Perfect Peace (43 page)

“Y’all is if somebody cook,” Emma Jean snarled.

She shook her head as she walked down the lane.

“Knock, knock,” Emma Jean called through Henrietta’s screen door. The bag of suit pieces rested beneath her left armpit.

“Emma Jean Peace?” Henrietta said, surprised. She neither smiled nor invited her in.

“Well, hey, chile!” Emma Jean said, feigning cordiality. “How you been doin’?”

Henrietta folded her arms and stared at her with repulsion.

“Now I know we ain’t best friends or nothin’, but, girl, I needs yo’ help!” She cackled. “This is my baby’s suit for the school dance and it ain’t right. It ain’t nowhere near right. But I thought—”

“You don’t have no shame at all, Emma Jean Peace? None
at all
?”

“Dear heavens, what do you mean?”

“I delivered that . . . that . . . child, and you forced me to go along with some sickness I ain’t never forgave myself for, and now you want me to help you fix his suit for a dance?”

“I ain’t askin’ you to agree wit’ nothin’, Henrietta. I’m jes’ askin’ you to give that boy one special evening.”

“That’s the whole thing!” She clapped in disbelief. “You didn’t even raise him as no boy. Not at first!”

“Shhhhhhhh!” Emma Jean hissed. “That ain’t none o’ yo’ business. That’s my business. You ain’t gon’ have to answer to God fu nothin’. I told you that back then. I’ll be the one He questions ’bout everything. And don’t you worry—I can handle God. I jes’ need yo’ help right now. I wouldn’t o’ come if I coulda helped it. Believe me, I wouldn’t’ve.”

Henrietta cracked the screen door, and Emma Jean rushed in.

“You know I quit midwifin’ after that day, don’t you?”

Emma Jean ignored her, removed the pieces from the bag, and laid them across Henrietta’s kitchen table. “It don’t need much. Some of the pieces don’t fit together too good though. I probably didn’t cut ’em out right.”

Henrietta glanced at the material. “Then you askin’ me to make a whole suit from stratch!”

“Well, whatever it takes. You the only seamstress ’round here I know of. That’s any good anyway.” Emma Jean couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” Henrietta said, pushing Emma Jean away from the pieces as she examined them closer. “That don’t matter to you, do it?”

Emma Jean didn’t respond.

“Well, it matter to me. I’ll never forget that evening long as I live.” Henrietta looked at Emma Jean, who turned away. Henrietta had the pieces in her arms now. “I sat in that chair like a zombie all evening and into the night. I couldn’t believe a mother could do what you had done, but I couldn’t say nothin’, neither. That was the worst part about it. I had to keep yo’ secret.”

“Can we fix the suit?”

“
We
cain’t do nothin’!”

“Well, can
you
?”

“Maybe,” Henrietta shrugged, “but you gon’ hear me out first or I ain’t fixin’ nothin’. And cain’t nobody this side o’ heaven do nothin’ with these rags but me.”

Emma Jean sighed.

“I been wonderin’ how de Lawd was gon’ make you come back to me, and now I see.” She snickered. “And you need my help this time. Ha! Ain’t life somethin’?”

Just fix the suit, heffa!
she wanted to say but couldn’t.

“So let’s get this straight. I’ll fix the suit—on one condition.”

Emma Jean knew an ultimatum was coming. “What is it?”

Henrietta returned the pieces to the table. “I want the rest of your life.”

“What?” Emma Jean scowled.

“That’s right. You ruined my sleep, my health, and my midwife practice,” Henrietta explained with her back to Emma Jean. “Now, I want the life I never had.”

“My life ain’t worth a damn!”

“Oh no! I don’t want your
existence
—I want your work, your energy.”

“What is you talkin’ ’bout, Henrietta?”

“See, I wanna open up my own little boutique. Right in downtown Morrilton. Trish moved away last year, and with my husband gone, I ain’t got nothin’ else. I been wantin’ to do this for years, but I ain’t had no money.”

“Well, shit, I ain’t got none, either!”

“But you can work enough to make some. That’s what I want.”

“You want some money? I’ll pay you some money. You didn’t think I’d ask you to do this free, did you?”

Henrietta laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want no one-time payment. I want you to work for me. For free. For the rest of yo’ life.”

Emma Jean howled. “Sheeeeeeeit! You must be crazy, woman! I ain’t no
fool. I ain’t workin’ for you or nobody else for free, and I sho ain’t ’bout to do it for de rest o’ my life! You must think I’m stupid or somethin’!”

“You ain’t gotta do nothin’, Emma Jean Peace. Unless you want this suit fixed.”

“I’ll fix it myself before I let you swindle me into something that crazy! I cain’t sit for no long time noway!” Emma Jean snatched the garment pieces from the table.

“Suit yourself. That child is gon’ look a mess at the dance in some ole botched-up suit. But if you okay with it, it sho don’t bother me.”

Henrietta held the screen door open as Emma Jean stomped through it. “I ain’t neva been that desperate, Ms. Henrietta Worthy. Never!” She pranced away, mumbling her indignation.

“That hussy must be crazy!” she panted, trudging through the screen door.

“What is it?” Gus asked.

Emma Jean was too embarrassed to say. “I just cain’t believe she said that. I just cain’t believe it.”

“Who said what?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

“All right,” Gus said. He and the boys went to the field.

“She wanna charge me a arm and a leg just to fix a suit? It’ll be a cold day in hell befo’ I work for that heffa for free! She must think I ain’t got no sense!” Emma Jean marched around the kitchen table, speaking as if someone were sitting before her. “Shit. I ain’t crazy. Let me try this one more time. Maybe I just got too frustrated too soon.”

She poured the pieces from the bag onto the table and immediately became discouraged all over again.

“Let’s see. . . .”

She tried to align the parts of the suit, but they simply didn’t fit together. “Goddamnit!” she shouted, and pounded the tabletop. There was nothing else she could do.

Throughout the day, Emma Jean tried to think of someone or something else to ameliorate her situation, but she kept drawing blanks. Surely someone other than Henrietta Worthy could sew who could help her out. Emma Jean thought of several women—including Mamie Cunningham—but their
garments always looked homemade. And she wasn’t about to ask Mamie Cunningham for anything. No, Henrietta was the only one who could make an outfit and folks thought it came straight from the store. And that’s what she wanted.

By midnight, Emma Jean knew she had no other choice. She had moved the pieces around all day, but they never merged into the suit she had imagined.

“Where you goin’ at this hour, Momma?” Woody asked as Emma Jean opened the front door.

“I got somethin’ I gotta do, son. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.” She took Gus’s flashlight and walked into the night.

Henrietta thought she heard a woodpecker, then, when the knock came stronger, she concluded that somebody must be dead. She rushed to the door.

Emma Jean glanced everywhere except into Henrietta’s eyes.

“What’s de matter?”

“This suit. That’s what’s de matter.”

“What chu doin’ here at this hour?”

Emma Jean pushed past Henrietta and into her living room. “Fix the damn thing,” she mumbled, and tossed the bag onto the sofa.

“Why didn’t you bring it tomorrow? I can’t do nothin’ wit’ it tonight.”

“Yes you can,” Emma Jean returned, and nodded. “And you will. If I’m gon’ give you the rest o’ my life, you gon’ give me tonight. And I don’t want none o’ my folks knowin’ nothin’ ’bout this suit or our little . . . arrangement.”

Henrietta yelped. “You can’t come in my house and—”

“Oh just fix the goddamn suit, will ya!” Emma Jean paused. “Please.”

Henrietta cleared the table and laid out the pieces. She mocked Emma Jean’s mess, then put on a pot of coffee. “I thought our dealings were over years ago.”

Emma Jean sat silently on the sofa.

“God gon’ always bring it full circle, ain’t He?”

She wanted Henrietta to shut up and fix the suit as quickly as possible.

“When that child was born and you did what you did, I promised myself I wouldn’t bring another baby into this world. I came home that evening and threw my medicine bag into the fire and cried. You made me carry somethin’ that was too heavy for me. But I didn’t have no choice, did I?”

Fix the damn suit, woman, and close yo’ mouth!

“I was so scared you wuz gon’ tell my business. Ha! If I knew then what I
know now, I woulda let you tell whatever the hell you wanted to ’cause wunnit nothin’ worth that.”

“It didn’t cost you nothin’. It was my doin’.”

Henrietta shook her head. “You wrong. It cost me everything. I didn’t sleep for days.”

“Why didn’t you? It didn’t have nothin’ to do with you.”

Henrietta looked at Emma Jean as though she had transformed into a cyclops. “You made it have somethin’ to do with me! You made me agree to destroy somebody’s life.”

Emma Jean rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, okay. But you gon’ pay. You gon’ wish to God you had let that boy be a boy.”

Emma Jean whispered, “He
is
a boy.”

“He is
now
! But he gon’ always have some girl in him. Always. Thanks to you.”

“He’s still gon’ be my sweet baby, don’t care how much girl he got in him. I’ma love him just like he is.”

“Yeah, but the world ain’t. That’s why somebody beat him up. You and Gus can’t protect him a lifetime, Emma Jean. He ain’t gon’ live with you but a little while longer, then what?”

“I don’t know, but he’ll be all right.”

Silence wanted to settle between them, but Henrietta ran it away. “The next time I saw that child, she was ’bout two. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She really looked like a little girl. I couldn’t figure out how you had done it. But I told myself to be patient. Time would reveal the truth. But it never did. So, one day, I just decided not to carry it any longer. I gave it over to God and told Him to do whatever He wanted to do with you. I was mad for years ’cause seem like God wunnit gon’ do nothin’, then, all o’ sudden, you show up on my doorstep.” Henrietta laughed hard. “He may not come when you want Him, but He’s always right on time. Ain’t that what they say?”

Emma Jean cleaned her fingernails with a toothpick.

“Now, you need me again. Well, ain’t that some shit?”

Emma Jean wanted to slap Henrietta, but, under the circumstances, she held her peace.

“How did you do it, Emma Jean? I mean, even now, folks ain’t figured out how you pulled it off. How did you keep it from Gus and them boys?”

Silence.

“Huh? How’d you do it?”

Emma Jean ignored Henrietta and watched her work. Her sewing skills made Emma Jean envious. Piece by piece, the suit began to take shape the way Emma Jean had envisioned. Things that would have taken her days Henrietta did in minutes and did it much more meticulously.

“None o’ them boys never asked you nothin’?” She poured herself a cup of steaming hot black coffee.

“There wunnit nothin’ to ask.”

“I guess you right. They didn’t know to ask.”

She connected the shoulders and reinforced the stitch. “You cut these shoulders like that child is a li’l boy. He near ’bout tall as Gus now, ain’t he?”

“Yes, he is.”

“And what if that boy get married one day and then start thinkin’ ’bout boys? Ain’t you gon’ blame yo’self?”

Emma Jean’s patience was fading. Sighing and huffing weren’t deterring Henrietta, and Emma Jean knew her abrasive tongue wouldn’t remain silent much longer.

“Ump, ump, ump. Yeah, you done created more than you can handle, Miss Emma Jean. I hope that chile gon’ be all right.”