Changing Faces (6 page)

Chapter 7

C
HARISSE

C
HARISSE TURNED
to the last page of Matthew, read a couple of lines, but then slammed her Bible shut. For two hours she’d been trying to calm herself and figured maybe reading a few scriptures just might help. She’d even spoken a couple of prayers, asking God to deliver her from all the anger she was feeling. She’d asked Him to remove the horrid thoughts she was having and the hatred that was consuming her. But this was all Marvin’s fault. First it was this brand-spanking-new personality of his, and now he’d actually stayed out past 1 a.m. She hadn’t approved of his going out after work last night anyway, but staying out until the next morning was unforgivable. He’d never done anything like this before, not the entire time they’d been married, and it was more than she was willing to put up with. All she could hope was that he would never do this again and that she wouldn’t have to keep hearing that voice screaming inside her, begging her to punish him. Begging her to punish him for all his wrongdoing.

And then there was Whitney, who’d had the audacity to drag up antique news—something that God had already forgiven Charisse for a long time ago. How dare she bring up anything about anybody, looking like Miss Piggy. But Charisse was going to let it slide this time because she knew miserable people craved new company and Whitney was definitely a miserable soul. Had to be, given all the fat she was hauling around, and Charisse felt sorry for her.

Charisse closed her eyes and recited another prayer until she heard someone walking up the stairway. She knew it had to be Brianna because Marvin and Brandon were still at Brandon’s football game and wouldn’t be home for at least an hour.

“Brianna, is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“Girl, what have I told you about saying ‘yeah’ whenever I ask you something? When you answer me, you answer with ‘yes’ and nothing else.”

Brianna didn’t bother responding and Charisse heard her walk into her bedroom and close the door behind her.

Charisse jumped up from the chaise, stormed out of her room and into her daughter’s.

“Brianna, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Yes,” she finally said.

“And you’d better wipe that silly frown from your face, too, before I do it for you.”

When Charisse stared at Brianna, she became livid when she noticed too many of Marvin’s facial features. It was another reason she couldn’t stand her. Daddy’s little girl. Daddy’s little sweetheart. Daddy’s precious little gift. It was enough to make Charisse ill. She wanted to like Brianna, but she just couldn’t. Not when she hadn’t wanted to have her in the first place. Even today, she still wondered why she’d been so careless, having sex with Marvin barely eight weeks after Brandon was born and not taking any birth control pills. It had been so stupid of her. And it wasn’t like she’d had any options because she certainly hadn’t believed in abortions. The idea of it all was so ungodly and she hadn’t seen herself committing such a despicable sin.

Thus Brianna had been born and Charisse had never gotten used to it. And how could she when Brianna had been the reason she’d had to waddle around knocked up, back-to-back with only two months in between? Instead of the normal nine months, her second pregnancy had felt more like twenty. Not to mention having to care for a newborn baby and then carrying another one inside her stomach simultaneously.

And it wasn’t like Marvin had been any real help to her either. He’d made a ton of dim-witted mistakes and he hadn’t done one thing a real man would have done in his situation. It was almost as if Charisse had become a single parent, and it was the reason she’d decided to wear the pants in their household from then on. She decided that she would run the entire show and that Marvin could, for the most part, take it or leave it. Of course, he had tried to rebel a few times in the very beginning, announcing that he was a grown man and that he wasn’t about to have his own wife bossing him. But Charisse had told him in no uncertain terms that he could either go along with the program or pack his rags and get out, and it wasn’t long before Marvin had given up the battle. Charisse had won and become his ultimate ruler.

Then, five years ago, she’d even stopped him from purchasing the black Cadillac that he’d always wanted, partly because she preferred silver and would only agree to that particular color, but mostly because she had become a pure, unadulterated control freak. And she never allowed Marvin to go anywhere after work unless he was running specific errands, those that she had instructed him to take care of. She did this because, according to her mother, it was the only way to guarantee a permanent and happy marriage. It was the only way to make sure that her husband never had an opportunity to sneak off and be with other women.

After returning to her bedroom, Charisse pulled an armful of underwear from her dirty clothes basket, took them down to the laundry room, and tossed them into the washer. She poured liquid detergent into the dispenser, set the cycle to delicate, and closed the lid. When she opened the dryer and saw Marvin’s workout clothing, she got angry all over again. Just the thought of him going to some fitness center, working out with a roomful of women, made her want to lose it. It was the reason she’d gotten an attitude every time he’d gone there last year and then accused him of committing adultery when he arrived back home. Eventually, she’d caused so much trouble between the two of them that Marvin had finally stopped going altogether and then simply canceled his annual membership.

Charisse had learned early on that the best way to handle Marvin was to cause a major production. So, she did it every time Marvin tried to involve himself in anything that didn’t include her or the children. But yesterday, for the first time ever, her usual dramatics hadn’t worked. Marvin had done what he wanted to do and hadn’t cared what she’d had to say about it.

Charisse walked into the kitchen and heard the phone ringing. She hoped it was Taylor because she really needed someone to talk to. She would never let on about what was happening with her and Marvin, but if she could just hear Taylor’s voice it would help her. If she could talk about Taylor’s problems, it would take her mind off of her own.

But it wasn’t Taylor at all, it was her mother.

“Mama? How are you?” she said.

“Why haven’t I heard from you in the last couple of days? A daughter should check on her mother every single day no matter what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry, Mama, I was going to call you tonight.”

“So, how are my two grandchildren?”

“They’re fine. Brianna is upstairs and Brandon had a football game.”

“And what about you, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay, I guess.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

“Marvin went out last night with his coworkers and he didn’t come home until after one this morning.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know. I still can’t believe he did this.”

“But what did you do about it?”

“We argued before he left for work yesterday morning and then again when he got home from the club, but Mama, he’s changed. He told me that he’ll do whatever he wants to do and that if I try to stand in his way, he’ll file for a divorce.”

“And you should’ve pulled out a butcher knife and stuck it right against his throat, too. Didn’t I teach you anything, girl?”

“I wanted to, really, I did, but I was afraid that if I picked it up, I really would have used it. Plus, I just believe that if I keep praying, God will take care of this. He’ll bring Marvin to his senses and everything will go back to the way it used to be.”

“Are you that naïve or just plain stupid, Charisse?”

“No, Mama, I’m not.”

“You and that church mess of yours. And where has it ever gotten you anyway? No, what you need to do is handle Marvin the way I taught you to handle him. About thirty years ago, your crazy father got bold enough to stay out one night, but I waited up and then met him at the back door. And after all these years, that fool still gets nervous when he sees even the smallest pot of boiling water. I scorched the skin off that Negro, and I promise you, he won’t ever forget it…ain’t that right, Roy?” Charisse heard her mother asking him.

Tears streamed down Charisse’s face as she remembered the night her father had cried out in excruciating pain. She’d only been seven years old, but she still remembered his violent screams and the way he’d begged her mother to call an ambulance for him. “Mattie Lee, please. I didn’t mean it. Please call them people so they can take me to the hospital. Lawd, Mattie Lee, please.”

Charisse remembered how her mother had scolded him for at least thirty minutes before she’d finally decided to have mercy on him. But when she did, her mother had told him that he’d better tell the police what really happened: that he’d been boiling some water, preparing to make some mashed potatoes, and had accidentally spilled the water all over himself. She’d told him that if he mentioned her name even slightly, that he would have hell to pay a thousand times over. Charisse remembered how her father had done exactly what he’d been told and how she herself had feared her mother from that day forward. Charisse had worked hard at being a good girl so her mother wouldn’t have to beat her, but sometimes Charisse hadn’t been good enough. There were times when her mother had whipped her so brutally with an extension cord that Charisse’s skin had welted all over. She could still feel the pain as if it had just happened hours before. Then there were the few times her mother had punched her with her fist, twice in the eye, but she’d only done it during the summer months when school was out. That way her teachers and schoolmates couldn’t question anything.

“Charisse, this is what you’re going to do,” she continued. “When that bastard gets home, I want you to treat him real nice-like…hell, even have sex with him if you want to. But then when that joker falls asleep, you go downstairs and boil you some water and then you yell at the top of your lungs like somebody’s breakin’ in. And when he comes flyin’ down those stairs, you toss that scaldin’ hot water all over his ass. You hear me?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Because that’s the only way for you to get back the upper hand. I don’t know how you lost it in the first place, but now you have to do whatever it takes to get it back. If you don’t, you can kiss that marriage of yours good-bye.”

“I think he’s pulling into the driveway now.”

“Then I’ll let you go, but tomorrow I want to hear a progress report.”

“Okay, Mama. I love you.”

Mattie Lee dropped the phone on the hook without saying another word, the same as always, and Charisse wondered what she was going to do about Marvin. She was standing by the kitchen sink, trying to figure out her next move, when the door to the garage opened.

“Hey, Mom,” Brandon said. “We won 27–0.”

“Good for you,” Charisse said. She almost hugged him, but suddenly remembered that her mother had told her that hugging children too much showed a true sign of weakness and shouldn’t be done that often.

“I’m starving,” he said.

“There’s some spaghetti and fried chicken on the stove, but you probably need to microwave it.”

“Cool,” he said, and ran upstairs.

When he did, she turned her attention to Marvin.

“So, Brandon played well, huh?” she said.

“Yep. And he made one of the touchdowns, too.”

“Marvin, why are you doing this?” she said without warning.

“Look, Charisse, please don’t start with me. I went out, I came home, and that’s that.”

Charisse was hearing those voices again, telling her to do bad things to Marvin. But she also heard her mother telling her to treat him “real nice-like.”

“Okay, honey, I’m sorry,” she said. “Let’s not argue. As long as you weren’t out with another woman, then I guess I can accept you being out with your friends.”

“And that’s all it was. Me hanging out with some of my coworkers and having a good time. I know you don’t approve, but Charisse, you really are going to have to get used to this. And the other thing is that I can’t ever go back to being one of your children. I can’t ever go back to doing only what you allow me to do.”

Charisse nodded, pretending to agree with all he was saying. She bit her tongue and put on a happy face the way he expected. She smiled the way she knew her mother would want her to. She did this to set him up for the kill.

“Fine,” she answered, and then reached her arms out.

“I want us to be happy again,” he said, embracing her. “My first thought was that I should just leave, but I realized today that I really do care about you, Charisse. I don’t like some of the things you say or some of the things you do, but I do want us to stay together. And it might even help if we saw a marriage counselor. And eventually a counselor for the whole family, because I don’t like what’s going on with you and Brianna.”

“Counselor?” she said, pulling away from him. “For what? Are you saying that I’m crazy?”

“No. No. I’m not saying anything like that. But what I am saying is that we all have a problem with the way we interact as a family and maybe a third party can help us with that. You and I argue all the time. You and Brianna don’t get along and the kids don’t get along all that well either.”

Charisse turned her back to Marvin and walked out of the kitchen. It was better to just ignore him because if she didn’t she might end up blowing things out of proportion. She might end up boiling that hot water the way her mother had commanded her to. She could picture Marvin lying in the hospital with third-degree burns right now.

But what stopped her were those terrifying flashbacks from the past. She hadn’t experienced such haunting memories in a long while, but now those memories were badgering her and she had her mother to thank for it. If only her mother hadn’t reminded her about the time she’d scalded her father. If only she’d kept her mouth shut about that entire episode.

Charisse walked back into her bedroom, closed the door, and kneeled on the floor.