Miss Julia Meets Her Match (8 page)

I pushed through the kitchen door, figuring that if anybody could be of help it would be Lillian.

Before I could open my mouth, she said, “Oh, Miss Julia, I just got the awfulest news I ever heard, an’ I don’t know what we gonna do.”

That shook me. “Who told you? I just found out myself.”

She frowned. “How you find out? Janine jus’ call me all the way from Detroit and tole me.”

“Detroit? How . . . Oh, Lillian, we’re talking about two different things. Your news couldn’t be any worse than mine, but what is it?”

“It jus’ terr’ble, Miss Julia. I wouldn’t do this to you for anything in the world, so I got to move out somewhere real fast.”

“Move out?” I was stunned. Lillian had been living in my guest room upstairs for the past several months while her house was being remodeled and updated. “Where’re you going and why?”

“I don’t know where, but the why is ’cause that no-good gran’ of mine, you know Janine, she sendin’ her baby for me to take care of. She say she got a job in New York City, an’ can’t take no chile with her. So who the first person she think of to help her out? Me, that’s who, an’ here I am livin’ in yo’ house an’ I can’t take no chile, either.”

“Well, just tell her that having a great-grandchild is inconvenient now. She’ll understand when you tell her your house isn’t ready yet.”

“No’m, she won’t. I done tole her two dozen times I can’t do it, an’ she keep callin’ an’ keep callin’. Now, she already put that baby on the Greyhound bus, an’ it comin’ in tonight. I ’spect it already more’n half way here. That Janine done hook up with another triflin’ man, you want my opinion.”

“Well, my word, Lillian,” I said. “I guess there’s nothing to do but meet the bus. We’ll work something out when the baby gets here. Surely somebody’s with her on the bus. Maybe that person can be persuaded to help out.”

“It not ’zactly a baby. I jus’ say that. I think Latisha be ’bout five now. And, no’m, Janine put her on that bus by herself, an’ the driver say he look after her.” Lillian looked up at the ceiling and cried, “Lord Jesus, what I gonna do with another’n to raise, an’ me here in Miss Julia’s house?”

“Now, Lillian, there’s only one thing to do at this late date. Bring the child here for the time being, then we’ll see what can be done.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Lillian went on, tears shining in her eyes. “I don’t know what I done to have a gran’ like Janine, who don’t have the sense God give a billy goat.”

I patted her arm, trying to reassure her, but wondering how the rest of us would manage with a five-year-old in the house. It would be a temporary measure for us, but Lillian would have Janine and now, Latisha, as her cross to bear from now on. And it looked as if I was going to have Wesley Lloyd Springer, who I thought had been lifted from me some years ago, as my own never-ending burden.

Little Lloyd and I glanced at each other as we heard Hazel Marie’s car pull into the driveway a little after nine that night. She had taken Lillian to the Greyhound station to meet the bus, while we waited to meet our new house guest.

As the car doors slammed, I began to hear the chatter of indistinguishable words going on and on. Hazel Marie came into the kitchen, her eyes dancing with amusement.

She put down the Samsonite suitcase she’d brought in and held the door open for Lillian. “Wait’ll you meet Latisha,” she said, barely holding back a wide grin. “She got off the bus talking, and she hasn’t stopped since.”

We could hear her rattling on before we got our first look at Lillian’s great-grandchild. As we waited, in walked a tiny, brown-skinned girl with large eyes and a head full of plaits and barrettes. A rag doll of similar visage was clasped in one arm, while Lillian held the child’s other hand. As Latisha stood in the kitchen, taking everything in with a serious expression on her face, she kept on talking, not at all abashed at being in a strange place. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a penetrating, piercing little voice in my life.

Lillian said, “Hush, chile, jus’ hush for one minute. This here’s Miss Julia, who kindly let you come to visit. Now, you behave yo’self in her house, an’ show some manners, if you got any.”

The child looked me over with those serious eyes and said, “How you do, ma’am. You got a real nice house somewhere down here in North Car’lina, ’cept I don’t know where that is, but it’s where I’m at now.”

“We’re happy to have you, Latisha,” I said, but she’d turned her attention to Little Lloyd who was standing almost behind me.

“Who’s that big ole boy over there, Great-Granny?” Latisha asked, surprising me again with the strength of that voice coming out of such a thin little body.

“That there’s Little Lloyd, an’ you better not be botherin’ him,” Lillian said, looking about at the end of her tether.

“Lloyd? I never heard of such a name before in my life,” Latisha said. “Lloydy Lloyd, he look pretty good to me.”

Lillian frowned down at her and said, “Behave yo’self, Latisha. You know better’n that.”

“Well, I don’t think I do, but I’ll try,” Latisha said. “I don’t think he likes me, ’cause he ain’t said a word since I been here.”

Little Lloyd stepped forward and rectified that right away. “I do like you, Latisha, and I hope you’ll be happy here with us.”

“Look like I’m gonna be,” she said, as somber as a judge rendering an opinion. “These folks look pretty nice to me, Great-Granny, an’ I specially like that big, ole boy name of Lloyd.”

“Latisha,”
Lillian cried. “You got to be nicer’n that. Now, come on upstairs with me. You goin’ to bed, an’ maybe you be calmed down in the mornin’.”

“Well, I don’t think I will be, Great-Granny. This pretty much my nat’ral self right here and now.”

Lillian grasped her arm and practically lifted the child off the floor, as she headed for the back stairs. “Girl, you got to behave yo’self better’n this. These folks won’t know what to think of you. Now, say good night.”

“Lillian,” I said, seeing how embarrassed she was over the child’s talkativeness. “Lillian, don’t worry about Latisha. She is charming.”

Lillian grunted and, walking the child up the stairs, said, “She a little too charmin’ to my way of thinkin’.”

Latisha was not at all deterred. We could hear her voice chattering on and gradually fading out as they gained the top of the stairs. “I think that Miss Julia pretty charmin’, herself. An’that Miss Hazel Marie, she awful nice, bringin’ in my suitcase and drivin’ us an’ all. But I still like that big, ole boy the best. I ’spect I’m gonna be followin’ him around every where he go. He gonna think I’m his shadow, only colored in.”

As silence descended in the kitchen, the three of us looked at each other and began to laugh.

“That child is wide open, isn’t she?” Hazel Marie said, wiping her eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”

“She is certainly a precocious little thing,” I said. “I think we’ve got our own built-in entertainment, but I’m not sure Lillian thinks so.”

“She feels responsible for her,” Hazel Marie said, still smiling. “And concerned about bringing her into your house. She told me so while we were waiting for the bus.”

“I know,” I said. “We’ll just have to assure her that we don’t mind. And I think Latisha will calm down when she gets used to us. In the meantime, I’m not at all averse to having a little comic relief around here.” Turning to Little Lloyd, I went on. “What did you think of her, Little Lloyd?”

“She’s pretty cute,” he said. “For a girl. But I hope she won’t be following me all the time. That could get old in a hurry.”

“Just give her time, honey,” Hazel Marie said. “I expect Lillian’ll put her in kindergarten, and that’ll take her mind off of you. I think I’m going to enjoy having her around. We need somebody to liven up the place a little.”

And with that, my mind veered onto the Mooney woman and her claim of being one of Wesley Lloyd’s women, of which there seemed to be a growing number if the two I knew about was any indication. So, if Hazel Marie thought we needed livening up, I feared we were in for more than any of us wanted.

When they were all in bed and silence filled the house, I sat in the living room alone, burdened with thoughts of my blindness to Wesley Lloyd’s amorous activities. Lord, it was as if I’d never known the man. And obviously I hadn’t, so taken up with living my own exemplary life that it’d never occurred to me to question his. I wondered why he hadn’t put me aside legally so he could pursue his interests with no fear of a vengeful wife.

But, of course, he’d had no fear of me. I’d given him cover, something he could hide behind, and I now felt that was all he’d ever wanted of me. Even so, I’d had every right to expect fidelity and some semblance of respect from a husband, such as he was. Not that I’d ever been starry-eyed in love—I didn’t know what that meant—but I had devoted the best years of my life to him.

I sighed and leaned my head against the back of the chair. My chest ached, as I thought of how proud I’d been of being the wife of such an influential man. As I thought of how I’d allowed him to take over most of the years of my life, flashes of anger blazed through my mind, not only at him, but at myself, as well. I was as much to blame for my bleak marriage as Wesley Lloyd had been. Well, maybe not as much, but a good bit.

What it came down to was that I had not been able to keep a husband happy at home. Why in the world did I think I could do any better with another one, now that I was old and ugly and on my last legs? I would never be able to redeem the years frittered away on a wayward husband but, Lord knows, I didn’t have to put myself in the way of peril again.

After a few more minutes of self-pitying reflection, I felt a growing conviction that there were still a few things I could do to preserve my dignity and to prevent any other man from pulling the wool over my eyes. And the first thing I did was go to the phone, I didn’t care how late it was.

“Sam?” I said, when he answered, then hesitated to say what had to be said. “We missed you at dinner tonight, and you missed meeting Lillian’s great-granddaughter. You have a treat in store when you do.”

“I look forward to it,” he said. “And I was about to call you, so I’m glad you beat me to it. I thought the Rotary meeting would never end. I kept thinking of you over there all lonely and despondent because you didn’t have me to entertain you.”

I started to smile at his carrying-on, but remembered my new resolve and the reason I’d called him. “You do entertain me, Sam, and I hope you’ll continue to do so, but I want to tell you that I’ve made up my mind and there’ll be no changing it.”

“Well, that lifts my heart, Julia. It’s the best news I’ve ever had. When do you want to do it? The sooner, the better, as far as I’m concerned. And I give you my solemn promise, you won’t regret it.”

“Regret what?”

“Why, marrying me. I’m going to make you happy, Julia. That is my dead-level promise.”

I let the silence lengthen over the line, as I felt my own heart sink to the depths. Tears came to my eyes, and I had to clear my throat before proceeding. “Sam, the reason I called was to tell you that you might as well stop all this marriage talk. I’m not marrying you or anybody. I’ve had enough of that sad state of affairs to last me a lifetime and then some.”

I hung up the phone, and stood over it, thinking that my heart was surely going to break in two. Then I turned off the bell so I wouldn’t hear it ring when he called back.

I suffered through that night, tossing and turning and getting my gown in such a tangle that I almost strangled myself. When it was finally time to rise, I did it with a great deal of creaking and moaning, as I held onto the bedpost to get straightened up. But I did it with a new and firm acceptance of what I knew was the bottom line. There are some women, for whatever reason—upbringing, personality, basic characteristics, or something I couldn’t think of—who just are not cut out to be loved and cherished. And if you find that you’re one of those women, then the thing to do is accept it and concentrate on whatever positive qualities you can find.

I spent some minutes trying to dredge up a few positive qualities of my own, but nothing rose to the surface. I had to face the fact that I was no bargain for any man. But neither had Wesley Lloyd been for me, and neither was any other man I knew. Except Sam, maybe. But then, you never really know a man until you live with him, and by then it’s too late.

Even though my heart was as heavy as a rock and my eyes kept watering up, I was firmly set in my mind not to give another man the chance to do me in ever again. So I girded my loins, so to speak, and went forth with my head held high. There’re worse things in the world than living alone, and one of them is to live with a man who makes a fool of you every time you turn around.

Just as I figured he would, Sam showed up at my door bright and early. Trying to ignore the ache in my chest, I asked him in.

“Lillian has breakfast ready, Sam,” I said. “Come on in and join us.”

“We need to talk, Julia. I can’t leave it at this, not knowing why. Is it something I’ve done? You know I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

“No, Sam,” I said, shaking my head but unable to look at him. One look at his dear face might have persuaded me onto another course, but I knew the futility of that. “It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s all me, but it’s not a good time to talk. Everybody’s up, and we’d have no privacy at all. Come on in and meet Latisha.”

“All right,” he said, steering me with a hand on my back. “But you need to understand that I’m not giving up on you, or taking no for an answer.”

I glanced up at him, steeling my heart against the pain I thought would be evident on his face. Instead, I saw a determined look and, to my amazement, a smile.

“I’ve made up my mind, Sam,” I said, “whether you believe it or not. But I do want us to stay friends.”