Mama Cracks a Mask of Innocence (14 page)

“You’ve been sitting here all night?” I teased.

Mama looked up. A small wrinkle was on her forehead. “It seems like it,” she admitted.

“Slept badly, did you?”

“Yes,” she told me. “Bad dreams.”

“I know the feeling,” I told her as I poured my first cup of coffee. “Monsters invaded my slumber too.”

“Brenda’s been dead a week. My intuition tells me that everything I need to know is right before me.” Mama sounded exasperated. “It’s just that I can’t see it.”

“Can’t see the forest for the trees, huh?”

“What?”

“You know the old saying: a person can’t see the forest for the trees because they’re too close to the action.”

“I could be too close to things,” she said softly. “Perhaps I’m looking at each piece of the puzzle instead of the whole picture.”

My father joined us. He drank a cup of coffee, then proceeded to go outside and fool around with Midnight. He, like me, had no doubts that this Saturday morning breakfast was going to be special because Cliff was expected.

At eight-thirty, Cliff arrived. He jumped out of his car, hugged and kissed me, then said, “Let’s eat.”

And we did just that. We had not only a great breakfast but we had a leisurely one. My father talked about a reunion his buddies were planning at the end of the month. Cliff told us a few stories of nasty divorces that kept him going back and forth like a seesaw. Mama didn’t say much but she didn’t hurry us—I got the impression that she enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere.

After breakfast, I tried to get Cliff to go for a drive but he refused. “The only effort I want to exert is to lie on your mother’s couch and work my eyelids up and down.”

“You’re not going to spend the weekend sleeping and eating!” I declared.

“Try me.”

“No way,” I told him. “Let’s play rummy.”

“I can do that,” he said. “If I can play while lying down on the couch in the family room.”

I helped Mama with the dishes while Cliff and my father retreated to the family room. “What’s your plans?” I asked Mama while cleaning off the table.

“I’m going to the Wesmart.”

“Shopping?”

“Not exactly. Something is bothering me about that night Brenda was dropped off at the store, it’s like a pull that I can’t explain. Perhaps if I go sit in the parking lot, it’ll come to me,” she said, introspectively.

With my folks out of the house, Cliff and I had time to talk. And talk we did. All kinds of subjects were broached. Every subject that is, except one: our marriage.

“Simone,” Cliff told me, “I really missed you this week. Especially when I went to your apartment to water your plants. It was almost like the world was out of sorts, out of place. Do you know what I mean?”

“I hope I do,” I confessed.

“Seriously,” he continued. “For the first time since we’ve been seeing each other my not being able to see you made my world feel like it was on a slant.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“You think I’m jiving, don’t you?”

“I think you’re a very sweet man and I love you for it.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Love me now, but—”

“But, what?”

“Will you get tired of that love?”

“How can you get tired of loving somebody?”

“People get tired,” Cliff said. “Tired, angry, and bitter. Gil Walters, one of the lawyers in the firm, was found guilty last week of assaulting his wife. They were going through a divorce and Gil became so angry that he went to her job and started beating her up. Not only did he have to pay a fine but he is also facing disciplinary action from the Georgia Commission on Lawyer Conduct. When Gil told me that his wife had filed for the divorce, all I could think of was how happy they both looked on their wedding day, how they vowed to be together until death.”

“You’re afraid of that happening to you?” I asked.

“You and me, we’re good for each other. I mean, things are right with us the way things are now, don’t you think?”

“I feel that we’re a couple,” I agreed.

“Yeah, but can we keep that togetherness?”

“My parents have kept it.”

“I know,” Cliff said. “Every time I get so caught up in a nasty divorce, I think about your parents and a measure of my faith in the institution of marriage is restored.”

“You never told me about your parents,” I said, thinking that the few times Cliff mentioned anybody
in his family was when he was joking about some silly trait or idiosyncrasy.

“The truth is, I don’t know much about my parents, Simone. My father and mother are both lawyers, defense lawyers. They worked hard with long hours. I had sitters, until I was able to go to school.”

“I’d like to meet your parents.”

“I’d like you to meet them too, but—” He hesitated.

“But, what?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Truth is, Simone, I know your mother better than I do my own.”

“Cliff,” I said, “are you afraid that your mother won’t like me?”

Cliff looked confused. “I don’t know what my mother likes. On the few occasions I call home, she is cordial, but the truth is, I get the feeling that if I never called, she wouldn’t mind.”

I started to say something else when I heard the key in the door. My father yelled, “I’m home,” like he wanted to make sure we knew he was in the house before he burst into the family room and saw me and Cliff doing something that would embarrass him.

“We know!” I hollered back reassuringly.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Daddy replied as he joined us.

“I’m not disappointed.”

“I’ve decided that you two have had enough of this being together. Candi told me to give you two some time since you haven’t really seen each other all week.
I’ve given you”—he looked at his watch—“four hours. Enough. Cliff, my boy, I have just pulled together two of the best bid-whisk players this county has living in it! Coal and Buddy will be here in a half hour. The cold beer, the peanuts, and potato chips are in the backseat of my car. We’re half an hour away from throwing down with some
serious
card players.”

Cliff jumped up from the sofa like he was a jackrabbit. “I’ll get the food from your car!”

“I’m getting the card table and chairs. Simone,” my father ordered, “move that chair back so that we’ll have a little more space.”

Needless to say, that was the end of my conversation with Cliff.

Watching four grown men act like little boys bickering over a deck of cards just isn’t my idea of a fun Saturday afternoon. I tried to watch television, but that didn’t work.

Fortunately, Mama came back home shortly after the game started.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” I told her. “Did a lightbulb go off in your head to help you understand what was bugging you about Wesmart?”

“No,” Mama answered after letting out a deep thoughtful breath, “but I did learn something very interesting about the relationship between Clyde and Brenda!”

“O
kay,” I said once my mother and I had been seated at the kitchen table. “Tell me all about what you’ve learned.”

“I told you that I was going to Wesmart,” she began. “Well, instead of taking the direct route through town, I decided to take the long way so that I could swing by Tootsie’s house. The block before I got to Tootsie I saw Clyde with that boy Stone Washington. I was about to circle the block when Clyde said good-bye and jumped on his motorcycle. On an impulse, I followed him.”

“And?” I asked in anticipation.

“He drove to where Brenda’s body had been found. I watched him for a second, then I decided to approach him. When he spotted me, he hopped on his bike and sped off.” Mama opened her hand and
showed me a crumpled paper hospital ID bracelet with the name Brenda Long written on it. “Clyde slipped his hand in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he dropped this. When I saw it fall, I didn’t think much of it but once he’d gone and I walked over to where he was standing, I saw what it was and I picked it up.

“So, Simone, instead of going to Wesmart, I decided to go to the hospital. Fortunately, Gertrude was on duty. Now, Simone, what I’m about to say can cost Gertrude her job. I feel a bit guilty that Gertrude went to this length, but I can’t say I’m sorry she found out what I’m about to tell you.”

“You don’t have to tell me that!” I said anxiously.

“Gertrude got one of the clerks in the hospital’s record room to check Brenda’s hospital record. A year ago, Brenda had a miscarriage. She had an outpatient D and C.”

I couldn’t believe what Mama was saying. “You’re not talking about the same Brenda Long that your boss told us was a saint?” I asked, disbelieving.

“The same,” Mama told me. “But that’s not the whole story. Brenda’s record indicated that Clyde Hicks gave a pint of blood in her behalf.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Brenda and Clyde had a thing for each other?” I snapped my fingers. “Wait a minute, that might have been what Dolly was alluding to when she told us that Clyde cared for Brenda.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Mama concluded.

“Remember, too, Stella told us that Brenda had gotten two kinds of letters from Clyde. The first were threatening but there were others in which he apologized. I wonder whether or not Tootsie knew of Brenda’s dilemma?”

“If she did, I’ll give you ten to one she’ll deny it.”

Mama shrugged. “You’re right. Whatever reason she’s got for pretending she doesn’t know things about Brenda is beyond me. But that’s another can of worms.” My mother took a deep breath, and although she didn’t say anything more, I could see her struggling to find answers that made sense.

Our Sunday dinner was beef tenderloin steaks, potato salad, succotash, mustard greens, buttery rolls, and coconut cream pie. The centerpiece Mama had picked up from the florist was a full bouquet of pink and white carnations.

As soon as we helped clean the kitchen, Cliff and I headed back to Atlanta. We were driving separate cars so we couldn’t talk. I spent the drive contemplating the visit of Naomi Flowers, the college classmate I hardly remembered. The more I thought about picking her up from the airport the next day, the more my sixth sense warned that the experience was going to be a nightmare. My feelings were on target. Never will that woman come near me again—it was like living with a Tasmanian devil.