Girls Like Us (17 page)

Read Girls Like Us Online

Authors: Gail Giles

BOOK: Girls Like Us
10.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

When I got done with work, I dawdled putting my apron in the laundry. I took a long time picking out a just-right loaf of bread. I didn’t want to walk out into that parking lot. Finally, I took me a deep breath and head out.

And there was Biddy. I never thought I’d ever feel happy to see that fool girl.

“Where’s your coat?” I axt her.

“Hi, Biddy. It’s good to see you,” she say to me.

I stop and look at her hard so she wouldn’t know that I was bumfoozled. Why that girl saying hello to herself ? Then I got it. She was funning with me again, but she was trying to teach me a lesson too. Like Lizabeth done her about table manners.

“Hi, Biddy. Good to see you,” I say. “Now, where’s your coat?”

“Not cold enough for a coat,” Biddy say.

“Never was.”

That cold, hard feeling I always had inside me felt like it be slipping a bit sideways. Biddy is plumb scared to come out in the world, and she was coming here to protect me from Robert.

Tears run down my face. I had me too many jumble-up feelings.

I done laundry while Quincy cooked up something. I helped set the table and called Miss Lizzy.

“This is good, Quincy. What you call it?” I asked.

“This be Chicken Parmesan à la Quincy.”

I felt my face go stupid. I figured Quincy would make fun of me. But she smiled.

“That means it’s chicken that has a kind of red sauce and cheese on it. The ‘à la Quincy’ is saying made by Quincy.”

I smiled. “I believe you the best cook in the world.”

“I’ll teach you how to make it,” Quincy said.

Miss Lizzy look up and Quincy remind her she teaching me to cook.

“That’s lovely,” Miss Lizzy said. “And what will Biddy teach you in return, Quincy?”

I wasn’t smart enough to teach. I felt bad.

Quincy looked straight in my face. “Biddy already teaching me lots. Mostly how to be nice to folks that never hurt me.”

My chest ’bout bust open.

We talked and finished our dinner. Miss Lizzy stayed at her chair while I took the dishes. She put her hand on Quincy’s so she couldn’t get up. Quincy jumped when Miss Lizzy touched her. Pulled her hand back. When Miss Lizzy look hurt, Quincy got all upset in her face. “I don’t want you to get no germs,” she said.

“That’s considerate of you, Quincy.” She clear her throat like she got a hair ball in it. “I have something important to talk to the two of you about,” Miss Lizzy said. “I have a special visitor coming here tomorrow evening. Quincy, would you go into the living room? There are two boxes on the sofa and I’d like you to bring them in here.”

Quincy toted those two boxes I seen the deliveryman bring.

“These are for you, girls. The top one is for Biddy and the other is yours, Quincy.” Miss Lizzy waved her hand. “Open them, please.”

Quincy and me took our boxes. Opened the lids. There was softy pink paper and — a dress. Quincy had a dress too.

Something felt wrong. My teachers give me a dress for graduation. This felt — different. I know without looking at Quincy there was thunder and lightning about to bust out. Maybe I helped Quincy learn about how to be nice to peoples that hadn’t hurt us — but Miss Lizzy just hurt us plenty. Only I didn’t know the how or the why of it.

Biddy and I helt up those dresses and then look ’crosst at one ’nother. Lizabeth watch us like she ’spect us to fall on the floor and kiss her bony feet.

I drop the dress back in the box and dust off my hands like they was dirty. Biddy lay hers back in the box and put the lid on real careful.

Lizabeth look from Biddy to me and back again. “Don’t you like them?”

Nobody said nothing.

“Wouldn’t you try them on? I’d like to see how you look.”

We still didn’t say nothing. All that nothing was makin’ a big noise. And all the good dinner smell turn sour.

“I don’t understand,” Lizabeth say.

Biddy look at Lizabeth and nod her head.

I been trying to hold back my bad mouth, but when I saw that beat-up look on Biddy’s face, I couldn’t help myself.

“Lizabeth, I don’t got the right words, but this is like telling us we’re stupid.”

Biddy had her face all twisted up like she was puzzling something out, but when I said that, she seem like she understood what was wrong now.

But Lizabeth didn’t.

“What? I gave you a present.”

Biddy’s voice sound like she was talking through a stack of pillows. “No, Miss Lizzy. This ain’t no present.”

Lizabeth got mad. “I know your teacher gave you a dress for graduation. You weren’t so particular then.”

Biddy looked like she been hit in her stomach.

My mad boil right over.

“Don’t you talk to Biddy like that. You want to be mean about Biddy not havin’ a graduation dress — you go be mean to her granny. And Biddy’s teacher let her pick out her graduation dress. She didn’t say, ‘Here, dress up like I think you should.’ ”

Biddy wiped tears off her face. She used her fists and knuckles like a little child. That hurt me inside my heart some kind of way.

Lizabeth folded the paper back over one of the dresses. She looked a little shamed but she still had some mad in her.

“I don’t see that —”

“Biddy and me earn money now. We bought our own clothes. But you think we’re too stupid to dress proper for your friend. You didn’t give us these dresses for us. You bought them for you. To make sure when you trot us out we don’t embarrass you. Like we was your pet dogs.”

“Quincy! I’ve told you before that you must keep a civil tongue —”

“Lizabeth, Biddy and me ain’t your pets. We ain’t your good deed. You done been mean to Biddy and me and I’m telling you about it. Now you been told.”

Lizabeth turnt to Biddy. “Biddy, surely you don’t . . .”

“Quincy’s right. This ain’t a present.”

“Fine, if you feel that way, I’ll send the dresses back.” Lizabeth pull herself up and into her walker. “Please be in your ‘good dresses’ tomorrow evening to meet my guest.”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Lizabeth?” I say.

“What now? If you don’t want the dresses, fine. I told you that.”

“You don’t get to tell us. If we don’t want the dresses, we don’t need you to tell us it’s OK. And we get paid to cook and clean. You cain’t tell your retarded girls to parade out and show what a good woman you are.”

Lizabeth gasped and Biddy dropped the glass she was holding.

That pretty glass broke all into pieces.

I looked from the glass pieces on the floor. I saw tears in Miss Lizzy’s eyes. It give me a start to know I was crying too. Then I looked over at Quincy. Tears was running down her face.

“I thought you two liked me,” Miss Lizzy said real quiet.

“We thought you liked us,” I said.

Miss Lizzy pushed out the kitchen. Quincy run past me out the back door. I picked up the sharp glass.

The next morning, Quincy fixed breakfast like always. Everybody sat on the edge of they chairs with straight backs. But we wasn’t sitting like princesses.

Miss Lizzy ate her fruit. She sipped her tea. Then, without looking at me, she asked would I please meet her friend tonight.

“Yes, ma’am. You made all the plans.”

“Quincy, would you mind serving the tea and dessert? It’s important that Biddy talk to my visitor, and I can’t handle the cups and plates.”

Quincy nodded her head about half a nod.

“I’ll pay you extra, of course, for your time.”

I ’spected Quincy to blow up like a big bomb, but instead she got that hurt-to-the-bone look.

“Lordy, and folks think me and Biddy the ones that be ‘challenged.’ ” She put her fork down on the edge of her plate. She stood up. “I’ll be here. Keep your money.”

She laid her napkin folded up nice on the table and left.

Miss Lizzy sighed. “Why can’t I say anything right to that girl? I’m tired of fighting with her, worrying about every word I say.”

I waited, thinking out my words. Letting Miss Lizzy settle a little.

“Miss Lizzy,” I said. “If Quincy and me wasn’t here and you invited some friends over for tea . . .” I had to stop. Get everything straight inside my head. “And you couldn’t handle the teacups. Would you ask one of your friends to serve the cake?”

“Well, yes, but I . . .”

I must have caught something from Quincy, because I cut short a full-grown-up woman. “Would you pay her for doing it?”

Miss Lizzy sighed again. “But, Biddy, I already pay you and Quincy to take care of me. And this is something extra I want Quincy to do.”

“Yes, ma’am, but we live here. You asked us to sit at your table. It’s different than Quincy working extra hours at the Brown Cow.”

“I don’t see that . . .”

I done it again. I was for sure catching a bad case of Quincy-mouth. “When I come to you. Asked you to draw me a map to the feed store. Did I pay you?”

Miss Lizzy was getting some smarter. She didn’t talk.

“I asked you a favor, like a friend.”

Miss Lizzy looked off out the window.

“I’m sorry if I’m not explaining it right. I can’t get things lined up in my head.”

Miss Lizzy turned back to me. “I think you explained it the best way anyone could.”

I took those words straight upstairs with me. Talked them right on a tape, ’cause I don’t never want to forget them.

I put in my hours at the Brown Cow. I kept myself to myself most of yesterday and Jen and Ellen purty much give up trying to get me to be friendly, so I fret and chop and clean without no one bothering me. At home I fix dinner and for sure felt like having me a nap. I’m tired to the bone from seein’ Robert ’round every corner when he ain’t really there, I’m weary of jumpin’ at every noise and thinkin’ badness is right there coming to get me, and I’m just sad when I look down at my stomach.

But Lizabeth’s important friend was coming. Lizabeth had a cheesecake from the bakery, so I guess she thought I’d poison her dead if I made the dessert. I was too tired to get stirred up about it.

Me and Biddy took showers and got on our good dresses and tromped to Lizabeth’s. I commenced to slice up the cheesecake and make a tray. I got out white napkins, made tea, and went into the dining room to fetch the silver tea set. I heard voices in the living room and look in.

I almost drop the tea tray. I knew the woman setting on the couch.

Other books

Bus Station Mystery by Gertrude Warner
El contador de arena by Gillian Bradshaw
Beneath the Wheel by Hermann Hesse
Hunting of the Last Dragon by Sherryl Jordan
Claimed by Her Demon by Lili Detlev
Awakening the Alpha by Harmony Raines
Mulliner Nights by P.G. Wodehouse