Revenge of a Not-So-Pretty Girl (32 page)

“Don’t know.”

“Well, this is way too heavy for you to be dragging around. I’ll carry it for you.” He shakes my hand away. “Hey, if you’re around at all this summer, maybe I could take you for an Italian ice or something,” he says once we start walking.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“It’s cool. I understand. Pretty girls always go for those good-looking guys.”

I stop right there in my tracks. “You think
I’m
pretty?”

“Of course. Anyway, it’s okay. You don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to.”

I sneak a look at Gerald. All of a sudden, his teeth don’t seem as horselike as they did before. And he wouldn’t look lanky if he was sitting.

“It seems like it’s gonna get pretty hot this summer,” I say. “So, if I don’t go visit my dad in Florida, I’m probably really gonna be wanting an Italian ice.”

*  *  *

Uncle Paul’s got his britches in a bunch when I get there. He’s carrying on and screaming about me lugging a suitcase that’s almost as big as me through the streets of Brooklyn; about why I didn’t call so he could come and pick me up; about why my mother didn’t help me. But I relay all that’s happened over the past couple days, and he gets really quiet. I catch the look he shoots Aunt Nola’s way before he goes storming out the door.

A few hours later, he’s back. But he’s not alone. Jerry is right there next to him. And he’s asking to talk to me alone in the kitchen.

“I have something for you,” he says as we walk in. And in his hand is an envelope with the American Airlines symbol on it. “It’s a plane ticket to Florida.”

“Did you buy this?” I ask.

“Nope. Your dad sent it last week.”

“And you held on to it?”

“Negative there too. Your mama had it. Couldn’t decide whether or not she was gonna have you go down there. But now, well, I guess she sees it might be a good thing for you.”

“When?”

“End of the week.”

“So you went over there with Uncle Paul? You saw her too?”

Jerry nods.

“She’s acting strange, even for Mama,” I say. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s had a lot of things not go the way she’s
wanted them to. I think she’s had a lot of disappointments, and she’s feeling real tired and beaten down. I don’t think you know this, Faye, but she recently got let go from her job. I didn’t even know it. Not until we just went over there. Anyway, she barely has enough energy to take care of herself right now, and she knows she has to be able to take care of herself before she can take care of you or anyone else, me included. So she’s just gonna need some time. She’s gonna have to figure out a way to get back her confidence and herself.”

“Sounds to me like she’s having some kinda breakdown,” I say.

“What do you know about those kinda things?” Jerry asks. “I don’t know if I’d call it that, Faye. Think right now I’d call it a life transition.”

“How long will she be transitioning? How long will I be away?”

“Wish I could say maybe a few days or a week. But truth is, I don’t know right yet. I don’t think she knows right yet.”

“So you still gonna be living there with her?”

“No. No. I don’t think she needs any extra pressure from me right now. And I’m not a stupid man. I understand that I’m not her first choice. But I’ll be there for her whenever she needs a friend. Whenever she needs some help. You can count on that.”

I can tell that Jerry’s sad, but he’s trying to put up a strong front for me.

“Will I see you again?” I ask.

“Well, first of all, it’s not like I’m dying. And I’m always
popping in to see Paul here. But same thing goes for you as goes for your mama. Whenever you feel the need, just give old Jerry here a call.”

Despite all the wetness and greasiness, I hug Jerry. And it’s not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Well, I make sure I avoid any face-to-hair contact by angling my head away. And I have to hold my breath a little to block out the burnt-chemical smell, but his hug is bearlike and firm. And I can feel how much he really cares.

“Faye, the money
I
gave you is to spend on things you need, not on me,” Ms. Downer says as the lights in the number 6 train dim for a few seconds, then come back on full blast. “And if you wanted to take me out to eat, we could have done it in Brooklyn. There are plenty of fine restaurants there.”

“Right, but the finest restaurants are in Manhattan. Besides, I’m gonna be gone the whole summer, so you should enjoy the time you get to spend with me now, even if we’ll be spending it in Manhattan. And when was the last time you were here in the city, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a couple of years. But there’s really no need for me to come here anymore.”

“I disagree,” I say as I check my watch. It’s two-fifteen and we’re only a couple of stops from Seventy-Ninth Street, which means we’re right on schedule.

“And why do you keep looking at your watch?”

“Because I don’t want us to be late for our reservation.”

“Will you tell me exactly where we’re going, at least?”

“Upper East Side.”

“Which is where we are now. But what kind of food? Which restaurant?”

“You never come here. You wouldn’t know anyway,” I say. “You’re just gonna have to wait till we get there.”

Once we get off the train, I hear the old lady calling for me to slow down. I didn’t realize I was walking so fast. But when I stop and turn, I notice she’s about six feet behind me. And this happens like three more times, and the place we’re heading is only about four blocks from the station. I have to force my legs to go slower to stay at the old lady’s pace. I’m so excited, it’s as if I’ve lost all control of my muscles. I steer her toward a familiar-looking building. Since it’s such a warm day, there are a lot more patients in the courtyard than the last time I was there.

“Faye, this doesn’t look like a restaurant,” Ms. Downer says as we slow down.

“It’s not. But I need to make one small stop.”

“What, you’re checking me into a nursing home?”

“No,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s so much better than anything you could ever imagine.”

I spot an empty table in the farthest corner of the courtyard and lead her over. She’s pretty hesitant about it all, but she follows me. Once that’s done, I run into the building.

After talking to the really large woman at reception, I sit down next to a couple of those crazy-looking old people who seem to be able to look in only one direction—straight ahead—and who smell as if they’ve been bathed in Vicks
VapoRub. I sit there waiting and waiting. Every couple of minutes, I go over to the front door and stick my head out to make sure the old lady hasn’t taken off. It’s killing me having to wait. And even though only ten minutes pass before Delaine shows up, it seems like a lifetime.

But Delaine doesn’t come alone. There’s some big sumo-wrestler-like security guard tagging along. Like any of the five feet and ninety-five pounds of me would be able to harm Delaine in any way. But before she can say anything or ask her goony sidekick to remove me, I start flapping my lips.

“This will only take a minute,” I say. “And you can have this man follow you. But there’s something out in the courtyard I think you should have a look at.”

She shoots a glance at the guard, then looks at me again.

“Please …”

“Let’s make it fast,” she says. “Scotty, just stay close by.”

I walk through the door first, followed by Delaine and then Scotty.

“It’s just over here,” I say as I head to the table at the corner of the courtyard where the old lady is seated.

The closer Delaine gets, the faster she begins to walk. And then she clicks into supernurse mode.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asks.

Ms. Downer turns toward us and begins to stand slowly. At first there’s not any recognition on her face.

“Are you all right?” Delaine asks her. “It might be better if you sit back down.”

But Ms. Downer doesn’t say anything. She just keeps
staring and staring. And then I see this lightbulb go on in her eyes.

“She doesn’t live here with us,” Delaine says to me.

“No. She doesn’t.”

“Well, we can’t just accept people off the street. We go through a whole admittance process.”

“She’s not trying to move in. She has her own home. In Brooklyn.” But this doesn’t seem to trigger anything in Ms. Downer’s daughter.

“Her name is Evelyn,” I say. I don’t say anything more. I don’t need to. Delaine just freezes. Her body straightens completely and her head snaps back.

As I look from one to the other, I suck in my breath. This is electrifying. I want to set off fireworks Fourth of July–style and moonwalk like Michael Jackson did on that Motown twenty-fifth anniversary special.

“Delaine?” The old lady’s voice comes out all crackly and hoarse as she says those two syllables.

They just look at each other for a while. The daughter opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. Then the old lady does the same. I’m thinking a hug is going to come, a holding of hands even, but there’s only a shake of the head by the younger woman, who then kind of waves the guard off. Once he turns to go back into the nursing home, she sits. The old lady does the same. So now they’re sitting next to each other and they’re both kind of staring out into the distance, not saying or doing anything much at all.

“What are you doing here?” Delaine finally asks.

“I don’t know,” the old lady says as she looks my way.

I start backing off. I move all the way to the other side of the courtyard, but I never take my eyes off them. I understand they might need a little time to build up to a big show of emotion.

Finally, a steady rhythm comes to the movement of their lips, and there seems to be some sort of conversation. But I can’t hear what’s being said. I can’t even guess what it could be. Neither one ever moves to sit across from the other. Neither one ever embraces the other. Then, after about fifteen minutes, Delaine gets up and quickly walks off into the nursing home, while Ms. Downer just continues sitting there.

I stay put, thinking maybe the daughter is about to come back out; that maybe she’s just gone to tell her supervisor she has to take the rest of the afternoon off to be with her recently rediscovered mother. But after a couple of minutes pass and she still hasn’t returned, the suspense gets the best of me. I run over to Ms. Downer and flop down across from her.

“What happened? What did she say?” I’m practically yelling, I’m so excited. “Is she gonna come visit you in Brooklyn? Maybe have you over to her house for dinner? Is she coming back out? When are you two gonna really sit down together and catch up?”

Ms. Downer is very quiet, and I begin to sense that the tears bunched up in the corners of her eyes aren’t from joy.

“I don’t suppose there will be any dinners, Faye. She’s in shock, I think. It took her a long time to get to a place where
she was able to move on from her feelings of abandonment and hurt. Years, really. And she thinks it’s manipulative of me to try to get to her with the use of a child.”

I feel as if I’ve been punched in the stomach, forcing all the air out of me. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. Delaine Lawson was supposed to have gotten all emotional and sad-happy. She was supposed to have been full of forgiveness.

“But it wasn’t your fault,” I say. “You didn’t even know. I was the one who did everything. And the past is the past, right? Why can’t she just get over it?”

“If only things were that easy. If only life were like a movie. But it’s not. I can’t tell you how many times I was supposed to go and see her, and I just never showed up. That was when there was still the chance of a relationship. The few times I did go, I made sure I had had more than a few drinks, to try to deal with my guilt. But the drinking made me say and do some horrible things. When she was about fifteen, I decided that I was stable enough to take care of her again. But she told me I had lost my chance. That she’d rather stay in the situation she was in, living with her grandparents. I was so hurt, I went off and did what I did best. Got drunk. But then I showed up again. And the things I said to her, you shouldn’t even say to your worst enemy. They were vile and filthy and horrible. And I did it in front of her friends.” One of the tears escapes and rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly. “How did you even find her?” she asks.

“I got the film man to tell me her name. And he said she
was working at a nursing home in Manhattan, so I called all the clinics and places like that till I found the one she worked in.”

“You never cease to surprise me, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I was just trying to help. I figured if she could know you like I do, then she’d be your daughter again. And you’d have a family and wouldn’t have to be alone. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Mad? How could I be?” the old lady says. “You were trying to do something good. But things aren’t so simple. The feelings she has for me have been built up over so many years. Can’t just expect her to lose them and say all is forgiven in a matter of a few minutes. Still, at least I got to see her.”