Sweet Tea: A Novel (15 page)

We both turned around. He held a piece of paper in his hand and looked up at the house we were standing in front of.

“This is it. This is your great-grandma’s house.”

C
racks ran along the sidewalk toward the front steps of the gray stucco house - one of many that lined the block - close together with narrow alleyways in between. CeCe and I followed Westin up the steps. He knocked on the door with a fist bound in a rich leather glove. The cool air bit my face and hands now that I’d stopped walking. The fur kept my body warm, but I hadn’t brought a scarf. I couldn’t wait to get warm.

A black and white cat hopped onto the windowsill and peered through the curtains, but no one opened the door. He knocked again. We heard the noise of a creaking floor just inside the door. A peephole cover clicked opened and an old woman’s voice said, “Who’s there?”

“Ma’am, it’s Westin Barnes. We spoke on the phone last night. I’m a friend of Cassandra’s. I’m out here with her daughters. Your great-granddaughters.”

About five locks unlatched before the door finally opened, and a thin wrinkle-faced woman topped with a pile of hair with white roots bleeding into its hay color appeared. “My goodness, you’re Jimmy’s girls.” She patted my face, and then did the same to CeCe. “Come in.”

We walked tentatively into the gloomy house and took in our surroundings.

“Let me look at you.” She stepped back and viewed us from head to toe, shaking her head unintentionally. “You’re both beautiful. You remind me of your father,” she added, staring at me. “Carnegie, you’re the spitting image of Cassandra, but with Jimmy’s eyes.”

CeCe looked embarrassed. “Uuh, it’s CeCe. No one ever calls me . . . Carnegie.”

“Oh, dear, don’t be so disgusted. I suppose Cassandra felt that way too when my grandson suggested they name you after me. At first, we called you Carnie, just like me. After Olivia came along,” she nodded in my direction, “
she
named you CeCe.”

“Thank God,” CeCe said under her breath.

“You should thank me,” I whispered, then grinned.

In response to what we’d said, the woman shrugged. “What can I say? Having no brothers, my mother felt the need to pass down her family name. But if you’re happy with CeCe, then CeCe it is.” She smiled. “The two of you sound like your mother too. I always loved that sweet southern accent.”

She pointed to Westin. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you, Ma’am.”

“Aaah, a Southern gentleman,” she said. “We don’t get many of them around here.” She scratched her backside and her polka-dotted housedress moved up and down, giving us glimpses of the top of her knee-highs. I found this amusing and I noticed CeCe did too. After the long ride, I guess we needed to release a little tension and we were enjoying a moment of silliness. I was glad to finally catch CeCe away from her serious mood.

“How about you girls?” she said. “Would you like some hot chocolate?”

I covered my mouth to stifle my giggles and glanced over at CeCe, who said, “Yes, Ma’am.”

We followed her into the kitchen.

“Sit down. You must be exhausted.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Westin said. “But last night you said Cassandra was here. Where is she?”

She turned on the faucet and filled the teapot. “She took her friend Minta down the corner to get a bagel.” She turned off the water and placed the pot on the stove.

“Cassandra said she hasn’t had one in fifteen years. She said Minta
never
had one. Everybody needs to try a New York bagel, don’t you think?”

She’d said “New York bagel” as if it were equal to lobster and caviar. I thought it somewhat odd.

We listened while she made polite conversation as we sipped our hot chocolate, which was wonderful after being out in the chilly air. After we finished, she ushered us into the living room.

“Go ahead, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll just be a minute in here.”

The plastic-covered couch could only get so comfortable. I got up and eyed the place over. Pictures of people I assumed were my family members covered the tops of each cherry wood end table and filled the curio cabinet. Pictures of Daddy too when he was a young man. Everything looked antique, but in perfect condition. The room had an odor of beef stew and Ben Gay. I figured our great-grandmother must have been about eighty years old.

“Where is our grandma . . . and our grandpa?” CeCe asked Westin.

Westin rubbed his eyes like he was tired. “Your mama told me they passed away some time ago.” He yawned. “She said your grandma didn’t like her much. She didn’t want your daddy to marry her. That’s why he took her back to her hometown in Georgia. She’d only been here going to college. She told me after she married your father, your great-grandma was the only one who treated her well.”

I found it strange Westin knew more about my family history than CeCe or me, and I wondered why Great-Grandma hadn’t asked about Luke. Didn’t she know of him?

“Why did she come here – now - after all these years?” CeCe asked.

“Cassandra’s been babbling about the past a lot lately. I guess she figured your great-grandma would pass soon and felt the urge to see her. But I also think it’s about your uncle taking your brother with him to Florida. ”

Our great-grandma re-entered the living room and sat down in an old recliner. “Now that’s better,” she said. When she smiled, a full set of freshly bleached dentures that hadn’t been there before took about twenty years off her age. I could tell she felt much better about herself from that smile. I smiled back, and then asked, “Do you know we have a brother too?”

“Of course I know about Luke.” She slipped her hand inside the pocket of her housedress and pulled out a picture and handed it to me. Luke stood next to Uncle Bradley and Mickey Mouse. The smile on his face said it all.

“Bradley sent me this last week,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes. “He’s a handsome boy. What a shame Jimmy didn’t get to live to see him grow up.”

I cleared my throat. “Not to be rude, Ma’am, but . . . do you know why Mama came here?”

“Please, call me Grandma.” She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. Her hand felt like a silk glove. I wanted to caress it. “Your mother came to me because of Luke and Bradley.”

“What do you mean,” CeCe asked, looking confused.

“It seems as if your mother thinks my dear grandson and his bony wife Belinda don’t want to return Luke.”

CeCe gasped. “What!”

“Well, Bony Belinda can’t have any children of her own, probably because she doesn’t eat enough to feed the poor thing. I know I’m bony too, but I’ve always been that way. Belinda makes herself that way on purpose,” she added, and frowned. “Anyway, Bradley figured that even though Luke’s almost grown, he’s still family, and he could be like a father to the boy. But he didn’t intend to keep him for good - just another week.”

CeCe’s eyes bugged out. “No wonder Mama stopped taking her medicine. She thinks Uncle Bradley’s going to steal Luke.
They
sent her off the deep end this time.”

Great-Grandma gave a casual wave of one wrinkled hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll give him back. The problem is Luke doesn’t want to come back. As for your mother?” She sighed again. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but she went off the deep end ages ago.

“Y
ou mean Mama was quirky, even before Daddy died?” I asked.

“Cassandra’s always been ‘quirky,’ as you say.” Great-Grandma whispered this, as if Mama might walk in at any moment.

“Actually, your father met your Aunt Nadine first. The three of them attended the same college, but Jimmy didn’t know your mother in the beginning. She came out here a year after your Aunt Nadine did. Cassandra was very smart. But by the end of her first semester, college life became too stressful for her. I don’t know all that happened, but she began hearing things the professor denied ever saying. At first we believed her. But then it started happening with everyone.”

“You mean Mama’s had episodes before?”

She smiled at me. “Is that what you call them these days . . . episodes?”

The three of us didn’t answer, just nodded and waited anxiously for her to finish the story.

“Not long after that, your Aunt Nadine introduced Jimmy to your mother. Who told Nadine that your father said he liked her better. Your father swears he never said that. But he did say he thought it,” she chuckled. “Eventually, he dropped Nadine and went with your mother.”

“Nadine was angry, to say the least. Your grandma –my hardheaded daughter - was just as angry. She wanted Jimmy to marry Nadine. Your daddy said Nadine wasn’t the marrying kind. And that he wanted a family . . . and . . . how did he say it? Oh yes, he said he wanted a family and a simple woman. Well, he got a family, but your mother was anything but simple. I mean, she was in a certain sense, but Cassandra’s mind is very complex.”

I clenched my hands in my lap, but released them, realizing that Great-Grandma actually had approval in her voice when she said that.

“Jimmy’s parents stopped speaking to him once he married her,” Great-Grandma continued. “Your Uncle Bradley tried to break the two of them up on behalf of his parent’s wishes, but it didn’t work. Instead, the whole family fell apart. Cassandra didn’t return to college and the two of them eloped one night. Not long after, Carn . . . I mean, CeCe came along, and then you, Olivia.”

She pointed at me and smiled. “Jimmy went to college during the day and worked part-time nights hauling boxes into trucks, while your mama stayed in the apartment they rented with the two of you. When Jimmy finished college and realized his parents weren’t going to change their attitudes about your mother, he brought you all to Georgia.”

It was a lot to take in, so it was a few moments before I asked, “I can understand Aunt Nadine being mad at Mama. Mama took Daddy away from her. But . . . if Mama stole Daddy from Aunt Nadine, why doesn’t Mama like
her?
”

Great-Grandma rubbed her hands on her apron. “Well, I guess Cassandra was afraid— afraid Nadine would come back one day and charm your father away, like she did. Or maybe it was because of those quirks she has. She once told me she heard voices tell her to keep Jimmy away from Nadine.”

I jumped in and said, “Actually, we found out she’s not just quirky,” I said. “Mama has mental illness—it’s a disease you know—lots of people have it.

“It makes her paranoid. She also hears things no one else does. The doctor gives her medicine for it. Mama needs to take it every day. The doctor says if she has stressful situations, it can act up. But if she takes the medicine, it won’t be so bad. Only problem is . . . she stopped taking it.”

Great-Grandma shook her head. “I guess they didn’t have the medicine back then. But she had Jimmy, and he was all she needed.”

Just then, Mama and Minta walked through the front door.

“My, my, looks like a family reunion,” Mama said as she wiped a spot of what looked like cream cheese from the corner of her mouth. Minta stood next to her wearing a fur coat similar to the one Mama was wearing, but much older. “What are y’all doing here?”

I went right back to being speechless and I guess CeCe did too. Mama had disappeared without even leaving a note. And we came all the way to New York to find her, worried the whole time. And she was acting like we’d just gotten home from school!

Westin spoke first. “Cassandra, we were worried sick about you. You can’t just up and leave without telling anyone.”

CeCe threw her hands up. “Westin’s right, Mama. And New York? What were you thinking?”

“Minta never had a New York bagel before. I wanted to be the first to treat her to one.”

“A bagel!” I said sharply. “You left us alone with no word to bring Minta here for a
bagel?
You never wanted to take us here when
we
asked.” I felt my face begin to heat up and I knew I had to remain calm. But I was so angry.

“You haven’t been taking your medicine,” CeCe said. “If you had, you’d never do this to us. You have no idea what you put us through.” She folded her arms and turned away from Mama.

“That medicine makes me sick,” Mama blurted.

“How did you get here?” Westin asked.

Mama placed her hand upon her heart completely changing her tone. “Why, we took the train of course. You know I don’t like to fly, and old Cherry Bomb wouldn’t have made it past Atlanta.”

“It was grand.” Minta’s eyes beamed. “We had our own train car and they served us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even saw a movie!”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were going?” Westin asked Mama. “I would’ve helped you—”

“I don’t need any help.” Mama flicked her arm in the air. “I’m taking charge of my own life. I want y’all to leave me alone. I get Luke back and everything will be fine.”

“We’ll get Luke back,” Westin said. “Bradley and his wife don’t want to keep him. They just want to be a part of his life. They know he’s your boy.”

“They tricked me,” Mama said, and her lighthearted expression disappeared. “I had a feeling. An unsettling feeling in my gut. The same feeling I tell my girls not to ignore. Why did I ignore it?”

She began to cry, her mascara running down her face. Minta handed her a tissue from her purse and Mama dabbed at her eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” Minta said, rubbing Mama’s back.

In that instant I realized Mama really came to reach out for help. She
did
fear losing Luke, but her mind was so jumbled up she couldn’t keep everything inside it in order.

“Listen up!” Great-Grandma said. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right back. I’m going to make a phone call to Bradley.” She headed upstairs.

Trying not to be obvious, I walked back to the tiny foyer. CeCe followed. Both of us tried to hear the phone conversation from the bottom of the steps. We could see Minta strolling around the living room, checking out the pictures. Westin reached out and took Mama’s hand but she pulled away. It must have hurt him that she was acting so distant toward him. He’d done so much for us. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know what CeCe and I would’ve done to get Mama back.

Minta started yapping about the sights of New York and how she planned to come back again with her son. A few moments later, Great-Grandma toddled downstairs, her steps slow and careful even after she wasn’t on the stairs anymore. Somber-faced, she said, “Bradley will bring Luke back . . .just as soon as he finds him.”

Mama stopped her pacing ritual. “What do you mean,
find him
?” She said this in the same deep voice she’d used in Central State when she told CeCe and me to take her home. I’d hoped never to hear that tone again.

The edge of sanity suddenly seemed like home to me as well as it did Mama. I envisioned all my plans drifting away like a paper sailboat. Even the SAT test, which was next week, seemed only a faint hope now. I couldn’t think past the moment. Why did Luke
do
this?

Fighting tears, I thought,
maybe the way I’m feeling is how Aunt Nadine felt about Grandma and Grandpa
.
Maybe that’s why she went away to college and never went back to Georgia. Will CeCe do the same thing?

Mama started pacing again. She began speaking quietly at first, addressing the voices in her head. Then she became louder - they must have as well. “My face is burning,” she suddenly yelled, and ran to the kitchen. CeCe and I followed.

She opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk. With her hands shaking, in haste, she poured some into a glass, dipped her fingers into the milk and wiped her fingers over her face.

“What are you doing, Mama?” CeCe asked, watching in horror.

“The milk cools the fire. The vitamins heal the skin that covers the mind.” She repeated this several times.

“It’s happening again,” I whispered, miserable once more. CeCe only nodded.

When we spoke, Mama only seemed to hear pieces of what we said. I was frustrated. I didn’t know what to do but try to reason with her. CeCe didn’t seem to have a clue either. Once again I remembered what I’d learned about Mama’s illness.
You can’t reason with someone when they’re in a psychotic state, and the more you try, the more frustrated the both of you will become.

Back in the living room, I told Westin, “We need to get Mama to the hospital. She needs her medicine.”

“But she’ll never agree to go to the hospital,” CeCe interjected. “And she won’t take the medicine. It makes her feel bad.”

“Maybe the doctor will try a new medicine,” I said. “Remember what Mr. Shimmering said. We still have to get her there.”

An idea came to me. “You can do it again!”

“Do what?” CeCe asked.

“Put sleeping pills in her sweet tea.” I stared up wide-eyed at her. “When she falls asleep, we’ll put her in the car and take her to the hospital.”

Blank-faced for the first time, Westin didn’t say a word. No jokes, no answers. No suggestions of what we should do for Mama. Could she have pushed him too far? Was her baggage too heavy for him to continue to hold? Did he think we’d
all
fallen over the edge? I only had time for a quick prayer and I hoped with all my soul God would answer.

“I need to go out for a bit,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.” He looked at each of us with sadness in his eyes before he walked out the door.

Mama didn’t even notice he said goodbye. I feared he wasn’t coming back, and although she didn’t say a word, I knew CeCe feared the same thing. She had grown dependent on him just like I had on her. 

CeCe whispered in Great-Grandma’s ear and they headed into the kitchen. She turned on the water and filled the teapot. A few minutes later I heard ice crackling and the spoon stirring against the glass. CeCe handed a glass to Mama, who continued to stand in front of the open refrigerator looking oblivious and wiping her face with milk.

“Mama, put that down,” CeCe said. “I’m making you a glass of sweet tea.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” she said, like she’d never met CeCe before. She sat down on the plastic-covered chair in the living room.

CeCe went over to the sink and filled Great-Grandma’s teapot with water. I didn’t know if she would have the ingredients to make the “sweet tea,” but I also knew CeCe would do her best to improvise. I also knew CeCe had that bottle of Sominex in her pocket.

Once the tea cooled, CeCe brought the glass to Mama who took it from her hand. “It’s a little different than we make at home, Mama, but it’s still good.” Mama took small sips. Time moved like an old 45 record played at 33 speed. Finally she finished, and we waited. And waited.

At last her eyes became heavy. CeCe placed a pillow behind her head, and moments later, Mama was snoring softly.

I hugged my sister and leaned my head against hers. “You
are
the smart one.” 

*     *     *

I tried to think positive.
Maybe Westin didn’t scare off that easily.
But if he did, who could blame him? I wondered why this wealthy real-estate man cared so much about Mama. Perhaps the same Southern charm she used on Daddy worked on all men. Besides getting Mama well, it was all I could hope for.