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“I didn’t want to say I told you so, but there it is. I told you never to marry that man. He was just trying to marry up. And once he got you, he didn’t know what to do. And that’s why he was cheating with that woman. She’s probably trash just like him.”
“Everyone already knows what you think about him,” Aunt Luchie said. “That’s not what I want to know. I want to know what Kerry Ann thinks. What she’s going to do. Because this isn’t a simple matter to her. You may have thought whatever you wanted about that boy, but she loved him for the reasons she did and that’s her business. Not yours.”
I heard what Aunt Luchie was saying, but I was beginning to think that maybe my mother was right. Maybe Jamison was bad for me. Maybe I’d been fooled all these years and the real him was coming out now.
“How is it not my business?” my mother said. “She’s my child.”
“Yeah, and I’m my mother’s child and she pushed away the only man I’ve ever loved,” Aunt Luchie said with her eyes saddening. “No, I never married Red, but I loved him and I know he loved me. But you all pushed him away.”
“Pushed him away?” my mother asked.
“Yes, with you judging him and judging me. What kind of man would want to be around that? A family judging him and his woman for everything they do, everything they are? Red asked me so many times to leave here, to go with him to France, but I just had to be here in the South like I didn’t know any other place existed. Well, I lost him for it. For allowing other people to decide for me what I needed and now I have nothing.”
“Is that true, Aunt Luchie?” I asked. “That he wanted you to go with him to France?”
“Yes, baby. He asked me years before he ever met that other woman,” she said. “But I was too young, and still caught up in doing what my family said a woman like me was supposed to do. I turned him down. And then I had to watch him live my life with someone else. And that’s what I don’t want to happen to you.”
“Please,” my mother hissed.
“Look, Kerry, have you spoken to him?” Aunt Luchie asked.
“I don’t know what I’ll say.”
“Not knowing what to say never stopped two people who love each other from speaking.”
“Love?” my mother said.
“Yes, love,” Aunt Luchie said with a look that sobered my mother fast. Her “love” was hard and deliberate in a way that could only conjure, invisibly, the love my mother shared w
ith my father. But she dared not say it. Not his name. Not in my mother’s presence.
“You need to talk to him,” Aunt Luchie said, her eyes back on me. “You need to stop running to all these other people with your problems and talk to your husband. Find out what’s happening in your home.”
“He called,” Ms. Edith burst out. “Five times today. The boy was crying,” she added.
“Edith, don’t you have something do, somewhere in the house?” my mother asked. Ms. Edith got up from the table, taking with her the fruit that I supposed she’d cut for herself.
“Edith, can you hand an old lady the phone,” Aunt Luchie said. “I need to call the pharmacy, so I can pick up my pills today.”
“Yes,” Ms. Edith said, picking up the phone from the receiver and handing it to Aunt Luchie.
“Pills for what?” my mother asked. “I haven’t seen you sick a day in my life.”
“I’m ten years older than you . . . it isn’t any of your business what pills I have, Thirjane.” Aunt Luchie held the phone far from her face so she could see the buttons. “Look, Edith, could you do me a favor and dial the pharmacy for me? I can’t see a thing on this little phone.” She handed the phone to Ms. Edith and the two exchanged slow glances.
“Okay,” Ms Edith said.
“How does she know the number to your pharmacist?” my mother asked.
“Here you go, Ms. Luchie.” Ms. Edith handed my aunt the phone.
“Hello?” Aunt Luchie said. “Who is this, baby? I can’t hear you?” She scrunched up her face. “Look, hold on, I’m going to hand the phone to my niece, so she can give you the order. Hold on now.” She slid the phone from her face and pushed it across the table. “Talk to him,” she said, making it clear who was on the phone.
My mother and aunt were sitting on either side of me. I turned to see Ms. Edith standing behind me. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t reach for the phone.
“See,” my mother said, taking the phone, “she doesn’t want to talk to him.”
“Hand me the phone,” I said suddenly. “Give it to me.”
