The next week passed without a call from the gentleman, but she was a woman who did not call men. And she did not call him until after the next week passed. Well, there is nothing wrong with calling your man-friend, not at all, but if he does not call you back after the third call, you should know he must not want to talk to you, barring his being in a hospital or such.
But Josephine, being so smart, she began to call him every day for a month or so, sometimes four or five times a day. Finally, a woman answered. It could have been a daughter or a sister, but she hadn’t let him talk about himself enough for her to know. So Josephine just gasped and hung up the phone.
Josephine was selfish, greedy and self-indulgent, but she had her pride. She tucked her hurt feelings away, quickly, somewhere in her heart and laughingly pretended to herself he had never mattered anyway. “He is a fool. He does not know what he has missed.”
Josephine thought the people in her neighborhood, and farther afield, looked up to her. That people looked to her for her wisdom and the good-sense advice she, unasked, volunteered to one and all. She thought that the church ladies, all the ladies, envied her clothes and style. She had never met anyone quite like who she felt she was. She was actually some form of sadist in that many people were hurt by her mouth in their business. Or she was a fool. She never ever questioned herself. She thought, “I have too much sense for some people! That’s why they stay away from me! They don’t want to hear the truth!” She ran potential friends away from herself all the time.
Josephine did have beautiful feminine hands and kept them professionally manicured. But even in the beauty of her hands she could not conceal the cruelty and greed and graspingness in her heart. It showed in the way she grasped, clutched and held things. She laughed the hardest at hurtful things spoken of others, particularly of women. Though her hatreds were not strong, they were fairly constant and full of green poisons. The eagle never swooped down low or flew long over her house and trees. Her spirit must have been outside cloudily surrounding her house.
In the times there had been some misery in the houses around hers, Josephine’s spirit had been somewhat content. But, now that she thought her closest neighbors seemed on their way to some kind of future, her spirit was outside roaming in the rain. And the eagle would sail away from her screaming spirit.
While Wynona was going through her different little dreams on her way to moving away to her new house, Vinnie spent more time in her “thinking” chair, staring through the window watching for the eagle as her thoughts hung around her mind.
The thought of Betha and the way she treated her mother had stayed on Vinnie’s mind for several weeks; even after Betha had hugged her. She thought of her own grown children. Richard could be on his own without her help except for emergencies. She would pay for Delores’ college tuition and books until she graduated. “But can I count on them when I need them? When I am old and can no longer work like I do? They are all I have. I have given my life for them; as I should have because they are mine.”
She thought of Fred, whom she loved though she thought she only thought of him because there was no other man in her life and there had been that one night. With him. She got weak in her knees when she remembered that night almost three years ago. “That good, good man. I have kept him out of my life because of my children.”
Her mind turned, again, to memories of her relationship with Fred from the very beginning. She remembered seeing him around town for the last ten or twelve years. He always seemed somehow beyond her station in life; she was married and had two children, but she remembered noticing him as though from the corner of her eye and mind.
Fred had always been a mannerable man. Worked hard and was prosperous. They always said “Good morning” or “Good evening” as they passed each other. After her husband left, he began to say a few more pleasant things as they kept moving on about their business. Over the years, the extra words lengthened and they began to stop and move to the side of the sidewalk or aisle or whatever, his hand on her elbow, moving her out of the way of passersby. They talked longer. He made her laugh. And he made her wonder why he paid any attention to her at all.
Vinnie knew women, many women, liked him and would welcome his attention. “Well, this ain’t nothin. He’s just bein mannerly.” Then, he asked her out to dinner. She had stuttered, startled, saying, “I . . . ah . . . I’ll think about it,” as she rushed away from him.
After that time, when she was going somewhere and saw him ahead in her path, she would wave at him and turn to go another way. Embarrassed for some reason she did not know. But Fred finally caught her and asked again, “When are you going to go to dinner with me, Ms. Escape Artist?” He wouldn’t let her go until she answered him.
Vinnie laughed softly to herself, thinking back, “I know my eyes were wild because I was tryin to think of how my hair looked and why I had to put that ole hat on. Did it show where I had thrown that hem up on my coat and it had a button on it that did not match because I couldn’t find the one that had come off. I knew I looked like a crazy woman.”
But Fred had smiled down at her from his tall height with the pretty white gap teeth beneath the neat mustache. “I remember thinkin what smooth skin he had and wonderin if he shaved every day. Oh, and that whiff of men’s cologne. All those things made me wonder: Why does he want to bother with me? I don’t have a thing to wear! To dinner!? Is this man makin fun of me?” She shook her head. “No . . . he looked too sincere . . . and serious.” Fred wouldn’t let her arm go as he smiled down at her and said, “What’s wrong? You think I’m goin to hurt you or make you pay the bill?” Then he laughed and it relaxed her. She liked his laugh.
Now Vinnie laughed at herself, “Oh, Lord, I said yes. I didn’t know what I was gonna do. What was I gonna do? I must have been crazy. I turned to go away from him without sayin when we would go out, but he hollered out, ‘Friday? Six o’clock! I’ll be at your house on time. White folks’ time!’ I just nodded ‘yes’ and hurried on away from there. I was embarrassed and delighted, confused and wonderin what to wear, what to wear!”
Vinnie had been happy as she said, like a fool! A first date in eighteen years! Married at seventeen, a mother of one child at eighteen and then another child, and, now, eighteen years later. She had been thirty-seven years old acting like a fourteen-year-old on her first date.
But Vinnie was ready! She did it some way. A trip to the secondhand store; a dress she could wash, starch and iron herself. The brushing of her daughter’s coat with a wet, stiff brush. Her daughter’s old shoes shined. She was breathless and near tears from her frustration at preparing for a date she did not really want anyway (she told herself). But flowing beneath, around and over all her frustrations was an alive feeling that made her so happy, so happy, so happy!
When the time arrived, so did he. She watched his car pull up, grabbed her daughter’s coat and started for the front door so she could be outside and he wouldn’t have to come in. Then she stopped herself, thinking, “This is my home. I don’t need to pretend I’m any better off than I am. If it’s good enough for me to live here, it’s good enough for him to see.” So she let him ring the bell and come in. She let him help her with her coat and let him close the door behind them.
As they stepped out on the porch she could now see, through his eyes, just all the things that needed doing. Painting, repairing, yard work. Vinnie looked skyward for her eagle, but she knew it would not be there, in the dark. She took a deep breath and just walked past all that work she never had time to do and Richard had seldom done and Delores was out of the question.
Fred opened his car door and helped her into his shiny, spick-and-span car. And they were off—to dinner. The restaurant was fancy and the food was good. When he brought her home, he asked for another date. “Next Friday?” They had talked so warmly, so comfortable and she had laughed so effortlessly and real, she said “yes” before she could stop to think. After he leaned over to kiss her on her forehead, she went into her house thinking, “What did I say ‘yes’ for? I have nothin to wear. Can’t wear this dress again. This is all too much work!” But she slept warmly, pleased and full; a full, good night’s sleep without even a dream.
Vinnie thought of Fred each day and night of the next week. At the end of the week came letters from her children and she had to push Fred out of her mind. Richard had written he needed some new thing and Delores wanted to go to the hairdresser; “For a change! It’s been a whole month, Mama!” Their letters made her tired and depressed because she wanted to meet their needs, but each new need was like a new rock put in her arms to hold and balance along with the other heavier ones dealing with her jobs.
She did the same washing and ironing of the same outfit from the date last week. Fred picked her up looking at her with appreciative eyes again. He told her she looked wonderful, fresh and so good. They took a long drive this time to another very nice place. Fred even ordered wine with dinner.
As the evening ended he wanted to show her his home. She was thoughtful a moment, then said “alright” because he was a gentleman and mannerable.
It was a very nice house that held no telltale signs of a woman’s hand in it. A very mannish living room and bedroom. Fred said, “A twice-a-week housekeeper kept the kitchen clean and stocked and all that.” Vinnie smiled and turned to go back out his front door.
Fred took her arm, stopping her, as he said, “Don’t worry, Vinnie. I’m not going to do anything to make you unhappy with me. I want to see you again . . . and again and again. I don’t want to run you away from me. Foolishness is not my game.” He started taking off her coat, gently. “So rest your coat and sit down anywhere you think you’ll be comfortable, and I will fix us a drink and put some music on.” She allowed herself to be led.
He put on some Bobby “Blue” Bland as he fixed the drinks and they even did a little slow dancing. Before the evening ended a little smooth Miles Davis and Billie Holiday. But by that time they had kissed, a little. Then Toni Braxton and Patti LaBelle, and the kissing got serious . . . real serious. None of it, honestly, was planned. Fred did not mean to misuse a dinner date with Vinnie, but . . .
Life and heart, body nor soul asks permission or makes appointments to come in or out to play . . . and they joined the party.
Suddenly the kiss their lips wouldn’t let go of was stretched out on the couch. Clothes were up and some were down. It had been ten years or so since Vinnie had been in a man’s arms. She tried to will her body to calm down, sit up straight and act like a lady. But her body answered, “Awwwwh, hell, why? Come on, plleassssse.”
Fred almost helped her. He whispered, “Vinnie, will you love me if we do this? I don’t want you to be disgusted with me.” Vinnie, panties still on, was grateful for the moment allowing her to get back to her senses. She thought she was straightening her body to slip out from half under him as she raised her back and buttocks up to him and the poor man said, “Ohhh, Lord.”
Then she tried to place her legs on the floor to help herself up and only one foot touched the floor, which left her in an open position and Fred groaned, “Mercy, mercy mercy.” Then because everything was not in its proper place, he got up, picked her up and carried her into the bedroom and laid a whimpering Vinnie on the bed. He gently took her remaining clothes off, which she tried, a little, to hold on to because her underwear was not so good to see, and she didn’t want to do this at the same time she did want to do it.
But his eyes were so full of love, he could not see, nor think of, any underwear he took off of her. He folded and set each worn piece aside, then undressed himself, never taking his eyes off her eyes. He slipped between the covers, pressing his body to hers as she pressed her body to his . . . then the music began. He strummed her body like a B. B. King guitar and she sang. And every time they reached the end of their song, they kissed and his hard strong body started a new piece of music and she always knew the song because she sang and sang and sang.
Finally, at last, she embraced him and said, “I just HAVE to go.” He held her tightly, then helped her up, stroking her body as she moved away from him. They dressed and he’d stop to kiss her. They dressed some more, then kissed again. She combed her hair and he kissed her neck from behind her. He tied his tie, they kissed again til he threw his tie to the side. They put on their coats and kissed at the door as she opened it. They walked out to a misty, rainy, early morning. He took her home. They didn’t talk. At her door he asked when he could see her again. She answered, “We can’t do that no more. I didn’t mean for all that to—”
He interrupted her, “ ‘All that??’ ” That’s what you call it? I call it love. I love you.”
“I . . . think I love you too, Fred. But this ain’t what—”
He brushed her words away. “Then, I will see you tomorrow.”
“Not to do that again, Fred. I can’t do that again. Dinner, maybe. But not . . . that love.” Then she had slipped through her door and closed it because she just didn’t know what else to say. The next morning she blushed whenever she thought of what had happened, even all through the day.
She blushed when she saw him again. She agreed to go to dinner again, but she refused to go to his house. And it was killing him. He said, “I want to marry you. Is that what you want?”
“I have two kids, Fred.”
“I love you, Vinnie. I will love your children.” He didn’t know them yet.
Vinnie smiled up to him. “Let’s take time and see. I love you, too.”
It was only natural that as he became more involved with Vinnie he would see the way her life was. They didn’t have much time together because she was always rushing off to some job. Richard was a senior in high school, Delores was a junior at that time.
Fred began to offer suggestions. “Why doesn’t Richard have a part-time job? I’ll see what I can do for him. Then he can help hisself and you and save for his going off to college.” He did find a job for Richard, but Richard didn’t show up half the time and the friend that had hired him for Fred fired him, saying, “He just wants to listen to his music and pat his feet.”