After she spooned the steaming food from the foam container into two china dishes, she placed their meal on the dining room table, then poured sparkling water into two iced glasses and arranged her mother’s favorite silverware on a folded linen napkin. Standing back to admire the setting, she felt everything was just perfect.
The cozy dining room was filled with treasures from an era of long ago. The walls were painted a rich antique white, red brocade drapes were tasseled and tied back over lace sheers on the double-framed window, blood red carpeting covered the floor of the modest little house.
The cherrywood dining furniture gleamed elegantly from years of polishing and loving care. Kim lit two candles on the table, then placed a large floral arrangement on the buffet.
“My Lord, Kim, what have you done?” Jewel exclaimed as she was being led into the room by her daughter, who was doing her best to suppress her excitement and not spoil the surprise.
Then in a voice that appeared to issue forth from some sequestered cathedral, Jewel said the customary grace. A polite amen brought the prayer to a whispered close. And Kim felt the healing begin.
“So that’s what happened, Mama,” said Kim, laying her head on her mother’s lap.
Jewel smoothed the back of Kim’s head, feeling more content than she had in years. She swayed her upper body back and forth as if in concert with an old spiritual.
“Do you believe in the Lord, Kim? Do you want to be saved?”
“Yes, Mama. But I’ve sinned. Will God ever forgive me?”
“He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved. Get on your knees and pray to Him, and He’ll hear, for God is gracious, ’cause the Lord knows your heart. Trust in his words: ‘If my people which are called by my name shall humble themselves and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and I will forgive their sin and I will heal . . .’ ”
“You’re going to be proud of me,” Kim told her mother. She promised to pray every night, get baptized at the church her mother and father belonged to, go to church faithfully every Sunday, stop fornicating with Bill until they were married. Ouch! That last one was tough.
“Been knowing Bill for a while. Didn’t like him first off.” Jewel smiled, pausing. “But that was around the time Ollie had gotten sick, and I didn’t cotton particularly to anybody’s company thereabouts.”
Kim pulled herself up on her knees, looking like a five-year-old child with her eager, wide-eyes half-stance. “But you liked him, didn’t you Mama?”
“ ’Course I did,” Jewel answered, blushing slightly. “Perfect gentleman he is. Make a right fine husband. I’m sure your father would app —”
“Approve?”
“Yes,” she said. Yet Jewel kept it to herself about Bill coming to see her that morning. He had given her a beautiful bouquet of white roses. They’d talked and talked until almost noon. He’d confided in her that he planned to ask Kim to marry him soon, but wanted the approval of her and Mr. Lee beforehand. Jewel told him there was no need to approach her husband, because he was unable to communicate, but they were as one, and she felt she could speak for her husband under the circumstances.
“He hasn’t asked me to marry him yet, Mama. But I’m hoping he will, despite what happened today. I feel it in my heart.” She stood, giving her mother’s hand a pat. Kim was enjoying their conversation. She went over to the sofa and sat down, propping her elbow on the arm, resting her forehead in her hand. “I want a marriage like yours and Daddy’s, Mama,” she said respectfully. “Tell me what to do, Mama. I’ve never felt like this about a man before. I’m scared.”
“No need to be scared. Be happy. Be still.” Jewel closed her eyes as she continued rocking, a peaceful expression on her face. “When I first saw your father, I knew I was in love. It was love at first sight for both of us. Eternity shone in our lips and eyes, bliss in our brows bent. Two people have to see each other for the first time at the same time, or it doesn’t work. It worked for us, and I’ve been a happy woman ever since. You know what it feels like to really be happy with a man?” She opened her eyes slowly, gauging her daughter’s response.
Kim was spellbound by the loving glow she saw on her mother’s face. She shook her head no, as her mother continued. “When a woman’s truly and completely happy, when she talks she sings, when she walks she dances. When you’re thinking about how much you love that man, you envision a beautiful sunset, an old love song, with heaven only knows what thoughts to keep it company.”
Kim listened and saw a side of her mother that she didn’t know existed. She was compassionate, caring, and bore so much love in such a frail body that Kim was overwhelmed with affection.
Jewel shook her head, remembering when they’d taken Ollie away; the strength being pulled from his eyes was more than she could stand. “Those first few weeks after Ollie was gone I couldn’t bear to be without him. I dreamed of him lying beside me day and night, breathed the scent of him on my pillow” — her eyes closed again, inhaling, as if the scent still lingered — “just a breath of him. I savored those precious moments as if they were the last gulps of oxygen in an airless world. But the anguish of the moment of truth is devastating. The anguish finally leaves, but the echoes remain.” She whispered the last few words into the stilled air, which was filled with silence.
Kim looked up into her mother’s tear-streaked face. “The only other time Ollie and I have been apart was when I was in the hospital having you.” She choked on her words as Kim wiped both their tears with the soft fringes of her mother’s shawl.
“I love you, Mama,” said Kim, hugging her around the neck. “I’m sorry for the selfish way I’ve been acting. Will you ever forgive me?”
Jewel placed her hands gently on Kim’s shoulders and looked her steadily in her cherubic face. A fresh stream of tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice as she said, “No, I want you to forgive me.”
“Wha —”
Jewel silenced her, pressing a tender finger over her warm lips, “I, too, am guilty of being selfish, more so than you. I was lonely. So very lonely. Missing that physical touch from your father, a simple hug, a kiss, a quick embrace, or maybe just a little emotional support. But not realizing, and not knowing, until Katherine . . . yes . . . your wonderful Aunt Katherine enlightened me. She told me all those feelings and all those needs could be and should be shared and felt with the other person that I loved dearly . . . my daughter.”
Kim broke down on her knees crying tears of joy that dropped like petals into a pond. She was ready for love.
Everyone was seated, waiting anxiously in the family room, when Jackson entered like Santa Claus carrying a large black plastic bundle on his back. He passed out the small items first that were wrapped and tagged with everyone’s names. There were burgundy T-shirts for the entire family, with their names embossed on the back in glossy white lettering, and the state of Mississippi outlined on the front.
Having received her gift the day before, Autumn sat content with her Raggedy Ann doll tucked on her right, and a naked Suzy Scribbles on her left. Her mother had taken Suzy’s clothes and washed them, though Autumn couldn’t understand why. Her eyes darted back and forth to the laundry room, waiting to hear the buzzer from the dryer.
Ginger opened the large box for Autumn, who didn’t seem to be interested in the two Sunday dresses that were fit for a little princess. Ginger could tell by the furrow in her brows that she was still mad about Suzy’s clothes. Ginger didn’t want to hurt her baby’s feelings and remind her that they smelled of strong urine from at least two drenchings.
Jason’s box was empty, except for a card inside explaining that his gift was in the garage. He quickly went out to find it, leaving the others tearing open boxes, with wads of wrapping paper and ribbon cluttering the floor.
Christian was relieved when he saw a chemistry set containing 101 experiments. It was the biggest one he’d ever seen. Feeling himself almost a man, too old for kisses, he extended his hand, giving Jackson a macho handshake and thanking him.
Sierra was getting nervous; her gift was the last one in the bag. Jumping up and down with excitement, she managed to tear open the paper. There was a deep shiny black box with large bold red letters on it. Layers of white tissue paper covered three elegant girl’s party dresses, each one prettier than the next, trimmed with tiny seed pearls and Victorian lace.
“Jackson, they’re beautiful,” said Ginger, totally surprised at the quality of the fabric and his ability to select such exquisite clothes.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He sat down beside her, placed his arm around her shoulder, and whispered in her ear. “My sister Shirley went shopping with me. She picked out the dresses for Sierra and Autumn.”
“You done good . . . you done real good,” she said nodding her head, smiling at the euphoria on Sierra’s face.
“I haven’t forgotten about you.” He walked through the discarded empty boxes and retrieved a tiny box hidden at the bottom of the plastic bag. Resting on one knee, he placed the box in her hand. He pressed his lips against hers, then gently covered her mouth with kisses. Her heart skipped a beat at his touch. A loud chorus of throats clearing interrupted their embrace.
“Man . . . Jackson.” Jason came in, elated. “Thanks a lot for the basketball rim.” He hugged Jackson around the shoulder, then shook his hand. “I’ve got the tools out to hook it up, but I can’t find a Phillips screwdriver. Do you know where one is?”
Ginger shook her head while opening her gift. Jackson kept tools in the garage, which also housed an impressive work station. But his tools were not stored neatly in the drawers and cabinets. Wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, channel locks, sockets and ratchets, and hammers were strewn carelessly in kitchen drawers, under the kitchen-sink garbage disposal, in the furnace room, under the sink in their bathroom, next to the satellite unit in their bedroom, in the exercise room where the burglar alarm system was mounted, and in the west Florida room where the kids kept their bikes in the winter months. Consequently, he could never find the right one when he needed it. He walked out with Jason to look for the screwdriver.
Ginger draped a black down coat over her shoulders and ran out into the blistering cold. Jason was busy with the snow blower, plowing away. Placing her arms around Jackson’s waist as he stood on a ladder, she hugged him, burying her face against his firm buttocks. “Thank you, sweetheart. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
He eased himself down the ladder, tilting her head back, planting a series of kisses around her face. “How could I forget about my baby.” He took her hand in his, admiring his purchase. “You like it?” And before she could answer, he said, “Now, if you don’t like it, the jeweler assured me that I could send it back in the mail.”
“Sweetheart, I love it. I really do. But didn’t you spend a lot of money?”
“Our anniversary is in two weeks. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. You don’t like the clothes I pick out for you anyway, so what else could I buy?” She shrugged her shoulders, extended her left hand, and admired the exquisite diamond ring.
“You remembered our anniversary . . . that’s sweet, honey.”
Jason, completing his task, put his arm around his mother’s shoulder and lifted her arm to appraise the gift. He nodded his head. “Nice.” He placed his balled fists in the center of Ginger’s back, guiding her back toward the house. “Now get, Jackson and me got some work to do.”
Jackson winked at Ginger as she reentered the house. Looking back over her shoulder, she noticed the work Jackson said he planned on doing inside the garage hadn’t been touched. What had he done all day today? She’d have to remember to ask him later.
“Who’s leading, honey?” Ginger asked, leaning her head over Jackson’s shoulder on the back of the recliner.
“Detroit.” He stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth, spilling several kernels onto his lap. “They shut down Jordan; he’s hardly scored. I thought you were gonna watch the game with me.”
“I’m almost finished washing the girls’ hair. It’s almost halftime anyway. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Want me to bring you anything back from downstairs?” she asked, walking toward the doorway.
“Bring me up a Diet Pepsi,” he called after her.
Later that evening, Ginger and Jackson sat sipping Christian Brothers brandy and ginger ale as the final seconds of the game ticked away. James Edwards was the high scorer with twenty-one points, one more than Michael Jordan’s paltry twenty, to lead the Pistons to another victory as they edged closer to their second championship.
“Sweetheart, I meant to tell you something before you —”
Jackson placed his drink on the coffee table in front of him and turned toward his wife. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he removed the gold barrette, easing the bobby pins from her french twist, freeing her hair. “See . . . I’ve known for a while, Ginger.” He ran his fingers through her thinned hair and cupped the back of her head, bringing her face close to his. “I just wasn’t ready to see you get upset again. I know how much it hurts you to lose your hair.”
Ginger’s eyes filled with tears. “You know . . . and you didn’t say anything?”
“Ginger, try to understand. This is something that happens to you that I’m powerless to help you with. I can’t blame anyone for your pain. I can’t go out and buy you something to replace something that’s broken. I can’t fix it with tools. I can’t beat the shit out of somebody that’s hurting you . . . and I can’t screw away the pain.”
“Jackson . . . I’m going to be all right this time. I’m not going to feel sorry for myself, I just want to be sure that it doesn’t bother you. I know you keep telling me it doesn’t, but for some reason, I feel like I’m letting you down again every time it happens.”
He stroked her hair lovingly. “Ginger, I know it’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for something you can’t control. Hell, I know it won’t be easy. But try to remember, I’d feel the same way about you even if your hair never grew back. I’m in love with what’s in here,” he pointed to her heart. “Hair doesn’t make a person or a woman attractive.”