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Authors: Mary Monroe

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“I hope you like what’s on the menu. In addition to deep-fried chicken wings, deviled eggs, several Mexican items, Yankee pot roast, smashed potatoes, quiche, crawfish, and every veggie in the book, I made some roasted duck.”

“I’m standing in front of the best thing on the menu. Roasted
dick,
” I whispered. I slid my tongue across my bottom lip.

I was so glad that I had come to this wedding now. I just wished that I could spend my whole time behind the scenes, like in the kitchen with Louis, instead of in the living room, with the rest of the guests. I enjoyed watching him do his thing. He had prepared a mean feast, and he deserved all the glory.

I gave his cheek a hungry little kiss and his crotch a naughty little pat. He moaned and then froze in his tracks like a pillar of salt.

I had witnessed this behavior before. This was how he looked when he was in ecstasy. Every time we made love, he moaned and froze just before he climaxed.

“That’s payback for what you did to me with your fingers in Antonosanti’s restaurant that day we went there for lunch,” I quipped. I leaned close to his ear. “I just hope you don’t leak out as much love juice as I did that day.”

Louis had stopped moaning, but he still seemed frozen in place.

It was the sudden frown on his face that startled me. He nodded toward the door. I was afraid to turn around to see who it was, but I did.

“Y’all need to get a room,” Scary Mary laughed as she entered the dining room, waving her ubiquitous cane in the air. When she got to Louis, she stopped in front of him, grinning like a fool.

“Louis, you look sweet enough to eat. If it wasn’t for my arthritis, and if I was five years younger and wasn’t still recovering from a severe case of grippe, I’d drop to my knees and blow that young tal-lywhacker between your legs to kingdom come. And don’t think I couldn’t do it! I done had seventy years of practice!” The old madam GOD AIN’ T BLIND

225

laughed some more. “And ain’t I cute?” she asked, posing. She wore a multicolored, flowing robe with ruffles on the sleeves, and a matching turban. She looked like a cross between a piñata and the Dalai Lama.

“You do look cute today,” I hesitantly agreed.

“I know I look good, girl. I always look good,” she told me, looking me up and down. “You do, too. But the next time I hope you leave them earbobs at home. They look like clovers.”

“They are clovers,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Well, at least they match that green dress you got on.” Scary Mary glanced around the room. “I came in here to let my mouth inspect a mess of them chicken wings. Them damn things is screamin’

so loud, I can hear them all the way in the livin’ room. Can smell them damn things all the way out in the livin’ room, too. That means they
gots
to be good to eat!”

Without waiting for permission, she lifted the lid off one of the large pans and helped herself to two deep-fried chicken wings, clutching them between two fingers. She chewed and spoke at the same time, her eyes back on Louis. “Young man, you might want to wipe that lipstick off your jaw. This is gettin’ to be a habit with y’all, ain’t it?” She paused and swallowed hard. Then she looked at me.

“Annette, you might want to drag your tail into the bathroom yonder and spread on some more lipstick. You look like you been mauled.”

I excused myself and entered the bathroom near the empty kitchen, on the other side of the dining room. I took my time repair-ing my makeup. As I was walking through the kitchen on my way to the living room, the kitchen telephone rang. I ignored it at first, but when it didn’t seem like anybody else was going to answer the call, I did.

“This is the O’Toole residence,” I said, actually sounding cheerful. A few moments of silence followed. “Hello?”

“Who is this please?” The caller spoke with a Spanish accent. His voice was low and hollow. And, he sounded frightened.

“This is . . . Annette. Marcelo, is that you? Is everything all right?

Did you get your hair cut?” My first thought was that the poor man had gotten lost on his way to or from the barbershop, and this was a call for help.

226

Mary Monroe

“Everything is not all right,” he muttered.

“Marcelo, where are you? Hold on so I can call Rhoda or Otis to the phone.”

“No!” he hollered quickly. “I don’t want to speak with either one of them.
Ay caramba!

“Marcelo, are you all right? You sound like you’re in pain! Are you in trouble? Have you been injured?”

“Oh God. Something like that,” the poor man moaned.

This was a call that I was sorry I had answered.

“Then hold on while I go find Jade—”

“No! I
really
don’t want to speak with
her
!
Ay caramba!

My heart started to beat like a bongo drum. I knew that whatever Marcelo had to say, it wasn’t going to be pretty. I didn’t know much Spanish, but something told me that
Ay caramba
was an expression of despair. Something also told me that the shit was about to hit the fan in a big way.

“Tell her for me, I will always love her. But I cannot marry her,”

Marcelo said, his voice trembling. “I must go now.”

I had heard about brides, and a few grooms, getting jilted on their wedding day. And when I was younger and had zero confidence, I had thought that something like that would happen to me. Never in my wildest imagination had I thought it would happen to Jade. But that was exactly what was happening! If this was just the beginning of her downfall, she had a dark row to hoe ahead of her.

“You’re what?” I shrieked. “Did I just hear you right?” More silence followed. “Marcelo, please tell me this is a joke. And if it is, it’s not funny at all.”

“You heard me right. I have to leave this country today!”

I didn’t want to believe my ears, but I had to. I still felt some degree of compassion for Jade. She was about to get part of what she had coming. There was no doubt about that. But
this
was something that I would not have wished on my worst enemy.

“Boy, why did you wait until today to do this?” I asked. “Do you realize what you’re doing and how many people you are going to hurt?”

“I realize I can’t marry Jade! I never wanted to marry Jade! I’ve been trying to tell her that ever since she told me we was getting GOD AIN’ T BLIND

227

married! I never asked her to get married!” He paused and lowered his voice by a few decibels. “She just come to me one morning, hand me a coffee, and say, ‘By the way, we’re getting married soon.’”

“That was it?”

“That was it! At first I thought she was making a joke to me, so I said, ‘Sure, no problem.’ But she was for real! What do I know about being a husband? I don’t know nothing, that’s what. I only been shaving my face for one year, and I’ve only had two girlfriends so far. I’m not ready to give up my life to get married!”

“Marcelo, are you telling me that you shared all of this with Jade, and she still went through with her wedding plans?”


Sí, señora!
Even last night I tell her I am not happy about this.”

“Well, what did she say?”

“Nothing! She cover my mouth with her hand and tell me to shaddup and do as she tell me because she is the boss! I must go now!”

C H A P T E R 4 5

“Marcelo, don’t hang up yet! Just tell me where you are. Let me come get you and bring you back here,” I pleaded. “Don’t do this. Don’t cause this much pain! You’ll regret it for the rest of your life!”

“Tell Señor Otis I will leave his car in the airport parking lot. Tell Señora Rhoda that I will pay her back the money, because I took some money from her purse this morning to use to pay for my way back to my home in Mexico, where I belong.”

“Oh my God! Look, you’re in enough trouble already for steal-ing Rhoda’s money. We can fix that. But don’t run away, Marcelo.

Get back in that car, and get back here as soon as you can. It’s not too late. If you leave now, you’ll make it back in time for your wedding,” I pleaded. “And I won’t tell anybody about this phone conversation.”

“No! I’ve been thinking and thinking about this for a long time.

I never wanted to hurt Jade, and I thought I’d go through this marriage just for her. But it was just to make her stop crying all the time about how jealous you were of her and how bad
you hurt her
last year. She said you was such a mean lady to her because of a little joke she played on you that she tried to kill herself!”

When Marcelo paused, I could have jumped right in and defended myself. But I didn’t even bother. I knew that Jade had done GOD AIN’ T BLIND

229

a pretty thorough job of demonizing me behind my back. And I knew that it was beyond repair. That was why I didn’t even comment on what Marcelo had just shared with me. He was the one in pain now.

He sniffed a few times, and then he continued. “I told myself to marry her, anyway, and maybe things would work out. If nothing else, marrying her would have meant I could get American citizenship. I told myself that up until last night. But this morning . . .

I don’t know, señora. It all hit me like a bat! I don’t want citizenship in heaven bad enough to go through with this! I—I—I can’t do this! Jade is not the girl for me. I don’t know what she needs, but whatever it is, I don’t got it. She needs a king or a president or some man up high. Me, I’m just a little bullfighter—and not even that completely yet. I’m still in training! I have no money, no nothing!”

I was so taken aback, my head was spinning. I had a dozen more questions running through my head. “Marcelo, had you gone through with this marriage, how in the world were you and Jade going to support yourselves?”

“She told me not to worry, that as long as her mama and papa had money, they would take care of us! She told me she was going to make them buy us a house on Roseville Avenue, and it had to be on the same block as the mayor of this city so that we could rub it in his racist face, she said!”

I got sad and angry at the same time. Just the thought of Jade expecting her parents to continue supporting her and Marcelo, and to buy them a house in Mayor Stargen’s neighborhood, was enough to make me sick. There was no end to this girl’s nerve! “You’re already at the airport, aren’t you, Marcelo?” I asked. He didn’t even have to answer that question. I had figured that out on my own when I heard a flight called over a loudspeaker in the background on his end.

“I have to go now!”

“Don’t hang up that telephone, boy!” I yelled. But it was too late. Marcelo mumbled something in Spanish; then he hung up. I stood there staring at the telephone in slack-jawed amazement.

“Oh my God,” I mouthed. “Oh . . . my . . . God.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, Jade was standing in the doorway, with her hands on her hips. She had 230

Mary Monroe

the nerve to have on a white wedding dress, with a train that must have been six feet long, the way she was holding it in her arms. She had on a gold tiara.

She looked me up and down as if I were less than nothing. From the horrified look on her face, I could tell that she was not impressed with the snug-fitting green dress I had on. I was so glad that I had not spent any money on something new and had not even bought her a wedding gift.

“Jade, I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something,” I began.

“Shet up!” she hissed, wagging a finger like a dog’s tail in my direction. “You listen to me, and you’d better listen good! You are lucky that I gave in and let you come to my wedding—especially after all you did to me! And if Mama hadn’t threatened to cancel my Paris honeymoon, you wouldn’t be here!”

“I can be out of here in five minutes,” I managed to say in a level voice. I carried a purse with a long strap. It dangled off my shoulder like a snake with a big head. The telephone was still in my hand. I was itching to tell her who had called, but I decided to let her run her course.

“That’s fine with me. But if you do stay, I would appreciate it if you would stop sneaking around in this house, tying up our telephone line! And when our phone bill arrives, I’d better not see that you just made an out-of-state call, or you’re going to be sorry!

My mama and daddy have enough bills to pay without you adding more.” She let out a prolonged snort, and then she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. Something made her sneeze. She seemed embarrassed by it, even though the only witness was me.

She quickly composed herself and resumed her attack. “You are not at home! Marcelo might be trying to get through, and here you are, with your tacky-looking self, tying up our phone line!” she wailed.

“If you just
had
to come here today, the least you can do is get in that dining room and make sure that damn fag caterer is doing his job right.”

Like the prized palomino pony that she thought she was, Jade pranced across the floor, toward me. Her eyes looked like they were on fire. She snatched the telephone out of my hand so fast GOD AIN’ T BLIND

231

and hard, she almost knocked me down. Her behavior made it easy for me to report what I’d just learned.

“That was Marcelo. He’s on his way home,” I said, struggling with my words.

“He’d better be! And he’d better not be late for my wedding, if he knows what’s good for him. I’ve told that dumb-ass spic a thousand times not to mess with me. By the time I get through with him, he may be making arrangements for his own autopsy before this day is over. Where was he calling from?”

I cleared my throat. “He didn’t say, but I’m pretty sure that he was calling from the airport. I heard flight information being announced over a loudspeaker. And, if I’m not mistaken, I heard air-plane engines, too.”

“Airport? What airport?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure if it was Akron-Canton or Cleveland.”

Jade gave me a puzzled look. “What? What do you mean? What the fuck is he doing at
any
goddamn airport? Who is he . . . Is he picking somebody up? He didn’t tell me. . . .”

I shook my head so hard, it felt like everything in it rattled against my skull. Now I was truly sorry that I was the one who had taken Marcelo’s call.

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