God Still Don't Like Ugly (38 page)

“I know that. You are too tough and ornery to let that happen.” I held my breath when she started coughing. Her left eye crawled back in her head. I stood up, still holding her hand. “You want me to get the doctor?” Then, the same rattling noise that I had heard coming from Daddy King before he died came from Rhoda! I could not believe what was happening. I refused to believe that my best friend was dying right before my eyes. “Rhoda, I’m going to go get the doctor.”

She shook her head, refocused her eye, and clutched my arm. “I’m fine.”

I waited and watched in silence for a few moments. “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry I didn’t pay more attention to you last night. I knew something was wrong.” I blinked hard to hold back my tears. The last thing I wanted to do was fall apart in front of Rhoda.

“Girl, stop overreactin’,” she snapped in a weak voice. “The doctor said it was just a mild stroke.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Then everything’s going to be all right?”

“If you mean my fucked-up mouth, yeah.” I was glad to see Rhoda wiggle her lips and laugh. “And I’m not goin’ anywhere anytime soon, so don’t worry about what to wear to my funeral.”

“I never—”

“And you never will. Now go on back home so I can get some rest.”

Rhoda closed her eyes and I left.

CHAPTER 74

That following Saturday morning, just as we had agreed, Pee Wee and I went down to the courthouse and got married. I wore a navy blue suit and a yellow silk blouse and I’d gone to Miss Rachel’s beauty salon and had my hair done the evening before.

Pee Wee advised me not to wear any makeup. “I love you just the way you are,” he told me. “You always been beautiful to me.”

I didn’t bother to tell him how good he looked in his black suit and white shirt. He had gotten so much more handsome over the years, it wasn’t necessary to tell him. The city hall judge who married us made a comment about us being such a nice-looking couple. It was then that
all
of the doubts were removed from my mind: I
was
beautiful.

The only flaw in my ecstasy was Rhoda’s latest trauma. I knew in my heart that I would be there for her, no matter what. If Muh’Dear could forgive Daddy and allow him back into her life, I could forgive Rhoda for every evil thing she’d done. She was paying for her crimes, and in the worst way.

Pee Wee moved in with me that same day. Other than that, it was just another day. We went to visit Rhoda but she remained asleep the whole time. I was stunned but pleased when we went to Muh’Dear’s house to pick up Charlotte and discovered that Daddy had slept in the same room with Muh’Dear. He was still in bed when I walked into Muh’Dear’s bedroom.

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“It ain’t what you think. I just needed him to keep my back warm,”

Muh’Dear told me with a nervous grin.

“And I’m sure he did.” I hugged my mother and then I woke up my daddy so I could hug him, too.

I called up Lillimae when I got home and we chatted for over two hours.

“Annette, I love you and I am so happy for you,” Lillimae told me.

“You finally got everything you wanted. Your mama and daddy are back together. You got a good man, a beautiful baby. What more could you ask for?”

“I am blessed,” I told my sister. I had received letters from both of my other siblings the same day. Yes, I was truly blessed. Even though I had lost my stepfather, P. and Jean, and possibly Rhoda, I still had a lot to be thankful for.

The next day Otis told me that a tour guide had tracked down Rhoda’s parents and delivered the message that he had wired about Rhoda’s condition.

It was another week before the doctor released Rhoda. I was already at Rhoda’s house, nursing a huge glass of wine, when Otis brought her home. I was glad that he and Jade left me alone with Rhoda.

“My parents are arrivin’ from Kenya tonight. I really need my mother,” Rhoda told me in a hoarse voice, lying on her back in her bed, propped up with three pillows. Even though she was able to talk, her mouth was still slightly twisted and from the grimace on her face, it looked like it was painful for her to talk. If that wasn’t enough of an indignation, she would have to drag her left foot when she walked for the rest of her life. I couldn’t imagine Rhoda having to give up all of her fancy high heels, prancing around like one of the Rockettes, skipping rope, roller skating with Jade, and dancing in front of the band at the Red Rose bar. The glamorous life that she had enjoyed for so many years was over. Her future as a hopeless cripple was far worse than her spending time in jail. Rhoda cleared her throat and spoke again with her lips quivering. “My Aunt Lola’s comin’ up from Alabama to stay with us for a while, too. She’s goin’ to help out until . . . until—”

Rhoda was too weak to continue.

“Scary Mary said she could take care of Jade and I can cook and clean for you until your family arrives,” I offered, smoothing the covers on Rhoda’s bed.

Rhoda shook her head. Her hair, dry and tangled, dangled about 306

Mar y Monroe

her face like natty dreadlocks. “You’ve done enough for me.” It was a struggle for her to speak but she continued. “Besides, you should be with Pee Wee and Charlotte.”

“I think you need me more than they do right now,” I said firmly.

She sniffed and cracked a thin smile. “When’s the weddin’?”

“Last Saturday.”

“What?” Rhoda wailed weakly, her eyes bulging.

I shook my head. “We just went to city hall. I didn’t want to be waltz-ing down a church aisle with a bunch of people gawking at me anyway. I’m too old for that.” I laughed. “We’ll have a reception at my house when you get better. Pee Wee moved his things into my house and he’s going to rent his house to his cousin Steve and his family.”

“I wish you had waited. I wanted to be there for you,” Rhoda whined, sighing sadly.

“You were,” I said gently as I sat down on the foot of the bed, crossing my legs. I cleared my throat and steered the conversation back to Rhoda’s condition. “Did the doctor say why this happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“People our age don’t have strokes.”

“Well, I did.”

“But you were so healthy. Was it something in your diet? Was it something you did or didn’t do? I don’t understand how—”

A pensive look appeared on Rhoda’s face. She scratched her chin, frowning because it was covered in dried spit. “It was somethin’ I did.”

“But what in the world—”

In a steely voice she announced, “I did some things I shouldn’t have done. And you know what I’m talkin’ about.”

I gave her a puzzled look and shrugged.

“Bad karma.” Rhoda sighed and scraped her bottom lip with her teeth. I noticed that her left eye now looked larger than her right eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew damn well what she meant. I just didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. Especially at a time like this.

“The things I told you I did . . .”

I let out a groan as a sharp pain shot through my chest. “Do you think it was that shit you told me about killing four people that over-loaded your mind and caused that stroke?”

“It could be. I’ve thought about it all a lot since I told you. Every day. And by the way, it’s five people, not four.”

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I gasped so hard, I almost choked on my tongue. “What?”

“You know damn well old Uncle Carmine Antonosanti didn’t shoot Vinnie, girl. I was there.”

I nodded. “I thought so.” I looked in Rhoda’s unblinking eyes. “I’m not judging you this time. That’s between you and God.”

Rhoda nodded and sighed. Her tongue slid out of her mouth and licked her bottom lip, making a slurping noise. “So God’s takin’ me . . .

a piece at a time. First my baby boy . . . then my,” she paused and patted her chest and added in a cracked voice, “now . . . this.”

“You stop talking all that foolishness,” I scolded, shaking my finger in her face.

Rhoda gave me a thoughtful look. “Annette, you said I was a good wife, a good mother, and I’ve tried to be a good friend.”

“And all of that’s true!” The words seemed to burst out of my mouth.

“But I guess all of that didn’t matter. God
still
don’t like ugly.”

Rhoda’s eyes shifted and she added, “And I have a feelin’ that God ain’t through yet.”

“And He never will be,” I muttered. “But I’m still going to be your friend, Rhoda.”

At this point Rhoda sighed, nodded, and gave me a weary look before she wiped a huge tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m goin’ to be okay,” she rasped.

Before I could respond, Otis and Jade entered the room. Otis advised me to let Rhoda get some rest.

“You will come back tomorrow?” Otis asked. “You part of the family,” he added, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. I nodded and grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Rhoda had already closed her eyes and curled herself up like a ball.

I pulled the covers up to her neck and kissed her on the cheek. I was amazed that after all of the hundreds of egg facials I’d watched her give herself during our youth, her skin now felt like sandpaper.

“We’ll both be okay now,” I whispered in Rhoda’s ear, leaving so she could be with her husband and daughter.

I suddenly felt so warm all over that I had to fan my face. I let out a deep breath and I smiled.

And then I went home to be with my husband and my daughter.

The following is a sample chapter from Mary Monroe’s eagerly anticipated upcoming novel RED LIGHT WIVES.

It will be available in September 2004, wherever hardcover books are sold.

ENJOY!

Chapter 1

LULA HAWKINS

Sex was one thing I could always count on to cause trouble in my life.

The nightmare that led me from Barberton, Mississippi, to San Francisco began last April. In each city I had allowed the wrong man to control me with sex. I went from being a naive, lovesick country girl to a high-priced call girl.

Larry Holmes must have gotten his wife and me pregnant the same night because nine months later, she and I ended up in the same hospital on the same day to give birth to his babies. But that wasn’t bad enough. I didn’t even know that the man I’d been sleeping with for more than a year had a wife, until she coldcocked me in the parking lot at Jupiter’s Discount Department Store one afternoon five days ago.

Other than that vicious assault, there was nothing unusual about that day. It was a Friday, the chosen day of my workweek that I usually called in “sick,” so I could start my weekend early. I did this about every eight weeks. My high-maintenance relationship with Larry required a lot of my time. And even though I needed my mundane job at the Department of Motor Vehicles, I couldn’t let it interfere with my plans. It had taken me too long to find happiness and true love.

Except for death, nothing was going to stand in my way. I was not just a woman in love; I was a fool in love.

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Mar y Monroe

But at thirty-three and still single, you would have thought that I was blind, too. Because, so far, I had refused to acknowledge the red flags that Larry frequently waved in my face. Like him never taking me to his apartment or even letting me know where he lived. And, he would only allow me to call him at work or on his cell phone.

Larry had me right where he wanted me: in the dark. I couldn’t see the light even though it was right in my face. It was a sad position to be in at my age. But like I said, I was a fool in love.

One of the reasons for my condition was Larry made me feel special. He’d missed a day’s work without pay to paint my apartment, he worked on my car for free, and he often accompanied me to movies I knew he would hate.

“Girl, we are the only Black folks sittin’ up in this theater,” he’d complained with a chuckle and a loud yawn, the night I dragged him to see
My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

“We can sneak into that race car movie next door,” I said, pouting.

“Uh-uh, baby. This is the movie
you
wanted to see. All I care about is pleasin’ you. Just wake me up when it’s over.”

That’s the kind of talk he used to keep me in my place. And it worked.

It took a lot of energy to make a relationship work, and I was one hard-working woman. I figured that if I put a lot into it, I’d get a lot out of it. I didn’t even mind lending money to Larry because he always paid me back when he said he would. Even though he often borrowed the same amount of money the next day! I had girlfriends who did even more for their men, so I didn’t think that I was doing anything out of the ordinary.

Not long after I’d made the well-rehearsed call to my supervisor’s voice mail, complete with a weak voice and a hacking cough, Larry came by my apartment on his way to work for a “wake-up call.” Our sex life was so good we’d named it. I looked forward to our wake-up calls, which, by the way, sounded a lot better to me than the crude and overused term “booty call” that so many of the people I knew used. And I didn’t wait for Larry to approach me; I requested wake-up calls as often as he did.

Since Larry had stopped trying to talk me into getting an abortion, and was now helping me choose a name for our baby, I thought he RED LIGHT WIVES

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was as happy as I was about me being pregnant. He didn’t care how bloated and lopsided my face was, or how swollen my ankles were as I splashed around naked in the shower with him that morning.

“Lula Mae, uh, I don’t know if I can make it back this evenin’ for dinner. My . . . uh . . . cousins from D.C. are still at the house, see,”

Larry told me, tapping my navel and then rubbing the base of my belly with the palm of his hand. “They wanna go out to dinner again before they leave.”

Since Larry made so many sacrifices for me, I didn’t like to badger him too much. But when he disappointed me, I felt I had a right to let him know.

“Don’t you want me to go with y’all?” I whined. “I would like to meet some of your relatives.”

Larry tickled my chin and kissed my forehead. Then he spoke to me in the same slow, controlled way I’d heard him speak to foreigners who didn’t fully understand our language. “Now, baby, you better stay home and get some rest. Me and my cousins are drivin’ all the way to Biloxi, and you know how carsick you get these days. After you have the baby, I’ll take you up to D.C., honest to God.” I felt like a docile immigrant when he added, “Do I make myself clear?”