Sixty-Nine Read online

She sort of raised her shoulder to pull away by an inch or so and gave a nervous, single, small giggle. Her right hand was shut tight.

  He leaned down farther, and under the bright fluorescent lighting he placed a kiss on the back of her neck with full lips. His eyes stayed aimed at where he’d kissed, and he asked, “What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “That. On the back of your neck.”

  “Oh, nothing It’s just a scar.” She took her hair from his hand and turned toward him, just praying he referred to the tattoo on her shoulder that read, Maestro.

  “From surgery?”

  She cleared her throat, knowing this wasn’t about her tattoo. “Just some stitches. It was a long time ago. You know how kids are. I was a tomboy.” Her giggle was minor. She again tightened the belt.

  “Oh. Okay.” He took a step back, eyes still looking curious. He watched her readjust her hair, and then he walked toward the door.

  She took a short breath and turned toward him again, speaking to his back. “By the way. What’s your last name?”

  He barely turned his head to her, facing the door. His reply was delayed and low. “Collins.”

  She nodded once. “Mine is Palo,” she said, giving her maiden name.

  He nodded once. “Nice to meet you, Rebe Palo.” A gradual smile spread on his face and he walked out, back into the bedroom. Seconds later he collapsed onto his back, on the disheveled bed with his arm over his face, shielding his eyes.

  She closed the bathroom door.

  Walked back to the sink.

  Grabbed the upside-down drinking glass that was on the paper doily and filled it with tap water.

  She took a sip, swallowing three pills that had been in her hand. She sipped again, and gulped.

  Leaning her hand along the sink, she looked down at her bare feet.

  And even though she accomplished her sexual resolution so soon, Rebe Palo-Richardson, quiet as a mouse, cried like a newborn baby.

  Three

  “Grandma’s Hands”

  Magnolia

  INT.—GRANDMA GRACE’S HOME—MIRAMAR, FLORIDA—EARLY EVENING

  New Year’s Day 2009

  A homemade milk-chocolate cake with a rainbow menagerie of Happy Birthday candles sat on the white-tile kitchen counter in a crystal cake server.

  The new morning of the new year had transformed into very early evening. Half past six to be exact, on a Friday. The leftover sun was soon to disappear.

  “There are good men out there, now Magnolia. Not every man is going to cheat on you.”

  Magnolia’s seventy-two-year-old grandmother wore wisdom on her oval face like a tattoo. She looked at least thirteen years younger. With her slender frame and straight-from-the-bottle, saucy beige hair color, she was attractive. And her mind was sharp as a tack.

  Magnolia called her Gigi, short for Grandma Grace. Widowed, Gigi lived alone in her home in Broward County in a rundown neighborhood that statistically was considered a high crime area, but years ago it was the complete opposite, much more upscale.

  Magnolia said to her grandmother, “I hear you say not every man will cheat, but I haven’t seen proof of it yet. And honestly, I really don’t care anymore.” In her cargo pants and eyelet peasant top, Magnolia kicked off her gold flats, getting comfortable. Saying she didn’t care was common for her.

  The fifteen-hundred-square-foot, two-bedroom house, which at the moment smelled like some serious soul food and homemade cheddar biscuits, was the same home Magnolia grew up in, on Casablanca Drive. The weather-beaten, white house with the taller than tall sweet gum tree in the front, was built in the late 1950s. Ida and Norman Grace bought it brand-new. It had an empty swimming pool that hadn’t been filled in a decade, and a long, narrow driveway that led to a pink one-car garage, and a front door that was the same color.

  Right around the time they’d bought the house, Magnolia’s mother, June Butler, gave birth to Magnolia. June actually lived three streets down in a rented house on Plantation Boulevard. But just when Magnolia reached four weeks old, they brought her to live with them after June had her breakdown, which her mother blamed on baby blues, but everyone on the outside knew she had issues. Issues that her parents hoped being a young mother would cure. But it only made it worse.

  Being that it was the anniversary of Magnolia’s birth, she was right where she wanted to be.

  Magnolia sat in the family room on the contemporary brown sofa she’d bought her grandmother, the oversized sofa that rested on the new ivory ceramic tiled flooring she had put in for Gigi last month. Magnolia also wore the silver link chain with the black angel charm her grandmother had given her when she was a teen. She never took it off.

  Gigi wore her usual red-rimmed eyeglasses. She leaned back in her two-decade-old tan recliner with her feet propped up. “Oh yes you do, baby girl. I never believe you when you say you don’t care. You care.”

  Magnolia gave a certain look. “This time, please believe me.”

  Gigi’s age-defined hands rested in her lap, fingers interlocked. She still wore her emerald-cut wedding ring. Never took it off either. “I felt the same way after your mom’s dad ended up being a rolling stone. But your Grandpa Norm came into my life and proved me wrong. He was a good man, Magnolia. We were together for more than forty-two years before he died.” She wore fluffy house shoes, her legs crossed at the ankles.

  “Oh, I know he was. But I’ve found Grandpa Norm to be the exception to the rule, unfortunately. These men have the mentality of too many women, too little time. I have no time for that.”

  Gigi pointed her light brown eyes as if they were fingers. “Now don’t you talk like that. You can’t put all that mess in your head, otherwise you’ll start bringing it to you. You have to be positive. God is getting you ready for your ordained mate. All these other men are part of the preparation. You have to pray, baby girl. And just when it looks like you’re getting more of the same, pray some more. The right man is out there and God will bring him to you when the time is right.”

  Magnolia brought her bare feet up onto the cushion beside her, tucking them to her side. “That sounds sweet. But, Gigi, at this stage in my life, I’m just not having much faith in all that. I’m forty. I thought I’d have three kids by now. And only one husband.”

  “Baby girl, you’ve been busy with your education and all that you do at that bank. You didn’t make vice president overnight. You’ve had relationships before, and you’ll have more. The babies will come in time if it’s the good Lord’s will.” She reached over to the timeworn TV tray and picked up a piece of peppermint candy, undoing the wrapper and popping it into her mouth.

  Magnolia leaned her head back along the cushion. “Not from this body.”

  Gigi smiled at her granddaughter big, exposing her tongue working her mint. She spoke and sucked the candy at the same time. “You’re funny. Young as you are, you’re acting like you’re ready for a cane or something. Forty is nothing.” She shook her head as though amused. “I’m the one who can speak on old, not you.” Gigi looked serious but winked at her granddaughter. She reached back behind her head and fiddled with the worn and nearly torn rubber band that held her shoulder length hair into a ponytail. “It’s funny. You know your mother called the other day, which rarely happens. She called from who knows where. And she asked me that very question, about whether or not I thought you’d make her a grandmother. I told her it’s all up to God.” Gigi placed her hands back on her lap.

  Magnolia looked unenthused. “Please. With all due respect to you, my mom’s got some questions to ask God about herself, not about me. Besides, what would make her think she’d even deserve to be a grandmother? What does she know about babies? God blessed her with a daughter she couldn’t even show up for. Considering how much you and Grandpa taught me, I’m wondering how she missed out on the basic skills like, first you get your own husband, not someone else’s, then you have children, in that order.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry. I just want a norm
al life, not a life of havoc. Not a life filled with mistakes like she made.”

  Gigi bit into her mint with her back teeth, cracking it into pieces and crunching, but talking with her mouth open like her words just couldn’t wait. “Now I just know you’re not using the word mistake when it comes to you, right? I’m not even going to sit here and let you talk like that.”

  Magnolia looked down, rubbed her feet, and was expressionless. “No ma’am. I didn’t mean me in particular.”

  “Baby girl, I’ve always known how you’ve felt about your mom. She’s had some serious problems, and yes, she still does. But that’s why we took you in. Whatever it is she didn’t get, you did. Whatever it was you needed, we got for you. She may have never known how it was supposed to be, but you do, and that’s what matters.”

  Magnolia looked over at her grandmother. Her face agreed with what she heard. “You’re right.”

  Gigi lowered the footrest of her recliner and came to a slow stance, wearing a light blue housedress with deep pockets. “That’s what I like to hear. Come on, baby girl, let’s eat this birthday dinner I made for you. Your favorite fried turkey wings with cabbage with brown sugar yams. And cheese biscuits, of course.”

  Magnolia rubbed her hands together. “That’s what I’m talking about.” She stood and walked barefoot over to her grandmother, and they walked slowly toward the long, narrow kitchen, holding hands.

  Gigi told Magnolia, “Just because we didn’t have enough precious times with your mother, doesn’t mean we can’t cherish the times we have with each other.”

  “Times with you are enough,” Magnolia said, while Gigi stood at the stove, removing the lid from a large cast-iron pot, grabbing a large spoon. A cell phone sounded near the sofa. Magnolia stepped to it. “I’m sorry, just one second, ma’am.”

  “No, it’s okay. You go ahead and get your phone. You never know who’s trying to reach you.”

  Gigi kept mumbling and Magnolia quickly reached inside her bag, checking the caller ID with a puzzled look and connecting the call. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Mag.”

  She sighed a large sigh. “Hey.”

  “How are you?” Neal asked with energy, as though extra glad to get Magnolia live for once.

  “I’m good.” Magnolia was bland.

  “You busy?”

  “I’m at Gigi’s house.”

  “Oh? How is she?”

  Magnolia watched her grandmother add her magic spices to the pot. She skipped right over his question. “Why’d you block your number?” she asked, trying to contain her voice.

  “Honestly, I knew you wouldn’t answer unless I did.”

  She gave a sarcastic nod. “You were right about that. We’re about to eat.”

  “Okay. I understand. Real quick. I just wanna know if you got my Happy New Year text at midnight, and the one this morning wishing you a Happy Birthday.”

  “Uh-huh.” She rubbed her forehead.

  “But you didn’t call back. Why?”

  Magnolia turned her back from the kitchen. “Because. It’s my birthday. And even if it wasn’t, I still wouldn’t.” She walked out of the family room and down the long hall leading to the bedrooms. The volume of her voice then kicked up a notch. “Why are you still calling me anyway? Besides, isn’t your girl gonna see this call on your bill?”

  He sounded puzzled. “Why would she see my phone bill? It’s not like that.”

  “Whatever.” Magnolia stood with her back against the hallway wall.

  “Mag, I don’t live with her.”

  “Live with her or not, what you need to do is stop contacting me. Try being faithful to someone for once in your life. And next time you call, I promise you, I won’t answer.”

  “Mag, why are you still mad after all this time?”

  She stepped toward the back bedroom. “Do not call me that. Stop acting like it means something just because you think I’m still mad. What happened between us wasn’t that long ago. You just need to stop doing this.” She paced back in the other direction. “It’s bad enough I have to see you during the week. Now please. Leave me alone. You need to live with the choice you made.”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe seeing you at work is making it harder for me? Maybe just a little bit harder for me to move on? I do care about you, Mag.”

  Magnolia shook off his words. “Well you shouldn’t. I’m fine.”

  “Okay. Is it safe to assume you’re not seeing anyone? I mean, do you have a date tonight for your birthday?”

  At that moment, Gigi yelled from the kitchen, “Baby girl, we can eat whenever you’re ready.”

  Magnolia said loud back, smiling while lowering the phone to her side. “Okay, thanks. I’ll be right there.” She frowned just that fast and spoke to Neal. “Listen, I’ve gotta go.”

  “No worries. Can we go to lunch next week? I really want us to get an understanding, and ahh, I guess, close the book once and for all. We just never discussed it face to face. With you being so mad, I sent the email, I was all messed up. All of what went down was so fucked up on my part. I just want to talk to you in person. Please.”

  She gave an oh please look and spoke fast. “I’ve gotta go. I’m hanging up.”

  “Mag.” He rushed his word.

  “Bye, Neal.” In a hurry she disconnected the call and walked back into the family room. She turned off her phone, placing it in her purse, and then went into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair.

  As soon as Magnolia sat, Gigi approached with two steam-seeping plates and set them down. Her eyes were curious. “Neal?”

  Magnolia looked surprised that her grandmother’s hearing was that good. She nodded and scooted her chair in. “Grandma, I apologize for that. That man keeps trying to stay in touch. It’s just his ego, that’s all.”

  Gigi took a seat across from Magnolia, pressed her eyeglasses closer to her face, and grabbed the hot sauce, shaking it heavily over her helping of cabbage. “He’s trying to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re still available, just in case it doesn’t work out with that woman. He is still with her, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t want to talk to him? Or does the fact that he’s calling do something for your ego, too?”

  “Oh, not even. Not in the least.”

  “Okay. Then change your telephone number, baby girl,” Gigi said, as if it should be easy.

  “Why should I? Besides, I see him at work every day anyway.”

  “Well then, get yourself a new job.”

  “Gigi, I’m not about to get out there and look for a new job in today’s market. I like my job. I was there first. Plus, I’ve got a retirement plan and benefits. Let him get a new job.” She unfolded her paper napkin and placed it on her lap.

  “Okay, then I guess you run the risk of hearing from and seeing him. Not much you can do, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders and then stood, walked to the cupboard, and took out two drinking glasses.

  “I’ll get the drinks,” Magnolia offered.

  “Oh no. I’ve got it. This is my kitchen. You know better. Lemonade, right?” she asked, opening the fridge.

  “Yes, thanks.” Magnolia surrendered. “I think once I get a new man in my life, I’ll let him pick up the phone when Neal calls. I bet he’ll stop then.”

  Gigi spoke as she poured the lemonade into the glasses along the counter, “I guess he would. Or it might make him try even harder. There’s nothing like an ex having a new love to make people act up. For now, if you really want him to stop calling, it’s up to you and you alone to be firm, and consistent.”

  “You’re right.”

  Gigi put the full glasses on the table and then sat, but left the pitcher of lemonade out, and the refrigerator open. “I’m almost seventy-three years old, baby girl. I’ve seen enough to know enough, as my momma used to say.”

  Magnolia stood and grabbed the pitcher, placing it in the fridge and closing it. “Yes, I suppose you have.”

  Gigi sa
id, “But there is one more thing I know.”

  “What’s that?” Magnolia asked, sitting back down.

  “You’re not over Neal yet. That’s unfinished business for the both of you.”

  Magnolia giggled and put a hot biscuit on her plate. “I think you’re about to ruin your record on this one then. Because I could care less about any man who cheats like he did, especially right under my nose with a co-worker. There are no second chances on that.”

  “Okay. You say so.”

  “I do know one thing. If I was anything like Mom, I guess I’d start seeing Neal behind his girlfriend’s back, wouldn’t I?”

  “I guess you would, huh? Though whichever road you take, one day you’ll find out what it’s like to be cherished. To be protected. To be valued. To feel safe. To be with a real man who gives and cares about your feelings before his own. I’ve told you about that before. But you must believe your happiness is just around the corner.”

  Magnolia’s eyes looked as if they only wished. “Your mouth to God’s ears.”

  They put their heads down and prayed, giving the sign of the cross, and began eating, talking the entire time.

  An hour later, after she convinced Gigi to let her help with the dishes, Magnolia went into the den and Gigi headed toward the back bathroom.

  On the way she yelled, “Just making sure you’re okay spending your birthday with your old grandma. If you have a date or something, I understand.”

  “No, Gigi. You are my date. And I love it.”

  “Okay now. We’ll dig into that cake later,” Gigi said as she closed the bathroom door.

  “Can’t wait.” At that very second, Magnolia hurried to take her BlackBerry from her purse, turned it back on, and scrolled through her speed dial numbers. One read, Neal’s Voicemail. But he’d already changed the code. Another read, Neal’s Facebook, but he’d changed that password, too. She switched to her phone’s browser application and logged into Neal’s account at Ocean Bank. She perused the listing of his recent transactions.

  Neal had paid for flowers from Beach Side Florists, made a purchase from Victoria’s Secret, and had been to a few restaurants., One in particular was their favorite, El Rancho Grande.