Red Light Wives (5 page)

“I love my mama, but she can be a bitch,” Verna said, right after she'd told me about Daddy's newest mistress. I was perched on a pillow in the passenger seat of the eighteen-wheeler she was driving to deliver some live chickens to a poultry store in Alabama. “She ain't never goin' to accept me for what I am, and I ain't never goin' to accept her for what she is. You, Lula, you keep your eyes and ears open and don't let nobody make a fool out of you. Not even my mama.”

By this time, Verna had moved into her own place, and I spent as much time there as I could. Even when I had to drag my two knotty-headed half brothers along with me, with them kicking and screaming all the way. The twins were afraid of Verna and her big, hairy, husky female friends. Etta stopped me from taking my half brothers to Verna's house when Logan came home one day and asked her why Verna looked and acted like a man. He also revealed the fact that Verna and her female lovers got very affectionate in front of him and his brother.

“Lula, if you carry my babies over there again, you better start lookin' for you someplace else to live,” Etta warned me. Daddy had all but moved in with his latest girlfriend, so I had to deal with Etta by myself most of the time.

I was seventeen, but I felt more like somebody twice my age. I enrolled in night school and I got my diploma anyway.

“Lula, as soon as you turn eighteen, I advise you to get the hell up out of that house,” Verna told me.

When Etta found out that I was planning my escape, which meant she would have to take care of her own kids and her house herself, she finally started treating me like a human being. She would crawl out of her bed and drive me all the way to Biloxi to shop. She bought me things that I'd never been able to get her to buy me before. She even hired a woman from her church to come help with the twins and that big house. But it was too late. I had landed a job in the mail room at the Department of Motor Vehicles. With my first paycheck, and money from Daddy and Verna, I moved into my own apartment.

It was nothing to brag about, but it was my place, and I could do as I pleased. Daddy helped me furnish my apartment, and he came by a few times a week to give me money. I saw more of him after I moved out of his house than I did when I lived with him. But Daddy had his own motives. He had yet another young thing on his agenda. Honey Simms was just a couple of years older than me and still lived at home with her mama. When Daddy didn't feel like taking her to a motel, they'd rendezvous at my place. And when that happened, I left them alone and I went to Verna's where I slept on her living room couch. When she and one of her lovers wanted to let loose, I slept on a pallet on the floor in her garage.

I spent so much time at Verna's apartment, I got to know all of her friends. Odessa Hawkins entered our lives and became my sister's live-in lover and my best friend. She was a few years older than me, but we had a lot in common. We both liked the same movies, books, clothes, and food. One night after one of the monthly parties Verna and Odessa hosted, Odessa lured me to the kitchen and hugged me. It startled me so bad, I stumbled against the refrigerator.

“Don't even go there. You are my sister's…uh, friend,” I said, dizzy from drinking four beers.

“Girl, don't you go there,” Odessa said, guffawing. “I know you don't swing my way, and even if you did, you ain't my type.” Odessa hugged me again and this time she kissed me on the lips. “See there. You don't even taste good to me. Sour lips mean a sour pussy, and I ain't goin'
there
.” Even though I was horrified, I laughed with her when she pinched my cheek.

“Girl, you better not let Verna catch you actin' like a bitch in heat,” I said, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand.

“If Verna don't like what I do, she can lick my pussy! And before the night is over, I hope she will,” Odessa said, swooning.

My first boyfriend dumped me for one of his mother's friends. And the few after him, well, it didn't take me long to forget them after they dumped me. I never considered myself a raving beauty, but people were always telling me how attractive I was. I was medium everything. Height, weight, color. I had enough hair to wear in some of the best styles, and I knew how to dress. Why I couldn't get involved in a good relationship was a mystery to me. And then I met Larry Holmes.

Larry worked for UPS and delivered packages to the DMV two to three times a week. Working in the mail room, I saw him every time he came. His long legs, light brown skin and curly brown hair made me drool. He was the best-looking man I'd ever seen. There was only one other Black woman working in the mail room. But Emma Lou Hanks was in her fifties and all she talked about to anybody who would listen was her husband, her kids, and her grandkids.

I was thirty-two and managing the mail room, and I knew that Larry was younger than me. But I didn't know just how young. As it turned out, he was five years younger, but that didn't stop him from asking me to go out for a drink with him. It was to celebrate my promotion from the mail room to the front counter to process vehicle registrations. The pay was pretty good, but it was a boring job, and I hated it. Larry brought some long overdue excitement into my life.

One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was in a committed relationship. Larry took me to bars and to parties where he introduced me to some of his friends, so I knew our age difference didn't bother him. Since my experience with men was so limited, a lot of the things he did didn't seem odd to me, but they did to Odessa and Verna.

“Girl, that brother is hidin' somethin', if he don't even want you to know where he lives,” Verna told me. “If he's as crazy about you as you think he is, he'd take you to his place at least once.”

“Well, I've asked him to plenty of times. I can't keep naggin' him and run him off,” I protested. I never liked discussing Larry with Verna or Odessa. When his name came up, I usually changed the subject or made myself scarce. That kept the peace, and it kept me happy.

 

Daddy had slowed down a little and didn't need to bring his girlfriends to my apartment as much, so every time Larry asked to come over, I said yes. Even though he often spent the night, I never questioned him about why he showered and left so early every morning.

Working for the DMV, I had access to a lot of confidential information. All I had to do was nose around on a computer. I was surprised when I found out that Larry lived in the low-income Noble Street Projects on the outskirts of town. Even I found that odd. The man made decent money and he had several roommates. He could have afforded something better. Again, that was just another mystery about Larry that I didn't spend much time thinking about.

For Larry's twenty-eighth birthday, I arranged for a singing telegram to go to his apartment and sing “Happy Birthday” to him. It was a Saturday morning and he had just left my apartment. When he spent the night with me, he always left the next morning at exactly the same time. He'd call me as soon as he got home to tell me how good I'd made him feel. He always called at the same time, whispering into the telephone so he wouldn't disturb his roommates. He called me when he got home on the morning of his birthday, too. But not to whisper sweet words in my ear.

“Girl, what's wrong with you? You crazy? What the hell do you mean sendin' some fat-ass, white-ass bitch to my house?” Larry was sizzling with rage.

I was stunned. “It's your birthday,” I said, pouting.

“‘It's your birthday,'” he mimicked. “Who gave you my address? You been followin' me?”

I could not believe my ears. I was in such a state of shock, it was a struggle for me to speak. “I got it off the computer at work.” My voice was so low and squeaky, I could not believe it was me talking.

“Well, you better lose my address and I mean you better lose it quick. That fat-ass, white-ass bitch, screechin' like a owl, woke up the whole building with her bullshit singin'!”

“Well, excuse me. It won't happen again,” I barked, my teeth grinding.

“It better not.” Larry hung up on me.

He didn't come around for two months. Since I no longer worked in the mail room, I didn't see him when he made his deliveries. Then like nothing had ever happened, he showed up at my door one night with whiskey on his breath. I was glad to see him and he was glad to see me, but he was not glad about the news I had to share with him. Since he was already tipsy, I fixed him some coffee, as he stretched out on my couch. He waved the coffee away and ordered me to get him a beer.

“Where yours at?” he asked as I handed him his drink.

“I don't think I should be drinkin' in my condition,” I said sweetly. “It wouldn't be good for the baby.” I held my breath and stood back, bracing myself for his reaction.

Larry stood so fast he dropped the bottle of beer, spilling it all over the carpet I'd just steam cleaned the day before. “Pregnant? Girl, I ain't ready to be no daddy!” he hollered, rotating his arms like a windmill.

I gasped and rubbed my stomach. “What are we goin' to do then? I'm pregnant and I can't get unpregnant.”

When Larry got nervous, he raked his fingers through his hair. With both his hands working his hair, he looked at me, raking and blinking. “I know this doctor over in Gulfport. He'll fix you up….”

I sucked in my breath so hard, my tongue flapped. “You want me to have an abortion? I thought you loved me.” In addition to telling me that he loved me, Larry had talked like we had a future—even though he had never mentioned marriage, unless I brought it up. But since he loved me, I thought that things would fall into place sooner or later. Some of his clothes were at my apartment, he borrowed money from me, and he did things for me that some of the women I knew couldn't get their husbands to do. What else could I think?

He started to talk with his back to me. “Listen,” he began. He stopped and shook his head. “I'm sorry, Lula Mae, I do love you, girl. It's just that…well, a baby is a big responsibility. And I'm still a young man.”

I didn't like it when age came up in our discussions. “Well, yes, you are still young and I am, too, compared to some people. But I am in my thirties and that's pretty old to be havin' my first baby or gettin' married.” Larry gave me an exasperated look but that didn't shut me up. “Havin' a baby won't change things between us. I mean, you can still live where you live, if you don't want to get married.” I let out a mild sigh and looked at the floor. When I looked back up, Larry was still standing there, his hands on his hips, looking at me like I'd just flung a dead bird at him. “I've already looked at a bigger place, and it would be fine for me and the baby.”

With a hiss, he moved closer to me, his eyes looking as hard as ice and just as cold. “What's wrong with you, girl? It takes a whole lot of money to raise a baby!” His hands were on my shoulders, gripping me so hard I could feel the tips of his fingers pressing against my shoulder blades. I pried his hands off and stepped back.

“It's not like I don't have a good job. I can take care of my baby by myself…if I have to,” I said wearily. Confrontations tired me out, and that was why I avoided them whenever I could. That was hard to do with a man like Larry.

He sighed real long and hard, shaking and scratching his head on both sides. “Double shit,” he muttered.

“Look, Larry, I don't have much family and there ain't much love there anyway. At least not for me. I want this baby.”

He shook his head some more.

“What about a name for…it?” he asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes.

“If it's a boy, I'm goin' to name him Richard.”

“That ain't what I meant.” He waved his hand so hard, it made a swishing noise. “What you goin' to put on the birth certificate?”

“What?”

“If you put my name on the birth certificate, the man'll come after me for child support,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Why would I have to go to the man on you? You sayin' you won't help me support this baby?” I touched his arm, and he promptly snatched it away, wincing like I'd jabbed him with an ice pick. “I want this baby, Larry.”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Look, if you want this baby, go on and have it. I-I can't promise you nothin'. Things could change any day. Uh, I…my cousins want me to move up to D.C. and help them run their limo business.” This was the first time I'd heard of cousins in D.C. with a limo business. “Now, if I was to move to D.C.…”

“You could take me with you. I'm desperate to get out of Mississippi anyway.”

The look on Larry's face went from frustration to absolute horror. “Girl, you workin' both sides of the street, ain't you? I can't take you with me, if I do decide to go.”

I slid my tongue across my teeth and backed over to my couch. I plopped down with a thud. By now I was really worn out, physically and emotionally. “Well, why don't we worry about that if and when it happens. Like I said, I want my baby, and I'm havin' it, no matter what you decide to do. While you in Barberton, if you still want to be with me, fine. If you don't, well, that's fine, too. I got along without you before I met you, I can get along without you if you leave me. We Black women are used to bein' deserted by our men anyway…”

After a deep sigh and a reluctant smile, Larry held open his arms.

“Aw, now you makin' me feel real bad. My mama used to say that same shit after my old man took off. I ain't nothin' like my daddy. I'm a real man. And, girl, you know I'm crazy about you. Come here, baby…”

It made me feel good about myself, knowing that I had the patience and insight to recycle a hardheaded man like Larry. I felt sorry for the women I knew who didn't. He continued to come around, and we went on with our relationship. He even brought over some clothes for the baby.