Sixty-Nine (4 page)

“You sure you have to go?”

“I do.” She turned back toward the sink.

“Maybe another day.”

“Maybe.”

“Sounds to me like you doubt it.”

“At times I doubt there’ll be any day. Nothing’s promised, as they say. Not even tomorrow. Really, you just never know.”

“True. But I do know one thing. You are amazing,”

“So are you.” She meant it, but didn’t sound like she did.

He took the few steps that led to her, and took her hair into his hand, lifting her long, thin braids that flowed behind her
back, lifting it high enough to find the nape of her ballerina long neck. He bent down to meet her dark brown skin that still
smelled of her sexy body oil, moving the collar of her robe.

She sort of raised her shoulder to pull away by an inch or so and gave a nervous, single, small giggle. Her right hand was
shut tight.

He leaned down farther, and under the bright fluorescent lighting he placed a kiss on the back of her neck with full lips.
His eyes stayed aimed at where he’d kissed, and he asked, “What’s that?”

“What?”

“That. On the back of your neck.”

“Oh, nothing It’s just a scar.” She took her hair from his hand and turned toward him, just praying he referred to the tattoo
on her shoulder that read,
Maestro
.

“From surgery?”

She cleared her throat, knowing this wasn’t about her tattoo. “Just some stitches. It was a long time ago. You know how kids
are. I was a tomboy.” Her giggle was minor. She again tightened the belt.

“Oh. Okay.” He took a step back, eyes still looking curious. He watched her readjust her hair, and then he walked toward the
door.

She took a short breath and turned toward him again, speaking to his back. “By the way. What’s your last name?”

He barely turned his head to her, facing the door. His reply was delayed and low. “Collins.”

She nodded once. “Mine is Palo,” she said, giving her maiden name.

He nodded once. “Nice to meet you, Rebe Palo.” A gradual smile spread on his face and he walked out, back into the bedroom.
Seconds later he collapsed onto his back, on the disheveled bed with his arm over his face, shielding his eyes.

She closed the bathroom door.

Walked back to the sink.

Grabbed the upside-down drinking glass that was on the paper doily and filled it with tap water.

She took a sip, swallowing three pills that had been in her hand. She sipped again, and gulped.

Leaning her hand along the sink, she looked down at her bare feet.

And even though she accomplished her sexual resolution so soon, Rebe Palo-Richardson, quiet as a mouse, cried like a newborn
baby.

A
homemade milk-chocolate cake with a rainbow menagerie of Happy Birthday candles sat on the white-tile kitchen counter in
a crystal cake server.

The new morning of the new year had transformed into very early evening. Half past six to be exact, on a Friday. The leftover
sun was soon to disappear.

“There are good men out there, now Magnolia. Not every man is going to cheat on you.”

Magnolia’s seventy-two-year-old grandmother wore wisdom on her oval face like a tattoo. She looked at least thirteen years
younger. With her slender frame and straight-from-the-bottle, saucy beige hair color, she was attractive. And her mind was
sharp as a tack.

Magnolia called her Gigi, short for Grandma Grace. Widowed, Gigi lived alone in her home in Broward County in a rundown neighborhood
that statistically was considered a high crime area, but years ago it was the complete opposite, much more upscale.

Magnolia said to her grandmother, “I hear you say not every man will cheat, but I haven’t seen proof of it yet. And honestly,
I really don’t care anymore.” In her cargo pants and eyelet peasant top, Magnolia kicked off her gold flats, getting comfortable.
Saying she didn’t care was common for her.

The fifteen-hundred-square-foot, two-bedroom house, which at the moment smelled like some serious soul food and homemade cheddar
biscuits, was the same home Magnolia grew up in, on Casablanca Drive. The weather-beaten, white house with the taller than
tall sweet gum tree in the front, was built in the late 1950s. Ida and Norman Grace bought it brand-new. It had an empty swimming
pool that hadn’t been filled in a decade, and a long, narrow driveway that led to a pink one-car garage, and a front door
that was the same color.

Right around the time they’d bought the house, Magnolia’s mother, June Butler, gave birth to Magnolia. June actually lived
three streets down in a rented house on Plantation Boulevard. But just when Magnolia reached four weeks old, they brought
her to live with them after June had her breakdown, which her mother blamed on baby blues, but everyone on the outside knew
she had issues. Issues that her parents hoped being a young mother would cure. But it only made it worse.

Being that it was the anniversary of Magnolia’s birth, she was right where she wanted to be.

Magnolia sat in the family room on the contemporary brown sofa she’d bought her grandmother, the oversized sofa that rested
on the new ivory ceramic tiled flooring she had put in for Gigi last month. Magnolia also wore the silver link chain with
the black angel charm her grandmother had given her when she was a teen. She never took it off.

Gigi wore her usual red-rimmed eyeglasses. She leaned back in her two-decade-old tan recliner with her feet propped up. “Oh
yes you do, baby girl. I never believe you when you say you don’t care. You care.”

Magnolia gave a certain look. “This time, please believe me.”

Gigi’s age-defined hands rested in her lap, fingers interlocked. She still wore her emerald-cut wedding ring. Never took it
off either. “I felt the same way after your mom’s dad ended up being a rolling stone. But your Grandpa Norm came into my life
and proved me wrong. He was a good man, Magnolia. We were together for more than forty-two years before he died.” She wore
fluffy house shoes, her legs crossed at the ankles.

“Oh, I know he was. But I’ve found Grandpa Norm to be the exception to the rule, unfortunately. These men have the mentality
of
too many women, too little time
. I have no
time
for that.”

Gigi pointed her light brown eyes as if they were fingers. “Now don’t you talk like that. You can’t put all that mess in your
head, otherwise you’ll start bringing it to you. You have to be positive. God is getting you ready for your ordained mate.
All these other men are part of the preparation. You have to pray, baby girl. And just when it looks like you’re getting more
of the same, pray some more. The right man is out there and God will bring him to you when the time is right.”

Magnolia brought her bare feet up onto the cushion beside her, tucking them to her side. “That sounds sweet. But, Gigi, at
this stage in my life, I’m just not having much faith in all that. I’m forty. I thought I’d have three kids by now. And only
one husband.”

“Baby girl, you’ve been busy with your education and all that you do at that bank. You didn’t make vice president overnight.
You’ve had relationships before, and you’ll have more. The babies will come in time if it’s the good Lord’s will.” She reached
over to the timeworn TV tray and picked up a piece of peppermint candy, undoing the wrapper and popping it into her mouth.

Magnolia leaned her head back along the cushion. “Not from this body.”

Gigi smiled at her granddaughter big, exposing her tongue working her mint. She spoke and sucked the candy at the same time.
“You’re funny. Young as you are, you’re acting like you’re ready for a cane or something. Forty is nothing.” She shook her
head as though amused. “I’m the one who can speak on old, not you.” Gigi looked serious but winked at her granddaughter. She
reached back behind her head and fiddled with the worn and nearly torn rubber band that held her shoulder length hair into
a ponytail. “It’s funny. You know your mother called the other day, which rarely happens. She called from who knows where.
And she asked me that very question, about whether or not I thought you’d make her a grandmother. I told her it’s all up to
God.” Gigi placed her hands back on her lap.

Magnolia looked unenthused. “Please. With all due respect to you, my mom’s got some questions to ask God about herself, not
about me. Besides, what would make her think she’d even deserve to be a grandmother? What does she know about babies? God
blessed her with a daughter she couldn’t even show up for. Considering how much you and Grandpa taught me, I’m wondering how
she missed out on the basic skills like, first you get your own husband, not someone else’s, then you have children, in that
order.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry. I just want a normal life, not a life of havoc. Not a life filled with mistakes like
she made.”

Gigi bit into her mint with her back teeth, cracking it into pieces and crunching, but talking with her mouth open like her
words just couldn’t wait. “Now I just know you’re not using the word
mistake
when it comes to you, right? I’m not even going to sit here and let you talk like that.”

Magnolia looked down, rubbed her feet, and was expressionless. “No ma’am. I didn’t mean me in particular.”

“Baby girl, I’ve always known how you’ve felt about your mom. She’s had some serious problems, and yes, she still does. But
that’s why we took you in. Whatever it is she didn’t get, you did. Whatever it was you needed, we got for you. She may have
never known how it was supposed to be, but you do, and that’s what matters.”

Magnolia looked over at her grandmother. Her face agreed with what she heard. “You’re right.”

Gigi lowered the footrest of her recliner and came to a slow stance, wearing a light blue housedress with deep pockets. “That’s
what I like to hear. Come on, baby girl, let’s eat this birthday dinner I made for you. Your favorite fried turkey wings with
cabbage with brown sugar yams. And cheese biscuits, of course.”

Magnolia rubbed her hands together. “That’s what I’m talking about.” She stood and walked barefoot over to her grandmother,
and they walked slowly toward the long, narrow kitchen, holding hands.

Gigi told Magnolia, “Just because we didn’t have enough precious times with your mother, doesn’t mean we can’t cherish the
times we have with each other.”

“Times with you are enough,” Magnolia said, while Gigi stood at the stove, removing the lid from a large cast-iron pot, grabbing
a large spoon. A cell phone sounded near the sofa. Magnolia stepped to it. “I’m sorry, just one second, ma’am.”

“No, it’s okay. You go ahead and get your phone. You never know who’s trying to reach you.”

Gigi kept mumbling and Magnolia quickly reached inside her bag, checking the caller ID with a puzzled look and connecting
the call. “Hello.”

“Hey, Mag.”

She sighed a large sigh. “Hey.”

“How are you?” Neal asked with energy, as though extra glad to get Magnolia live for once.

“I’m good.” Magnolia was bland.

“You busy?”

“I’m at Gigi’s house.”

“Oh? How is she?”

Magnolia watched her grandmother add her magic spices to the pot. She skipped right over his question. “Why’d you block your
number?” she asked, trying to contain her voice.

“Honestly, I knew you wouldn’t answer unless I did.”

She gave a sarcastic nod. “You were right about that. We’re about to eat.”

“Okay. I understand. Real quick. I just wanna know if you got my Happy New Year text at midnight, and the one this morning
wishing you a Happy Birthday.”

“Uh-huh.” She rubbed her forehead.

“But you didn’t call back. Why?”

Magnolia turned her back from the kitchen. “Because. It’s my birthday. And even if it wasn’t, I still wouldn’t.” She walked
out of the family room and down the long hall leading to the bedrooms. The volume of her voice then kicked up a notch. “Why
are you still calling me anyway? Besides, isn’t your girl gonna see this call on your bill?”

He sounded puzzled. “Why would she see my phone bill? It’s not like that.”

“Whatever.” Magnolia stood with her back against the hallway wall.

“Mag, I don’t live with her.”

“Live with her or not, what you need to do is stop contacting me. Try being faithful to someone for once in your life. And
next time you call, I promise you, I won’t answer.”

“Mag, why are you still mad after all this time?”

She stepped toward the back bedroom. “Do not call me that. Stop acting like it means something just because you think I’m
still mad. What happened between us wasn’t that long ago. You just need to stop doing this.” She paced back in the other direction.
“It’s bad enough I have to see you during the week. Now please. Leave me alone. You need to live with the choice you made.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe seeing you at work is making it harder for me? Maybe just a little bit harder for me to
move on? I do care about you, Mag.”

Magnolia shook off his words. “Well you shouldn’t. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Is it safe to assume you’re not seeing anyone? I mean, do you have a date tonight for your birthday?”

At that moment, Gigi yelled from the kitchen, “Baby girl, we can eat whenever you’re ready.”

Magnolia said loud back, smiling while lowering the phone to her side. “Okay, thanks. I’ll be right there.” She frowned just
that fast and spoke to Neal. “Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

“No worries. Can we go to lunch next week? I really want us to get an understanding, and ahh, I guess, close the book once
and for all. We just never discussed it face to face. With you being so mad, I sent the email, I was all messed up. All of
what went down was so fucked up on my part. I just want to talk to you in person. Please.”

She gave an
oh please
look and spoke fast. “I’ve gotta go. I’m hanging up.”

“Mag.” He rushed his word.

“Bye, Neal.” In a hurry she disconnected the call and walked back into the family room. She turned off her phone, placing
it in her purse, and then went into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair.

As soon as Magnolia sat, Gigi approached with two steam-seeping plates and set them down. Her eyes were curious. “Neal?”

Magnolia looked surprised that her grandmother’s hearing was that good. She nodded and scooted her chair in. “Grandma, I apologize
for that. That man keeps trying to stay in touch. It’s just his ego, that’s all.”

Gigi took a seat across from Magnolia, pressed her eyeglasses closer to her face, and grabbed the hot sauce, shaking it heavily
over her helping of cabbage. “He’s trying to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re still available, just in case it doesn’t
work out with that woman. He is still with her, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to talk to him? Or does the fact that he’s calling do something for your ego, too?”

“Oh, not even. Not in the least.”

“Okay. Then change your telephone number, baby girl,” Gigi said, as if it should be easy.

“Why should I? Besides, I see him at work every day anyway.”

“Well then, get yourself a new job.”

“Gigi, I’m not about to get out there and look for a new job in today’s market. I like my job. I was there first. Plus, I’ve
got a retirement plan and benefits. Let him get a new job.” She unfolded her paper napkin and placed it on her lap.

“Okay, then I guess you run the risk of hearing from and seeing him. Not much you can do, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders
and then stood, walked to the cupboard, and took out two drinking glasses.

“I’ll get the drinks,” Magnolia offered.