God Still Don't Like Ugly. Mary Monroe

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СКАЧАТЬ too small. Then, she practically threw Lillimae’s change at her, ignoring her request to have the greens put in a separate bag. Instead, the rude cashier waved us through her line and snapped her fingers at the customer behind us and yelled, “Next!”

      I had to remember where I was, because I was tempted to say something. By the grace of God, I was able to restrain myself. But I still glared at the cashier. Somehow, Lillimae managed to remain pleasant, even telling the woman, “Have a nice day.”

      I was further annoyed when the manager put his hands on his hips and watched us until we went out the door.

      “I guess some things never change.” I sighed as Lillimae and I approached her car parked on the street directly in front of the vegetable stand. “I’ll never forget the way some white folks used to treat Muh’Dear and me when we lived down here.” I snorted so hard I had to rub my nose. I was surprised to see specks of blood on my fingers. Lillimae didn’t respond until she had tossed the bag with her vegetables onto the backseat.

      “I would have gone to another stand if I had known that woman worked here,” Lillimae hissed, gripping the sides of the steering wheel. The weather had cooled off considerably by now, but beads of sweat covered most of Lillimae’s face. She was red with rage. “I work my fingers to the bone at that damn post office so me and Daddy can eat good. This is one of the best stands in town and one of the closest. But them motherfuckers’ll never get another one of my hard-earned dollars. I don’t have to put up with that shit.”

      “I would not have been as nice to that old peckerwood witch as you were,” I snarled, looking back toward the vegetable stand.

      The same cashier who had behaved so rudely was now standing outside on the sidewalk in front of the vegetable stand under a streetlight, looking at us. For a moment, her eyes locked with mine. I blinked because I couldn’t believe the unbearably sad look on the woman’s face now. I gasped when she offered a faint smile before we drove off. I let out a deep sigh and turned back around.

      I saw no reason to share what I had just seen with Lillimae. As far as I was concerned, the woman was nobody. But what Lillimae said next made my eyes burn with tears.

      “Her name is Edith,” Lillimae told me, her voice cracking.

      “Who?” I asked, my eyes staring at the side of Lillimae’s head.

      “That old peckerwood witch that just waited on us.”

      I gasped. “You know her?”

      Lillimae nodded. “She’s my mama.”

      CHAPTER 7

      The first few hours of the first day of my visit with Daddy and Lillimae had already been difficult enough. Seeing Lillimae’s mother at that vegetable stand had made it even more difficult.

      Lillimae had prepared her absent sons’ small bedroom next to the kitchen for me to sleep in. I took a long bath in a huge, claw-foot bathtub, noticing that the Florida sun had already started drying out my skin. By the time I crawled out of the bathtub, slathered Vaseline Intensive Care lotion over most of my body, and returned to the living room, Lillimae and Daddy had disappeared to their bedrooms. I waited until I was sure they were asleep. Then I padded into the kitchen to use the telephone on the wall next to the refrigerator to call up Muh’Dear, my mother.

      Before I could dial Muh’Dear’s number, that greedy cat from next door started clawing and thumping on the kitchen door. He was meowing so loud, I let him in before he could disturb Lillimae. Since she seemed so fond of him, I knew she would come out to feed him again. Once the cat rolled across the floor, straight to the refrigerator, I took out a slice of raw bacon and tossed it to him. He dragged it to a corner and started gnawing. He was already halfway done with it by the time I finished dialing Muh’Dear’s number so I knew I had to talk fast.

      Muh’Dear must have had the telephone in the bed with her, because she answered before the first ring ended.

      “What your daddy got to say for hisself after all these years? I bet he done already told you enough lies to fill a hog trough,” Muh’Dear said hotly.

      Before Daddy’s desertion, Muh’Dear had talked about him like he was the king of some proud African tribe. She even used to call him Mr. Goode. Now when she referred to him it was always by his first name only, Frank. And she now talked about him like a dog. I felt tremendously sad knowing that Muh’Dear’s bitterness toward Daddy remained so strong after so many years. Despite Daddy’s departure and all of the obstacles we had encountered because of it, Muh’Dear and I still had a lot to be grateful for. We both had nice homes, jobs, decent friends, and our health. I had a man and he was a good man. Muh’Dear loved Jerome as much as I did. “As much trouble as men is, we still need ’em,” she had told me a few years ago.

      I didn’t agree with Muh’Dear’s old-school belief about women needing men. But the one man I felt I did need in my life was my daddy. A bloodline was one thing a person couldn’t change. It bothered me, knowing that part of my blood had run in so many different directions. I had a real daddy and siblings. I wanted to unite our blood while there was still time. The brief time that I had had Daddy in my life had meant a lot to me. Having him back meant even more. I knew that if I had never reunited with him, I would never feel like a whole person again.

      I didn’t appreciate Muh’Dear’s negative attitude, but she had every right to still be angry.

      “Annette, Frank brought you all the way to Florida to tell you more lies. Once you see what a snake he is, you’ll get him out of your system once and for all. I sure enough did.”

      “Daddy hasn’t told me any lies, Muh’Dear. He was glad to see me,” I replied, speaking low.

      The cat had finished the slice of bacon and had returned to sniff at the refrigerator once again. This time, I tossed him a huge pork chop, hoping it would keep him occupied until I completed my conversation with Muh’Dear.

      “Well, Frank’ll be lyin’ like a rug as soon as he tune up his lips. That no-good jackass. How he lookin’ these days? I bet he look like he been whupped with a ugly stick. When you act ugly, you get ugly sooner or later.”

      “He looks the same way he did the last time we saw him,” I lied. Without going into detail, I added, “He’s still one of the best-looking Black men in town.” I paused and sucked in my breath. “He still goes to that Baptist church on Greely Street that we used to go to when we lived down here. He’s an usher.”

      “That don’t mean nothin’, girl. The Church is full of devils,” Muh’ Dear snapped.

      I was exasperated. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep Muh’Dear from hearing my deep sigh. “Muh’Dear, let’s forget about what Daddy did to us. We can’t change the past.”

      “I know that. But Frank Goode is goin’ to rue the day he run off and left us the way he done. He goin’ to be sorry.”

      “He’s already told me he was sorry,” I said dryly, my fingers twisting the telephone cord.

      “Oh, he did? That’s a surprise.” Muh’Dear sucked her teeth and took her time continuing. “You called Jerome?”

      “Not yet. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

      “Well, you better. You ain’t never goin’ to find another man as good as him at your age. And СКАЧАТЬ