Chapter 51.3: The Truth about Love and Marriage
Lula’s POV
I need to talk to Steph. I got decisions to make and I want to do this right. I’m never gonna do this again.
“Now, I like colors and you like colors too, Lula, so we need to start thinking about yo wedding colors. You give it any thought?”
Nope. I’ve obssessed over it and I spent the past two weeks admiring my ring and handling Tank. Daily. Nightly. In our apartment. Everywhere in our apartment. In the RangeMan apartment on the temporary dining room table. Bobby’s still blushing red but I’ll bet he’s learned to knock first.
I can feel Tank cringe next to me. Before I can say anything, Tank cuts in.
“No pink, Momma.” He looks at me. “I know, it’s your wedding, Lula Bear, but I don’t do pink or any shades of red.” I’m ready to go rhino when he lifts and kisses my wrist. “I was a Crip, baby, and even though I put that part of my life behind me, you still won’t catch me in red.”
I stare at Tank in amazement. You mean I can’t have my favorite color because of some gang shit? I look at Tank, in his eyes, and I realize that this is the only thing this man has said about our wedding so far. He’s ignored the wedding magazines I got everywhere in the apartment. He’s dutifully looked at each wedding dress photo I’ve shown him. He hasn’t given me a spending limit or told me that we can’t do this or that. Just no pink.
My shoulders slump. Fine. I can deal with that. I turn to Mrs. Carol Jean.
“I dunno. I mean. . .” I wanna say ‘I never expected to get your son to marry me and I figured if we did, it’d be at the courthouse. Wedding planning is beyond me.’
She grins. “You never thought you’d get Pierre nowhere near a preacher, huh?” I laugh. “OK, then let’s start with the basics. Date.”
I’m stumped, but I turn to Tank. He smiles. “April.”
“April?” Damn! That’s …I count quickly …nine months away!
“Ranger should be back by then. He’s the best man.”
“You can’t choose someone else?” I’m gettin’ nervous. Why is he putting it off that long?
Tank’s eyebrow rises. “If Steph was unavailable, would you just substitute her for someone else?”
Oh. Right. Ranger is his boy. No matter what, Batman gotta be there. “OK, April. No, May. Give him some time once he gets back.” Tank nods and kisses my cheek.
“Great! Now, church or no church?”
“No church,” Tank and I reply together. We look at each other and smile.
“Imma get you two back in the church if it kills me,” Mrs. Carol Jean grouses.
“I’d hate to bury you Momma. You and Lula gettin’ long so well,” Tank grins. She stands up and smacks him, then goes to the kitchen and returns with water for everyone. “We’ll make it back to the church when we get ready. Meantime, let’s find some place in Lafayette to hold the wedding, OK?”
“Fine, I’ll get to looking. Meantime, you sure you don’t want to scout some options up north? Lula baby, won’t that be hard on your family? Normally you have the wedding where the brides’ people is from.”
I swallow hard. “My family and I don’t speak. They won’t attend.”
Mrs. Carol Jean looks at me and shakes her head. “Po’ baby. Well, don’t worry. You getting plenty of family in this clan.”
I smile. She ain’t lying.
Tank and I went around and around on wedding colors until Mrs. Carol Jean said that we should each pick one. Tank picked black. She and I rolled our eyes but Tank, sneaky devil, pulled my wedding magazines and showed us some elegant photos with black as a theme. Black and white, black and blue, black and pink–there were plenty of classy examples. So we chose black and baby blue. After that, Tank didn’t have much else to say, but I’m keeping an eye on him. Clearly, he’s reading the magazines. He has opinions and he trots them out at the sneakiest times.
Me and Mrs. Carol Jean spend the next week driving around San Antonio looking for wedding stuff. Tank had to go back to work, so it was just me and her in the Escalade. She was thrilled.
“Baby, you have no idea how long and how hard I prayed that Pierre would find a good woman. I’m happy you in his life. Hold onto him. He quiet and he ain’t gon say much, but he’s a good man and a good son.” She grins at me. “Imma do my best to keep my nose out y’all marriage. I hated my mother-in-law for constantly sticking her nose in. I don’t want you to hate me after I prayed so hard for you.”
I laugh. “Mrs. Carol Jean, I don’t see how I could hate you so far. You’ve been a blessing to us.” I look over at her. “Plus, you can get Tank to talk. I can’t unless we in a bedroom.”
She hoots with laughter. “His daddy was the same way. Mean and onery but silent unless I was flat on my back. Then he had plenty of shit to say.” She shakes her head.
“What was he like?”
“Mean,” she says, smiling sadly. “I didn’t know what I was marrying. I was young, sixteen, and in love with an older man. He was 30.” I nod. “Next thing I know, I’m babyfull and working like a slave to support me and him. He drank.” She motions for me to turn at the light. “I had five children for that man and he never once told me he loved me. Just used me, ran around on me, and drank hisself to death.”
Sounds like Derrick. I was glad when he died. Meant I had to work the streets on my own, but at least I didn’t have him beating me all the time.
“You got the face of a woman who know what I’m talking ’bout.”
“Yeah.”
“You know he not like that.”
“I know.”
“But you scared anyway, right?” I nod. “Good. Means you ain’t take leave of all yo senses. You trying to make sure it won’t happen again. I don’t blame you. I nearly fell in to the same trap.”
“But that’s your son! You don’t think he’s a good man?”
Mrs. Carol Jean smiled. “‘Course I know he’s a good man. I’m talking ’bout you baby. I could praise my son to the skies, tell you he touched by God, make like the sun shines out his behind. But a woman like you, a woman like me, we got a past. We got history. We been hurt. We know better than to just trust the appearance of goodness.”
She right about that.
“So I’m proud that you takin’ yo’ time and really looking at what life with Pierre is ‘gon be like. I’m proud you lookin’ at Pierre and making sure he the right man for you.”
I look over in surprise and she nods. “I met a man right after Pierre went to the Army and thought I was in love. He was the opposite of Antoine, my husband. Pierre came back from basic, took one look at him and said, ‘Momma get rid of him. He the same.’ I didn’t hesitate. I put him out.”
“Just because Tank said to get rid of him?” I’m astonished.
She nods. “I’d realized by then that Pierre was an excellent judge of character. He saw this man was no good. I trusted my son’s judgment and he was right. I find out he was running around with another woman real quiet. My sisters-in-law knew but them bitches ain’t say shit.” I’m grinning, eyes wide. “Oh yeah, baby. They nearly let me fall into that same trap again. Them heifers didn’t want me to be happy. They wanted me to be under someone’s control. They still don’t believe Pierre is Antoine’s.”
I’m astonished. “Then why were they at that Sunday dinner?”
“To meet you, baby. Pierre is the wealthiest member of the family. They don’t know what he’s worth, but they know it must be substantial. For him to put his sisters through college, pay Antoine’s child support, and make it so I can retire and not need anything? Clearly my son got money and they want theirs, even though they treated him like shit for years.”
My jaw clenched. Tank got a family of leeches. No wonder his sisters are pissed we getting married. My marryin’ Tank is cutting off the gravy train for most of the family.
“Both yo’ husband and yo’ son named Antoine?”
She nods. “Uh huh. Since Pierre and his sisters never talk about they daddy, we call Antoine by his name. Antoine the only one who talk about his daddy so don’t worry ’bout being confused. Rarely we call Antoine ‘Junior’, but that’s like calling Pierre by his name in front of people who don’t already know it. You wanna see temper?” She snorts. “That boy has a plumb fit if you call him ‘Junior’. Makes Pierre’s anger look like minor irritation.”
Shit. I can’t even imagine that.
“In any case, they forever asking him for money and Pierre makes them beg for it on the rare occasion he agrees. His way of making them pay for every slight and sting I ever suffered. So I’m the head of the family, because they know that everything comes through me. If I’m mad at someone, they cut off. So they wanna see you to start developing a relationship with you to ask for money through you. A woman with control of her man’s parts is a powerful creature and it’s clear you got Pierre sprung.”
I park the car and laugh till I cry. That damn blank face musta been on vacation. The bridal boutique should open again in 10 minutes. The employees are on a lunch break, so we got time to sit and talk.
“That’s why you need to be careful of my daughters and my son. I love them all, but they got some aspects of they daddy and one is that they can be users. Antoine definitely is, and Pierre knows he’s enabled that but he loves his nephews. Wilma and Thelma ain’t so bad, but they live above they means and depend on Pierre for money to help them out.
Chenae is the one you gon’ have the most problems with. Tank’s been her daddy, since she was young when Antoine, my husband, died. She been living off her big brother for years and since she was the baby, Pierre supported her in almost everything. Now that she’s graduating and the gravy train will end with yo’ marriage, she’s not gon warm to you at all. She expected the same treatment Wilma and Thelma got. Chenae went into Social Work because it mattered to Pierre. Ms. Lucille meant a lot to him.”
“I wish I coulda met her.”
“She was a good woman. Became my friend too and I cried when she died. She saved my son. She saved my son and my son saved his sisters. Demanded that they respect themselves. Demanded they get educations.” Mrs. Carol Jean has tears in her eyes and we sit in the truck quietly. She looks over at me. “Girls pop up with babies in Carencro every day. Don’t know when the last time was I saw a girl finish high school without one. Pierre broke that cycle in our family. We proud of that. It’s why he paid for their educations. He wanted his sisters not to have my hard life and I agreed with him. Told them to listen to they big brother. He’d steer ’em right.”
“You did a good job too.”
Her smile is shaky. “Honey, I was too busy trying to keep a roof over our heads. I worked two and three jobs. When Pierre started sending his money from the military I didn’t know what to do. My son gave me a cushion so I could give up the third job, then the second. Once Wilma was out the house and it was just me, Thelma and Chenae, I started putting all his money in the bank. The lady at the bank told me to put it in some mutual funds, so Chenae did the research and helped me buy the funds. We picked a few duds, but mostly winners. Chenae got good at reading them investor reports and watching CNBC. We learned to buy stuff we know, stuff we use.”
She grins big. “Pierre was stunned when he came home and realized we’d invested his money safely and he had the money to buy his partnership in RangeMan. He figured he’d be the only one trying to get a loan. Instead, me and Chenae had scrimped and saved and invested to pay him back some of what he gave us.”
I’m looking for some Kleenex. The love in this family is just wonderful and it explains so much about Tank. Explains why his heart is so big and why he don’t pay attention to rumors. Explains why he’s willing to give. He gives and he gets it back with interest.
“So she expected that Pierre would be around to supplement her income for years to come. She never expected that he would get married right around the time she graduated, and now she realizes that she ain’t gon be able to support herself.”
“So she mad at me because she chose a field she know didn’t make money? Why didn’t she go into business? Sounds like she would have been a great business major.”
Mrs. Carol Jean nods. “I agree, but she wanted to honor Pierre and Ms. Lucille. She saw how Ms. Lucille helped Pierre, which turned our family around, and she wanted to make that kind of difference. Now, far as you, you now the most important woman in Pierre’s life. It was one thing to come second to Momma. It’s another to come third to some new woman and Momma.”
She shakes her head. “Now, it ain’t like Pierre ain’t told them that this might be a possibility someday. He been honest with them and told them that if he found a woman he felt comfortable being with, they would be cut off. But he been sayin’ that for a decade. They stopped believin’ it. Now you here and you clear that you love him and he clear that he loves you. They know Pierre keeps his word. They scared now.”
I shake my head. “All of this is so different from the Tank I know.” And it gives me an entirely different opinion of Chenae. She loves her big brother. He was her father.
Mrs. Carol Jean nods. “Honey, one thing I learned about men.” I look at her and she’s sober. “You ain’t gon really know ’em till you live with ’em. When you gotta make them adjustments and really be around each other all the time, that’s when yo’ love will be tested. You might wanna stay here for a few weeks and really live with Pierre for a while. He told me y’all didn’t live together in New Jersey. Take the time now and live with him. You’ll learn a lot.”
I swear, Mrs. Carol Jean ain’t never lied. Adjusting to living with Tank is a trial. On the one hand, he’s on me every night, at least twice a night and more on weekends. We run out of condoms weekly and I’ve started buying the 36 pack. He cooks and I clean and we sit in the apartment and have fun. I contact a local doctor to start getting the allergy shots every two weeks and Tank and I discuss what this will mean for our lives. In short, no carpet, leather furniture, and a HEPA filter in the apartment.
I ain’t happy about it. I hate leather furniture. If you a big bountiful woman, like me, you hate getting stuck on leather furniture. You sit on leather for 30 minutes and you hot. You move around and the sofa squeaks. Do it the wrong way and the sofa farts. I hate that and Tank’s doing a shit job of hiding how happy he is that leather furniture is a must. I also wasn’t looking forward to all the tile and wood flooring, but after Grace pointed out that Texas doesn’t get as cold at New Jersey, I accepted that. I hate stepping barefoot on cold floors.
The cats made a reappearance. I hate ’em but Tank loves ’em. Me and the cats (Mr. Fluffy, Josie, and Salem. Where he get those names?) had a mutual ignore thing going. At least we did until I noticed they needed more food and fresh water. Now they like to wind their way around my legs and I don’t need that when I’m trying to get dressed. I’m afraid Imma trip over one of ’em one morning and that’s gonna be the end of Tank’s cats.
Tank is much more romantic here than he was in New Jersey. I don’t know why, but on the weekends, he’s quick to suggest a movie or dinner or (he cringes) shopping. I grin every time and I shop while he stands around and makes suggestions. He doesn’t tell me what to buy, but he’s quick to tell me he likes a certain shirt or skirt. I realize I’ve been here a month and haven’t bought anything with Spandex the entire time.
“Do you like my Spandex?”
Tank raises an eyebrow. “Do you like your Spandex?”
“That ain’t what I asked, Tank.”
He grunts. “I’m never gonna tell you what to buy, Lula. You don’t comment on the all-black uniform, I won’t comment on the Spandex.”
Hmm … I buy some Spandex, for old time’s sake, but I pick up a few more wrap dresses. He likes those. He likes sliding his hands under the wrap and stroking my skin. Made for some interesting dinners.
On the downside, I hate his cooking. I see what Steph means by no fat, no calories, and no taste. I had it up to here with salad.
“Tank, it won’t kill us to have a bucket.”
Tank raises an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”
I hop into the Escalade and grab me a bucket with sides. KFC ain’t Cluck in a Bucket, but it’s not bad. Then Tank introduces me to Popeye’s. It’s a love affair at first bite.
“Do they have these in Jersey?”
Tank checks his phone. “One in Ewing, one on Nottingham in Trenton.”
I also have a hell of a time dragging Tank out of that apartment. On weekends he’ll go, but otherwise? It’s not happening. That was a major fight.
“Lula Bear, I’ve been at RangeMan setting up this branch for the past 15 hours,” Tank says, irritated. “I’m tired. I don’t want to see a movie. I don’t want to see a show. I wanna make love to you and go to sleep.”
“So even though I been cooped up in this apartment all day, you wanna come home, eat, fuck, and go to sleep? Am I calling that right?”
Tank’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just takes a shower and slips into his sweats. He sits on the couch and looks at me.
“Lula Bear,” he says quietly, “I’m busy as all hell. I come home and all I wanna do is be with you. I don’t need anything extra. You got my car so you can go anywhere in San Antonio you want. You could go shopping for things for the apartment if you want. You don’t have to stay here.”
My jaw clenches. He’s missing the point.
“Tank, I know that. But I’m used to being on the go. I’m bored. I’ve shopped till I dropped. I’ve eaten enough. I watched enough Maury that I know who the baby daddy is before he say anything. I need something new to do.”
Tank yawns and I see he really is tired. He opens his arms and I settle on his lap. “OK, then let’s talk about this? If you move out here, this is going to be your life, baby. You gotta learn how to fill it. So what you wanna do? You still wanna transfer to a school here? Hit the colleges and find a program you like. I’ll pay for it. You know I will. You could look for a job. You could work on the wedding and the apartment.” Tank leaned back and smiled.
“I done all that. I looked into transferring to the Alamo Colleges. I wrote back to my school and told them to send my transcripts here and I filled out the application to San Antonio College while I was there. I spent time with yo momma looking at places to hold the wedding in Louisiana. I’m waiting on Grace to come back with her ideas on this apartment.”
Tank rolls his eyes. Neither of us liked the first two sets of ideas.
“What would you be doing right now in New Jersey?”
Sigh. He got me. “Nothing. Working through a bucket.”
Tank snorts and kisses my temple. I’m waiting for him to say something when I realize he’s asleep.
I know I’m gonna have to figure something out with Tank’s family, so I start with Wilma. She the oldest sister and Tank says she’s the most reasonable. I drive to Louisiana and stay with Mrs. Carol Jean for a week and invite each of the sisters to hang with me so we get to know each other.
Tank filled me in on their likes and dislikes before I left, and he kissed my forehead and told me how happy he was that I was trying to get to know his family. No biggie. He close to ’em and he loves them. That’s gonna be our family when we get married, and I like Mrs. Carol Jean but I don’t want to be at war with all the sisters. I’m not sure what to do with Antoine yet. I don’t like him. At all.
Wilma is a pediatric ICU nurse, so we meet up for dinner between her shifts. She brings her pictures of the family and old pictures of Tank and I laugh at all of them.
“Honey, Pierre was the funny one as a kid. Antoine was a mess. You could count on him to get into trouble, but Pierre? Honey, me and Thelma and Chenae followed him everywhere. We loved him. He beat up the bullies and pushed us on the swings and played dollies with us. He won’t admit to the dolls though.”
I’m trying to imagine it and I’m laughing my ass off. I have a good time with Wilma, and she admits that she and Thelma were testing me that first day.
“I mean, like Momma said, you just kinda popped up outta nowhere. First we hear Pierre moving home, or at least to Texas. Then we hear he got a woman. Then Momma tells us that the woman is here to visit him and she wanna go meet her. Now! Me and David were confused.”
I’m smiling. “Why?”
“Cuz we didn’t know nothing about you. Momma ain’t said shit and Pierre?” She snorts. “Good luck. It’d be easier to rob Fort Knox. I told David to watch the kids for a day. I needed to check you out.” She looks at me and smiles. “I’m sorry we was so rude but . . . “
“Everything ya’ll heard made you wonder?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“How ya’ll find out about my past?”
“Chenae eavesdropped on Pierre when he was telling Momma about you. She went digging in the Trenton papers online and found articles about you.”
I lean back and nod. Aha! That girl knows her way around a computer.
Wilma snorts. “Good luck with Baby Shug.” She grins at me. “Pierre’s nickname for her. Baby Sugar.” I smile. How cute. “Pierre is her Daddy. She was two when Daddy died and Pierre stepped in. She was six when he went to Basic and you should have seen the way she cried. He raised her from two to six, then kept in touch and babied her when he came home. She sent him all her school awards and medals. Everything she did, he praised. She won the spelling bee, he sent her money and a card. She got into the gifted program and Pierre bought a computer so she could do her school work and research. He was overseas when she was named valedictorian, but the car arrived on time and with a big bow on it. All we had to do was threaten to tell Pierre she was actin’ up and she straightened up immediately.” She grinned evilly. “The few times she got into trouble, once Pierre was done telling her how disappointed he was, you wouldn’t believe the long faces she pulled. You displacing her. She’s not gonna like you for a while.”
Thelma’s first words were, “I’m sorry.”
I blink. “OK. . . “
She smiles. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you that first day, but I needed to know my big brother’s woman was made of strong stuff.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yo Momma told me that he’s an excellent judge of character. What made you think he wouldn’t choose a good woman?”
She looks at me with a saucy grin. “Honey, many a man has been brought to his knees by a good taste of the honey from the right woman.” I start laughing. “I watched you walk. Antoine muttered that you looked like the kinda woman that got something that snapped in her panties.”
I burst into laughter and she joins me.
“I never heard that saying.”
“Really?” She grins. “Common ’round here.”
We had a good time at dinner. Thelma is a teacher, high school history, and I sit back and listen to her tell me more stories about Tank and their childhood. She’s good at weaving the stories together. No one ever mentions their daddy. Finally, I bring up Antoine.
Thelma snorts. “If this family had a black sheep, Antoine is it. We don’t understand him at all. Antoine will sell yo’ ass out in a minute.” She looks at me hard. “Don’t meet with him by yo’self.”
“Why?”
Thelma shakes her head. “Because the story that will be told will go from a quick hello at Starbucks to you doing him and his buddies at the music studio.” My eyes widen and she nods. “Pierre will kill him. No joke, no exaggeration. He’s already told us that disrespect to you will not be allowed, so don’t put him in the position of beating his brother to a pulp. Stay away from Antoine until you and Pierre been married for a while.”
Antoine sounds like a true piece of shit.
“He got any good points?”
Thelma sits back and thinks about it. “Not any you can use. Not any worth putting your life with my brother at risk.”
I return to Mrs. Carol Jean’s after my dinner with Thelma and Chenae is there.
“Oh good, Lula, you back,” Mrs. Carol Jean says. “You hungry?”
I shake my head. “Me and Thelma had dinner. Had a good time.”
“Thelma and I had a good time at dinner,” I hear Chenae mutter under her breath.
I turn around and look at her. “Yes, Chenae, Thelma and I had a wonderful time at dinner. We enjoyed appetizers and delicious margaritas before the entrees arrived. Would you like to hear about the dessert selection?”
Chenae turns red and I nod. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking in standard English, but I assumed that, among my man’s people, I wouldn’t be judged for speaking in my normal manner. However, if that’s going to be a problem for you, I can certainly speak to you formally.”
Her jaw clenches and she doesn’t say anything. I sigh. “I would like to have dinner with you, when you can. I’m trying to get to know all of Tank’s family, starting with the sisters.” I grin. “I heard you’re ‘Baby Shug’. Tank’s told me about your academic successes. He’s so proud.”
Mrs. Carol Jean beams and Chenae has a small smile. “I do my best to make my brother proud. He’s done so much for me.”
“Well, he is proud. I told him I’d try to spend lots of time with you. He really wants his ‘Lula Bear’ and ‘Baby Shug’ to get along. So, do I have a dinner date or not?”
She nods. “Tomorrow? In Houston? I’m trying to decide if I want to stay at Tulane or transfer to a graduate program at Rice. Plus, that’s on the way back to San Antonio for you, if you want to get back to Pierre. There’s a Cheesecake Factory on the highway.”
I smile. “Sounds good. 1 p.m.?” She nods. “So, tell me about your major.”
She smiles and sits, crossing her legs. Mrs. Carol Jean is beaming. I go to the kitchen and pour three glasses of lemonade and return to the living room.
“Well, I got into Social Work because of Pierre. Has he mentioned Lucille Graves?”
“Yes,” I reply, smiling. “I’m sorry I’ll never meet her.”
“Yes, she was an extraordinary woman. I met her shortly before her death. I couldn’t understand why Pierre was dragging me along to meet this old woman, especially since she had that old lady smell.” She wrinkles her nose and Mrs. Carol Jean and I laugh. She grins. “But he insisted that he needed to go see her. It was after Basic. I was expecting to spend my whole day with my big brother. I had a plan and he was messing with it.”
I laugh. “Now that’s the man I know. You gotta plan, he has a detour. ‘Won’t take but a moment, Lula Bear’.” I mimic Tank’s voice and both women hoot. The air conditioning kicks on and I sit back, grateful. Louisiana is hotter than hell in summer.
We stayed up late talking. I like Chenae and I like her major. It’s all about helping people, putting them in touch with the stuff they need to better their lives. I like what she’s trying to do and I start wondering if Alamo got something like that. She’s not sure exactly which direction she wants to take in social work, which is why she wants to go get a master’s degree. Plus, the master’s will allow her to make more money.
“I mean, social workers work themselves to the bone for damn near no money. I’ll be lucky to find something making $30,000 once I graduate. And those jobs require master’s degrees. I’m not interested. I need more money than that.” Chenae sniffs and examines her fingernails and I’m stunned by her salary expectations.
I’ve been working as a file clerk (and sometimes bounty hunter) and barely making over minimum wage. I keep my expenses low. I got a cheap apartment, I don’t have cable, I barely run my A/C, and I have one TV and a DVD player. My entertainment comes from the DVDs I can get from the library. My luxury is clothes. Everybody gotta vice and that’s mine. I make the sacrifices necessary to allow me to dress the way I wanna.
“Well, what about the work? Do you want to work with kids? Teens? Juvenile delinquents?” I look at Mrs. Carol Jean and grin. “You might find the next Tank.”
Mrs. Carol Jean and I laugh, but Chenae merely smiles as if she can’t believe how stupid I am.
“I can’t see Pierre allowing me to work with juveniles. My brother is a prince among men. Those kids? I’ve seen them. They’re animals.”
I know my jaw drops a bit. Wow. Mrs. Carol Jean looks at me and shakes her head.
“OK, well, the elderly?”
“They stink. And they complain. About everything.”
“Kids?”
“Not interested. They’re always sticky. And loud.”
Well damn! “Umm …teen moms?”
She barks a laugh. “No thank you. Keep your legs closed and take your birth control. Quit allowing just any man to fuck you and leave you with the kids. Insist on the damn condoms and take him to court for child support.”
Mrs. Carol Jean is stony faced. Chenae looks over at her mother and cringes. “Sorry Momma.”
I’m flabbergasted. This girl has no interest in helping anyone who might need help. Why in the hell did she go into Social Work?
“I’m sorry you think I created my own problems, Chenae,” Mrs. Carol Jean says frostily. I get up and pick up the lemonade glasses. I can see that mother-daughter talk is about to get awkward. I step out but Mrs. Carol Jean’s voice carries.
“I’m sorry I got married at 16 and started having babies for an abusive drunk. I’m so glad there was someone willing to help me. Oh! Wait! There wasn’t someone willing to help me. I was a married woman with a job so I guess my kids and I didn’t need anything. And clearly your father provided everything you needed while you were growing up . . . oh wait! He died. Drank hisself to death. That’s right. Glad there was a social worker willing to help me.”
It’s silent in the living room. It’s 10 p.m. and I’m trying to think of some way to remain in the kitchen and not intrude. Nothing. Shit. I walk back in with the lemonade. Mrs. Carol Jean looks over at me.
“Baby I already told you all this so you didn’t have to leave the room.” She turns back to her daughter. Chenae is red. “If you plan to make that your career, you need to find a group that you can lower yourself to work with.” Chenae’s jaw is tight and her nostrils flare. I can tell she’s trying not to cry. “After all, Pierre was willing to pay for any degree. You got one year left and you chose this field. You better get a game plan soon.”
It’s silent. I’m trying to think of some way to cut the tension. “Well, do you still have your intro books?” Chenae nods and I smile. “I’d like to borrow them, if you don’t mind. I like your major. It’s all about helping people, putting them in touch with what they need. Sounds like my kinda thing. I’m always the one telling my friends the truth, trying to make them see sense.” Mrs. Carol Jean laughs and Chenae has a small smile.
“I can see me working with women like me. The ones who just escaped abusive relationships or homes.” Mrs. Carol Jean is nodding in approval. “That’s right up my alley. I got a life story them women can relate to. Make it easier for them to trust me. I can help, with the right training.” I smile at Chenae and raise my lemonade glass in salute. “Looks like you’ve helped someone tonight. I was having a hard time trying to think of a major but yours sounds right for me. I get to help people.”
