God Ain't Through Yet (23 page)

“A
nnette, this is Pee Wee. You know I don't like to talk to noanswerin' machine, and knowin' you, you probably standin' right next to it listenin' to me talk. So pick up!” Pee Wee paused for about ten seconds.

I was in the living room where the telephone with the answering machine sat on one of the end tables next to my couch. I rolled my eyes and just stared at it. You would have thought that I was looking at a rotten apple, because I didn't even want to touch it.

When I didn't turn off the answering machine and pick up the telephone, Pee Wee continued speaking. “I don't want to say what I'm goin' to say to a machine, but you don't give me no choice.” He paused again, and this time I heard ice cubes clinking against a glass so I knew that he was drinking. That made me really not want to pick up that telephone. It was hard enough trying to have a sensible conversation with him when he was sober. And now that I had so much red-hot anger practically cremating my peace of mind, the less I talked to him the better. At least until I cooled down to a sizzle.

“You listen here, woman!” He was yelling so loud his voice echoed. “I don't know who you've been talkin' to and who's been puttin' shit in your head, but you better straighten up and you'd better do it quick. I don't appreciate you sendin' a process server to the restaurant where I was havin' dinner with some friends this evenin'. Do you know how embarrassed I was? And if you think I'm goin' to make it easy for you to get a divorce, you got another think comin'. Shit!”

I could not believe that this was the same mild-mannered man I'd known for over thirty years. If a midlife crisis was responsible for the metamorphosis that had turned him into such a dick, there was no hope for the rest of the world.

I reached over to turn off the answering machine and take his call, but I was too slow. He had already slammed down the phone, and so abruptly and hard that it made me shudder.

I called him back immediately. He didn't answer. I hated talking to answering machines, too, but I did.

“Pee Wee, if you're there, please pick up the phone.” I gave him a full minute to do so, but he didn't.

I had other things to do, so I wasn't going to waste any more time on him. I had invited Jacob to dinner, and I wanted the evening to go well.

I had left work early so I could take my time shopping for all the things I needed for this special occasion. Jacob was a meat and potatoes man, so I wasn't going to insult him by serving pizza like he had suggested.

I had picked out one of the best-looking rump roasts that I'd seen since my size 24 days. That and a pot of collard greens, some baked potatoes, and a peach cobbler seemed like the perfect reunion feast for me and Jacob to get reacquainted over.

He had been to my house a few times since that night at the Red Rose, but he'd stayed for only a couple of hours each time. Other than a few lingering kisses, and his hands roaming over a few intimate locations on my body, we had not taken our relationship to the next level. And I had my work cut out for me. I started by telling him that he needed to do something about his bad breath. He was surprised to hear that he even had that problem. And he was even more surprised when I told him that he'd always had that problem. I couldn't believe that nobody had told him about it in all of these years—especially the women he kissed. He thanked me for telling him, and from that point on, he kept an ample supply of breath mints and other breath-freshening products in his pocket. And just to be on the safe side, I stocked my candy dishes with the same things for when he visited me.

Charlotte liked Jacob, especially since two of the times that he'd been to the house he'd brought gifts for her. When I told her that he was going to join us for dinner tonight, she got so excited you would have thought that he was her date. But only because she knew he'd be bringing her another gift. However, she had chosen to eat dinner and spend the night with the Turner kids across the street. She'd made that decision as soon as she found out I was planning to serve greens again for dinner. One reason my daughter, as well as most of the other kids in the neighborhood, liked to hang out at the Turner residence was because the Turners rarely cooked most of the foods on the average black child's hate list, like the collard greens and the rump roast that I had on the menu.

We rarely ate meals in my spacious dining room anymore. So since this was such a special occasion for me, I thought it would be nice to set the table with a new white linen tablecloth, candles, and a vase of fresh red and white roses. I had even purchased some maroon-colored place mats.

Jacob was due at six, so when I heard a car in the driveway, I assumed it was him. I glanced at my watch. It was only five thirty. Before I could make it to the window to peep out and see who it was, my kitchen door flew open.

Pee Wee stormed in looking like a mad man. “What the hell is this?” he screamed, waving some papers in my face.

I calmly took the papers and looked at the top page. “Hmmm. It looks like a notice that I'm divorcing you,” I said, tilting my head. I looked around the kitchen to make sure my rolling pin was handy. Since the day that I'd used it on Lizzie, I kept it on the counter close to the door. Pee Wee saw me looking at it, so he moved back a few steps. “What did you think the papers were?”

He snatched the papers out of my hand. “I can read! I know what it is!” he hollered, shaking the paper like he was trying to shake off the words on it.

“Well, if you know what it is, why are you asking me what it is?” I folded my arms defiantly. “What did you expect? Did you think I was going to wait around for you to serve me?”

“Who said I was goin' to serve you?” There was a wounded look on his face. You would have thought that I'd already slapped him upside the head.

“Why else would you be talking to a lawyer?”

“What are you talking about?” he shrieked, flapping his arms like he was about to take off flying. He gave me a wide-eyed look, and he stopped flapping his arms as his body froze. “Who told you I was talkin' to a lawyer?”

“If you really must know, it was good old Scary Mary. The lawyer that you talked with just happens to be one of her regular tricks!”

“Shit!” he barked, the word shooting out of his mouth like a bullet. “That old lady pimp needs to mind her own damn business. That damn woman has been a thorn in my side since the day I met her!”

“Well, she is like family to me, so she looks out for me. By the way, she told me about that night you tried to rent one of her rooms so you and your whore could lay up.”

“That's a damn lie. Lizzie had lost her house key, and her mama and stepdaddy were in Toledo. The motels didn't have any vacancies, and Lizzie didn't want to impose on you and spend the night on our couch.”

“So you took a woman to a
brothel
to try and get a room? What did you think Scary Mary would make of that?”

“That old battle-ax didn't give me a chance to tell her why I was tryin' to rent a room that night. I was goin' to get Lizzie situated, and then I was goin' to come on home like I was supposed to.”

“Yeah, right. So what were you talking to that lawyer about? Vietnam? Or was it some sporting event?”

Pee Wee's shoulders sagged. He stumbled as he made his way to the table, where he collapsed into a chair. “Annette, I was talkin' to that lawyer about a minor tax situation. I don't know what he told Scary Mary, but I know that old blabbermouth didn't say nothin' about me talkin' to him about a divorce. Now did she?”

“Well, no, she didn't. But under the circumstances, what else could she or I think?” I sat down across from him.

“I don't want a divorce,” he said. He was very emphatic about it. “I told you that back when you, uh, you know.”

“Yes, you told me you didn't want a divorce when you found out about me and Louis. But what do you want now?”

He covered his face with his hands and shook his head. When he looked at me again, he looked so confused I almost felt sorry for him. “I'm just tryin' to sort things out, that's all.” He rose and started walking toward the living room. I was close behind him. “Where's my daughter?” he asked, still walking.

“She's having dinner with the Turners,” I reported.

“I guess them greens done finally got to her. I got a feelin' that is what I smell right now.” He sniffed a few times and continued walking. He stopped when he got to the dining room doorway.

“That's right,” I said.

He looked at the table; then he turned and looked at me. I had on a hostess gown with a very low-cut neckline. “I—why are you dressed like
that
?”

“I'm expecting company for dinner this evening,” I explained, smoothing down the sides of my gown with both hands.

Then he whirled back around and looked at the lavish spread on the table. “Well, if the company you expectin' ain't Gandhi, it better be Nelson Mandela! I know goddamn well you didn't go to all this trouble for that cheesy-ass motherfucker I seen you slobberin' all over that night outside the Red Rose!”

“Y
es, I am expecting that…that particular man you just mentioned,” I answered, glaring at Pee Wee. Now that we were no longer in the kitchen, I couldn't grab that rolling pin if I needed to. But I wouldn't hesitate to grab one of the thick wooden chairs from the table to “defend” myself. “What's it to you?” I leaned over the table and straightened the two place mats.

“What's it to me? I'll tell you what it is to me. Jacob ain't the kind of person I want my daughter around.”

“That's too bad. I guess we still have at least one thing in common. Lizzie is not the kind of person I want my daughter around,” I retorted.

“Lizzie is a good woman,” he had the nerve to say.

“So you keep telling me. In that case, you'd better get on back home to her before she gets suspicious.”

“Lizzie ain't got no reason in the world to think I'm foolin' around with another woman.”

“I didn't either—or so I thought,” I said glumly. “Now, if you don't mind, I'd like for you to leave. My company is going to be here soon, and I am not in the mood to deal with a confrontation.”

“You told me a long time ago that Jacob Brewster wasn't your type. Do you remember tellin' me that?”

“Yes, I remember telling you that. What's your point?”

“So why him? Why of all the men in this town did you run after him?”

“Why not him?” I quipped. “And for the record, I didn't run after him. There isn't a man on this planet that irresistible to me.”

A disappointed look spread across his face. “Not even me?”

“Especially you!”

Pee Wee looked at the floor; then he looked at me again. His eyes looked like they'd seen the devil. Then they started twitching. For a second I thought that he was going to throw some kind of a fit. But all he did was give me a dismissive wave before he rushed out the door like his pants were on fire.

And not a minute too soon. As soon as he drove back out onto the street, Jacob pulled up in a shiny silver luxury car and parked it in front of my house. I didn't know much about cars. As a matter of fact, all I really knew was how to drive one. I didn't even know how to change my oil, and I could barely pump gas. I loved my little Mazda, but the way Jacob stood looking at his vehicle, and the way that he was brushing a spot on the hood with the sleeve of his shirt, I could tell that that car meant a lot to him. I didn't know what it was about men and their cars, and the way they worshipped them. It was one of the many things that irritated me, especially when it involved a middle-aged man. Rhoda's husband treated his Jeep like a mistress. He was in love with it. Pee Wee was the same kind of fool when it came to that damn red Firebird he drove. I will never forget the day that car entered our lives. When the dealer delivered it directly to our house, Pee Wee snatched the key out of the dealer's hand and kissed it.

Jacob stood back and stared at this car; then he got back in it. He didn't see me looking out the window, but I watched as he moved the car closer to the curb. When he got out this time, he wiped another spot on the other side of his hood.

“I didn't know you had two cars,” I said as soon as he made it inside. The other times he'd come to the house he'd driven a beat-up old rust-colored jalopy that I couldn't even identify. It had surprised me when I found out that it was an old Thunderbird.

“I use the T-bird most of the time. I only use the Lexus for special occasions, like tonight. I thought that after dinner, I'd take you to a movie or to that new bar out on Sawyer Road for a few late-night drinks,” he told me all in one breath. He handed me a bottle of Chianti as he removed his thin cotton jacket. Like Pee Wee, Jacob was no fashion icon. He wore a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a red tie.

“They must be paying you some long money down at that brickyard for you to be able to afford a brand-new Lexus,” I teased.

I hung his jacket on the rack by the door and led him to the living room. I had already placed a bottle of wine and two wineglasses on the coffee table in front of my couch.

As soon as his butt hit the couch, he slid out of his shoes. Then he promptly raised his arms, stretched his mouth open like a lion, and released a fierce yawn. Something told me that this man was about to make himself right at home. And that was the way I wanted it to be. If I was going to be spending time with him, the sooner we got better acquainted the better. I had no time to lose.

“Oh, I don't make much money over there. The brick business is not what it used to be. But I stay there because I got tired of changing jobs every two or three years.” He leaned slightly to the side so that his elbow rested on the arm of the couch.

“I am glad to see that you are still doing so well. Did you ever buy your own house? You used to talk about becoming a homeowner a lot back in the day.”

“Yes and no. When my mama passed, I got the house. She had already paid off the mortgage. That was enough of a blessing. But like the old folks say, ‘God is good.' And sure enough, He proved it. Come to find out, my mama had a two-hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy. Girl, when that insurance man contacted me and told me that I was the sole beneficiary, I had such a serious panic attack I quit the job I was working at the time on the spot!”

Jacob popped open the bottle of wine that he'd brought and poured himself a glass. I waited for him to pour some into my glass, but he didn't. That puzzled me, but it was not important enough for me to mention. I just hoped that he was having as much fun learning more about me as I was learning more about him. Our previous relationship had been so brief, I had only met his mother and a couple of his other older relatives. I didn't even know that he was a smoker until he fished a pack of Newports out of his shirt pocket.

“You got an ashtray?”

I scurried into the kitchen and returned with one of several ashtrays that I kept in a cabinet. I only brought them out when a smoking guest visited, or when Pee Wee lit up a joint.

“Like I was saying, my mama left me all that nice money. And since I was so overwhelmed, I needed to relax. I did that on a two-week cruise, visiting spots in the Caribbean that I'd always wanted to visit. I ate spit-roasted prime rib for breakfast! Had two cuties on my arms at all times. I got some sun, not that I need more sun with my black ass.” He paused and guffawed long and loud. “I was living like a king for those two weeks.” He gave me a misty-eyed look. “My mama sure was a thoughtful woman. She surprised the hell out of me!”

“Why? If you were her only child, who else would she make her insurance out to?”

“She's got a couple of greedy kinfolks who got a little upset when they found out she left me the house. They stopped speaking to me altogether when they found out about the insurance money, too. See, me and my mama didn't really get along that well. I didn't get to visit her that much in the last days and…and I feel kind of bad about that. But I can't change anything now!” Jacob slapped his thigh. “Anyway, I just went on that cruise and enjoyed myself. I'm the kind of man who enjoys and appreciates the good life.”

“A cruise,” I swooned. “That must have been nice.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded; then he sniffed and looked toward the dining room where the aroma of the lavish dinner that I'd prepared was coming from.

“Collard greens and rump roast. And I remembered how much you liked peach cobbler,” I said with glee.

“Is that right? Damn! I wish I hadn't eaten that super burrito before I left work. But don't worry, if I don't eat before I leave tonight, you can fix me a couple of plates to take home.”

Jacob and I had talked about my cooking dinner for him several times in the last couple of days. I couldn't understand why he had eaten a super burrito just before the dinner that I had spent so much time and money on. I let all of that slide. But something told me right then and there that if I continued to see Jacob, there would be a lot of other things for me to let slide, too. And I didn't like that.

When he whipped out a book of matches and scraped one across the top of my coffee table, I let that slide. But the more cigarettes he smoked, the more I frowned. I didn't have a problem with people smoking in my house. But I did have a problem when people ignored the ashtrays that I put in front of them and still shook a few ashes onto my carpet! That's what Jacob was doing now.

“If you don't mind, would you please make sure your ashes land in the ashtray, not on my carpet,” I said. “And please use the matchbook cover to strike your matches, not my coffee table.”

“Oh! I'm so sorry. I'm just so excited to be here with you, I can't keep my mind straight.” He had smoked only half of his fourth or fifth cigarette, but he mashed it out in the ashtray, then turned to me. “I'm going to make you a very happy woman, Annette. This time for sure. I shouldn't have let you get away from me that other time. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be sitting around depressed about that fool Pee Wee running out on you.”

“I'm not exactly depressed, Jacob.”

“The hell you're not. I know a depressed woman when I see one. Now give me some sugar.”

I hesitated, but I puckered up and kissed him. From that point on, all he was interested in was my body.