Authors: Stacy Campbell
“She's a spoiled brat who should have been disciplined as a child. She's gotten through life on her looks. They're fading and she doesn't know it. A woman's dance is soon over, and with this age-obsessed society, she was old at thirty. She's forty-nine, Joshua is forty, and Alice is thirty-eight. See how long it took me to have a baby after Gigi? Nine whole years. Daniel spoiled her rotten and I've been paying for it ever since.”
“Let's get this coat on you so we can get you to the lobby, Ms. Mattie.”
“I told you I can put my own coat on,” Mattie said, playfully patting Karen's hand away as she stood. “The repast is at the community center on Tybee Island. I'm sure you'll be gone when I come back.”
“If you don't mind, bring me back an obit. You and Ms. Emma are like second grandmothers to me.”
Mattie winked. “I'll see what I can do.”
“Don't forget to take your aspirin with you. Your headaches have been coming more frequently. I worry about you, Ms. Mattie.”
She shook her purse, making sure the pills rattled. “I'll outlive you. I'm a tough old bird.”
“Tell me anything.”
Mattie looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her soft, roller-set, cherrywood hair glimmered thanks to her standing appointment with Kennedy, the stylist responsible for reopening the nursing home salon. Her curls flowed beyond her hat. Vanity made her fall under the Clairol spell every four weeks after Kennedy asked her to choose between the colors Cherrywood or Silken Black. After they'd aged, Daniel didn't like her hair black; said coloring it made her look like she was trying to be young. He suggested she explore red or auburn tones which complemented her skin color. As she turned left, she caught a glimpse of Gigi in the doorway. The floor-length fur she donned was too heavy for December, especially in Savannah, Georgia. Mattie was sure the coat was a gift from her non-working child's latest sponsor. Gigi's tousled curls flowed, and no doubt she'd spent hours seated at the upstairs vanity achieving the flawless makeup set. Mattie breathed, attempted to be kind for what was sure to be a painful afternoon.
“Gigi, I'm glad youâ”
“Come on, Mama! You were supposed to be in the lobby. I have other things to do than chauffeur you around all day!”
M
attie rode in silence as Gabrielle tapped her French manicured nails on the steering wheel. The sleek Mercedes in which they rode replaced the Cayenne she'd seen three months ago. A quick glance in the backseat revealed a bounty of gift-wrapped boxes. Her latest benefactor was generous.
He'll drop her soon like all the rest.
“You have a lot of love to put under the tree this year, Gigi.”
“I would've put a bigger dent in the love if I didn't have to pick you up today.”
“Still disrespectful.”
“What's disrespectful about being called at the
last minute
to take you to a funeral when I had plans?”
“I'm your mother, Gigi. Your seventy-two-year-old mother!”
“Mama, why are you at Grand Oak in the first place?”
Mattie looked out the window. Being reminded of her slip-ups by her oldest child produced cringe-worthy moments she tried to avoid. She closed her eyes, knowing Gigi would recount them like the alphabet.
“Oh, let me remind you, since the cat yanked out your tongue!”
“Gigi, don't.”
“The small kitchen fire you set after warming up hot dogs and pork-and-beans.”
“I was hungry and you left me in my own house for hours with no food. Bonita was generous enough to share those dogs and beans with me.”
“Hmmm, what about the time you drove around the corner, mistook the accelerator for the brake, and plowed into Mr. Shipley's backyard garden? You're lucky his pit bull, Tyson, didn't maul you.”
“I paid for his vegetables and replaced the garden boxes. You all didn't have to take away my keys.”
Gabrielle removed her right hand from the wheel, fished in the backseat for a tall, square pink box, still balancing the car and wearing a smirk. She thrust the box at Mattie.
“Open it.”
Mattie's delicate, age-spotted hands fiddled with the box and decorative bow. She opened it, silently praying it contained an assortment of her favorite snacks. As she pulled back the white tissue paper, the sight mortified her. The Depend bed protectors produced a deep intake of breath.
“They probably don't have quality bed pads at the nursing home, and I wanted to make sure you had the best.”
“What makes you think I need these?”
“You're playing coy now?”
“What are you talking about, Gigi?”
“Joshua's girlfriend, Marilyn, said you wet the guest bedroom bed. They aren't angry or anything, but it got me to thinking about the pads and your incontinence.”
Embarrassed, Mattie sank in her seat. She'd forgotten about that night at Joshua's five months ago. He and Marilyn had taken her to River Street and enjoyed a meal of steamed crab legs and corn-on-the-cob. They shopped at a few boutiques and chucked bills into trumpet and saxophone cases of young men and women entertaining passersby. The wonder and beauty of the night culminated into a dream about Daniel. In it, they were young again, living in the house he worked so hard to purchase, raising their three kids, and enjoying a Friday night game of Bid Whist with their best friends and neighbors, Bonita and Lou. Gigi ordered Joshua and Alice around, bossing them off the top of the stairs and making them bring snacks to the card table. The memories overwhelmed Mattie as she slept. The glass of wine she'd had on River Street tap danced on her bladder; warm urine trickled down her legs, ruining the expensive mattress in Joshua's guest bedroom.
In the softest tone, she muttered, “It was an accident, Gigi.”
Gabrielle sighed and looked askance at her frail mother. Gone was the strong woman who accompanied her to Girl Scout meetings, band practice, and track meets. She wanted to have a better relationship with her, but her mother was a traitor. Mattie's first betrayal was giving birth to Joshua and Alice. She was content being an only child, but her parents ruined her peace by having those brats. Birth control pills were created well before she was born, and she wished her mother had taken them
after
she was born. Her second betrayal was letting her father die. The sun rose and set on Daniel Benson, and she was never convinced her mother's refusal to get a third opinion about his prostate cancer didn't contribute to his death.
“Did you hear me, Gigi?”
“What did you say?”
“The rotation. When are you all going to start the rotation again? If not for four months, one month. I want a break from the home sometimes.”
Gabrielle huffed. Joshua devised the rotation two years before Mattie's admittance to Grand Oak. They took turns caring for her four months a year. The rotation gave them time with her while allowing the other siblings a break. They pooled their resources, hired a home health care nurse, and spent time with Mattie as best they could. The setup grew complicated as Joshua's work schedule increased, Alice refereed shouting matches between Mattie and Beryl, and Gigi's disappearing acts stretched out for days.
“Mama, we're all too busy to take care of you.”
“Gigi, you don't work.”
“I have a full day of activities.”
“With Emma goneâ”
“We're not doing it, so don't ask me again!”
Gabrielle followed a blue pickup truck into the parking lot of El Bethel Baptist Church. Judging the crowd milling around the front steps of the church, they'd made it to the service on time.
“Mama, we need to make this quick. I'm meeting one of my friends for dinner tonight.”
“Gigi, the repast is on Tybee. I want to at least fellowship with her family before I leave. Eat a little something.”
“I can get you some food on the way back to the home.”
Mattie folded her arms. Exasperated, she recalled Gigi's eagerness to put her in Grand Oak Acres. She was all too happy to be granted Durable Power of Attorney over her affairs. Not only did Gigi sign the papers like a Hollywood starlet giving an autograph, she waved the representative payee form after being added to the bank and investment accounts. She shifted assets in her name to “protect” Mattie from being fleeced at Grand Oak. Only the house remained in Joshua's name; it was Daniel's death-bed request. Jewelry, priceless coins, and cash were tucked in a safe deposit box at their family bank. Every month, Gigi made sure Mattie had three-hundred dollars cash for incidentals.
“Gigi, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What?”
“I need you to get something from the safe deposit box for me.”
“What do you need?”
“My wedding rings. The last set Daniel bought me. Matter of fact, I'd like all my jewelry and the other items locked there.”
“Those are too expensive to be worn in the home. What if someone steals them?”
“Karen protects everything for me.”
Gabrielle paused, tapped the steering wheel again. “I'll see what I can do, Mama.”
M
attie stepped into the vestibule, marveling at the well-preserved edifice. El Bethel's Senior Outreach Ministry sent a van to Grand Oak every Sunday for residents who wanted to attend the eight o'clock service. She and Emma dressed in their finest and enjoyed the preaching style of Dr. Marcus Thornton. She felt lonely as she scanned the building's stained-glass windows, patchwork-quilt ceiling, and two teakwood benchesâpreserved from El Bethel's meetings during the Civil Rights Movementânestled in the entryway. The building fund thermometer had moved significantly since the last time she visited. She stopped attending after Emma's last hospital admittance two months ago. She waved to her hall mates, Agatha, Corneila, and Harriet, huddled in a semicircle. Corneila and Harriet's rapt attention focused on Agatha. Had she known they were attending Emma's funeral, she would have asked for a ride and been spared Gigi's humiliating taunts. Then again, Agatha's grandson, BoPeep, drove a car that reeked of beer and marijuana. Agatha called him Peep and was gracious enough to share him with the ladies at Grand Oak as an ad hoc taxicab. Gabrielle clasped Mattie's hand and walked beside her, pretending to care. She did this when five or more people were gathered and didn't want to show her true colors. Agatha motioned them over.
Agatha held court in El Bethel just as she did at Grand Oak. Freshly healed from a bout of pneumonia, she was back to her gossiping ways. Her hands moved a mile a minute; ever so often she'd push back her soft, silvery curls and continue the conversation. Behind her back, the residents said there wasn't a death that happened in Savannah that Agatha didn't know about. She knew the cause and perpetrator before the body hit the ground. She paused the conversation, zeroing in on Gabrielle's coat as they approached her.
“Oh, great. Biddy City,” Gabrielle uttered.
“What, Gigi?”
“Nothing, Mama.”
Agatha closed in the space between them. “That is some kind of coat, young lady. What is it, lynx?” Agatha, wearing her own mink stole, caressed the floor-length coat as if petting a small child. “I always wanted one of these. I know that set you back at least ten grand.”
Soaking up the adoration, Gabrielle shimmied, refusing to divulge the price. “It was a gift from a friend.”
“If I could turn back the hands of time, I'da found some friends like that when I was your age.”
Mattie bristled at the thought of what her child did to get presents. She turned to Agatha. “We all sitting together?”
Corneila and Harriet looked annoyed but didn't speak.
“You missed the service. We're waiting now to see if the repast is still on Tybee Island.”
“Over? What do you mean it's over? Gigi was a little late, but the service shouldn't be over.” Mattie looked at her watch. “We still have twelve minutes before the service starts.”