plug my fingers in my ears and yell, “NO, YOU CAN’T GO,” but she had every right to pursue her dreams after fending for us all these years. Selfish guilt spiraled down upon me each time I thought about delaying CeCe’s future so I could pursue my own, but it wasn’t all for me. It was for Mama too.

“Well, at least you’re not
funny,
” I said.

She whipped her other pillow at me.

I tossed the pillow back and turned up the volume on the TV.

“See if you can find a New York station,” she said.

I began switching channels and stopped to view the news. The anchorman discussed the sad economic state of the country then changed the subject to the benefits of the latest wrinkle cream. Within another few seconds, he moved on to the next subject.

He said, “Today, two unidentified women entered a nursing home in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, and initiated a game of strip poker with some male residents. Obviously, someone wasn’t doing their job.” The anchorman chuckled. “By the time a staff member discovered them, the men were almost completely disrobed.”

“I guess the women knew their game,” the co-anchorwoman said. 

“I think you’re right,” the anchorman responded. “According to our report, the only clothes
they
needed to put back on were their shoes and sweaters. The women left willingly, and the nursing home isn’t pressing charges.” Both reporters grinned.

The screen split to a clip of the women leaving the nursing home, escorted by what looked like two burly male nurses.

Our mouths practically dropped to the motel room floor.

“IT’S MAMA! Look at her, she’s wearing a mini-skirt. And high heels! Where’d she get those clothes?” I said.

“Oh my gosh, look at Minta!” CeCe added. “I remember her being more reserved.  If Mama didn’t know her, she’d call her a floozy. An old floozy.”

I couldn’t answer. I was struggling to close my mouth.

CeCe shook her head from side to side. “I don’t believe it. I didn’t know Mama even knew how to play poker.”

“Maybe Minta taught her,” I shrunk down into the bed and pulled the covers over my head. I pictured the two of them playing poker in Central State, dressed in white hospital gowns at a round table. “I told you Mama’s become promiscuous. She’s like Jekyll and Hyde, only in a female way.”

“At least we know she made it to Brooklyn,” CeCe laughed.

I shot out from under the covers. “Oh, my gosh. I hope Westin didn’t see this. There’s no way he’d want to stay with Mama after knowing what she did. And he’s been the first good thing that’s happened to her since Daddy died.”

CeCe nodded. I crawled back under the covers.

“I just hope she doesn’t do anything else,” CeCe said. “Now go to sleep. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

And that was the last thing I heard.

T
he phone rang at 5:30 a.m. I ran my hand across the bed for CeCe, expecting her to be nudging me to answer it. Then I realized I wasn’t home.

CeCe answered the phone and hung up quickly. I wanted to lie in the enormous bed a little longer, but she ripped the covers off me and said, “Get up. Westin will be waiting for us.”

Fifteen minutes later he knocked on our door.

“How’d you girls sleep?” He handed each of us a bag with donuts and a cup of tea.

I stretched and yawned. “Pretty amazingly, thank you.” I glanced over at CeCe. “We haven’t had our own beds in four years.”
I can’t believe I just told him that
.

CeCe nodded while her smile faded. She didn’t like to share too much information and probably didn’t like that I just did.

He displayed an understanding smile. Then out of nowhere he asked, “What happens if you eat yeast and shoe polish?”

CeCe rubbed her eyes. “Huh?”

I pinched her arm. “I think he’s telling us a joke.”

“Oh. Ummm, don’t know.” She yawned.

“You rise . . . and shine!” He clapped his hands and raised his arms in the air. “Wake up, girls! We’ve got a big day ahead of us. We’ll be in New York in just a few hours, and we’re gonna get your mama.”

We tossed our suitcases into the open trunk, hopped in the car and took off. He adjusted his mirrors for the first few minutes. “Glad you slept well. We’ll be doing a lot of walking.”

“Walking? In New York?” I arched my right eyebrow. “Isn’t New York like the biggest city in the world? How are we gonna find Mama on foot? And it’s dangerous too.”

While he answered, he twisted a Styrofoam cup of coffee into a holder in the console, and then packed his pipe with tobacco. “We won’t be walking through the entire city, just certain areas.” He lit the tobacco and puffed on his pipe. Then he cracked the window and blew the smoke out. “Some of the roads aren’t fit for an automobile as fine as this.”

“Yeah, we might be sucked into a pothole,” I said. “Or we could get barraged with windshield-cleaning fanatics. Or worse! Carjacked.”

CeCe glared at me. “Where’d you hear all these things?”

“Jonzie’s been to New York several times. She told me all about it.” I wrapped my arms around my body. “Daddy told me too. He said some people make their living cleaning your car windshield. Whether you like it or not.”

“Now, now, stop your worrying,” Westin said. “Windshield washers are harmless, and I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone who has been carjacked either.” He smiled. “Once we reach Manhattan, I’m gonna drop this baby off in a parking garage. We’ll be taking the subway to Brooklyn from there.”

“The subway!” CeCe and I both said at the same time.

“We’ve never been on a subway,” I said. “Aren’t they even more dangerous?”

He took a sip from his coffee then placed it back inside the holder. “You’ll be just fine. You’re with Westin Barnes!” He held his head high and grinned into the rearview mirror at us.

Excitement and fear, my two closest companions, tugged at my insides again. I liked adventure - I yearned it. But the thought of Mama roaming around New York City on her way to Brooklyn with Minta frightened me to death.
Stop worrying,
I told myself.
She lived there for six years when she first met Daddy. She’ll be all right.

I bit into my doughnut and sipped some tea to force it down my throat.

Westin slowed down to pay the toll before we traveled over the Delaware Memorial Bridge. “We won’t be traveling entirely on foot, girls. We’ll catch a few taxicabs too. Maybe we’ll pass the nursing home Minta and your mama paid a visit.”

I looked over at CeCe, saw her eyes were as wide as mine. I held my breath for a second. “Did you see the news?”

“Yessiree, I did—nearly choked on my pipe.”

He pushed the Elvis cassette back into the stereo and we continued toward our destination. I whispered in CeCe’s ear, softer than before to make sure Westin couldn’t hear me, “What do you think he does for a living?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he owns his own business or something.” She squinted at the smoke swirling out the window. “Maybe a tobacco farm.”

“Maybe he’s a mobster,” I said. “He’s got lots of money and smokes a pipe and is very mysterious.”

CeCe twisted her mouth into a cynical smirk. “There’s no such thing as a southern mobster—and mobsters smoke cigars, not pipes.”

“Sure there is. They’re called Sicilians, they live south of Italy.”

CeCe rolled her eyes. “You need to get out of Landon. You’re more than a few books short of the Landon Library.”

When I ace the SAT test, and get a scholarship, everyone will see how smart I really am! And I will get out of Landon.
I elbowed her in the side. “Shut up. I’m not stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, but southerners and Sicilians aren’t the same.”

I turned away. “I know that. I’m just being funny! You have no sense of humor!”

CeCe continued staring out the window and ignored me. Westin turned Elvis down a notch and said, “I own a real estate firm.” He turned the music back up.

CeCe and I stared at each other and covered our mouths to stifle our giggles.

After talking for another hour or so, we fell asleep again. When I woke up, I smelled something similar to rotten eggs. “Eeeew, what the heck is that smell?”

“We’re in Elizabeth, New Jersey,” Westin said. “Stinkiest city in the Armpit State.”

I waved my hand in front of my face. “What is it?”

“Factories.”

“Daddy said New Jersey was a nice place,” I said as I pinched my nose closed.

“Oh, there are some wonderful places in New Jersey, the shore towns especially. But the turnpike in Elizabeth isn’t one of ’em. In just a few minutes, we’ll be going through the Holland Tunnel and we’ll be in New York.”

“Does it smell better than this place?” I asked.

“Yup, most of it anyway.”

I sat up straight and paid detailed attention to my surroundings.

“CeCe, it’s the Statue of Liberty,” I said, pointing out the window. “And the Empire State Building!”

“Maybe I’ll come here instead of Hollywood,” she mused. “Actresses have more opportunities here . . . with Broadway and all.”

There she goes again
. “We need to find Mama,” I said. “Stop talking about leaving, will ya?”

She frowned, and the light in her eyes disappeared.

I didn’t mean to make her feel bad about leaving. It just scared me. And being scared about the condition in which we might find Mama was about all the fear I could take in one day.

Westin announced our surroundings as we drove through the city streets. “This is Chinatown,” he pointed. I saw signs with Chinese writing along storefronts.

“Little Italy, right over there,” he said and smiled. “Lot’s of good food here!”

We drove through all the places I’d heard of but had never seen before.

He pulled down a street filled with restaurants in Little Italy and drove up a ramp into a dark parking garage.

“Okay girls, it’s time to depart from luxury for a while. We need to refuel our bodies. We’ll get lunch, then it’s onto the subway and then Brooklyn.”

The tiny restaurant reeked of garlic and wine. White linen towels hung on each waiter’s arm. They filled our water glasses without asking, and placed more forks at the side of our plate than we’d normally made use of in an entire day at home.

I ordered chicken parmesan. Mama used to make that for Daddy when she felt like cooking. She still made it for us on special occasions. CeCe ate a salad and nibbled on bread from the basket in the center of the table. Westin ate something that resembled baby octopus. He called it calamari. It smelled good, but when he asked me if I wanted to try it, I declined. He simply smiled and kept right on eating.

After lunch, he paid the check, and we walked toward the subway. It was chilly, but not too chilly. Fog emerged from manholes covering the sidewalk. Vendors selling everything you could imagine lined both sides of the streets. I could’ve walked around for a year and not gotten bored. All sorts of aromas filled the air. One smell in particular caught my attention.

“What’s that smell?” I asked Westin.

He lifted his chin and sniffed. “You mean the nuts?”

I inhaled deeply again. “Is that what it is?”

We stopped at a corner stand. “They’re roasted chestnuts,” he said.

              CeCe and I stood next to him while he purchased some. I continued to take in the resonance of the city. Although I wasn’t sure I liked the aroma of roasted chestnuts, it wasn’t a scent I’d soon forget.

He held the paper bag tight and shook it. “Chestnuts are a tricky nut to roast. You need to slit ’em before you roast ’em, or they’ll explode.” He nodded in a serious way. “Also, when you crack ’em open, you need to make sure you check for dark spots. You don’t want to eat the dark spots.”

“Why not?” I asked.

He grimaced. “It’s no good. It’ll make you sick. You can still eat the nut, but first you've got to scrape the bad part away—kind of like pruning roses—only with roses, new ones will grow and take their place. That doesn’t happen with nuts.”

“Hmmm, seems like a lot of work just to eat a nut,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe, but they’re worth it.”

The man behind the counter handed Westin his change, and he held the bag in front of me.

I reached in the bag and took a handful, cracked one and dug inside it with my fingernail. I popped the contents into my mouth. “Pretty good,” I said.

“Told ya. Here, have a try.” He handed the bag to CeCe.

“No thanks, I’ll pass.”  

He shrugged. “Okay, maybe another time.”

The light on the corner turned green and we skipped across the street with the montage of people attempting to beat the light before it turned red again. My eyes darted back and fourth watching the cars and the people pass by. Women dressed in business suits wore sneakers. Others wore mini-skirts, fur coats, and high heels. Jewels on their fingers and wrists flashed as they waved their arms in the air, hailing taxicabs. Homeless men and women rolled grocery carts filled with their belongings.

When we approached 42
nd
Street, Westin said, “Turn your head.”

“Why?” I asked. I’d heard 42
nd
Street is where all the famous theatres are. I soon realized many other theatres could be found there too - the kind with triple X’s posted across the marquee. Grossed out, I stuck to CeCe like a shadow. Westin walked with purpose, and followed behind us like a bodyguard.

“Y’all ready?” he asked a few minutes later, and stopped walking.

We stood at the top of a stairway of what looked like the entry to the bottom of the earth.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed CeCe’s hand, she grabbed mine, and we walked down the steep stairwell. He approached an attendant behind a glass booth, and I heard him order tokens through a glass window. CeCe and I followed him closely, pushing through the turnstile. I was about to have my first subway ride.

Moments later we stood alongside train tracks and waited. The brakes screeched, startling me. I’d never heard anything so loud. Hordes of people poured out, and we crammed in between the assortment of people before the doors clenched our bodies like
Jaws.
Every seat was taken. We stood in the aisle and grabbed onto metal triangles hanging from the ceiling.

“You okay?” Westin asked, peering at CeCe and me. “You look a little green.”

“Who me?” I asked. “I’m fine. CeCe’s the one who looks like she’s about to lose her lunch.”

Her almost-blue knuckles held onto the triangle waiting for the train to take off. And when it did, it moved like lightning chasing the wind. I pretended to be fine . . . until the lights went out. I squeezed CeCe’s hand.

“What’s going on with the lights?” I asked Westin.

The lights turned on again.

“It’s okay. It happens all the time.”

Not exactly the answer I hoped for, but at least they came back on fairly quick.

Packed with strangers reeking of cologne, smoke, body odor, and unfamiliar foods, the subway car sped through the tunnels while the lights continued to flicker on and off. Each time they went out, I feared that when they returned, CeCe and Westin would be gone and I’d be alone.

The conductor hit the brakes and I lost my grip of the triangle, nearly landing in an old man’s lap. Westin caught me just in time.

“This is our stop,” he said. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

I almost skipped down the sidewalk. “I can’t believe I’m gonna meet my great-grandma. I can’t believe I
have
a great-grandma.”

The light in CeCe’s eyes told me she was excited too. “I wonder what she’s like,” she wondered as she puffed smoke rings with the frosty air. I tried too, but they came out in little cotton balls.

“Hold up, girls,” Westin said.