Chapter Seven
“Was that my boy I heard?” The singsong voice coming from the dining room was heard prior to Norman, Paige, or Miss Nettie ever even making their way into the room.
“Oh, he's here all right, Mrs. Vanderdale,” Miss Nettie called out as she looked back over her shoulder at Paige while pushing the swinging dining room door at the same time. “My oh my is he here.” Miss Nettie hustled her way through that door with Paige in tow as if there were a three-alarm fire they were trying to escape. There may not have been a fire, but Miss Nettie knew one thing for certain: there was at least about to be some smoke blown. And where there's smoke . . .
“Son! My only son. Come give Mumsy some love.”
Paige watched as a pale-skinned woman with blond hair, and a house coat that would have given both Maude and Mrs. Roper a run for their money, brushed by her and embraced Norman.
“Mom, please,” Norman said as his mother began planting kisses all over his face as if he were a five-year-old child. “Come on, Mom,” he pleaded to no avail, finally just dropping his arms down to his sides like dead weight and giving in. He rolled his eyes up in his head while his mother smothered him with kisses.
“You don't come visit as often as I'd like, so I have to make up for times missed,” his mother said, planting one more smuckerroo right on his nose.
“Come on, Mother, let's not start with the whole âyou never come by to see me' routine. You know I make it by as often as I can.”
“Oh, hogwash. You're too busy at that ridiculous peasant-collar job of yours.” His mother shooed her hand.
“It's blue collar,” Norman corrected his mother, not noticing the offended look on Paige's face, seeing how she worked at the same place of employment. “And don't say it with your nose up in the air so. Miss Nettie here's job is blue collar. I'm sure she might find that offensive.”
“Oh please.” She shooed her hand again, never taking her eyes off of Norman as she straightened his already-straightened collar. “Nettie is family. I don't even consider her part of the hired help anymore. It's just like having a dog. Once it's been around for so long, it's like part of the family.” She chuckled, planting an unforeseen peck on her son's lips.
“What the . . . ?” Paige started under her breath, lightweight lunging toward her mother-in-law until Miss Nettie's grip on her hand tightened and pulled her back.
Paige's words reminded Mrs. Vanderdale that someone other than her and her son were in the room. She turned and addressed Miss Nettie. That's when, for the first time, she noticed Paige. “Why, Miss Nettie, you didn't tell me one of your kinfolk was in town again.” She lowered her voice but with a stern tone and wagging finger in Miss Nettie's face she said, “I thought we had this talk before. Now I don't mind your people coming for a visit every now and again and sharing your quarters, but you must give Mr. Vanderdale and me a heads-up. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma'am, but Iâ” Miss Nettie started before Mrs. Vanderdale cut her off.
“Now I hope you saw to it that the kitchen staff made extra for your guest. You know we are already going to start having an extra mouth to feed whenever my Norman comes around now that he's a married man.” She sharply turned to Norman. “Speaking of which, son, where is that lovely bride of yours? Why, I can't wait to welcome her to the family.” Mrs. Vanderdale began looking over Norman's shoulder toward the swinging door leading to the living room.
“She's right there, Mother.” Norman nodded toward Paige.
His mother turned around only to find Miss Nettie and her supposed kinfolk standing there. She continued looking at the doorway. “Where, son?”
“Right here, Mother. Standing right here in your face.” Norman walked around his mother and went and stood next to Paige. “Mumsy, this is my wife, Paige. Paige, this isâ”
“Mrs. Vanderdale!” Miss Nettie shouted as she quickly went to her boss's aid.
Norman joined Nettie in keeping his mother on her feet as she appeared faint and weak, as if her knees had given out.
“Mom, are you okay?” Norman asked worriedly. “Miss Nettie, help get Mother over to the chair. And please have Stuart fetch her some water.”
Miss Nettie just stood there, torn, not moving a muscle.
“Please, Miss Nettie, why are you just standing there?” Norman asked.
How could Miss Nettie tell the young lad that she didn't want to leave that room for even a second? She didn't want to miss what she felt was a long time coming and overdue. “Oh shucks,” she said under her breath and then scurried over to the swinging door that separated the dining room from the kitchen. “Stuart, Mrs. Vanderdale needs a glass of water, quickly.” Miss Nettie hurried back to her employer's side. Under ordinary circumstance she would have gotten the water herself. But to her this was a long-awaited extraordinary circumstance.
Within seconds, Paige stood to the side and watched as a black man with salt-and-pepper hair dressed in a long-tail tux took over a glass of water to Mrs. Vanderdale. Norman took it from his hand.
“Thank you, Stuart,” Norman said with a nod, then turned and placed the glass to his mother's lips.
She took a few sips and after a moment or two, she seemed to regain her strength.
“Mom, what's going on?” Norman questioned. “Have you been feeling okay? Are you sick again and haven't told me?” He looked to Miss Nettie for an answer.
“No, no, not as far as I know. She's been just fine,” Miss Nettie assured him.
Norman felt his mother's forehead. “She doesn't seem to have a fever.”
“I think it's your fever that's got her feeling a certain kind of way,” Miss Nettie said between her teeth with a knowing look on her face.
“Huh, what?” Norman was confused by Miss Nettie's statement. He looked to Paige to see if perhaps she had any idea what the older woman was talking about. He always did have the hardest time deciphering what he referred to as Miss Nettie's riddles.
Miss Nettie looked to Paige as well, whose expression told the older woman that the new Mrs. Vanderdale knew exactly what the punch line was. Paige decided to translate to her husband.
“She's talking about you having jungle fever, Norman. Your mother is in shock that your new wife is black,” Paige said.
“Please, my mother doesn't care about what color you are.” Norman turned to face his mother. “Do you, Mother?”
His mother couldn't speak. She was still trying to catch her breath. But her dilating pupils begged her son to realize that he'd hit the nail on the head.
“Mother, is that what has you acting this way? The fact that Paige is black?”
Realizing his mother was still trying to catch her breath, Norman offered his mother another sip of water, which she gulped down. She wiped the dripping water from her chin and was finally able to speak and the only words she could manage to force out were, “Who on earth names their African American daughter Paige?”
“Mom!” Norman said, embarrassment peeking around his tone.
“Well, I'm sorry, son, but I thought I raised you better than that.”
“What?” Paige had held her tongue long enough.
No one noticed Miss Nettie standing off to the side with a satisfied grin across her mouth and her nose in the air as if she were sniffing roses instead of smoke.
“Oh, my, and I see she even has the attitude that comes along with it,” Mrs. Vanderdale said, grabbing her chest.
“That comes along with what?” Paige asked verbally while Norman asked with his eyes.
“With . . .” His mother motioned her index finger up and down the length of Paige's body. “With that.”
Paige took another step toward her mother-in-law.
“Hold on just a minute.” Norman put his arm out, stopping Paige from getting any closer to his dear mother. “Mother, I'm not clear on what you're trying to say here, but if it's what I think it is, disappointment in you would be describing how I feel without crossing the line of respect.”
“Norman, it's totally clear what your mother is implying,” Paige said. “But just in case you really don't understand, let me break it down for you.”
“Oh, gosh, and there she goes ready to start breaking things,” Mrs. Vanderdale panicked. “Nettie, put away all the china and crystal. I've caught glimpses of those reality shows and know how they like to throw glasses and stuff at each other.”
Paige's mouth fell to the floor. She wanted so badly to go off on her mother-in-law for stereotyping Paige, but then she realized she'd be going off on the wrong person. It was those trifling basketball and housewives she'd have needed to speak her piece with. She couldn't blame Mrs. Vanderdale for believing what her eyes showed her to be true on all these cable networks. Not only that, but Paige had to remember that she herself had lost control to the point where her hands had to be pried from another woman's head full of weave . . . a couple of times. She didn't categorize that as a “black thing” though. She categorized that as a woman out of control. And from the looks of things, if his mother kept it up, Norman was about to be out of control as well.
“Enough, Mother!” Norman spat. By now Miss Nettie had an arm full of dishes after starting the task her employer had instructed her to do. Stuart, who had remained silent off to the side waiting for Mrs. Vanderdale to finish her water so that he could take the glass back into the kitchen, began helping.
“Miss Nettie, Stuart, please leave the settings and excuse yourselves.” Norman looked to Paige. “Paige, can you go with them, grab a drink, appetizer, or something? I'd like to have a word with my mother.” He turned and shot his mother a condemning look. “Alone.”
“But . . .” Paige started. No way did she want to excuse herself from the room. She wanted to give her mother-in-law a piece of her mind. Or at least bear witness to her husband giving her a piece of his mind in her defense.
“Come on, honey.” Miss Nettie took Paige by her elbow after placing the dishes back on the table. “I make the sweetest tea mixed with lemonade that you'd ever want to taste.”
Paige didn't budge.
“Come on now.” Miss Nettie nudged her. “Trust me, God's got this.”
Paige finally gave in and allowed Miss Nettie to lead her off to the swinging door that led to the kitchen.
“Believe you me,” Miss Nettie said, “I don't want to miss it either. But don't worry, as long as I get to witness her finding out about that bun you got cooking in the oven, it'll make up for whatever I miss right here.”
Paige stopped in her tracks and stared at Miss Nettie, wondering how on God's green earth she knew she was pregnant. Because she was plus size and her dress was a little big, no way could that woman have realized she was showing.
Miss Nettie simply winked and said, “Child, you'd be surprised at what God shows me in my head before it ever manifest before my eyes. Now come on and get some of this sweet tea and lemonade. You need a break before we's get to round two.” Miss Nettie chuckled as they disappeared into the kitchen.
Chapter Eight
Paige sat at the nook in the enormous gourmet kitchen, sipping on the tea and lemonade concoction Miss Nettie had prepared for her. “Yummy, this is good,” Paige said after taking a sip. “What's in this besides lemonade and tea?” She held the glass to her eyes as if the ingredients to the magic potion would appear in writing on the glass.
“Family secret recipe,” Miss Nettie said as she moved about the kitchen among three other staff members, including Stuart.
Paige noticed how the staff were all African American. “That boss of yours is really something.” Paige spoke as if she and Miss Nettie were the only ones in the room.
“You mean your mother-in-law?” Miss Nettie chuckled. “You better go ahead and start claiming that woman for who she is. You done took vows with her only precious son.” Miss Nettie shook her head. “Like I be trying to tell them young girls at church: y'all think y'all just marrying the man, but honey, y'all marrying the wholeeeeee family.” Miss Nettie spread her arms out wide and grinned.
Paige found nothing funny as she took another sip of her drink.
Realizing she might be going a little too far, Miss Nettie exhaled and walked over to Paige. “I'm sorry, baby. I don't mean to make fun of the situation. It's just that I'm used to the ol' missus.”
“But she's demeaning and degrading. How do you get used to something like that?”
“Through prayer. When you see the person ain't gon' change, then you ask God to change you in order to deal with the person. But at the same time, you don't give up hope. You just keep praying for the person. Maybe one day after all is said and prayed, they just might change.”
“Humph, ain't that much praying in the world.” Paige twisted in the seat while rolling her eyes.
“Come on, now you know better. You's a God-fearing woman. Norman done told that much about you.”
“He has?” Paige was surprised. She never thought twice about whether Norman had ever spoken of her to his parents over the years of them knowing one another.
“Sure he has. Although he doesn't make it over here as much as his mother would like him to, when he did come, he dropped your name on more than a few occasions. Paige this and Paige that. I'd see how his eyes would light up whenever he'd say your name. Then when he had that attitude about you running off and finding Jesus, thinking you was better than everybody . . .” Miss Nettie laughed. “I knew right then and there why God had put you in his path. And I knew it would only be a matter of time before you showed up at this dinner table.”
Paige brushed off her blushing and her flattering chuckle. “Oh, Miss Nettie, I'm sure God shows you a lot, but trust me when I say Norman and me . . . it's not what you think.”
Miss Nettie let out a knowing laugh. “Oh, my dear. It's not what you think.” Miss Nettie walked off like she was taking a secret with her that only God and she knew.
Paige couldn't let her off the hook just that easy, though. She wanted in on the secret too. “Miss Nettie, what do you mean byâ”
“Daddy, next time I'm riding Sunrise and you're riding Champagne. Just like you, Champagne is getting a little rusty in his older years. I don't think you can keep up with Sunrise anymore,” a bouncing blonde said, entering the kitchen through the back patio sliding doors. Paige instantly noticed the resemblance, realizing she was the spitting image of Mrs. Vanderdale, minus about twenty-five years.
“Ahhh, watch it with the insults, young lady,” an older man following the young blonde said with a smile. “I'm still your father and I still hold the key to your trust fund.”
“Oh, Daddy, you know money doesn't mean everything to me.”
“Fine, then I guess I'll leave it to charity.”
“Now I didn't say all that. Money doesn't mean everything to me, but it means something.”
“It means enough, huh?” the older gentleman groaned.
“Like father, like daughter.” She laughed, removing the riding hat she'd donned. She shook her long blond hair before noticing Paige sitting at the table. “Hi.” She bounced over to Paige like Buffy the high school cheerleading captain. “You must be my brother's girl.” She raised her eyebrows up and down several times. She then put her arms on Paige's shoulders and pulled her up. “Let me get a look at who my brother chose to be a pest to and nag until death do them part.” She turned Paige around as she gave her the once-over. “Oooooh, and baby got back.” She swatted Paige on the rear end, which surprised the heck out of Paige, catching her off-guard.
“Oh, Samantha, stop it before you frighten the poor girl off,” the older gentleman stepped over and said, moving his daughter away from Paige. “You must forgive my daughter. In spite of her last name, she was raised by wolves; we just adopted her.” He laughed and pulled Paige in for a hug. “Paige, I take it?” He pulled back, awaiting confirmation.
“Uh, yes,” Paige said. She was completely dumbfounded. Based on the reaction of her mother-in-law discovering that Norman had married outside of his race, she'd expected the same thing from the rest of the family. She remained reserved with her guard slightly up. She looked to Miss Nettie who gave her a smile and a nod, letting her know it was safe to let the sister-in-law and the father-in-law in.
“It's a delight to meet you. I'm Norman Senior, but you can call me Dad, of course. Welcome to the family, daughter. “He brought Paige in for another hug, kissed her on the cheek, and released her. “Oh, forgive me. I didn't mean to dirty you up. Samantha and I have been out riding. I must go get cleaned up and changed. If you'll excuse me, I'll see you at the dinner table. Yes?”
“Uh, yes,” Paige said and watched Mr. Vanderdale go walking up a back set of stairs off the kitchen.
“Guess I better go get cleaned up too,” Samantha said. “Sorry we're late.” She put her hand to her mouth as if whispering. “The old man doesn't realize he's getting up in age and can't keep up like he used to. I had to fall back several times.”
“No need to apologize.” Paige smiled.
“Then I, too, shall see you at the dinner table,” Samantha said and then turned to Miss Nettie. “Miss Nettie, where's Mumsy? Somewhere having a heart attack at the news of having a black daughter?” She'd said it with such a straight face, Paige couldn't believe it.
“What do you think?” Miss Nettie said with a knowing look on her face. “Your brother's out there giving her a talking-to now.”
“Hmmm.” Samantha turned to face Paige. “Don't take it personal. Miss Nettie here doesn't. Nobody does. It's just how Mother is. As a matter of fact, she has no idea that that is how she is. Kind of like the ugly duckling that is clueless of the fact that it's not a swan. We all just let her be, hoping one day she'll walk past a mirror and see her true reflection.” Samantha winked, shrugged her shoulders, and moseyed up the same staircase her father just had.
Paige exhaled and sat back down. “Lord, what did I get myself into?”
Miss Nettie walked over to Paige with the pitcher of sweet tea and lemonade. “I don't know, missy.” She refilled Paige's glass. “But either one of two things God's gonna do for you.”
“Oh yeah, what's that?” Paige asked curiously.
Miss Nettie leaned in real close and said, “He's either gonna get you out of it, or bring you through it.”
Paige shrugged her misunderstanding.
“Oh you'll see,” Miss Nettie assured her. “You'll see.”