How to Knock a Bravebird from Her Perch : The First Novel in the Morrow Girls Series (9780985751616) (21 page)

Ricky held back the curtain, waiting for me to slip on my shoes. She looked stunned to say the least. Guess she was expecting Ricky to take her side of things or at least listen to her.

“Mr. Morrow, I have to ask you to hold off on going up to Pediatrics until we have a better sense of what happened.”

“N’all, I’m just gonna ask them what happened and they gonna tell me. I don’t need you nosing around in my business.”

“Mr. Morrow—”

“Look, I done already told you woman. Y’all can’t be treating everybody that come up in here with a kid like this! What? You come after me because I’m a black man? Huh?”

“No—”

“Trying to take black babies from they families and put them with clean white folks. Huh? Y’all folks make me sick. Come on, Pecan.”

And that was that. The security guard standing post outside of Nat’s room looked a few years past retirement. He wasn’t about to challenge Ricky. So Ricky scooped Nat up in his arms and led the rest of us to the elevators. Her little head rested against his big hard chest and I thought I was seeing things. It was the closest he ever got to showing her some type of affection.

"GOOD TO SEE YOU again, Mrs. Morrow.”

 
I nodded and tucked my dress underneath me as I took a seat. “I got the money. Well, I got a job...so I’ll have the money in a few weeks when I get paid.”

“My secretary explained the details.”
 

Mr. Silverman reminded me of all them rich folks I heard about. He ain’t really care about money like most folks. His bills would still be paid even if he ain’t get nothing from me but he wasn’t about to let somebody think he was unprofessional.
 

“So, why don’t we get started? Tell me why you want a divorce.”

“I want Ricky to disappear.”

He laughed and took a sip from a steaming paper cup. The sun shined bright through the window behind him, making him look like he had a halo around him. “Well, I will do my best. But what I mean is why.”

I knew what he meant. The walls of his office were decorated with paintings that ain’t look like more than splotches of color to me but he had them in big gold frames that screamed money. “How much that cost?”

“I’m sorry? Oh. I’m not sure. But the young lady who decorated my office assured me that they were from a very important artist. Do you like them?”

“Yeah...not that I know nothing about art.”

“Well, I can look into who the artist is. That way maybe you can get one for yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. So. Mrs. Morrow...how much do you know about your husband’s property?”

“You mean the house?”

“Is that all? Just the house? What about stocks...bonds...anything that he might want to sell?”

“Nothing. Ricky don’t talk about that sorta thing with me. I know he go to the bank around the corner from us to do his business. He say he like that they know his name. That every time he walk in somebody shouting hi to him. Make him feel like some kinda superstar or something. He don’t say it exactly like that but I can tell.”

It looked like Mr. Silverman was writing down everything I said. His hand scribbled real fast, pausing when I did, and finally he looked up at me. “I’ll need an idea of your cash flow. How much money is coming into the house and how much is going out.”

“Don’t know that neither.”

“Alright...I suppose I could subpoena the records after the initial filing. Do you think he’s going to put up a fight?”

I ain’t think it. I knew it. Ricky wasn’t about to let nothing go down that wasn’t his idea first. “How long until...um...until he know what we doing?”

“Well, I can get the papers drawn up in about a week. Give or take a few days for service...we’re talking ten days, I suppose. Divorce is a difficult process and this is just the first step. Many people need to take some time to gather their thoughts and decide what they want out of all of this. So, don’t feel like you need to rush through it. It can take a toll on you emotionally.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I just wanna be able to take care of me and my girls without him coming around.”

“Right. You mentioned that before. Sole custody.” He went back to scribbling. “Did I explain to you that it’s rare for a judge not to at least award visitation? Especially if the husband wants it? Mrs. Morrow?” He looked up just as a cloud passed over the sun, blocking his halo.

“He got some woman a few blocks over.”

“He’s having an affair?”

“Mmhmm.”

“How do you know this?”

“My girlfriend told me and I believe her. She wouldn’t lie. Said she heard it around the way. And it ain’t like Ricky too good for that. He think he better than he is. And...”

“Yes? And what?”

“And I ain’t really been...doing like I used to...with him. He think it’s because I’m pregnant but that ain’t really got nothing to do with it. I just...can’t.”

“Wait, wait. Um...you’re pregnant?” He sighed all heavy like soon as I nodded. “That makes things—well, it just...” His sigh came back on and pushed him to the back of his chair. His pen tapped uselessly across the pad of paper as he looked at me. “Why exactly do you want a divorce?”

“Because.”

“Mrs. Morrow, I don’t mean to seem insensitive here but most people, judges included, will find it difficult to believe that a young woman such as yourself with four kids and another on the way...has really thought this through. He’s more likely to conclude that your husband needs to be involved. To help you raise these children.”

“No. I don’t need Ricky. He don’t help none now.”

He groaned and squeezed the arm of his chair with one hand, holding on to the pen with the other. “I’m trying to help you here, Mrs. Morrow. If there’s something else that I don’t know...is this about his affair?”

“Not really.”

His glasses sat on his desk so he could rub the bridge of his nose. Guess I was a bit more trouble than he’d bargained for.
 

“Okay...”

“Ricky, he, um...he ain’t no good. He don’t—I mean he pay the bills and stuff and I’m real grateful for that, I am. But he still...he still ain’t no good. He don’t love me. Don’t love my girls. He might love Mya but even that I ain’t too sure about. He don’t...he just ain’t right.”

“Okay well what would he say? What would your husband say about you?”

“What you mean?”

“Would he say that you were a good mother? Would he say that you were a lazy drunk? What?”

“He’d say...um...guess he’d say I was an okay mama. Sometimes the girls get into things and they get sick or hurt or something and he blame me. Like my youngest, Natalie, she was here last time. We had to take her to the hospital a few nights ago because she was sick. Turn out she got some bleach up in her system. My other youngest, Jackie. She call herself cleaning up after Nat because she’d had a little accident...in bed, you know? She poured half a bottle of bleach on the mattress. Don’t know what she was thinking. But she ain’t mean it. She get these things in her head and she just be trying to help...but um...Ricky was real mad. Not as mad as he could’ve been but still pretty mad. He say I just let them run wild.”

“What about other people? Family? Friends? What would they say?”
 

Mr. Silverman’d started writing again so I figured I was on the right track. “They’d say everything was fine. Except for my girlfriend Helen probably. She um...she know the truth.”

“Helen?” He underlined her name and then waited for me to explain. “What would she say?”

“That he ain’t right.” Before he could start sighing again I opened my mouth to keep going. I ain’t know what was gone come out but figured I’d just keep going until I ain’t have nothing else to say. Must’ve worked because when I finally took a breath Mr. Silverman’s mouth was hanging open. In his world men like Ricky ain’t exist. Just folks in suits and women in sparkling jewels. Maybe heaven for me would be something like his world.

“M
AMA
!”

N
IKKI
CAME
RUNNING
to the door before I’d even got a chance to hang up my coat. First thought came to me was something was wrong with Nat. Doctors said she was fine but I kept waiting for something. I got up in the middle of the night just to look in on her. She’d be sleeping so quiet, like a little chocolate-covered angel, my baby was.
 

“Phone, Mama!”

“What?”

“It’s Heziah!” Nikki grinned and took me by the hand. My coat was hanging off, dragging along the floor but she ain’t think nothing of it. Heziah was on the phone. She snatched it outta Jackie’s hand and held it out proudly. “Here, Mama.”

“Hello?” It was what anybody would’ve said, that’s what I figured so I said it.

“Tell him that I finished Moby Dicky!”

“And tell him I got an A on my spelling test.”

“Shh!” I waved the girls outta the kitchen and straightened my dress so I’d look presentable as if he could see me. “How are you?”

Heziah only had one speed. He ain’t say one thing when he meant another. Ain’t use his words like weapons, aiming them at my heart. At least he ain’t try to, that much hadn’t changed. He told me that things were picking up at the carpet store and I told him about my new job. Made myself some tea and tried to pretend like things were normal. Same as they’d always been between us. We were friends. We talked about our days and I did most of the listening. After a while he got to the point.

“Belinda, I miss you. I wanna see you, if that’s okay.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“I’m real busy with work and stuff.”

“Oh.”

My fingernails tapped against the cracked vinyl of the kitchen table blind to the sadness in his voice. He’d left me standing in the cold. My honorable man as it turned out wasn’t so different from all the regular folks that found they way into my heart. So I sat there listening to his silence. Listened so hard I ain’t even hear the sun go down and the front door open.

“Belinda? You still there?”

“Yeah—” Soon as I said it I wanted to take it back. Ricky’s voice boomed through the living room and into the hall. “I gotta go,” I whispered covering the speaking end of the phone with both hands.

“You’re upset. I can tell and I guess I don’t blame you. We should have handled things differently. And I knew that. I just didn’t follow my first mind.”

“Mmhmm. I gotta go.”

“But I’m trying to make up for it now. That is...if you’ll still have me.”

“I…I gotta go.”

The floorboards were creaking up a storm just to let me know I had about a second or two before Ricky was standing in the doorway, looking down on me.

“Belinda?”

Should’ve just hung up on him. Don’t know why I didn’t. Just sat there holding the phone and waiting for what was coming next. Waiting to breathe. But Ricky had no idea I was on the phone with my honorable man because he kept on walking right past me to the stairs and up he went to turn on the shower.

“Belinda?”

“I’m here.”

“Say something. I’m saying that...that I want to make this work. If you still want to that is...”

“I can’t.”

“You changed your mind about leaving your husband?”

My mouth filled up with cotton and I just sat there, staring at the table. Couldn’t tell him my secret. Couldn’t tell him what had been growing up inside me ever since he’d left. Didn’t even matter if it was his because Ricky wasn’t gonna have that. No. My honorable man wasn’t no match for my regular old man. Ricky ain’t need nothing but a minute to tear him limb from limb. My Heziah. My Heziah was a gentle man. He ain’t deserve Ricky’s rage.

“Belinda? Please. Just tell me. Have you changed your mind?”

“Yeah. Me and Ricky worked it out. We staying together.”

“Okay. I understand.” He got real quiet. “I hope y’all are real happy together. Hug the girls for me?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The dial tone rang in my ear for about a minute before I got up the strength to walk over to the wall and hang up the phone. He ain’t bother to say it but I knew what it was. Goodbye always sounded the same, no matter who said it.