Pretty Hate (New Adult Novel) (33 page)

“She had a hard day,” Ivory-Lou said and stared at my mother.

“I did not ask to be born, Mama. And you have resented me my whole goddamn life and the thing is, I just wanted you to acknowledge me. You never even watched me,” I said and looked down at the table.

“What are you talking about?” she said.

“It’s always bothered me that you never watched me. Whenever we had those concerts in the house when we were little, you’d always watch Rebel Love and Mazie Goodnight do their songs, but you always left the room when it was my turn.”

“I certainly did watch you!” my mother said. “Remember when you did that old Al Green song? That was beautiful, Beth.”

“That was Mazie, Mama!” I said.

“What performances?” Ivory-Lou said.

“We used to go through Johnny Munroe’s old albums,” Rebel Love said. “We’d pick out songs for each other to do and then sing them with the record. We dressed up. It was fun. And, Mama, I agree with Beth. It was noticeable.”

“Now she’s infected your brain with lies too? Did I ever do any right as your mother?” she said and looked into her empty glass.

“You know what I’ve wanted from you all my life, Mama? For once, just one time, you ask me how I am before you start on a tirade about every little insignificant thing going wrong in your life. When did you ever just hug me or tell me everything was gonna be okay?”

“That ain’t my way, Beth. Besides, it’s not my job to blow sunshine up your ass.”

“You’re my fucking mother!” I said. “I wanted you to take care of me, Mama. I only wanted you to take care of me same way you expected me to take care of you. And today, I’ve come from seeing the reason you were a vegetable all my life and I can’t shore it up in my head. I just can’t.”

“Beth,” Rebel Love said, “you’re tired and this doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere. Let’s go home.”

I watched my mother staring out the dining room window of Merry-Bell’s house as Ivory-Lou backed out of her driveway.

“I just want her to say she understands,” I said as I rested my head against the car’s window. “I don’t want her to do anything or solve any problem, I don’t even want an apology. I just want her to say:
I understand, Beth
.”

“But she does not understand, Beth. And it really doesn’t matter. All the understanding in the world from that woman is not gonna change one goddamn thing,” he said. “You need to get past this, be a warrior, Beth. You think I had any easy life? Shit, it doesn’t take fucking Freud to figure out that a man who grows up to be a pimp must have had a bit of a rocky upbringing.”

“I know there are some worse,” I said and stared at him.

“You need to fight through, like I did. I never stood down, Beth and never followed one fucking rule. Stop following the rules, Beth.”

I walked into the house, took a long, scalding shower and fell into my bed. I slept for forty-eight hours and when I woke up, I did not leave my room for seven days.

Rebel Love and the girls left food outside my door three times a day and Ivory-Lou came in periodically to check on me. I turned off my phone so I didn’t see any more calls or texts from India and Stephanie came by every day and taped a note to my door.

I deleted my Facebook page and unsubscribed to the comment notifications on my video at smutzoo.com. I stared at my ceiling and one thought flew through my head more than any other:
what are you going to do, Beth
?

I went up in my closet and pulled down three shoeboxes that I kept hidden in the back. Inside were rolls and rolls of undeveloped film. I dumped the boxes out on my bed and stared at them.

“You can do this, Beth,” I said and opened my computer.

Ivory-Lou came in a few hours later for his nightly check-in.

“What’s all this?” he said as he pushed the film aside and sat on my bed.

“I was wondering if you’d consider helping me build a darkroom.”

He stared at the film rolls and nodded.

“What kind of an investment you talking about?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been doing some research and I think about a grand.”

“How much do you have?” he said and as he stared at me.

“Um, about two dollars,” I said and smiled.

“You know where to get all this shit? I don’t want anything half-assed in my home.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Top of the line, Beth. You’re either in it to win it or you don’t even bother, understand?”

“Did Sun Tzu say that?”

It took two weeks and when it was all finished, I built a fairly sophisticated darkroom in a room off the patio near Ivory-Lou’s pool.

“You have your own artist’s space, Beth,” Rebel Love said one morning when she brought me a cup of coffee. “I think this is amazing.”

“Ivory-Lou even set up a sweet little stereo system for me so I can listen to music,” I said and smiled.

“I’m proud of you, Beth,” Rebel Love said. “You’re finally taking control. Mazie Goodnight is going to freak when she sees it.”

“Has she said anything to you about that Matthew thing she was talking about?”

“I think she’s over that, Beth. You know, we all go through different phases.”

“Well, I’m excited to see her whether she shows up in a moustache or not,” I said and poured some developer into a tray. “I found a whole roll of film from when we were kids. I’m going to try to have them done by tomorrow.”

“Good. Um, have you spoken with India?”

“Nope,” I said. “She’s called me a million times, sent texts and emails...I’ve ignored all of them. There is nothing she could possibly say.”

“Yeah, I get it. You look better, Beth.”

“I think the Ecstasy finally left my system.”

I worked all night developing a roll of film I found from when me, Mazie Goodnight and Rebel Love were kids. I hung a line across the room for drying the pictures and as I pinned them to the line, I noticed something in the corner of one of the photographs that made me gasp.

I took the photo off the line and ran into the house. Rebel Love and Sadie were cooking in the kitchen and Ivory-Lou was shouting orders.

“Now, don’t overcook the spaghetti. Ain’t nothing worse than mushy noodles. Hey, zombie, you been up all night again? Your sister is gonna be here soon. Try and look decent so she don’t think I’ve been abusing your ass.”

“Beth,” Rebel Love said as she turned from the stove, “I want to do something and I would really like you to agree.”

“What?”

“I want to invite Mama and Merry-Bell to supper. Just one night, Beth. Is that okay?”

“Fine,” I said, “invite them.”

“Well, that was easy,” Rebel Love said and smiled as she looked at Ivory-Lou.

“I tell you what,” Ivory-Lou said as he sipped on a Bloody Mary, “if your bat-shit aunty asks me if I want any fried chicken or watermelon again, I’m gonna give her what for!”

“She’s racist, baby,” Rebel Love said and sighed. “She’s from a different time.”

“She’s from a different goddamn planet,” Ivory-Lou said and snapped his newspaper.

“Rebel Love, I want you to look at this photograph,” I said as I handed her the picture.

Rebel Love stared at the 8x10 color picture and smiled.

“Oh my God, Beth, it’s you!” she said “When was this?”

“It was one of our performances. I thought maybe you’d remember,” I said.

“Holy shit, this is the
Go Your Own Way
picture! I so remember that,” she said and turned to Ivory-Lou. “I always loved doing the Pat Benatar songs. Anyway, this day, we dressed Bethy up and chose
Go Your Own Way
for her. Man, she was amazing.”

“Fuck is
Go Your Own Way
?”

“Baby! You cannot be serious,” Rebel Love said.

“You forget, he was probably listening to El Debarge and Bobby Brown. It’s a Fleetwood Mac song. They’re a band.”

“I know what the fuck Fleetwood Mac is!”

“Look at the picture again, Rebel Love,” I said.

“What am I looking for?” she said as she stared at the picture. “Oh, shit! How did I miss that?”

“What?” Ivory-Lou said.

Rebel Love handed Ivory-Lou the photograph and he stared at it. When he saw what we saw he smiled.

“Guess she was watching,” Ivory-Lou said and nodded.

Mazie Goodnight arrived a few hours later and she was very much the beautiful girl she was when she first went off to school. I took her into the darkroom and her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s beautiful, Beth. How come you never told anyone this is what you wanted?”

“Because, you went first,” I said and stared at some pictures I just hung when Nicolas and I went to Glade Creek.

“So?” she said and stood next to me and stared at the pictures.

“So, I didn’t think I could say it because you went first. Mama would have said I was a copycat or it was a stupid idea or something like that.”

“You’re really good, Beth,” she said and put her arm around me. “You need to pursue this. I mean, do you want to?”

“I think I do. I get lost when I’m doing this, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“But sometimes, I hear these voices as I’m working so hard on this that tell me to stop or that it’s a useless pursuit or that I suck. I wonder if I’m wasting my time.”

“That’s normal, Beth. I feel it, everyone does. It’s called doubt. You just have to push past it. Hey, that picture of you is awesome,” Mazie said as she stared at the only photo in existence of me and Nicolas. “Is that the infamous Nicolas? He’s really hot.”

“Yes,” I said and sighed as I stared at the picture.

“You should scan it and send it to him, Beth. How long has it been since you’ve talked to him?”

“Oh, since before the face like a can of smashed assholes comment heard ‘round the world. He doesn’t want to talk to me, Mazie. I stupidly listened to India and was really rude to him. I, once again, assumed rather than took a shot and asked the question.”

“Send it to him, Beth. It’s been a while and at the very least, it may leave him with good memories of you rather than thinking of you as the girl who assumed he liked girls who have faces like cans of smashed assholes.”

“I will think on it,” I said as I stared at the picture.

As we set the table we joked around and I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much. Even Ivory-Lou was in a good mood as he made Sangria for our dinner.

“Rebel Love told me Billy Rider died a few weeks ago,” Mazie Goodnight said as she folded the cloth napkins Rebel wanted on the table.

“Yeah,” I said and stared at Ivory-Lou. “The baby will be coming soon. It’s better this way, I suppose.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The doorbell rang and we all fought over who should answer the door.

“I
will answer the door,” Ivory-Lou said as he pushed us all aside and walked into the foyer. “I am still the man of this house!”

He opened the door and my mother and Merry-Bell stood in the doorway. My mother looked nervous and Merry-Bell smiled and held out a pink Jell-o mold.

“Made it myself,” she said and smiled at Ivory-Lou. “It’s watermelon.”

Ivory-Lou looked down at her and took a deep breath.

“Never had no bat-shit crazy white aunty cross my threshold before.”

“First time for everything,” she said and walked around him and into the house.

Mazie Goodnight gave Merry-Bell a hug then ran to our mother and hugged her. Mama stared at me over Mazie’s shoulder with tears in her eyes.

“Cheese and crackers, you got yourself a big place!” Merry-Bell said as she walked in a circle in the living room. “You get this all from slinging tail? I’d probably be good at that.”

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Ivory-Lou said. “May I take your coat?”

“Listen to this one...
may I take your coat
,” Merry-Bell said and snorted. “You been watching the
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
?”

“Merry-Bell, easy on the comments,” my mother said. “He’s a good man.”

“I ain’t never said he wasn’t a good man. Long as he’s good to Rebel Love, he’s okay in my book. You good to Rebel Love?” she said and looked up at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ivory-Lou said and looked down at her.

“You don’t shit where you eat, do you?”

“Ma’am?” he said.

“My niece is special. Don’t you go treating her like one of them loosey-goosey girls.”

“No, ma’am,” he said and sighed as he took Merry-Bell’s coat.

We all sat at the table and Mazie Goodnight proposed a toast and Merry-Bell said grace and thanked Jesus for little white babies and little black babies holding hands. Rebel Love stared at me across the table and winked.