God Still Don't Like Ugly (21 page)

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Authors: Mary Monroe

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Contemporary Women, #Romance

BOOK: God Still Don't Like Ugly
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Pee Wee guffawed and held up his hand. “Don’t be clownin’ me, girl.” He paused and got serious. “I was scared to ask you. You and that high-and-mighty Rhoda thought I was a fag. Oh, I know about all them times y’all hid from me. I couldn’t even get you to go to the movies with me—why would I think you’d go to the prom with a ‘fag-ass punk,’ as I overheard you and Rhoda’s brother Jock refer to me one afternoon. I just happened to be listening outside Rhoda’s bedroom door that day.”

GOD STILL DON’T LIKE UGLY

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“You know Jock was crazy and mean, even before he got injured in Vietnam. I was just gossiping along with him so he wouldn’t get mad at me.” I lowered my head and bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“Well, why did you invite me to the prom?”

“Because you was the girl I wanted to take. Besides, Nadine had asked me to go with her, I didn’t ask her. It took me a whole day to get up enough nerve to ask you. And even then I had to smoke a joint.”

I looked over at Pee Wee and blinked stupidly. “I know you don’t like Jerome. But, can’t you be happy for me? Life is too short and I’ve spent enough of mine being miserable.”

A sad look crossed Pee Wee’s face—a face that I noticed was getting better-looking each day. . . .

“Did I ever make you miserable?” he asked.

“No, but you know what I mean. I want you to be happy for me,” I wailed.

“I am. I just don’t want to see you end up regrettin’ nothin’.”

“I’m thirty-five, Pee Wee. And, look at me. I am no Diana Ross.

How many more chances will I get to marry?”

“Well, do you see Marvin Gaye, may he rest in peace, sittin’ up in here with you? Women ain’t standin’ in line waitin’ on me. Don’t I deserve a chance?”

I gasped. “A chance for what?”

“I want somebody to cook and clean for me and keep me warm at night when I crawl into the bed. Shit.” Pee Wee looked at me with an anxious look on his face. I had to say the most appropriate and non-committal thing possible for his benefit, as well as mine.

I sighed. “Get a maid and some woolen pajamas.”

Pee Wee rolled his eyes, let out a groan, and offered me an easy smile that he promptly replaced with a moderate scowl. “I always thought that one day . . . you know. Oh, hell, girl. How come you ain’t marryin’
me
?”

I laughed and waved my finger at Pee Wee. “Be serious. And stop spilling beer on my clean carpet!”

“Why won’t you marry me?” he whined. “I ain’t good enough for you?” A puppy-dog expression appeared on his face. “I know I’m a little on the dark side and my hair looks like Nap City, but I ain’t no bad dude to look at. And you know I can afford to support you in style. A woman like you deserves the best and I should be the one to give it to you. Not what’s-his-butt. Shit.”

164

Mar y Monroe

I stared at Pee Wee with my mouth hanging open, giving him one of the most exasperated looks I could come up with. I didn’t appreciate him joking with me about something as serious as marriage. But the days of us being alone in my house were numbered so I decided to humor him. “And just why in the world would you want to marry me
now
? I’ve known you most of my life.”

Pee Wee shrugged and chuckled. “Looks like I’m goin’ to be stuck with you the rest of my life anyway. I ain’t movin’ from my house, you ain’t movin’. We’ll probably be livin’ next door to one another from now on anyway.” Pee Wee paused and clapped his hands together, then started rubbing his palms together. “Just think of all the money we’d save if I moved in with you or if you moved in with me.”

“Now you sound like Jerome.” I laughed.

“I ain’t Jerome.”

“Look, let’s pop open another beer before Jerome gets here.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll go over to the poolroom for a while.” Pee Wee rose and stretched. I walked him to the door, my arm around his waist. I was disappointed when he pulled away from me.

“You know I was just jokin’ about us gettin’ married, don’t you?”

“I know you were,” I said. “You always could make me laugh, even when I didn’t want to.”

CHAPTER 41

Ilooked around my living room to make sure that I had not overlooked any empty beer cans or other trash. This was going to be an important night for Jerome and me so I wanted everything to be perfect, or as close to it as possible. He was coming by later to pick me up for a dinner at his mother’s house, where I would be presented to some of his other relatives.

I promptly forgot about the clumsy conversation I had just had with Pee Wee. I laughed when I thought of him marrying me. It was a bizarre joke. But after thinking about it some more, it didn’t seem so funny.

And the thought of having to clean up behind Pee Wee made me howl. In all the years I’d known him, I’d only been inside his house a dozen times. Even before his daddy moved away back to Pennsylvania, every room in Pee Wee’s house looked like a crime scene.

There was so much junk piled up in his three bedrooms, he couldn’t even shut the doors. His kitchen sink was usually full of dirty dishes.

The last time I’d visited him, I had to sit on the floor because there had been no room on any of his seats. If Pee Wee and I ever did get married, which was highly unlikely, I would have my work cut out for me every day.

But the same was true of Jerome, in a way.

I didn’t think about it a lot, but I knew that Jerome’s stinginess was 166

Mar y Monroe

going to cause problems in our future. He got tears in his eyes one night when I told him I wanted to enroll all the children we planned to have in private schools. Whenever Jerome didn’t want to argue with me, he lured me to bed where I ended up purring like a kitten.

After a few perfunctory thrusts, he stood up in my bed naked and told me, “I’d rather teach my kids at home before paying somebody to teach them.”

I was truly going to miss the great sex I had shared with Pee Wee. I was sorry that we had not gotten together “one last time” before my wedding. But it was too late now. Looking on the bright side, there was always a chance that Jerome’s bedroom techniques would improve over the next forty or fifty years, if we lived that long and remained faithful to one another. It was a depressing thought, but it was all I had to go on.

Jerome got stuck in traffic going to and coming from the airport in Akron to pick up his Uncle Willie from Columbus. He called me from a pay phone on his way back.

In one long breath, he told me, “Baby, put on your best dress. That yellow one, because it makes you look like a sunflower. I want you to look your best for Uncle Willie. He can’t wait to meet you. The way I’ve been bragging about you, he said you got a lot to live up to.

Mama’s running around in the kitchen right now, cooking up a storm.

My sister Nadine’s making a pound cake. Aunt Minnie’s driving over all the way from Sandusky in her brand-new Ford. She just got a face-lift so tell her how good she looks. We’ll pick you up and by the time we get to Mama’s house, dinner will be ready. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, Jerome.”

Jerome had a key to my house so he let himself in while I was still getting dressed. He raced upstairs and into my room. He stopped dead in his tracks and let out a long, low wolf whistle as he rubbed his palms together.

“Girl, I am scared of you.” He tilted his head, folded his arms, and smacked his lips. “Every time I look at you, I tell myself I’m the lucki-est man alive.”

I grinned demurely as Jerome rushed over to zip up my dress. I had to pry his arms from around my waist so I could get my shoes out of the closet.

“Hurry up, baby. Uncle Willie’s in the car and we need to stop by GOD STILL DON’T LIKE UGLY

167

the liquor store to pick up some champagne. Uncle Willie is spring-ing for the best.” Jerome whistled and rubbed his hands together again. “Girl, I can’t wait to get you back here to myself. I won’t eat much at Mama’s house because I’m going to
feed
on you later on tonight.”

“You stop that,” I snapped, slapping Jerome’s hand as he massaged my butt.

I let out a deep breath as I wiggled my feet into the black pumps I had fished out of the closet. “I don’t like these frequent gatherings, Jerome. I’m nervous enough around your family as it is.”

Jerome waved his hands above his head. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about around my folks. Now come on. Uncle Willie’s been complaining about his butt getting numb from sitting so long, all the way from the airport. I know what he needs. He needs him a juicy-butt woman to get his blood circulating. He almost got whiplash trying to look at this big-legged sister standing in front of the Red Rose. I tease him all the time about him fucking my aunt to death.

She died while he was on top of her. What a sight that was. It took three of us to lift that big sister out of that bed.”

I gave Jerome a serious look. “Do all of the men in your family prefer big-boned women?”

“I already told you we did. Uncle Willie, with his hot-natured self, loves him some big women! I’m going to have to keep my eye on him around you. I have to warn you, Uncle Willie is quite a ladies’ man.

Even though there is enough of you for both of us, you are all mine.

Now let me warn you about my uncle. Uh, he didn’t finish high school, so he’s not that sophisticated. He talks rough sometimes and he acts even rougher. But he’s a proud man and he deserves the highest respect.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle your uncle,” I said, patting my hair. To look less ethnic, I had removed my braids. I had to agree with Jerome that I looked better with my hair in a French twist and bangs. Even though this particular “do” made me look my age.

Jerome kissed me on my neck and gave me another squeeze around my waist. “Girl, you just wait ’til I get you back to this house to myself. I’m going to have you screaming like somebody scalded you.”

I groaned and made a mental note to come up with a mysterious, fictitious,
untreatable
pelvic condition so I wouldn’t have to have sex 168

Mar y Monroe

with Jerome too often in the future. I already had him thinking that my periods lasted twice as long as they really did. Like Mr. Boatwright, Jerome was a man who couldn’t stand to get too cozy with a bloody woman.

“Let’s go, baby,” I said, running out the door behind him.

I saw Pee Wee peeping out of his living window with a disgusted look on his face as I sashayed out to Jerome’s car with my coat in one hand and a sweet potato pie in the other. Jerome was carrying my purse.

The huge, red-faced man sitting in the front passenger’s seat of Jerome’s car looked at me and did a double take. His eyes got big as saucers as his face froze with his mouth hanging open like a trapdoor.

I stopped dead in my tracks, almost choking on my own tongue.

With my mind a whirl of confusion and fear, I thought back to a night seventeen years ago. Not having the insight back then to know that my actions might someday come back to haunt me, I had sold my body to every man willing to pay. Jerome’s Uncle Willie had been one of those men. The last one. He was the same night watchman who had used me and treated me so rudely afterward. It was like I got tun-nel vision all of a sudden for just a few seconds. All I could see was that man sitting there glaring at me. My legs almost buckled. I shook my head and blinked my eyes a few times.

I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to drop dead on the spot from shame. I wanted Pee Wee to get out of his window and come out and rescue me.

“What’s wrong, baby? You look like you just saw Caesar’s ghost.”

Jerome opened the back door of his car and pulled my arm, guiding me like I was a blind person. But I remained in the same spot, shaking like a sumac leaf. My feet felt as heavy as cement blocks.

“I don’t feel well,” I mumbled. There was a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach. I couldn’t tell which one felt worse. “Maybe I should stay home.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the man in the car and he couldn’t take his eyes off me. I stumbled back a few steps.

“Stop acting crazy. Don’t you want to make a good impression on Uncle Willie? He’s paying for the other half of that cruise you’re so determined for us to go on,” Jerome said impatiently. His fingers dug into my flesh as he pulled me toward the car again.

I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I managed to get into the car, folding myself onto the backseat like a sack of sand. Jerome GOD STILL DON’T LIKE UGLY

169

briefly introduced me to his uncle and was gracious enough to keep the conversation going all the way to his mother’s house. I said less than five words as Jerome bragged about what a beautiful, decent, hard-working, clean, generous, and sexy woman I was.

“Uncle Willie, ain’t this woman something else? I can’t wait for you to get to know her as well as I do,” Jerome said, talking so fast he had to cough to catch his breath.

Mr. Willie turned around and gave me a sharp look, shaking his head as he spoke. “I can’t wait,” he growled, his lips snapping brutally over each word. “She sure enough is somethin’ else.” He glared at me some more, shook his head, and turned back around.

CHAPTER 42

As usual, most of Jerome’s female relatives ignored me. Even though I was practically a member of the family now. However, his sister Nadine was her usual cordial self to me. She always attempted to pull me into a conversation no matter what the subject was.

“Annette, I can certainly tell you’re a woman in love. Your face is just glowing,” Nadine told me in her nasal voice.

I had not secured another close Black female friend after Rhoda. I hoped that one day soon, Nadine would fill that position. Nadine and I had already spent several Saturday afternoons shopping in Cleveland, getting our nails and hair done and going to lunch together. I looked forward to the day I could introduce her to my newly found sister, Lillimae.

Nadine and Lillimae made me realize how wonderful it was to have females to bond with. But it saddened me to know that I could never replace Rhoda. As much as I loved Lillimae and Nadine, I could never feel as free with them the way I had felt with Rhoda.

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