Wouldn’t Change a Thing (9 page)

Aunt Mavis slows her pace so I can take in the city. I ache for the missing staples that have disappeared. Allied Department Store is gone, the place Mama stocked up on hosiery and bras. Deraney's was Willa's favorite store because the proprietor set aside Jordache jeans for her and allowed her to pay for them with her Captain D's earnings.

I look to the right and gasp. “What happened to the Hargrove Theater?”

“Burned down years ago. I was hoping they'd rebuild it. I loved double-dating with your parents there.”

“Remember the Thanksgiving movie festival every year? Or the time Mama snatched the wig off that woman's head she thought Daddy was seeing?”

“All Paul did was fix Cathy Jean's bathroom cabinets, but your mother wasn't convinced.”

Laughter fills the car and Whiplash releases a low growl as if she remembers the snatching too.

She taps the steering wheel. “We need to stop at IGA for Sure-Jell. Before you called, Ray and I were canning jelly and cucumbers. The kitchen is a mess. You've been warned.”

She parks at IGA and fishes in her purse for money. I stop her frantic search.

“I've got a little over one hundred dollars,” I joke.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Lamonte went to the bank—never mind. I'll get what you need.”

My attempt at humor reminds me of how much I never knew him. I look at Aunt Mavis and decide to keep his funds siphoning to myself. She looks exhausted. Guilt fills me for having her come to my rescue.

“Tell me how many boxes I need to get.”

“Get three of the small ones and Morton's Kosher salt.” She hands me a twenty and I give it back.

“Your money's no good here.”

Whiplash barks and scratches at the door.

“I'll be right back, girl. Stay put.”

I head inside and am greeted with hellos and smiles. Lamonte promised me that when we retired, we'd move to a small town and purchase a gigantic house in the country with a wraparound porch.

I shake away that memory as I stop at the tomatoes. “Lamonte is no more. Lamonte is no more.”

“Did you say something, Sugar?” an older man standing in produce asks me. He steps closer and I admire his blue linen leisure suit. He tinkers with the black-and-silver Medic-Alert bracelet on his left wrist and smiles, releasing a fresh burst of Listerine.

“I said tomatoes galore, tomatoes galore.”

“They sure are pretty this time of the year. You can make some real good chow-chow with these green ones.” He lifts one for me to inspect, then places the tomato with the others and extends his right hand. “Name's Battle. You from around here?”

“I'm just running in for my Aunt Mavis.”

“Lawton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That's your aunt?”

I nod.

“I been knowing May and Ray for years. They're good people.” He considers my branch on the family tree and touches my shoulder. “How your Mama and 'nem doing? Been a while since I've seen Greta.”

“Everybody's fine.” I swallow hard and do what I do best. “I am on my way to see her today.”

“Tell her Battle said hey for me, okay? Me and Ray go way back. Fought in 'Nam together and everything. I knew he was gonna be something in the military. He always did have good leadership abilities. Your daddy, Paul, made the best cabinets in the South. Had the market cornered 'til he moved up North. Matter of fact, tell 'em all I said hello.”

“I will, sir. Thank you for your kind words.”

“You ain't got to be so formal. Call me Battle.”

“Okay…Battle. I'll tell them you said hello.”

I slink away in hopes no one else stops me for small talk. I could do this all day. This is what I longed for in Atlanta—a place to call home where someone knew me, knew my people. I make it past the honeybuns and breads and my stomach growls. I stop at the sound of raucous laughter between women one aisle over. As soon as I find the Sure-Jell, I will creep behind them to find the source of their joy.

“It's like I said, Norma, you can't beat good home training. These young folks don't know a
thank you
from a
please.
Forget about
ma'am
and
excuse me
. I don't know who's raising them, but that's been lost in the school system.”

“Mmm-hmmm. Sure is.”

I nod my amen and think of some of the youth I encountered while mentoring.

“When I was teaching, there was a respect code the kids had to follow. None of this sagging pants and earbud, head-bopping mess I see now. I don't know how these young teachers do it. I would have been on the news for slapping the taste out of their mouths.”

“Shirley, quit. You have more tact and couth than that.”

“Norma, did you hear who the cat dragged back into town?”

“Shirley, I've got to get my commodities and watch my stories. Make it quick.”

“That ole' prodigal daughter of Greta and Paul's.”

“Hush yo mouth!”

My legs are driftwood. I stay on my aisle, but inch closer to the bottles of salad dressing.

“You didn't see the story in the
AJC
?”

“Girl, no.”

“You taking this unplugging from society too seriously. You know that girl left here years ago and nobody had seen hide nor hair of her until they did a story on the state of mental health in Georgia. But I knew where she was because of the lowdown way she did my granddaughter, Annette.”

“Where was she all that time?”

“Up in Atlanta with Clayton.”

“Myles?”

“Mmm-hmmm. I still can't look his ex-wife, Lorene, in her face. Looks like she would have known he was sweeter than a pecan pie, but she spent all those years holding on for nothing.”

“Well, he is what he is. I'd rather he be himself than to pretend to want that woman and play with her feelings.”

“Norma Ann Jasper, you've lost your religion! Ain't
nothing
right about what you're saying!”

I race to the next aisle and confront the women. “If you have something to say about me or my family, say it to my face.”

Norma is the weaker one. She breaks their semi-circle, drops her face, and allows me enough space to face the bully, Shirley. Shirley slings her purse over her shoulder and tightens her grip on the handle in case she decides to swing it my way.

“I'm not changing one word. You should be ashamed to show your face around here. Pretending your mother is dead and acting like you don't have family in this town.”

“Shirley, don't.” Norma digs her fingers into Shirley's arm, but she is stronger than a planted tree.

Her voice grows louder. “It ain't like Atlanta is Los Angeles. Bet you were so proud of yourself sitting up on TV during that interview, showing pictures of you and your sister, like nobody knew who you were.”

“What my family does is none of your business.”

A small crowd gathers as Shirley gains momentum. “It is my business when my granddaughter speaks to you while taking her class on a field trip and you act like you don't know her!”

Her granddaughter, also my fourth-grade classmate, Annette Cousins, spotted me at the World of Coca-Cola. Her students gathered around her as she handed them tickets. I heard my name, but ignored it because I was taking a break to clear my head from a hectic project.

Her voice grew louder as I walked in the opposite direction. “Aren't you Antoinette Willamson from Sparta? We went to school together years ago.”

She stopped me and I faced her. “You have me mistaken for someone else.”

“It has to be you. I'd know you anywhere. Remember, the Hollywood Daddy game? Our shared bully, Lisa.” She laughed but regained her composure when I wouldn't travel down memory lane with her.

“Truly, I'm not the person you're looking for. Sorry.” I walked away with a ton of remorse.

Karma kicks in again as Shirley keeps going. “All she wanted to do was introduce you to her students since you'd done so well for yourself. She was so proud of her
successful
classmate.” Her air quotes as she says
successful
are hard and vicious.

The crowd parts like the Red Sea as my aunt, uncle, and Whiplash approach us. “What's going on here?”

Shirley shifts her purse to the opposite shoulder. “Well, if it isn't Queen Mavis, the Sparta Secret Keeper.”

“What did you say to her, Shirley?”

“Only that she's ungrateful and should be ashamed to show her face around here. Everything else she needs to know, you should tell her. Then again, that's not the Lawton way, is it?”

A few
mmmm-hmmms
and
ain't that the truths
fill the aisle. Aunt Mavis turns on her heels and I attempt to follow her out.

A familiar woman in the crowd in a stylish suit shoves a piece of paper in my right hand and lifts her fingers to her ear. “Call me.”

I
should have never spoken to the paper. It's been a few days and Toni hasn't come to see me yet. I had this dream that she would run to the Cooper Building, demand to see me, then take me out to the courtyard and sit and talk with me like old times. I didn't expect Willa to come, but Toni…I wanted her to come to my rescue.

I've been going back and forth to the window, looking down. I don't know what kind of car she drives, but I'd know her if I saw her. She'll stop at Kroger on 441 and get me this big bouquet of pink, red, and blue flowers. Maybe she'll remember our Thursday night fish fries and stop over at James Fish and Chicken and get a dinner for me. Even though I haven't eaten in a few days, I would eat for her. I received an injection because they said I hit Annalease. I would never harm her.

'Halia is mad at me and hasn't been to see me. Jesus either. Clark is as irregular as a menopausal woman's period, so I don't think he's coming back. I'm a little disappointed in ‘Halia. Maybe she's disappointed in me. I'm thinking back to the last time I saw her and can't figure out what I did wrong. We talked about our marriages, about her singing, and how she fed people in her neighborhood. Then we got into an argument about child-rearing. 'Halia said I should love both my daughters the same. She shook her head and folded her arms when I told her about Willa poisoning me. She said daughters didn't do such terrible things to their mothers and I should apologize.

I told her I would do no such thing. I knew what I was talking about and she didn't have a right to judge me. I shouted at her and told her just because she played concert halls and sang to large crowds didn't mean she knew about motherhood. Our argument was so bad Annalease stepped in to keep me from fighting with 'Halia. That's when they say I hit Annalease and knocked her unconscious. Now, she's been moved to another room. Nurse Whipple said she wanted to be by herself. I don't believe her because Annalease is like my third daughter. She hasn't been in the dining room for a few days and I wonder where she is.

Everybody is being taken away from me. I can't even get up to look out the window 'cause I'm woozy. I try to turn sideways and almost succeed before Nurse Whipple's chipper ass comes through the door carrying a tray of food and something to drink. It is humanly impossible for a person to be that happy all the time. She's got another thing coming if she thinks I'm eating today. She's all smiles, as happy as the smiley face scrubs she's wearing. The words
Put on a happy face
surround the smiles.

“Good afternoon, Greta.” She says it like she's singing a show tune.

“What's so good about it?”

“You're alive and well! I can't think of anything better than that, Greta.” She grins and I notice a plastic medicine cup on the food tray. I'm not eating the food, and I'm not taking those pills. If she tries to force them on me, I'll bite her.

“I brought pimento cheese sandwiches and sweet tea.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You haven't eaten in days. Daniel told me you attacked him when he brought food on Sunday.”

“I don't like him.”

“He was doing his job. We're all concerned about you. I bet if you take your medication you'll feel so much better.”

“I don't like taking meds.”

“The sooner you eat and take your meds, the sooner you'll feel better. You'll be able to leave this room.”

“Has my daughter come to see me yet?”

Nurse Whipple's smile glows brighter. “Not yet, but I believe she'll come to see you soon.”

“You don't think she's mad at me?”

“Why would she be?”

“She hasn't been here and I want to know she's okay.”

Nurse Whipple bends next to my chair. “I don't know about your daughter, but I promise Mahalia will come to see you if you eat.”

“You know about 'Halia?”