How to Knock a Bravebird from Her Perch : The First Novel in the Morrow Girls Series (9780985751616) (31 page)

“I can’t help you with that.” He ain’t even have the guts to look me in the eye. Just stood over his desk, shuffling things around. “I can give you some references.”

“What that pay?”

“What? No. I’m saying I can give you good recommendations if you want to apply for other jobs. I’ll tell them how much good you’ve done here. I just can’t take you back, Belinda. It’s not personal.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because.” He sighed. “You know why. I am sorry about what’s happened to you, I am. But it’s not my fault. I’d like for you to sign this agreement.” He pushed the single sheet of paper across his desk to the very edge. “It just says that you won’t be suing the company for any reason.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just please sign it.”

“Then I can come back to work? I gotta have a job. They’re not gonna gimme my kids back if I don’t have a job.”

“No, now sign the damn paper.”
 

I’d never seen him like that. Never heard him take that tone with nobody. Guess I was special. He’d saved it all for me. Even the way his eyes looked at me had changed. Like I was some pesky little fly buzzing around his picnic. He just had to get rid of me. One of his secretaries hurried past the door and we could hear her fussing over the blonde boy with eyes like him. Asking the boy if he wanted anything to go with his potato chips. And I got mad. First time in a long time, I got real mad.

“No.”

“Belinda—”

“I SAID NO! I AIN’T SIGNIN’ NOTHIN’ ‘TIL YOU GET ME MY JOB BACK! And maybe not even then! Nope, not even then. Maybe your boy like to know what his daddy been up to. Maybe it’d do him some good to know...”

“You...” He got so mad he started shaking. Ain’t move from around his desk, just stood there—shaking and breathing. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yeah. You do that. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Was a new kinda feeling having the sorta power to make a man do what I wanted. Walked out the office feeling it in every step. Imagined it was cloaked around me so everybody could see. Got all the way home and it was still there. I was going to get my life back. Felt real hopeful about it as I walked down my block. Wasn’t even expecting any trouble. Was too high on all my power. Ain’t see him until I was right up on my gate. He was sitting on the porch steps, just waiting. The universe sure had a weird way of working things out.
 

“I
DON
’
T
NEED
NO
help. I been carrying groceries all my life.” But that ain’t move him one inch outta my way. Determined. Stubborn ass of a man. I shouldn’t of let him in. Should of made him stand out on the porch like all the other folks come around to peek in on me. I was fine. Just fine. Was about to be better than fine as soon as I got my girls back. “I don’t need no help.”

The winds went howling up and down the street, sending tree branches crashing into the kitchen window. Rattled up against it like a rat trying to claw its way in. Hated rats. Seen enough of them in that horrible little place Ricky and me used to live in. Just thinking about them made my skin crawl all the way up to my ears.

“Belinda.”

What he want with me anyway? Wasn’t like he wasn’t clear from the get-go. He ain’t want no parts of me in no real way. It was fine for him to come around and get my hopes all up, though. Him and all his fancy talk about books and dreams and things. Probably said all the same stuff to women all over the city.

“Belinda.”

“What?” The top of the bag of flour ripped open and out popped a white cloud into the air. It was a brand new bag and I’d meant to put it away in the cabinet but since he was standing there watching me so hard I decided to make fried chicken with it instead. “Excuse me. I gotta get in the fridge.”

“How are you? Where are the girls?”

“Gone.”

“Gone where?” He asked, looking around like maybe they’d shrunk up and was hiding in between the floor tiles. “Belinda—”

“It ain’t none of your business. I don’t need you all up in it. It’s my business. Mine. They mine. Not yours.”

“I thought you might still be mad at me. About before...I’ve been thinking about the...about what to say to you.”

He looked the same. Thin. And smart and kind. I hated that he looked the same. Why did he had to look the same? I ain’t look the same. Not that I was some real sorta beautiful to start with but I sure was a long way from where I started. Back in the days when we were together.

“Belinda, I made a mistake. Before.”

“You can stay for dinner if you want.”

“What?”

“You can stay. I’m making enough. Only because I don’t know how to cook for just one person.”

“Okay.”

So, we sat down to the few leftovers I had in the freezer and some fried chicken. Six empty chairs all around us. And silence. Just chewing and swallowing and the wind blowing against the window. First time Heziah’d been inside my house and wasn’t nothing there but me.

“I’ve been thinking about you. And the girls. I wanted to call but...what happened, Belinda? Where are they?”

“You ain’t read the papers? Read how I’m a terrible mama? How I went crazy and them good upstanding folks took my babies?”

“No.” Heziah’s frown glared down nice and steady on me. “Where’s Ricky?”

“With his woman.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“And say what?”
 

My chicken wasn’t as good as it usually was but he ain’t know that. Just like he ain’t know how to answer my question. Just sat there, chewing one bite after another. What could he say? What was I supposed to say? Tell him how much I missed him and beg him to come back to me? Folks been leaving me my whole life. What made Heziah any different?

“Where are the girls...exactly?”

“Don’t know. Can’t get the trifling woman on the phone. She always too busy to be at her desk. Guess she got too many kids to steal away.”

“Belinda—”

“What?”

“I’m going to help you. Help you get them back.”

“You ain’t gotta...”

“I know that. But I want to. I...I’m sorry I wasn’t there. When you needed me. When they needed me. Wasn’t because I didn’t care about you. You know that, right?”

Why he couldn’t just sit there and eat quietly? Most folks don’t necessarily gotta talk the whole time. They can just sit quiet and eat. Ricky used to sit quiet.

“Belinda? You told me you wanted to be with your husband. Remember that?”

“No.” Of course I did.

“Well, you did.” He looked down at his almost empty plate and pushed some things around. “Wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear but I respected your wishes.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Seem like if you had wanted to be with me, you would’ve called...told me you changed your mind.”

“And we’d both be dead.”

“What’s that mean?”

I ain’t mean it in no fancy literary way. I meant it just like it sounded. Took Heziah a minute to wrap his head around it. Just because he ain’t know Ricky the way I did. He ain’t know Ricky’s mind or his fist. He barely knew enough to pick him out of a crowd full of people. Part of me wanted to keep it that way. Not for Ricky’s sake or nothing but for mine. I was afraid of what would happen to me if I let too many things out. I’d have to deal with what Heziah thought about it all, what he felt. His feelings on top of mine on top of my girls’ was too much. Couldn’t take all that and carry it around with me. So, I scooped up his plate and mine and headed back to the kitchen. He ain’t utter one word, just followed behind me. The rubber bottoms of his shoes squeaking along the lineolum tile.

“Belinda?”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright. Is that your way of asking me to go?”

“Mmhmm.”

My back was to him so I couldn’t see his face, just hear him breathing. In and out. And in and out. Until his hands were on my back, pressing gently like he was admiring it. Breathing in the fabric, brushing his nose against my hair. And I knew exactly what his face looked like. Ain’t even have to turn around to see it. See what he felt. My Heziah, honorable as all get-out, he wouldn’t let himself get too close. Was good for both of us. Lord only knows what would’ve happened. Crossed my mind, though. Crossed it for a good long while. Remembering what it felt like to be in his arms, have him loving all parts of me. Memories, that felt just too real. The dishes slipped from my hands into the sink and I hurried to turn the faucet on so he wouldn’t notice.

“You said something about going crazy.”

“Was just a lot to deal with. That’s all. I needed a break. They ain’t tell me I was gonna lose my kids behind it.”

“Belinda, look at me.”

How I was supposed to look at him and wash dishes at the same time? How I was supposed to keep all them thoughts that was rattling around in my head, keep them straight? He asked a awful lot of me.

“Belinda.”

“What?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“Don’t feel nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Feel like getting my girls back. Ain’t got time to feel nothing else.”

“Does it have to be one or the other? Can’t you feel both? Feel for them and feel for me?”

“What you getting at?” I shook the water from my hands and turned to go back to the dining table for our glasses. He was standing in exactly the same spot when I got back. Hadn’t moved a muscle. Just stood there looking at me with them eyes, only he had. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I love you. I still...”

“Shit.” The drinking glasses splashed into the soapy water, soaking the whole front of my dress.

“Belinda.”

“I heard you. You say you love me.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” He looked like he almost wanted to laugh. “Hmm?”

“No.” I figured Heziah ain’t do things like that. Lie. Wasn’t honorable.
 

“So, aren’t you gonna say something? A man tells a woman he loves her, usually she says something back.”

“Like what?” I wasn’t trying to be hurtful. It just popped out. Course Heizah ain’t know that. He crossed his arms against his chest and took a step back. “Heziah, you don’t wanna love me. Ain’t nothing good ever come from loving me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Where are you getting this?”

“My daddy loved me. He dead. My girls loved me. They gone. Folks that love me don’t get no happy ending. Probably best if you don’t.”

“I don’t buy that. Belinda? Look at me.”

Dishes weren’t gonna wash themselves so I had to get busy. Drove Heziah crazy I could tell but it was better than saying what was on my mind. What I knew would hurt him. To have me say...no...one more time.
 

“Belinda, I’m a patient man.”

“Just go back to your life, Heziah.”

“Why are you trying so hard to push me away? You’re not still mad—I could tell if that was it. You’re not, are you? Leave the damn dishes and talk to me!”

“What you wanna hear? Huh? That I been sitting around waiting for you to come back to me? Want me to get down on my knees and beg you to save me from my wretched life? That what you wanna hear?”
 

I was squeezing the dishtowel so tight that I’d rung all the soapy water out of it. Heziah followed me out into the hall, and watched as I took the mop from the broom closet. I whisked it over the puddle until wasn’t anything left but a shiny circle.

“I told you. I don’t need help. Don’t need no saving.”

“I heard.”

“Good.”

“Belinda—”

“No, you know what?” I stood with one hand holding the mop the other on my hip. “All you men think the same way. That a woman don’t need nothing outside of you. That we supposed to turn ourselves inside out to keep you happy. Well, I ain’t the one! Not no more. I’m done.”

“You sound bitter.”

“Smart is what I am!”

“And hurt.” Heziah reached for me but I stepped back. “Wow. Did I…am I the one that did this to you? I mean…”

I knew what he meant.