Tender Graces (36 page)

When I’m clean, I let the rest of my worries and cares go right on down the drain. I towel off on the line-dried towel, put on my white t-shirt and red shorts. Momma’s white robe hangs on the door. I take it from the hook and wear it over my clothes. It smells like Shalimar and cigarette smoke. I can’t stop the feeling that comes over me. I don’t want it, but it comes anyway. I can’t stop the feeling of loving her and missing her. I can’t stop the feeling of all the years we both were too damn full of orneriness to see each other. I get so sad, I think I’m going to lie on the bathroom floor and never get up.

I escape out to the side yard where the maple is, where Gary can’t see me. I’ve walked a trillion miles since my nap. Wandered over the entire earth, except the places I’m not ready for yet. I touch the leaves, lean against the trunk. Closing my eyes, I imagine Micah comes out to sling his arm over my shoulder to tell me interesting things. And, Andy swinging, saying, “Push me higher, Sister!” I look at Momma’s closed window and see her curtains hiding what I don’t want to see: her empty room, her empty bed, her empty vanity.

My mountain watches me and I feel as if I could get there in three steps, run all the way to the top. I’m flying right to the mists, the trees tickling my feet on the way up. I stand and face it, and the wind makes Momma’s robe billow up and out from my body. Fionadala is beside me, nuzzling me up with her soft nose. We are airborne. My face is wet. It must be raining while the sun still shines. That’s what it is, it’s rain that makes my face so wet.

When I hear Gary calling, “Here kitty! Come on now!” I scurry back inside.

Grandma says, “Go in your Momma’s room. Even if it’s hard.”

I hear Miss Darla, “Oh, our girl will do it.” Good old Miss Darla.

Momma doesn’t say anything. I don’t either. I open more bags, more diaries, more memories, anything but Momma’s door. That same door that was locked against me the last day I ever saw Momma.

Chapter 29

Don’t seem right that kin are like strangers

I’d never flown in an airplane before. I was a bit jittery, but excited, too. I told Andy I bet I could open the window and walk right on the clouds without falling through them. He sat quiet as a cotton field with his comic books on his lap. I guess neither one of us felt like talking much, but I didn’t feel like thinking on things either.

Things like Micah killing Uncle Arville, or would Momma still be living when I got to West Virginia, and what would Aunt Ruby look like dead. How I didn’t get to say goodbye to Jade. She spent most her days in the summer dancing and getting skinnier and going on trips with her parents. How Rebekha looked when she waved goodbye to us, the way she tried not to cry. Seemed like everybody and everything crowded me up with worry and hurt to carry back to West Virginia.

Then, there was Daddy. He’d come in my room as if he’d just been minding his own business and all a sudden ended up there, like, “Hmmm, how did I get in Virginia Kate’s room?” I let him stand quiet while I undid my braid. I knew he had something on his mind. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

Finally, he’d said, “You going to be okay, Bug?”

I nodded.

“I should come with you.” He looked over my head, his eyes shining like the moon.

“We’ll be fine.”

“I wonder if I should go.” He wasn’t listening to me, not one bit.

I stared at him until he looked me in the eyes. He turned away to fiddle with the comb and brush set Rebekha gave me, then opened the music box and watched the ballerina twirl. Daddy was quiet for so long, I felt itchy. Finally, he closed the box and spit out what was stuck in his craw. “I loved your mother, Bitty Bug.”

I shrugged my shoulders, what did I care if he did or not, made no difference to me, wouldn’t matter anyway.

“She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. You should have seen her,” he said. “I went to her family’s  old shack with those kitchen supplies in hopes of working my way through college. And there she was.”

I brushed out my braid.

“She came in and sat at the kitchen table, swinging her leg as if she didn’t care I was there. She wasn’t wearing any shoes on those dirty feet of hers. Hair so long and tangled. Oh, ‘her infinite variety.’”

I stopped brushing. “Momma had dirty feet?”

“The dirt didn’t hide what she had.” He smiled secret, then said, “Your smart grandma invited me to dinner. I accepted and when I came back, your momma had washed off the dirt and wore a red dress. She was breathtaking.”

Daddy was telling me the love story I’d been waiting to hear all my life. But I didn’t feel happy hearing it then.

“She was wild as that mountain she lived on. I thought I could tame that wild girl. I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have tried to change her.” He took the brush from me. “This was your momma’s, wasn’t it?”

I stuck out my chin. “I stole it.”

He sat down beside me. “I thought I saved your momma and that made me arrogant. I thought I had all the answers.”

“Nobody has got all the answers.”

Daddy smiled, then said, “You’re growing up, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer.

“Turn around.”  I did and he pulled the brush through my hair. “Your momma was smarter than she let on. She used to sneak and read my books. I don’t know why she fought against things, against us.”

I was afraid of things Daddy might say. What if he wanted to go back to Momma? Would we all go back? What would happen to Rebekha? The whirly-world went round and round and I didn’t know where I’d get off.

He put down the brush and stood.

I heard sounds in the kitchen and then the smell of popcorn. That smell made me feel safe and snuggly inside. I wanted to get off the merry go round right then and stay, but I knew I had things to do first, Momma things. “What about Rebekha, Daddy?”

He kissed me on the forehead and patted my back. I smelled Eau De Bourbon on his breath. “She’s been good to you children. She’s been great for me. I finished school and I have a decent job. We have this nice house. She’s a good woman.” He was already back in his Daddy-ness, jingling his keys in his pocket and rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Then how come you won’t stop talking about Momma?”

Daddy turned and left the room.

Rebekha came to my door with a big bowl. The gap in her front teeth, her pale face and reddish hair, the way she held the popcorn as if she were giving me a gift made her beautiful to me in a way Momma never could be. “I made it just the way you like it, Virginia Kate.”

I looked at Rebekha standing there and I had to love her; she needed it. And I needed it, too. “Thank you, Rebekha.” And I meant lots of things in that thank you.

But I had a dark-haired devil on one shoulder and a strawberry blond-haired angel on the other and they were each whispering in my ears. Grandma Faith whispered, “Listen. Listen.” But there were too many voices to listen to.

The plane landed. Andy and I went down the tunnel out into the West Virginia airport. A familiar-looking man walked up to us. “Virginia Kate? Andy?”

I nodded. Andy kept looking around at everything.

The man ran his hand through dark hair with bits of gray through it. “I haven’t seen you since you was a baby, Virginia Kate.” I liked how his eyes crinkled in the corners even when he didn’t smile, and how his nose was a little crooked. I saw Momma in his face and knew he was Uncle Jonah. He tried to take Andy’s suitcase, but Andy held on tight, as if it was keeping him from flying off again.

As we walked, Uncle Jonah yapped. “I’m glad you’re staying with your aunt Billandra-Sue and me. Remember her Andy?” He looked over at Andy, but Andy watched the pilots walk by. Uncle Jonah went on, “Anyway, she’s cooked a feast and got rooms for you fixed up. We’re sure looking forward to your visit. Just wishing it was under different arrangements.”

I gave him as much of a smile as I could.

“Aunt Billie’s fit to be tied silly with having you children come to the house.”

After we had my things, we climbed in his car and drove deep into the country to where they lived in a pretty valley, in a trailer made to look just like a cute little house. A German shepherd came running, and Uncle Jonah said, “That there is Kayla. She likes to bark, but she won’t harm a hair. She’s a good old dog, she is.”

Uncle Jonah had talked all the way there, and he talked while we piled out of his car, talked while we petted Kayla, and he talked on the way to the front door. He swung around his hand, pointing to all the gardens. “Aunt Billie planted everything herself.”

Aunt Billie herself came out the door, wiping her hands on an apron. She was a tall woman with salt–and-pepper curls. She ran right on up and hugged Andy. She said, “Andy! Been too too long. You’ve shot up like a weed.” She cut her eyes to me and held out her right arm for me to be hugged, too. “And Virginia Kate. Oh, it don’t seem right that kin are like strangers.”

Her bones felt hard and strong.

Uncle Jonah stood with his hands in his pockets, grinning at everybody. But he wasn’t fooling me, I saw how his eyes kept turning to a sad place. He said, “Well, you all go on in, I’ll get the things out of the car.”

Andy and I walked though their living room with our arms hanging down at our sides. There was a pot-bellied stove fireplace, a horse-blanket rug, and furniture made of logs, leather, and soft-looking material. Cabinets were filled up with tiny glass and porcelain figures—ballerinas, birds, and lots of clowns. Aunt Billie took us down the hall. “This is your room, Virginia Kate, and Andy, your room is acrost from hers.” She opened my door and I went inside. Aunt Billie stood in the doorway. “Make yourself at home.” She closed the door.

The bed had a green cotton bedspread with four dolls in fancy dresses leaning against the pillows. There were two rag dolls on the chair, and a Barbie doll on the chest of drawers. The dolls stared at me as if they wondered what I was doing in their room. Uncle Jonah knocked, came in and put down my bags, giving me a big grin before he left. I went to the window and looked at mountains, brothers and sisters of my mountain.

I was back.

After I unpacked, I went to Andy’s room. He’d dumped the things from his suitcase into the chest of drawers, shoving everything in and then closing the drawer with clothes still sticking out.

“Nice room, Andy.”

He shrugged and sat on the bed with its dark blue bedspread. On the table beside the bed were carved animal figures. Andy picked up a dog and stroked it.

Aunt Billie stuck in her head. “I hope you both like your rooms. Those are Pooter-Boy’s comic books, Andy, but you can have them. I thought he’d stay here, but he likes where he’s been living at.” She didn’t say where that was and I didn’t ask her. “I’ve made us a snack. Come on to the kitchen, kids.”

We ate peanut butter and Ritz crackers with creek-cold sweet milk. Uncle Jonah told stories about bears and blasty winters, and how a man froze while riding a frozen horse trying to get away from a frozen bear.

“It don’t get that cold, Jonah. You’re being silly. I’m sure they remember the winters here.”

“Now, woman, you let me tell my stories.”

She swatted his arm and stood. “You two can go outside if you like, or if you need to, you rest a little while. We’ll be heading to the hospital, directly.”

“I’m going out to the workshop.” Uncle Jonah stood and kissed Aunt Billie on the cheek, and went out the back door.

Andy left the room, too. I thought how men were always hightailing it out the door when there were dishes to be done.

I picked up our dishes, even though Aunt Billie said I didn’t have to, and took them to the sink.

Aunt Billie poured in soap. “The woman that’s raising you’s doing a good job.”

Sticking my hands in the hot water, I stared out the window at all the flowers—yellow, white, and pink.

Aunt Billie took the plate I handed her. “Sometimes life is vexing, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry about your momma and your aunt. Must be hard for you kids.”

I swooshed the dishrag into the glass and thought again about Aunt Ruby dead. “How’d it happen, Aunt Billie?”

“Oh, dear. Well, I don’t rightly know.”

I gave her a I’m-a-big-girl-now look.

“Well, then, I’m going to be honest, because that’s how I am. Your uncle says I have a big mouth.” She sat back down at the table and pointed to a chair across from her. “I’ll tell you what I know.” She waited for me to settle in, then began. “Your momma and that Ruby were out drinking. Ruby always did get your momma in trouble. Jonah tried to tell Katie, but she’d get that mule-gonna-kick look on her face.” Aunt Billie sighed, then said, “Ruby lost control of the car, slid off the road, and went over the edge. They tumbled a few times before stopping at the bottom.” She ran her hand through her curls. “Your aunt Ruby was torn to pieces. She was throwed part-a-ways out the window but was still part-a-ways inside. Your momma was throwed around inside the car, but someone was watching over your momma that day, I believe it.”

I pictured Momma being scared and it made me feel scared.

Aunt Billie tapped her fingernail on the table. “Well, some soul saw the accident and stopped to help, got the police called. Your aunt was gone by then. But, like I said, your momma had an angel with her that helped keep her right alive.” She fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. “They won’t even have no funeral with no casket! Your aunt Ruby got cremated and wants her ashes on Arville’s grave. She just copied off your momma, since your momma always says she don’t want to be in no ground where the worms can get her.”