God Ain't Blind (27 page)

Our house was in the middle of our block. As soon as I turned onto Reed Street, I could see Pee Wee’s car parked in front of the house. And from the looks of things, he had parked it in one hell of a hurry. One of the front tires was on the sidewalk. Right behind his Firebird was Rhoda’s husband’s Jeep. Otis had become so set in his ways and predictable, I could read him like a script. He visited only when he and Pee Wee wanted to sit around and drink beer and look stupid. And since Otis was the lead foreman at the Patterson Street Steel Mill, he could come and go as he pleased.

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The last thing I expected to see in my own living room was a strange man stretched out on my sofa, with a can of beer in one hand and the telephone in the other.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, walking toward him, with my hands on my hips.

“Me? Who de hell are
you
?” he had the nerve to ask. He gave me an annoyed look as he whispered into the telephone before he hung up.

“I happen to be the owner of this house!” I hollered, looking toward the kitchen.

Rhoda’s husband, Otis, suddenly appeared in the living-room doorway. He shuffled into the room, with his shirt unbuttoned and his belly hanging over the top of his pants like a short apron. Like Pee Wee, Otis had let himself go to the dogs. His shoulder-length dreadlocks were almost completely gray and so matted, I couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. His once handsome face was now hard, with hollowed-out cheeks and sunken eyes. It was hard to believe that forty-six years could do that much damage to a man who had once been so handsome. Now he looked bad enough to haunt a house. With a gremlin like him for a husband, it was easy to understand why Rhoda maintained a lover! He was the man on my sofa that I had not recognized, Ian “Bully” Bullard of London, England, by way of Montego Bay, Jamaica.

“Oh, ho! You are Annette! How cheeky of me not to realize it was you!” he shouted. At forty-nine, Bully was more handsome than ever and still had the body of a prizefighter. He and Otis were originally from Jamaica, but Bully had lived in England so long, his accent had become a combination of Jamaican and English. He had been Otis’s best friend for decades and Rhoda’s lover for almost as long.

“Bully, I’m sorry,” I said, grinning. I reached out to shake his hand, but he gave me a bear hug instead. His embrace was powerful and comforting. This was what a woman liked. Not those little pats on the shoulder or the jaw that I got from my husband.

Bully had been an off-and-on houseguest at Rhoda’s residence for most of this year and the year before, but I hadn’t seen much of him during the last few months. And he wore a mustache now, which was why I had not recognized him immediately.

202

Mary Monroe

“You’ve become quite dry since de last time I saw you,” Bully said, leaning back to look me over. He thumped both of my cheeks with his fingers, like he was inspecting a cantaloupe. For the first time in my life, my face was lean enough so that my cheekbones stood out prominently. Bully shrieked and jumped back like I’d bitten him. “Are you all right? What was it?” he asked, with a look of pity on his face.

I never could figure out why the first thing people thought when somebody they knew had lost a lot of weight was that there was something physically wrong with that person. Because I had eliminated so many pounds, I was in better shape now than I’d ever been in my life. Two doctors had told me that. I had more energy than I’d had since I was a teenager, and my blood pressure and cholesterol were finally at normal levels.

“Jesus surely must have wept for you,” Bully said, shaking his head. He turned to Pee Wee, who had moved to the middle of the living-room floor.

The way Pee Wee was clutching his can of beer with both hands, you would have thought it was his dick. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just stopped gobblin’ up so much food. That’s all,” he had the nerve to say. “Baby, what are you doin’ home so early?” He looked at his watch and snorted like a bull.

“I came home because I was worried about you,” I said, glaring at him. “I kept calling and calling, and you didn’t answer.”

“Oh, was that you? I thought it was that fool boy Bobby at the shop, so I didn’t pick up,” said Pee Wee. He gave me a look that was so smug, it made my stomach turn. “I turned off the answerin’

machine, too. I didn’t want to be bothered.”

“Apparently!” I hollered. “I just hope none of the calls you ignored were from your daughter.”

“How could she call? I thought you told Rhoda that your mum and dad and de little one was out on a boat for a while,” Otis inter-jected. “Which is a shame, because they can’t be reached to hear about Jade’s wedding in time to come, eh?”

“Uh, that’s right,” I muttered. One of the biggest problems I had with telling lies was that if I didn’t keep them straight, I had to tell even more lies to keep the first one on track. “My folks can’t be reached. . . .”

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“Baby, you want a beer?” Pee Wee asked me, shaking his can in my direction.

“No, I don’t want a beer. I want to know what’s going on. Rhoda told me she saw you at the drugstore, getting a prescription filled.”

I saw no reason to tell him that I had called his work and been informed that he’d gone home sick.

“Well, if she had asked me, I would have told her that I was pickin’

up some more of that salve to send to Charlotte for that rash she keeps gettin’ on her legs and arms from them eels she can’t seem to stay away from. Your mama called the other day and told me to pick it up and send it down there by FedEx.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” I replied. His explanation made sense, but it didn’t explain why he had lied to his workers about going home sick. I knew that Otis was his close friend and drinking buddy. So he didn’t have to lie because he wanted to spend some time with him. And besides, Pee Wee was self-employed and could do as he pleased. “Well, I have plans for this evening. I’ll let you enjoy your company in peace.”

Pee Wee was quite indifferent about me leaving the house again so soon. Not that he could have stopped me, anyway. I excused myself and got back into my car and slammed the door shut so hard, the windows rattled.

I drove past Rhoda’s house, hoping she’d see me and come outside. I didn’t want to take a chance and call her house again and risk having to suffer through another unpleasant encounter if Jade answered the telephone.

I didn’t see Rhoda, and her SUV was not in the driveway, like it usually was. But her future son-in-law was sitting on the front porch steps, alone.

Not only did Marcelo look like a man who didn’t have a friend in the world, but he looked like a man who was awaiting his own execution.

C H A P T E R 4 1

Idrove around for about an hour before I pulled into the parking lot of the Grab and Go convenience store on Liberty Street, near Rhoda’s house. I needed to purchase a few things, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go at the spur of the moment.

As I was collecting my items, I thought about paying a visit to Miss Rachel’s, the beauty shop where I got my hair done, so I could catch up on my gossip. That idea didn’t appeal to me for too long.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I really wasn’t in the mood to sit around with a bunch of women, listening to them verbally crucify almost everybody I knew. By now they’d have all heard about Jade’s upcoming wedding. It would no doubt be the main course on their shit list. I certainly didn’t want to hear any more news about Jade anytime soon.

Just as I was about to leave the store, with the sugarless gum, de-odorant, eyedrops, grape Slurpee, and some condoms—Louis forgot to bring some the last time—that I’d purchased, somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I whirled around to see one of the last faces I wanted to see.

“Hi, Wyrita,” I muttered. I struggled to hide my irritation as I attempted to ease toward the exit.

Wyrita had on a pair of flip-flops, but that didn’t stop her from GOD AIN’ T BLIND

205

goose-stepping up to my side, blocking the door so I couldn’t escape. I suddenly felt like I was a hostage. “Girl, what do you think about Jade getting married, with her lazy self? She won’t wash a dish, vacuum a floor, or do nothing else that a good wife is supposed to do. What kind of wife is she going to make?” Wyrita had a basket in her hand that contained a bottle of wine, several cans of sardines, and a large bag of Fritos. She lived just a block away, so I wasn’t surprised to see her in a housecoat, with rollers in her hair. “And to a Mexican at that. Them hot-blooded Spanish dudes is mucho macho.

He ain’t going to put up with her shit. He’ll be whupping her happy ass left and right in no time.”

“Well, I just hope she’ll be happy,” I replied, and I truly meant that. As bleak as my opinion was of Jade, I still believed that she had at least one good bone in her body.

“Me, I’m going to make some man a damn good wife. I’m going to show you and everybody else. Especially the folks that laugh at me when I tell them that I’m going to be a perfect wife, like you.”

I had to blink to hold back my tears. What Wyrita had just said was one of the nicest things anybody had ever said about me. I was truly touched. “You think that I’m the perfect wife?”

“Think? Uh-uh, honey chile. I
know
you are the kind of wife I want to be like. You got it all figured out. I’ve heard other folks say the same thing about you.”

I had to blink some more. I knew that if I didn’t leave that store soon, I was going to have to go back and buy some Kleenex tissue.

I was just that close to tears. “Wyrita, it was so nice to see you again, and thank you for saying such nice things about me. I really appreciate hearing that.” Wyrita had moved from in front of the exit, so I started to move toward it again. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“I hope Jade likes the salad bowl I got for her. I got it at Kmart for two dollars, but I stuck a forty-dollar Macy’s tag on it. Then I put it in a Macy’s gift box. Lizel got her a gift certificate to go to a spa after her honeymoon.”

Wyrita followed me to my car, still talking. “And Marcelo is such a nice, easygoing man. I’m going to Mexico on my cruise for sure this Christmas. I’m going to bring me a Mexican back home with me, if it’s the last thing I do. If Jade can get one, I know I can.”

206

Mary Monroe

“I hope you will,” I said, climbing into my car. Wyrita was still talking, so I had to roll down my window after I started my motor.

“And guess what? Lizel’s been trying to play matchmaker for me and Louis Baines, that fine-ass catering brother!” she yelled.

No, she didn’t say
that
! Yes, she did. Lizel was trying to hook Wyrita up with Louis. I wasted no time turning off my motor. “Oh?

And are you interested in Louis Baines?” The last thing I wanted to deal with was competing with an attractive younger woman for Louis’s attention. My heart began to beat about a mile a minute as I awaited her response.

“He is cute, but I keep telling Lizel that he ain’t my type. I heard he was gay, anyway. Ain’t nobody never seen him with no woman, so he must be.” Wyrita was clearly disgusted by the thought of Louis being a candidate for the husband she so desperately wanted.

“I heard that same thing myself,” I said, trying to sound as disgusted as Wyrita. “Maybe he is.” I started my motor again. I couldn’t get out of that parking lot fast enough.

I was glad to see that there were no cars parked in the vicinity of my residence when I reached my street. But I entered my living room with caution, anyway. Pee Wee had left the lights on in the living room and the kitchen. I was disappointed to see that the answering machine did not display any messages. My disappointment turned to anger when I saw that he had not turned the machine back on. There was no telling who had called. I could have missed all kinds of important calls! There was only one way to find out, and that was to call up some of the people I thought might have tried to reach me. . . .

“Did you call me?” I asked Louis as soon as he picked up his telephone.

“No, but I wanted to. I hope you are calling to tell me you want to be with me tonight,” he said hopefully.

“I can’t do that, but I will make up for it,” I said, slowly sitting on my sofa. Something was poking me in the butt, so I had to wiggle around until I could retrieve it. I was annoyed to find an empty beer can in my living room, between the pillows on my sofa at that.

“I just wanted to hear your voice. Is this a bad time?” I added, setting the beer can on the floor.

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“There is never a bad time for you to call me,” Louis told me.

One thing I had to give this man credit for was the fact that he always knew what to say and when to say it. “I’ve got all the time in the world for you, baby.” That was what I was talking about! The man truly had a way with words.

“I have to tell you right now that if you were not going to be at Jade’s wedding, I wouldn’t go,” I confessed. “You know how I feel about that girl, and you know why.”

“Sweetie, I know you are angry, and you have every right to be.

But at some point, you have to let it go. The important thing is for you not to ever let yourself get in the position for shit like that to happen again.”

“That’s easy for you to say. She didn’t hurt you,” I protested.

“But she’s still hurting you, and as long as you carry that anger, she will.”

“Look, Louis, I do know what you are trying to say, and someday I will let go of my anger toward Jade. But what she did to me is still too fresh in my mind. Now that she is back in town and has already pissed me off, it’s going to be that much harder to get over my anger.”

“Don’t let her win, Annette. Don’t let her destroy you. That’s what she wants. I know just how you feel. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.” Louis paused and let out some air. “You see, I’ve been betrayed, too,” he continued, his voice cracking. “Like you, somebody I once loved hurt me clean to the bone.”

“You? What happened?” The more Louis revealed about himself, the more comfortable I felt about him.