Up at the College (27 page)

“I told you it was a good show,” Rochelle said to her sister.

“Yep. You won’t have to worry about me missing another one after seeing that. And that was Dayeesha’s daddy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Elaine said, “that girl looks just like her daddy.”

“She acts like him, too,” Miss Hattie Lee said to them. “Got a temper like him, and will fight in a heartbeat if you ain’t
acting right with her. But she sweet as can be—just like her daddy.”

Elaine wrapped a pink-and-white-striped cape around Miss Hattie Lee’s neck. “Come on. It’s way past time for you to get up
under that dryer. Yvonne, you take this chair right here.”

Elaine patted a sparkly pink vinyl chair and put another pink-and-white cape around Yvonne’s neck. She took off Yvonne’s hat
and slipped the scrunchie off the puffy ponytail.

“Lawd, Yvonne, what have you been doing to your hair? It feels like a booger bear has been chewing on the back of it.”

“But …” Yvonne began in protest, touching the back of her head, embarrassed because it did feel like a “booger bear” had
been chewing on it. She hoped her hair wasn’t looking as bad as it felt.

“Your hair looks fine” was Elaine’s answer to her unspoken question. “But it’s not as healthy as it should be. You have a
beautiful head of hair, girl. Barely needs a perm. But it’s a long way off from where it ought to be.”

“Yeah, big sis,” Rochelle added. “Your hair needs a makeover almost as much as your life.”

Hot tears filled Yvonne’s eyes. She couldn’t believe Rochelle would front her like that. It had been a hard two years. And
there had been a few times when she had questioned her ability to make it through this storm in one piece.

That divorce had been twelve times harder than anything she could have imagined. It seemed as if Darrell’s decision to leave,
or more exactly his decision to make Yvonne leave, had done little to appease his extreme unhappiness about being married
to her. The harder Yvonne worked to move on with her life, the harder Darrell labored to create just one more difficult and
uncalled-for hurdle to cross. Did every encounter with the boy have to be a quagmire of unnecessary mess simply because Yvonne
refused to agree with him that he was right, when he was wrong?

Elaine broke into Yvonne’s thoughts and put a style book and a board full of colored hair samples ranging from black to brown
and red to blonde with a few yellows, purples, a green, and some blues thrown in, on her lap. She said, “Find a style that
suits you, and select a color for highlights, while I go and get Miss Hattie Lee straight.”

“Okay,” Yvonne said. As much as she hated to admit it, Rochelle was right. Her life really needed a makeover. And this time
in the shop was her first step in the direction of a brand-new and completely restored life. People believed that opening
your heart to receive restoration from the Lord required something huge. Sometimes all it took was a baby step, like a new
hairstyle, to let God know you were ready to make that move.

She waited until Elaine had finished with Miss Hattie Lee, and announced, “You know I have a date to tonight’s reception.”

“Aww sookie sookie now,” Elaine said, smiling. “I know I’m gonna hook you up, now. Who is it?”

Yvonne started laughing and blushing. She couldn’t believe it herself. “Coach Parker.”

“Get out of town,” Rochelle said with a huge grin spreading across her face. “Curtis Parker asked you to go with him? When?
How? Why?”

“Why?” Yvonne exclaimed. “Why not?”

“That’s right, baby,” Miss Hattie chimed in. “You tell them. I know Curtis. He’s a good guy and he needs to hook up with a
good woman like you. You know the Bible tells us that a man who finds a wife finds a treasure and gains favor with the Lord.
So, Curtis needs to find a wife and get some favor, so he can get that mess up at the college straightened out. And he sho’
ain’t gone find nothing worth having messing around with Regina Young. Now I know y’all know that Charles used to tap that
tail on a regular basis until he got tired of Regina. That’s when she started going out with Curtis.”

“I thought Regina was knocking boots with Charles Robinson on the sly,” Elaine said.

“That Regina wears some expensive clothes that look like they should be on somebody from
Sex and the City
,” Miss Hattie Lee continued. “But she ain’t nothing but a piece of Kmart trying to perpetrate as Nordstrom’s. Now, don’t
get me wrong—I don’t have anything against Kmart. But it’s not Nordstrom’s, and there is nothing that will change that fact.”

“Miss Hattie Lee,” Elaine said, as she sprayed her hair with setting lotion and wrapped it, “you know your dancing self is
just as crazy.”

Miss Hattie Lee chuckled and said, “You know I ain’t telling nothing but truth.”

“Nothing but the truth,” the other three said.

“I’m going to put you back under the dryer, and then get to work on Yvonne’s head.”

Elaine made sure that the dryer was warm and Miss Hattie Lee had all that she needed before returning to roll up her sleeves
to get Yvonne whipped into shape. She put a perm mask over her face, put on some gloves, and went and got the perm jar.

“You are going to like this perm, Yvonne. It’s brand-new, no lye, and was created by a brother. It is so pretty on, and makes
your hair silky soft.”

As Elaine was spreading the perm into Yvonne’s hair, Rochelle said, “You still haven’t told me how all of this came about.
I didn’t even know that Curtis had finally kicked Regina to the curb. Did he find out that she is knocking boots with Gilead
Jackson on the low-low?”

“You know what,” Yvonne said, frowning. “Knocking boots with Gilead Jackson is as bad as somebody telling Kordell Bivens that
they want to give him some.”

“Ewwww, Yvonne,” Rochelle said. “You are going to make me throw up.”

“Me, too,” Elaine chimed in, and wrinkled up her whole face at just the thought of that conversation. “Come on and let me
wash this out so that I can do the color. You find something you like?”

“Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to warm it up with a brown that brings out some of the reddish highlights.”

“I agree,” Elaine said as she washed and rinsed Yvonne’s hair.

“So, big sis, how did Curtis ask you out?”

“He asked me when he walked me to the car after that crazy meeting. I was about to cry and he comforted me and next thing
I knew, Maurice was there and telling Curtis what time to pick me up.”

Rochelle closed her eyes and just shook her head. Yvonne was the only person she knew who would get asked out by a fine brother
like Curtis Parker by somebody else, after fussing and fighting, and then breaking down and crying in the parking lot. She
could picture it all, including their cousin Maurice putting his two cents in and getting the time straight for the date.

Elaine finished drying off Yvonne’s hair with a towel, mixed up her color of a dark golden brown with some red in it, and
applied it to her hair. She put a plastic cap over her head and led her to the dryer, taking a moment to get Miss Hattie Lee
so that she could finish styling and curling her hair.

Once Yvonne’s hair color had baked in, it didn’t take long for Elaine to wash, rinse, and condition her before she cut it
wet. That perm was looking good—wet and unstyled. So Elaine knew what the girl’s hair was going to look like when she finished.
She picked up a pair of shears and began snipping off dead hair and giving Yvonne’s hair shape and definition.

“You’re not going to cut it too short, are you?” Yvonne asked, eyes glued to those scissors.

Elaine didn’t open her mouth, just kept snipping away because she knew that this cut was going to make Yvonne’s new look sizzle.
She said, “This is nice.”

“Yeah, Yvonne,” Rochelle said, “that cut is off the chain.”

Elaine pulled out the blow-dryer.

“Normally, I would put you under the big dryer. But I want to get you out of here so you can relax before it’s time to get
ready for your date with Coach.”

“I agree,” Miss Hattie Lee said. “That boy is so good-looking. Sexy, too. He looks like he
knows
what to do with a woman behind closed doors.”

“I heard that,” Elaine said, laughing. “You get all hugged up with Curtis Parker and you in trouble.” She blew Yvonne’s hair
dry and pulled out the flat iron. “Girl, this color is out of sight. It has your complexion glowing.”

Yvonne’s hair was silky and the cut fell in place with the slightest move of her head. It didn’t take but a hot minute for
Elaine to flat-iron and style it.

“Umph,” Elaine exclaimed. “That head is looking good. No one will say your hair looks like a booger bear got a hold of it
today.”

“Baby,” Miss Hattie Lee said, “your hair looks like something in a magazine. I always knew you were cute. But now you look
like a million dollars.”

“Yeah, big sis. Your hair is gorgeous.”

“Here,” Elaine said as she handed Yvonne a mirror. “Check it out your own self.”

Yvonne took the mirror and stared at the back of her hair. She then swirled around in the chair and gazed at the front. Her
hair was silky soft and bouncy. Elaine had given her a chin-length bob that was cut thick and full, and moved and caught the
light every time Yvonne moved her head.

“I love the color, Elaine.”

“Now, your makeup,” Elaine said as she handed Yvonne a pink-and-white bag full of face products. “This is your ‘I’m glad the
other negro left, so I could meet the new and improved negro’ gift.”

Yvonne opened the bag. It had face cleanser, toner, moisturizer, a mask, sparkling gold and golden-brown eyeshadow, ebony
eyeliner, a shimmering blush, and that new mineral powder foundation Yvonne had been waiting to pick up at Sephora.

“Thank you, Elaine. You know you are my girl.”

“Just take some pictures. I would have gone to the reception but it’s been a long week and I need to get some rest. You know
I’m flying down to Key West with my new man next week.”

“Oooh,” Rochelle said, “you so fast, Elaine.”

“Nothing like that happening, even though it’s gone be hard to keep my hands off of Ronald Newson. That’s a whole lot of caramel
to be gazing on over the length of seventy-two hours.”

“I heard that,” Miss Hattie Lee said. “Ronald Newson is a good-looking man. Good guy.”

“Miss Hattie Lee,” Rochelle said as she went to retrieve a bag from Elaine’s closet, “how is it that you know all of these
men and something about them?”

“Okay, baby, I work at Rumpshakers Hip-Hop Gentlemen’s Club, and when I dance, I wear a long black wig, a red costume, and
call myself Fatima. Doesn’t it stand to reason that I’d be one of the best people to come to about some man in Durham County?
Don’t you think that most of them have graced the threshold of Rumpshakers at least once?”

“I guess you have a point,” Rochelle conceded, and then got nosy. “So, who
hasn’t
gone to Rumpshakers?”

“Your cousin Maurice has never been to the dance part. The one time he was there, he spent the entire time down in the kitchen
with me. Reverend Quincey has never even set foot on the property. And Reverend Cousin won’t even drive by the street. Oh,
Apostle Grady Grey and Dotsy Hamilton have only come in to get some of their new members. But they didn’t even stay to eat.
So I packed them up some plates to take home.”

“Who has come that don’t want nobody to know they’ve been there?” Yvonne asked.

“Jethro Winters. And the only reason he didn’t want anybody to know he was there because he keeps his taste for brown sugar
on the down-low. He tried to get a membership pass but Charles turned him down.

“Sam Redmond, and that boy on the Durham Urban Development Committee that gave Lamont Green such a fit. You know that one
black man on the committee whose name nobody can ever remember.”

They all nodded. Nobody could remember that Uncle Tom’s name to save their lives. And they needed to know his name because
he did a lot of damage to black folks in Durham—especially poor black folks and the ones who ran into trouble with the law.

“And what ticks me off so much with that man,” Miss Hattie Lee continued, “is that he is always running around Durham acting
like he is so good and upstanding. That is so wrong and dishonest. I may do some things, but I am honest about who I am and
what I do.”

R
ochelle picked up the lavender satin garment bag with MISS THANG’S HOLY GHOST CORNER AND CHURCH WOMAN BOUTIQUE embroidered
on it with black silk thread, unzipped it, and pulled out a baby-blue velvet suit with a pale blue, cocoa, and silver silk
jersey halter top. It was one of the sharpest and sexiest outfits Yvonne had seen in a long time.

Yvonne took a peek at the price tag and almost started hyperventilating. This outfit clearly came from that new designer’s
corner in her friend Theresa Hopson Green’s store.

Rochelle ignored Yvonne’s theatrics and dug down in the bag for the shoes and handbag.

“Check this out,” she said, grinning just like the baby sister that she was, and held up the baby-blue suede three-inch-heeled
pumps trimmed in the same colors as the halter top. She put the matching clutch bag in Yvonne’s hands.

“Don’t this feel good?”

Yvonne ran her hands across the soft suede. It did feel awfully good. She handed it to Elaine, who said, “Rochelle, you know
this thang ain’t nothing but the truth,” as she put the purse in Miss Hattie Lee’s hands. “Feel this thang.”

Miss Hattie Lee ran her hands across the beautiful handbag and then eyed Yvonne, who was sitting in the chair looking about
as excited as somebody waiting to get a root canal.

“Baby, don’t you like this outfit? It’s got your name written all over it.”

“That’s what Theresa and I thought when we picked it out,” Rochelle said.

“I love it,” Yvonne said, wondering if any of them had taken the time to find out how much all of this “nothin’ but the truth”
merchandise cost.

Rochelle frowned. Yvonne was getting ready to get on her high horse about the sacrifices that had to be made when “one is
a single parent.” She wanted to shake her sister—Yvonne could be such an ol’ stick-in-the-mud when she wanted to. Rochelle
didn’t care how much this outfit cost, Yvonne needed to get out of this rut she’d buried herself in. Plus, she needed to look
especially good now that Coach was taking her to the reception. Yvonne was wearing that outfit if Rochelle had to beat her
down and stuff her in it.