Knowing (18 page)

He began to cry too, tears overflowing his red-rimmed eyes. He willed his mind to move his lips. If she only knew how hard he was trying to speak. But he could only stare, his mouth barely open, slightly curved upwards on the left, creasing his smooth face.

The back of Ollie’s wheelchair rested against the window. He shifted his eyes from his wife’s lowered head, her wrinkled hand cupping her mouth, and focused on the shuffling elderly man being escorted by the nurse down the hall. He pitied him. He pitied himself. He pitied all the old-timers who could only look back . . . look back. . . .

A wisp of wintry air seeped through the green canvas curtains onto the back of his neck. Kim wiped her father’s damp face and kissed his moist cheek as she pulled up the collar of his striped terry-cloth robe.

Kim swallowed hard, and willed back the tears that threatened to fall. She put her arm around her mother’s shoulder, shaking her gently. When she glanced into her aunt Katherine’s face, Kim could see that she, too, was crying. Jewel composed herself, then asked Kim and Katherine to give her and Ollie a few moments alone together. There was something important she needed to tell him.

Ollie glanced down at his lower body, silently praying for some kind of evidence that he was still a man. That all of his body hadn’t withered away with age and time. But his penis was nowhere to be found. His manhood had recoiled like a snail. That’s how it will look when I die, he thought.

Jewel formed Ollie’s hands into a steeple, and she held on tight, bowing her head and closing her eyes. “Lord, I need you to bless my husband. He’s a good man, Lord. You asked for commitment of our lives to you; we’ve been faithful Christians. You’ve been generous to us over the years, Lord. And I know this life that we claim as our own belongs to you and is only loaned to us to manage for a while. But please, Lord— grant us a few more years together. Heal him. I know only you can.” She kissed the tips of his fingers, placing them back on his lap.

She saw the hopeful look in his eyes, and a soothing calmness flowed through her body. “Listen to God with your mind; listen to God with your heart. Listen to God speaking to you, and God will be with you. See God in all those you love. Touch God in them and let them touch you.” She smoothed his moist cheeks lovingly. Rising, she bent down to kiss him on the mouth.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to get better, I know it. I love you, honey. I love you so much.” Her voice drifted off as she met his eyes. She began to think what their years of marriage had been like. Looking into his eyes, still youthful and clear, she felt the rapid beating of his heart, then put her arms around him.

“Is everything all right in here, Mrs. Lee?” called a nurse from the doorway.

Jewel looked into her husband’s eyes and smiled. She turned, tears of pleasure streaming down her face. Her heart was so full of love for him. “We’re fine . . . just fine.”

The celery-green floor in the nursing-home waiting room shone like new money, its layers of wax buffed to perfection. Worn beige sofas lined the walls. A black metal magazine rack rested against the receptionist’s counter. Unlike the bland drapes in the patients’ rooms, cheery green, beige, and peach floral drapes graced the windows. The morning’s sunlight poured in through the off-white sheers. A triangular coffee table wedged in the corner was covered with paper cups, plastic spoons, a basket filled with packets of sugar and Cremora, and a commercial-size aluminum coffeepot.

Katherine and Kim headed for the freshly brewed tank, mixed their cups to suit their taste, and sat hands apart on the sofa. “At least the coffee’s good,” said Kim, resting her head back against the wall. “Aunt Katherine, I just don’t know what to say to Mama anymore. Daddy’s getting worse and worse.”

Katherine rocked back and forth, smoothing her knees with her large hands. “Sometimes it’s better to say nothing.”

As Kim rose to refill her cup, Katherine handed her hers. “I could use a cold beer, but since there seems to be none available, I’ll settle for a second cup. Puts lots of cream in mine,” Katherine added.

Kim turned to face her aunt, a worried expression on her face. “Aunt Katherine,” she heaved, her large breasts rising and falling slowly, “I’m worried about Mama, too.”

“Why on earth —”

“Wait ’til I tell you what she was doing when I got home last night. She . . .”

“Didn’t you and Ginger get home around twelve-thirty?” Kim nodded. “And Jewel was still up?”

“Up and painting.”

“Painting.”

“Painting her bedroom with the heat all the way up to a hundred and five degrees.”

“What!” exclaimed Katherine, nearly choking on the hot liquid.

Kim sat back, folding her arms on her lap. “She was stark naked with a plastic trash bag over her with a hole cut out in top for her head.” A gasp echoed from Katherine. “I said, ‘Mama, what you doing up this late painting?’ She said, ‘I’m getting the room ready for Ollie to come home.” Okay, I thought to myself, I can deal with that. ‘Why is the heat up so high, Mama?’ I said. She said, ‘It was cold in here.’ I said, ‘Mama, why don’t you put some clothes on then?’ She said, ‘I don’t want to get any paint on ’em.’ ”

“Bless her soul. This past year has been harder on her than I thought.”

“I finally coaxed her to bed, after reminding her how tired she was going to be when we came to see Daddy this morning. She’d forgotten about the visit today.” Kim sighed deeply, exhaling an abundance of pent-up air. She bit her lower lip until it throbbed like her quickened pulse. “Do you think I should take her in for a complete examination?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” said Katherine in a concerned tone. “I’ll tell you what — give me a few days. I’ll call my doctor at home and see if he can recommend a good doctor. She’s complained to me on more than one occasion that she was unhappy using Ollie’s doctor. Under the circumstances we should find another for her.”

“Aunt Katherine?” Kim asked slowly. “Do you miss Uncle Lewis a lot since he died? I know it sounds like a dumb question, but I’ve wondered how long a time period a person grieved over a loved one.”

“It all depends on how much they happened to love that person. Lewis and I loved each other, but not like your mama and daddy. They’ve shared the kind of love rarely experienced by two people.” A shamed look fell over her face. “I didn’t have that with Lewis.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Katherine.”

“I’ve learned a few things in my lifetime. Most of which I wished I’d known before I married Lewis. Deciding who you marry is the most important decision you’ll ever make. Because marriages are meant to last a lifetime, like your father and mother’s. When they don’t, your children, your neighbors, society, and all the world suffer. They say it’s never too late to heal an injured relationship. God knows I tried everything I knew how to keep Lewis’s and mine together.” Tears formed in her eyes.

“You know, Kim,” she said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, “Ollie and Jewel have real love. The kind of love that stands the test of time. You remember that love affair in
Pretty Woman
?”

“Yeah, that was great. I could watch it over and over again. I loved it. Why can’t life be like that?” said Kim dreamily.

“Because love stories in movies are just figments of someone’s imagination. They’re only single moments in time. Real love in a marriage or relationship works when you make the transition from falling in love to being in love.”

Was that where she and Bill were? Still falling in love, but not yet feeling the commitment of being in love? A vision of love, was that all that her and Bill’s relationship would turn out to be — her vision?

Her mother insisted that what makes the difference in a relationship and binds two people together is a public commitment. An official document. Men and women will always differ on the expectations, negotiations, and transformations in a marriage. But when you commit to marrying someone, it proves you’re willing to go that extra mile to make sure it works. Well, she was not ready for that yet.

After bathing the boys and reading them their nightly bedtime story, Mae Thelma allowed herself to luxuriate in a steamy bubble bath, filled with the sweetness of jonquil-honeysuckle crystals. She relaxed in the solitude of her private little pool until the insides of her fingers crinkled like dried prunes.

Her evening had come to a jarring end because of a shouting match with Robert Earl over the phone. She wound up crying, telling him she’d pray for him. That was all she was able to do. He’d fired his latest court-appointed attorney, and they were running out of options.

Couldn’t he just once think about her? Her loneliness. Needing someone to hold her. To love her. To whisper sweet words in her ears. She’d worked herself to death every evening, cleaning everything she could, so she’d be too exhausted to feel the desire in her young body.

She flipped through the pages of her Bible until she came to the passage she enjoyed reading:

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. Because of the savour of thy good ointments poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the King hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.

I am black, but comely. O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Look upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother’s children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own have I not kept. . . .

Yet, instead of seeing her body lying nude next to the caramel-skinned body of her husband, his straight, jet black hair brushed back close to his head, she saw the rich dark chocolate skin of a man with cropped wiry hair smiling slyly at her through large white teeth.

. . . His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, ’til he please.

Set me a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave; the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it, if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.

. . . Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

Mae Thelma closed the black leather book, smoothing her long fingers along the shiny gold-edged pages. Lying outstretched like an angel on the bed, using the Bible under her head as a pillow, she prayed for forgiveness for the adulterous thoughts that were so vivid in her mind. So real. But when she lifted her head upwards for guidance, her eyes shut tight, and the vision of a tall, dark male reached out his hand, beckoning her to come . . . come to him.

That Sunday, Ginger had a dinner party with Mae Thelma, her boys, Kim, Bill, Katherine, and Autumn. Kim had pleaded with her mother to stay home. Jewel assented, adding that she was a little tired from church this morning. By the time Kim left home at three-thirty that afternoon, Jewel had fallen asleep on the couch, the Bible perched on her lap.

Dinner was a success, thanks to Katherine’s succulent turkey and dressing. Surprisingly, Mae Thelma’s boys weren’t any trouble at all. Bill had spent time telling them stories after they’d finished dessert. Jackson’s name had also been mentioned a lot.

“I’m glad that’s over, Mama,” said Ginger, flopping down at the table. “I thought they weren’t ever going to leave.”

Katherine urged Ginger to rest, placing a cup of hot Lipton tea before her. After putting away the dinner leftovers, Katherine joined Ginger, selecting a glass of Pepsi over a cold brew.

“Given up alcohol, Ma?” said Ginger, lifting an inquisitive brow.

“Just tired of beer for the time being. Haven’t given it up. Just had enough.” Katherine remembered hearing the preacher say today, “Save us Lord, not from
ourselves
, but for
ourselves
.”

Katherine had gotten up for the early-bird service at 7:00 A.M. Ginger could never manage to get the kids ready on Sunday before ten-thirty. The congregation was quickly growing, and it was difficult to get seats at the 11:00 A.M. service. “Does this have anything to do with you and Aunt Jewel going to church this morning? You had an odd expression on your face when you came home. Is something wrong, Mama? Your asthma isn’t acting up again, is it?”

Katherine shook her head. “No to all three questions. As far as church goes, I enjoyed the service. It was uplifting. For me as well as Jewel. Funny how the pastor knows just the right words to comfort you, and Jewel seems better.”

Autumn walked up behind her mother and hugged her around the neck. “Mommy, are the kids coming home tonight?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

Ginger reached her arm around, patting her baby on the back. “Yes, baby. They should be home around eight.” She looked at her watch; it was barely six-thirty. She searched her mother’s eyes for help.

“Autumn, you wanna do Granny a big favor?” Katherine patted her thigh, urging Autumn to take a seat. A smile beamed across the girl’s face, her two pigtails flopping like wings. “Granny’s clothes are downstairs on the ironing board.”

“I know, Granny, you want me to pack your suitcase for you. You going home today, huh?”

“Yep, Granny’s catching a ride back with the kids’ father when he comes so your mommy won’t have to drive seventy miles to take me home.” She kissed her granddaughter on the forehead. “We don’t want to tire your mommy out before your daddy gets home, do we?”

“No, Granny. My daddy said he’s bringing me something special back from his trip.” She turned to look at her mother. “When is Daddy coming home, Mommy?”

“Tuesday, baby. Remember the days of the week you learned at Sleepy Hollow. Today is Sunday —”

“Tomorrow is Monday, and the day after that is Tuesday.” She unfolded her fingers as she counted the days. “That’s three days. Daddy’ll be home in three days with my present.” She drew a large circle with her hands. “And Daddy says it’s big.” She jumped off her granny’s lap and hugged her mother, rubbing noses with her mother and kissing her mother’s buttery cheek.