Cavedweller (56 page)

Dede stood up and walked to the door, her back to Delia.

“You understand what I am telling you?” Delia’s question was sudden and urgent.

Dede turned around. “Some,” she said. “You been telling us stuff all my life.”

“What I’m trying to make you understand is that you can’t shut your life down because of what happened to me.” Delia rubbed her arms again, her glance carefully averted. “You don’t have to marry Nolan, but you can’t deny what you feel. You love him, you get mad at him, you get scared. Don’t lie to yourself or him. Don’t run away anymore.”

“Like you?”

Delia opened her mouth, then shut it. She stood and went to Dede. She put her arms around her daughter and her lips to her forehead. “Like me,” she said in a whisper. “Like me.”

 

 

A
manda was waiting for Delia downstairs at the courthouse. Delia walked toward her on leaden feet. Her face had changed, Delia saw. It seemed fuller, the mouth less tightly compressed, the eyes softer.

“Don’t let them put her in the hospital,” Amanda said in a rush. “I know Emmet was talking about it, and it’s not a good idea. The state Dede’s in, she could wind up committed, and we’d have a terrible time getting her out again.”

Delia frowned. “She needs help,” she said in a tired voice.

“Yes.” Amanda nodded. “She does, but let’s not get her in more trouble than she’s in already.” Amanda had a notebook in her hand and was turning pages. “I already called George Creighton from the Baptist Fellowship. He’s a good lawyer, and he knows about these things. He said every hour that passes helps us. Dede has said she’s sorry. Nolan’s thrown a fit at Emmet. We handle this right, and Dede can be home in a week.”

Delia looked doubtful. “I don’t know. She did shoot him.”

Amanda smoothed the pages of her notebook. “Yes, she did, and we all agree that she needs help, but Bartow County Medical won’t do a thing but feed her drugs and make her worse. What Dede needs is for us to think clearly.”

Delia studied Amanda’s face again. “You’re right.”

“And I think she’s pregnant,” Amanda said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“She hasn’t said a word.”

“Dede wouldn’t, and I don’t blame her. You take a look at Nolan. You’ll see he thinks so too. I could tell when I spoke to him. He’s waiting for her to tell him.”

“Nolan said Dede was pregnant?” Delia wanted to sit down. She wanted to put her head between her knees.

“He didn’t say so, but I could tell he thinks so.” Amanda was losing her patience. “It had to happen sooner or later, you know.”

“She didn’t say a thing.”

“Delia.” Amanda closed her notebook. “I suspect Dede doesn’t want to think about it right now. You know how she feels about marriage. Dede’s turned living in sin into a matter of principle.”

“Oh my Lord. No wonder she shot him.”

Amanda smiled. “Almost makes a kind of sense, doesn’t it? When you know Dede.”

Delia looked at Amanda. “She might not want it,” she said carefully.

Amanda dropped her gaze and drew a deep breath. “I know, and that’s something I am not going to think about right now. Dede’s difficult, but she’s not evil. She’ll do the right thing if we help her.”

“Amanda.” Delia’s voice broke when she said the name. “Amanda, you never fail to surprise me.” She put her arm around her daughter’s stiff shoulders, holding on until the body softened slightly in her embrace.

“We have things to do,” Amanda said brusquely, pulling free. “Lots of things.”

 

 

B
ack in her cell, Dede remembered the picture of Mud Dog that she’d cut out of an old
Rolling Stone
she’d found at Crane’s when she was nine or ten. She hadn’t looked at it since she’d moved in with Delia. It was a shot of the bus with the equipment piled high and everybody standing around and
Diamonds and Dirt
lettered on half the drum covers. Booger and Little Jimmy were leaning against the rear of the bus, sharing a joint. Randall was up front in his suede fringed vest. Round tinted glasses hid his pupils, but his smile was huge and toothy. Delia stood next to Rosemary, hair down loose and long, belly swelling up against a patchwork skirt with a velvet waistband. It was the textures that stood out in that picture, the feel of stoned confidence and the nap of the velvet and the sway of the fringe over Randall’s belt buckle. It was a cliché almost before it was published. For all the success of
Diamonds and Dirt,
Mud Dog was a second-rate band that became legendary only when it no longer existed. What was memorable about the picture was the time-capsule effect, a frozen moment in a fable. Dede had stared at it for hours—her mama with that man, the hippie prince and the runaway wife, and Cissy implicit in the swell of Delia’s belly. She had shown the picture to Cissy once, but Cissy wasn’t interested.

Dede wished she had a picture of Delia and Clint before she and Amanda were born—the two of them in one moment of happiness. Cissy didn’t understand. There was something essential about seeing Randall and Delia like that, and Cissy there too, on her way before she was anywhere. It was as if Dede could see herself in that picture as well, her ghost there beside Cissy in Delia’s belly.

It was a song, that picture. It was a piece of Delia’s blues, the story of all of them and what they had made together. Dede looked at it now in her mind’s eye and saw the past and the future, not a band on tour but a family in pieces, pulling itself back together out of one woman’s stubborn determination. I an’t Delia, Dede thought, I an’t that strong, and then she heard Nolan’s voice. Yes you are, he was saying. You are as strong as any man can stand.

“You’re all my heart,” Nolan had said just before Dede shot him. Sitting in jail, Dede knew he was right. She was his heart, and God help her, he was hers.

Y
ou know what my daddy used to tell me?” Tacey said to Cissy that night after they finally got Nadine to bed. ”He used to say white people were simply crazy.”

They were sitting at the kitchen table. Cissy had taken down the bottle of wine that Nadine told her was in the top cupboard. They had each had a glass and started on a second.

Tacey took another sip and leaned her head to one side. “He said black people were crazy too, but we weren’t simple.”

“Yeah,” Cissy agreed. “God knows my whole family is crazy. Probably going to get Dede certified out of this, and Amanda is nuts for sure.”

Amanda came in from the hall that led back to Nolan’s room. “Oh, am I?” And poured a good slug of wine into a water glass.

“How is he?” Tacey was prepared to be diplomatic. “He asleep?”

“He’s drugged.” Amanda rolled her head, and the muscles in her neck made popping sounds. “But he’s fine. Thank the Lord, Dede didn’t have a really big gun. For being shot like that, Nolan’s doing just fine. I think the swelling in his leg is starting to go down. We’ll have a terrible time keeping him in bed tomorrow.”

Amanda frowned down at her wine. “Is this stuff all right? Is it supposed to taste like this?”

Cissy shrugged. “Nadine say how old it was?” she asked Tacey.

“Never mentioned it to me before. Probably thought I’d drink it up and replace it with soda or something.” Tacey sipped. “It might have turned. Seems a little bitter, but what do I know? I don’t drink.” She looked at Amanda. “Didn’t think you did either.”

“I’m taking it up,” Amanda said. “Had a drink yesterday with Cissy. Going to do it regular from now on. I’m studying on sin. I’m studying on how it works.”

“Amanda, you scare me,” Tacey said.

“I know. I scare myself sometimes, but I’m trusting in the Lord. Figure I’m human and flawed and need His help. I’m just figuring

things out as I go.“ She took a gulp of wine. “Those girls called you here,” she said to Cissy. “Called twice, wanting to know what was going on. Said you were supposed to meet them this evening.”

“Oh Lord! I forgot to call them. We were going to map Little Mouth. We were going to stay out overnight.”

Amanda shook her head. “I will never understand you, Cissy. What on earth are you doing, climbing down into what might as well be the outer gates of hell? And Mary Martha Wynchester said you quit your job at the real estate office.”

Cissy nodded. “I did. I hate realtors. I hated that job.”

Amanda sat down at the table. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to think about it.” Cissy looked at Tacey and then at Amanda. “Before all this happened, Nolan told me Dede wasn’t happy, that she wanted to be doing something different. It sounded like he was thinking the same thing. He was talking about taking a job in Atlanta.”

“Yeah,” said Tacey. “He told me that too, and I told him to look me up at Spelman.”

“Well, it shook me.” Cissy toyed with the empty glass. “Funny how you go along and you get settled and you never think about things changing. Then this happened, and I realized things were changing anyway.” She raised the glass to Amanda. “I’m thinking. Studying on things, like you. Time for me to make some plans of my own.”

“Long as you stop running around with those girls.” Amanda’s face assumed a familiar pinched expression. “There’s something not right about them.”

“Oh, they’re just like everybody else,” Cissy said. “They an’t any more crazy than you or me.”

“Is that so? Well, I saw them sitting in that truck the last time you went out with them, you know. I saw them sitting close together. That tall one put her arm around the other one, leaned over, and kissed that girl right on the mouth. Looked to me like they’re considerably more crazy than you.”

Cissy watched Amanda refill her glass. Kissing? Mim and Jean had been kissing?

“I think they’re lesbians,” Amanda said with authority.

“Lesbians?” Tacey snorted. “For God’s sake, don’t tell Nadine. She’ll invite them over and ask them to talk about it. Bad enough she still thinks I sleep with the garbage men. She’ll be sure I sleep with the lesbians too.”

“You don’t know anything about them, Amanda.” Cissy felt sick. She had the strongest desire to lean over and slap her sister.

“I know what I saw, and I bet you know too. You been spending all that time with them. You tell us. Don’t they live together? Don’t they kiss and hug all the time? Didn’t they ask you to start this club with them so they wouldn’t have to join the one that has all the boys in it? You going to tell me I’m wrong?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Cissy stood up and shoved her chair back. “You should be home with your own boys, not here telling me all this crap.”

“Michael’s got the boys. They’re fine. Don’t tell me about my boys.”

“Don’t you tell me about my life.”

“I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about those girls.”

“Well, don’t. Talk about me.” Cissy felt as if Nadine’s wine had turned to poison in her belly. “Maybe I’m a lesbian too.”

“Maybe you are,” Amanda said flatly. “I always knew there was something wrong with you. Figured sooner or later you’d get around to telling us, probably at the worst possible moment—when your sister is in jail and we’re all just about worn down to nothing.”

Amanda rested her elbows on the table, the glass of wine in both hands. I really should hit her, Cissy thought, but she could not move.

“I think we should get some rest.” Tacey put both hands flat on the table and pushed herself up. “I think tomorrow is going to be difficult enough without all of us going crazy on each other.”

“I don’t know what I am,” Cissy said through clenched teeth. “I an’t got God on my shoulder telling me to take a drink of wine and push my sister around. I an’t got a gun in my pocket. I an’t got nothing-not one notion what I am going to do with my life-but if you ever come at me again, Amanda Graham, I’ll push you so hard you’ll need God to pick you up. I’ll push you so you’ll know you been pushed!”

“I rented a car.” The voice was soft and startling. All of them turned to the door. Rosemary stood there with an overnight case in one hand and the other against the doorjamb. “You going to invite me in or yell at each other some more?”

“Jesus Lord!”

“You must be Tacey.” Rosemary stepped in and dropped her case on the floor. “I’m Rosemary. Delia tell you I was coming?”

Tacey shut her mouth and nodded. This was Rosemary! This woman was Delia’s friend from Los Angeles.

Rosemary sighed heavily and pulled up a chair. “I think you should sit down,” she said to Cissy. “And maybe one of you could tell me where Delia is. I went over to the house, but she wasn’t there. Figured you would all be here.”

Amanda stuttered when she spoke. “Delia’s at Judge Walmore’s, talking to him about getting Dede out of jail.”

“So she should be back soon. It’s pretty late.” Rosemary opened her purse and took out her lighter and cigarette case. “Is it all right if I smoke in here?” she asked Tacey.

“Yes,” said Tacey, who couldn’t stand cigarette smoke.

“Thanks.” Rosemary lit up and looked at Amanda and Cissy. “You’re still fighting,” she said. “Well, at least some things can be trusted to remain the same, huh?” She blew out smoke. “You want to come over to your mama’s place with me, Cissy? Maybe we should be there to meet her.”

Cissy lifted her head. Tacey was staring at Rosemary in happy fascination. The woman did not look a day older than she had when Clint died. Her hair was beautifully styled and her skin glowing, her nails perfectly done. Around her neck was the same gold necklace, wide and gleaming in the light from the overhead fixture.

“Yeah,” Cissy said. “We should go.”

Both of them were silent on the short walk down Terrill Road from Nolan’s house to Delia’s. When they got there, Cissy ran ahead to turn on the porch light and promptly tripped on the bottom step.

“Shit!” she cursed.