God Don't Make No Mistakes (11 page)

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Authors: Mary Monroe

BOOK: God Don't Make No Mistakes
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CHAPTER 20
I
GAVE HARRIETTA A CURIOUS LOOK. “EXCUSE ME?”
“Not that I know if yours could screw worth a damn either!” she laughed. “But he sure
looks
like he can... .”
“For the record, he is the best lover I ever had,” I reported with a smug look on my face. It was true. Pee Wee was the best lover I'd ever had, and that was one of the reasons I missed him so much. “Uh, I've been meaning to invite you over for coffee or something so we could get better acquainted. Other than Margaret Bookman at the end of the block, you are the only other black woman on this street close to my age. But we'll have to get together at another time. I was just on my way out the door to go visit a friend who really needs to talk to me right now.” I rose and started to move toward the door.
Harrietta finally took the hint. She leaped up off my couch like a rabbit jumping out of a magician's hat. “Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to just barge up in here and get so comfortable,” she chirped, looking embarrassed. “Girl, I don't know what the hell is the matter with me! I don't know where my manners are!”
“That's all right,” I said, quickly glancing at the door and my watch again.
“You can come by anytime, and I already gave Lillimae my phone number for you or her to call me when you want to. And in case you didn't know, I provide child-care services. You ought to see how I decorated my patio for the kids,” Harrietta revealed.
I nodded. “The best friend that I'm about to go see, she has been running a day-care center in her home for several years now.”
“You mean Rhoda O'Toole? I know. I've run into her several times at the nail salon, at the mall, the Grab and Go, and Claudette's beauty shop. But please tell me this, if you don't mind, who does Rhoda's hair weave? I bet it's that white gay boy out on State Street. His work looks so natural.”
I gasped. “Rhoda does not wear a weave. That's her real hair,” I said proudly.
“Damn. She's hella lucky to have a head of hair like that. All that straight, shiny black hair looks like it belongs on an Indian woman. My grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee, but as you can see by all these naps on my head, having Indian blood didn't do me a bit of good.” Harrietta moaned as she tossed her head to the side, raking her fingers through her short, brittle curls. “That's why I own several wigs and hairpieces.”
“I usually wear my hair in braids,” I said, patting my two-week-old press and curl. “And by the way, for the record, my daddy has a lot of Indian blood too.”
Harrietta looked at my hair. A mild frown crossed her face. “Umph, umph, umph! Honey child, I can see that having Indian blood didn't do you any good either, huh?”
“I guess not. But Rhoda's grandmother was a white woman. That's where she gets her straight hair from.”
“So those great big green eyes of hers are probably natural, too, huh?”
I nodded.
“Black women who look like Rhoda usually think their shit don't stink.” Harrietta laughed.
I shook my head. “Rhoda's not conceited about her looks at all. She takes it all in stride. One night I waited for her to join me at the Red Rose for a drink. I was sitting alone at the bar. When she walked in, all of the men at the tables near the entrance clapped—blacks, whites, Hispanics, and even a few Asians. Rhoda didn't even realize that they were clapping for her until I told her.”
Harrietta shook her head. “If I walked into the same place naked, the men would probably
still
ignore me.” For a brief moment, she looked so sad I felt sorry for her. “I don't need a man anyway.”
I didn't know how to respond to Harrietta's last comment, so I took the conversation on a detour. “Uh, Rhoda loves taking care of those preschoolers,” I said.
“I like the itty-bitty ones too. They sleep a lot during the day. However, I prefer them to be at least eight, or older. Kids that age don't require as much attention as the toddlers. But since the money is so damn good, I'll take them at any age.”
“I'm glad to hear that, Harrietta. My daughter still needs to be supervised. So from time to time, I need somebody to keep an eye on her.”
“I'll tell you what, if you'll scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. I'll look after your daughter for free when you need it, if you'll keep an eye on mine for free when I need to take a break.”
“That's fine with me. Sounds like a good plan. But my parents are usually available. And as long as I have my sister from Florida with me, I don't think I'll need to bother you that often.”
I was disappointed, and becoming even more impatient by the second, when Harrietta sat back down. She crossed her legs again and unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. Then she suddenly gave me an anxious look. “I hope I don't sound too nosy, but is Lillimae your blood sister, or are y'all foster sisters, stepsisters, or play sisters?”
“We have the same biological father, but her mother was white.”
“Oh. I figured it was something like that, because y'all do look like blood relatives.”
“Harrietta, I really do have to leave right now,” I said in a firm voice. I rushed to the door and held it open. I was not giving her a choice; she had to leave
now.
“I hope you'll visit again soon when I have more time.” I liked this woman and I wanted to be friends with her, but a pushy new friend was one thing that I didn't need and was not going to tolerate this late in life. I had to nip this in the bud now. “As you can see, I was on my way out the door when you came.” I raised my hand and dangled my car keys.
A contrite look crossed Harrietta's face. “Girl, I'm so dense. I'm just so tickled to be living on Reed Street, I don't know what to do with myself. I was raised right. I sure enough hope you don't think I'm always this rude!”
“That's all right.” I opened the door wider.
“I need to get my ashy black ass on back home before my kids burn down the house.” Harrietta shot up off the couch like a rabbit again. She was very agile for a woman who weighed over two hundred pounds. “Are you going to take your daughter with you now?” she asked, as she approached the door. She stopped and glanced around the room, then toward the kitchen where Charlotte had fled to.
“Oh! Um, no, I don't want to,” I admitted. “I need to discuss a subject with Rhoda that is kind of sensitive. I don't want my daughter to hear any of it. You know how it is when kids hear something they shouldn't hear, and how they like to make a case out of it. My daughter has ears like a basset hound. And she loves to run off at the mouth about what she heard or saw some grown person do. I guess I'll have to take her with me anyway.”
“Oh, girl, you don't have to do that.” Harrietta grinned. “I got your back now,” she added, slapping a hand on her hip and rotating her neck. “You go on and visit with Rhoda. I'll take Charlotte back to my house with me. She'll be in good hands. I'll send her back home as soon as I see either you or your sister return.”
I sighed with relief. I didn't want Charlotte anywhere near Rhoda's house because I had no idea how things were going to go when I got back over there. “Are you sure you don't mind? I really do appreciate you offering to look after her for a little while.”
“Girl, if I minded, I wouldn't have offered.”
“Thank you so much! I owe you one.”
After I checked on Charlotte and told her that she had to stay with Harrietta, I had to spend a few moments arguing with her.
“I don't like that lady, Mama. She's not normal,” Charlotte complained. She stood in front of the refrigerator with the door open, nibbling on a cold chicken leg.
“Well, you'd better learn to like her, because you are going to be spending a lot more time at her house. Now get back out to that living room and thank that nice woman for offering to look after your rusty behind.”
Charlotte stomped back into the living room behind me, grumbling under her breath all the way.
I waited in my car until I saw Harrietta lead my daughter into her house, holding her by the hand.
CHAPTER 21
R
HODA DIDN'T LIVE THAT FAR FROM ME. I COULD HAVE MADE IT
to her house in a matter of minutes if I had taken my usual route. But I didn't. I don't know what I was thinking, but I drove two miles out of my way just so I could drive past Lizzie's apartment again.
There were so many “ifs” going through my head as I drove down one street after another.
If
I was going to continue working on getting back with Pee Wee, I needed to get used to the fact that Lizzie was going to be in our lives again.
If
it was going to bother me in the future as much as it did now, I needed to know so I could figure out how I was going to deal with it.
If
Pee Wee decided to resume his relationship with her, the sooner I knew that the better.
Lizzie lived in a predominately black and Hispanic area with Peabo in a huge red brick building on a street where I wouldn't walk a dog that I didn't like. The projects in Richland's low-rent district didn't look as shabby as this neighborhood. The apartment buildings, especially the one that Lizzie lived in, and the houses on both sides of the street all needed some serious maintenance work. I had never seen so much despair. There were dozens of windows covered with cardboard. There were broken-down old cars parked in the driveways and on the street. Young kids with dirty faces, snotty noses, and hair that looked like it had not been combed in weeks were roaming around like stray dogs. Used Pampers had been strewn around the ground like fertilizer. Males and females of all ages who occupied the corners looked like they wanted to cuss out the world. I always kept the windows on my car rolled up, but I made sure that all of the doors were locked too.
I couldn't figure out what had made Lizzie choose a lowlife creep like Peabo over a man like Pee Wee. Peabo was involved in a variety of criminal pastimes, even though he also had a respectable job driving the school bus for Richland's mentally handicapped kids. Another thing that I couldn't figure out was why he lived in such an undesirable neighborhood when he could easily afford something much better and safer. I answered my own question: Peabo lived in such a sorry neighborhood because the cops rarely bothered to patrol this part of town. It was a thug's paradise. People got robbed, shot at, cut up, beaten, and even killed over here on a regular basis.
I was happy to see that Pee Wee's car was gone from Lizzie's driveway.
I was glad when I made it back to my regular route and into Rhoda's neighborhood. As soon as I turned the corner onto her street, I saw her standing in her doorway with the front door standing wide open. This time I parked right in front of her house. She was so anxious to see me, she sprinted out to the car before I could even get out.
“I thought you'd never get here,” she started, leading me into the house with her arm around my shoulder.
“Harrietta Jameson, my new neighbor, held me up for a few minutes,” I explained. I looked around the living room, holding my breath. “Where's Jade?” I asked in a whisper.
Before Rhoda could answer my question, Jade slunk into the room. As soon as she saw me, she frowned. She wore a red see-through negligee, which seemed like an odd item of clothing for a woman who had just been “molested.” She didn't have on a bra, so I could see the perky breasts that she liked to show off every chance she got. I was pleased to see that she had on a pair of panties. They were not the practical, loose-fitting cotton type that you would expect to see on a woman experiencing a urinary tract infection. They were a thong, and because of the amount of flesh that I could see, they had to be at least two sizes too small.
“What are
you
doing here?” Jade hollered with a grimace on her face. She looked me up and down with her brows furrowed and her eyes blazing with hostility.
“Jade, Annette was here when ... when Bully ... you know. She might have heard somethin',” Rhoda offered, giving her daughter a warm look as she gently rubbed her arm. “I want to get to the bottom of this situation as soon as possible.” Jade looked like she had just smelled a rat. Her reaction must have puzzled Rhoda, because Rhoda let out a very loud gasp and moved a few feet away from Jade. Then she folded her arms and looked straight into Jade's eyes. “All right, baby?”
Jade's face froze. She looked as stiff as a telephone pole. “Huh? Heard something like what?” she asked through clenched teeth as she looked from me to Rhoda. The grimace on Jade's face had been replaced with a look of fear.
I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. I sucked in some air and gave Jade a defiant look. “I was in the hallway when you were in the kitchen with Bully,” I began. I turned to Rhoda. “I had left my car keys on your coffee table. I didn't knock when I came back into the house. I retrieved my keys, but I needed to use the bathroom before I left. I had to walk past the kitchen doorway... .”
It didn't take a mind reader to determine what Jade was thinking. “Shet up, you nosy old bitch!” she screamed, shaking a fist at me. “SHET UP, I SAID!”
There was a horrified look on Rhoda's face, but she remained composed. “No,
you
shet up,” Rhoda said, wagging a finger in Jade's direction. “Go on, Annette. Did you hear or see Bully attackin' my daughter? Did you see him in the kitchen with her?”
“Yes, I saw him in the kitchen with your daughter. No, I didn't see him attacking her.”
“I thought I told you to shet up!” Jade started to move in my direction, shaking her fist some more. I prayed that she didn't hit me. Even with Rhoda present, I would defend myself. When she spoke again, she did so with her mouth stretched open so wide, I could see the base of her tongue. “Pig face, don't you stand here and make me look bad!” Jade shouted at me.
Rhoda grabbed Jade's wrist and stopped her in her tracks. “Girl, I advise you to get a grip. Keep your lips still until I hear what Annette has to tell me.”
“But, Mama! Annette is crazy! She hates me! Please don't listen to her lies! She's always been jealous of me! She's been trying to ruin my life ever since I was a little girl!”
“If anybody was being attacked, it was Bully,” I insisted, surprised that I was able to speak in such a calm manner. “Rhoda, I don't want to get too graphic and repeat what Jade said—and did—to Bully. But she was all over that man like a cheap blanket.” Despite all of the pain that Jade had caused me, I didn't enjoy hurting her. But there were enough people in my life who were already in enough pain. It was not fair for me to stand by and let Jade get away with hurting Rhoda and Bully. I had no choice but to reveal what I had witnessed.
“Why you ... you ... big fat liar! You're a damn, fat-ass, middle-aged lying COW!” Jade hollered. Her eyes looked like they were going to explode. Her lips were quivering like she'd just been Tasered.
“Jade, I
know
you, and that means I know what a low-down, dirty little tramp you can be,” Rhoda said calmly, folding her arms. “You've ruined a lot of lives, but I won't help you continue to do so. Now, you tell me the truth. Did you or did you not come on to Bully?”
“NO! Do I look like the kind of woman who has to come on to a man like you two used-up old clucks?” Jade blinked hard and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Do you mean to tell me that Annette is lyin' on you to my face?” Rhoda asked, sarcasm dripping from her lips like sap.
“SHE IS! SHE IS LYING, MAMA! HONEST TO GOD,” Jade roared, tears sliding down her face like hot wax.
“Okay, if she's lyin', then please tell me why you think she's lyin' on you? What does she have to gain by tellin' such a bare-faced lie?” Rhoda asked. From the expression on her face, it looked like she was in as much emotional pain as Jade. And I could understand why. There was nothing worse than being in a situation in which a loved one was also the source of your pain. That was probably the only thing that Jade and Pee Wee had in common these days. They both managed to inflict unimaginable pain on the people who loved them the most.
“I DON'T KNOW! I—I—feel like I'm going to faint—aaarrrggghhh!” Jade's eyes rolled back in her head. And just as I expected, she stumbled around for a few seconds like a newborn colt; then she hit the floor with a thud.

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