The Interruption of Everything (26 page)

“I do and as your
only
daughter-in-law, I do love and care about you, too, Arthurine. I miss you. I even think I miss Snuffy!”

“Now why you have to go and bring him up? If we move out of here, I told Prezelle I want to live someplace where we can have a dog. But of course he likes cats. I told him we could get one of each. They’ll just have to learn to get along and accept their differences. Anyway, you be careful.”

“I will. And tell Prezelle I said good night. I’ll see you two on Sunday.” I head down the hall and press the button for the elevator. The doors pop right open. As soon as I get inside, I hear Arthurine yell: “What time you picking us up?”

I just shake my head and hold the doors to stop them from closing, and yell back: “In plenty of time.”

Chapter 25

B
unny loves my hair. And her necklace. Which she is wearing in broad daylight even though it’s an evening piece. We decide to stop by Paulette’s shop after leaving the gym to see if we can find something new to wear to church tomorrow. She’s actually going with her new fellow, whose name she insists on revealing to me in her very special way—it’s called guessing—while I attack the treadmill. “Next to Vietnamese food, what’s Leon’s favorite restaurant?”

“Hell, he’s got too many to choose from.”

“Just pick one he loves.”

“Chez Panisse?”

“It’s black-owned.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” I’m sweating like a prizefighter and finally up to an incline level higher than one, walking at a pace of three miles per minute, which for me is equivalent to running the 100-meter race under twelve seconds. To put it another way, I can’t think. “Just tell me who it is, Bunny, and stop playing these silly games.”

“You’ve got six more minutes to go plus the cool down, so keep walking and let me give you another hint. Does chicken and waffles mean anything to you?”

“You’re not talking about that nice-looking brother with the mixed gray hair. Avery-what’s-his-name…the owner?”

“I am.”

“I thought he was married?”

“He’s separated and getting a divorce.”

“How do you know that?”

“Trust me. I know. It’s about to get ugly because there’s money and property involved, which is why I’ve had to keep my mouth shut.”

“How long have you had to keep it shut?”

“Five or six months.”

“No kidding. And what makes him different from all the others?”

“Stop making it sound like I’ve done the football team or something, Marilyn, damn. I want to keep this one.”

“You wanted to keep all of them, Bunny.”

“That’s not totally true. Some of them were only good for a much-needed lay and we both knew it.”

“Whatever. I’m not even going to bother bringing up any names. How old is this guy?”

“Fifty.”

“And that’s not too old for you?”

“Not by a long shot. He’s a good man, Marilyn. I’ve finally met somebody who’s got integrity and knows what he’s doing and what he wants.”

“And what is he doing and what does he want?”

“He wants me. And he wants to sell his business and move to Napa and grow grapes.”

“I can just picture you out in the fields now, Beulah.”

“Seriously, Marilyn. His kids are grown and paid for. His wife is just a needy, greedy, spoiled half-white bitch who hasn’t worked a day in her married life and isn’t about to start now.”

“Sounds like I share some of her attributes.”

“Stop. You’re not even close. I mean, would you try to take Leon to the cleaners?”

“I wouldn’t try to take anybody to the cleaners. And to be honest, I haven’t actually thought that far ahead.”

“What if he comes home new and improved but wants a divorce? Have you thought about that?”

“Yeah. But what if I want one, too?”

“Then we’re back to my original question. Would you want half?”

“No.”

“But you deserve it.”

“Look, I’m done,” I say, grabbing my towel and hopping off this thing. “I think Leon has worked very hard all these years. He’s been a good husband. A good father. He’s invested wisely. And he’s always been a good provider. I’ve never really had to worry about money before.”

“Well, you need to start. If the needle swings to the right or left, you’re still going to have to live, and how do you think you’re going to be able to do that without his help?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t ask for something. But. If things get to that point, I just want to do what’s fair. I don’t want to break him.”

“Well, this is precisely why I went to college. Even being a country girl from Mississippi my mama always told the girls not to grow up depending on a man for everything because one day when they ain’t nowhere to be found, all you’ve got left is yourself.”

“I went to college, too, Bunny.”

“I mean, aren’t you worried just a little about what you’re going to do if this all goes down?”

“Yes! Now, does that make you feel better?”

“No, it does not. I just wanted you to know that Paulette and I got your back, that’s all. Leon isn’t the only one who’s heard of Smith Barney, okay?”

“Okay. And this is nice to know, because if the tables were turned, I’d do the same for you both. But guess what?”

“What?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing with my little part-time paychecks all these years? Spending them at Nordstrom’s and Neiman’s?”

She gives me an I-don’t-know look.

“I’ll just say this. I prefer Merrill Lynch. Enough said?”

“Enough said. And right on. Now let’s go rob Paulette.”

We walk in together even though we drove here in separate cars. We are surprised that no one’s in here. This is a first.

“Yes, I’m looking for something subtle to wear to church tomorrow,” Bunny says to Paulette, who’s steaming a really nice pale-yellow-and-blue pinstriped suit.

“You wouldn’t know subtle if it jumped on top of you,” she says. “How are you two huzzies doing? Fit, I see. And love the braids, Marilyn. They were a trip, weren’t they?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Did they talk you to death?”

“Yes. And I had to babysit and change a shitty diaper.”

“But isn’t that little Lexus edible?” Paulette says.

“You didn’t say anybody’s name is Lexus, did you?” Bunny asks.

“Yes, it is,” I say. “And he is a sweetheart. He even asked if he could go home with me.”

“He wants to go home with everybody that comes over there. Did he blow you a kiss?”

“Yes, he did.”

“He’ll probably end up in juvenile hall in a few years and grow up to be a ladies’ man if his mother doesn’t change her lifestyle.”

“Orange wasn’t doing anything strange that I noticed.”

“Orange?” Bunny says. “I’ve heard it all now.”

“No, you haven’t,” I say. “Her sister’s name is Blue.”

“Oh, I’m getting them mixed up. She’s the one with the problem. She sells marijuana between doing weaves and braids.”

“Now that I can believe, because she was talking out the top of her head. What size is that suit?” I ask.

“It’s too small for you. They did a good job, though. I love the color.”

“I do, too. What size is it?”

“It’s a twelve, but they run small. Believe me.”

“Would you mind if I tried to try it on?”

“Knock yourself out. But if you rip one of those seams you’re going to have to hand over Leon’s credit card again.”

“I have my own credit card, Paulette. I only use his when I’m mad.”

“When is he ever coming home?”

“A week from Monday.”

I take the suit into a dressing room. I love the way she’s draped the door. And it smells so good in here. “Bunny, are you having any luck?” I yell.

“No! All the stuff I see that I like I’d be struck down if I walked into church with this shit on.”

“You’ve been struck down before, haven’t you?” Paulette says.

All three of us are cracking up.

“Oh, shit,” I hear Paulette say.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Here comes this bitch.”

“What bitch?” Bunny says.

“Is it that Cleopatra?” I ask, as I pull the skirt up slowly and with a little struggle it slides up over my hips. When I fasten the waistband, I’m happy.

“Yeah, that’s her getting out of somebody’s car and she’s got those kids with her!”

“Who is she?” Bunny whispers, loud enough that I hear her.

“One of Mookie’s exes who had two of his kids and now that he’s out he’s blowing her off and she’s been bugging the hell out of me. I wonder what she’s doing coming to my store. That’s what I’m waiting to see.”

“Where’s the blouse that goes with this?” I ask.

“That is one homely child,” Bunny says. “And so are those kids. Are they both girls? Whatever they are why doesn’t she comb their hair? Look at them.”

“They’re both girls and supposedly they’re my grandchildren, but they don’t look anything like Mookie to me. And you’re right, they are different.”

I hear the door open and close.

“What can I do for you, Cleopatra?” Paulette says while she sticks her arm through the drapes with the blouse on a hanger.

“I came here to see you.”

“I assumed as much because you’re here. But what is it you want?”

“Ain’t this a store?”

“What do you think?”

“Don’t you want to know who these kids is?”

“I know who they are.”

I’m trying to get this blouse buttoned so I can go see, too, but there must be at least ten of them and the buttonholes are so tight I have to push hard to get them to go through. Shit, I want to poke my face between the curtains but there’s no way I can do it without being tacky or looking nosey. Lord knows I don’t want to do anything to provoke this woman and I hope Paulette doesn’t either.

“Go say hi, Quenella and Shante. That’s your grandmamma over there.”

“You don’t have to push them,” Paulette says. “And just what is it that you want me to do?”

“I want you to spend some time with ’em.”

“Right now?”

“Why not? You make time for your other two grandkids every chance you get, why not mine?”

“I’m trying to run a business here.”

“So? They won’t be in the way.”

“I don’t even know these kids!”

“That’s why I bought ’em over here. This is Quenella. She’ll be three next month. And that’s Shante. She just turned two.”

“Is it now possible to make babies from prison?”

“Why you asking me?”

“Well, Mookie’s been behind bars for three years. Go figure.”

“I ain’t got to justify nothing. He they daddy and he know it. He just don’t want to be bothered with ’em either.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to get to know them. I’m just not completely convinced that they’re my son’s kids. And even if they are, I don’t think today is the day nor is this the appropriate place for me to entertain them.”

“They ain’t monkeys.”

The jacket fits. I walk out, hoping to break up some of this tension. “Check this out,” I say and do a little turn. “I told you it would fit!”

It doesn’t work. Paulette doesn’t even look at me. Nor does Bunny, but again, if it looks like drama, she’s all eyes. “Look, Cleopatra. I think you need to take these kids home and get in touch with Mookie so the two of you can figure out a way to make other arrangements.”

Bunny is pretending to be interested in a dress she would never buy.

“I ain’t taking them nowhere.”

“Then what are you trying to say?”

“I just said it. I ain’t taking them nowhere. They gon’ stay here with you.”

“No, they aren’t.”

“Oh, yes, they is.”

She turns and heads toward the door. The person in the car has apparently been waiting.

“You should take these kids with you,” Paulette says again.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she says.

“Well, maybe you’ll listen to the police.” And just as Paulette is about to pick up the phone, that girl takes something out of her purse and comes charging toward Paulette. Before I know it, Bunny and I are rushing to stop her and that’s when we hear a gun go off. The kids are screaming and hide behind a rack of skirts. We all freeze for a moment. But I don’t see any blood.

“Paulette?” I yell, as I pull Cleopatra away from her and snatch that gun out of her hands so fast I don’t even realize I’ve done it. Bunny helps me restrain her, but I really don’t need it. I have her arm twisted so hard it’s almost in a knot. If she moves, it’ll break. And if this bitch has hurt my friend, I swear, I’ll kill her myself.

“Paulette?” Bunny wails.

“I’m all right,” she says, and gets up slowly. She walks over to the little girls and takes them to the rear of the store. She’s clearly as spaced as we all are because she doesn’t even acknowledge Cleopatra.

“I missed this time, bitch, but I know where you live! And I know where you work! All I asked you to do was be a grandmother to your fucking grandkids. But you couldn’t do that?”

“Paulette, get the police on the phone,” I say.

“And who in the fuck are you?” Cleopatra turns to me.

I do not know where my strength is coming from, and even though this girl is strong as hell and steadily trying to move, she can’t. “Say one more word, bitch, and I’m going to do to you exactly what they do in the movies. Just one more word.”

“Fuck you, ho.”

I can’t help it. I guess I’m on automatic response from all the anger and frustration and rage that’s been mounting these last couple of months because I take that gun and with all my might whack her dead in her goddamn mouth. She falls back against the wall mirror but it doesn’t break. Now I see blood. Bunny covers her mouth because she can’t believe what I just did. But neither can I. Cleopatra is cupping her mouth but can’t get up. The person outside in the waiting car has sped off. We hear sirens. I loosen my grip and back away from this girl and hold the gun out in front of her. Just like they do on TV except this isn’t TV. It’s so real it feels surreal. I look Cleopatra dead in the eye. She is trying to stare me down but her eyes are full of tears and they look sad, not evil. Something has been done to this girl to cause her to act like this. It’s both terrifying and heartbreaking to see so much at once in a person’s eyes. And especially a young woman. And one whose skin is the same color as mine.

When the police arrive and Paulette explains the whole scenario, they ask if she would like to press charges. She tells them that this all happened so fast she needs time to think about the best way to handle this. For a fleeting moment Cleopatra’s eyes lose their icy glare. As a police officer leads her outside to their waiting car, she turns and says, “But what about my kids?”

“Are you a blood relative?” one of them asks Paulette.

And Paulette looks down at the little girls who have seen far too much horror to be able to process it and says, “Yes. I’m their grandmother. And right now, they’re in good hands.”

As soon as they leave, Paulette closes the shop. It takes us all a while to regroup and settle our nerves. We just sit on the floor. Looking around. At nothing. And everything. Mistakes are always made. But who ever accepts responsibility for them? Who has to bear the burden, the weight? There is blood on this jacket. I was going to buy this size-twelve suit and wear it to church tomorrow. I want so much to close my eyes and just go to sleep to undream this and start from the time Bunny and I walked in the door. I wish we could just erase this and every unwanted painful experience from our minds. “This did really just happen, didn’t it, you guys?”