I sucked in some air and reached into my pocket and fished out my wallet. I snorted when I pulled out one of the pictures Joyce’s mama had taken of us on our wedding day and held it up to Betty Jean’s face. “She is a lot better-looking in person,” I claimed. I put the picture back in my wallet.
Betty Jean gave me a sympathetic look and shook her head. And then she looked me straight in the eye and asked, “How much longer do you plan on staying with a moose like that?”
My jaw dropped. I was shocked and disappointed to hear her low-rate another woman, especially one she knew I was in love with. There was nothing Joyce could do about her looks. But she was better-looking than some of the women I knew. And in other areas, she had more going for her than any of them—especially Betty Jean. “What’s wrong with you, girl? I told you from the get-go that I was never going to leave my wife. How long do you think her daddy and mama would let me work the store if I left her?” I reared back and gave her the most disgusted look I could come up with. “And what’s the point of bringing this up after all this time?”
Betty Jean stared ahead for a few seconds and hunched her shoulders. When she returned her attention to me, the expression on her face was so sad, I thought she was going to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m just jealous.”
“You ain’t got to be jealous of Joyce. She ain’t taking nothing away from you.”
“She ain’t got to take nothing away from me; she already got it: your last name.”
“There ain’t nothing I can do about that now. Shoot! I think I’m man enough for both of y’all, so what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, every woman would like to get married someday. When I was a little girl, I used to fantasize about the big church wedding I was going to have when I grew up. I never thought I’d spend my whole life being just a outside woman,” she mumbled. “And, I don’t know if I’m going to. . . .”
“Well, you can’t have it both ways. If I leave Joyce and move in with you, we’ll have to go on relief and let the government support us until I find a new job. And, you know I’ll never find another one making the kind of money I make now. On top of all that, the scandal would kill Joyce and shame you and the children. You want to deal with all that?”
“Naw, I guess I don’t.” Betty Jean put her arm around my shoulder and then she hauled off and kissed my jaw. “Them little devils must be asleep by now. Let’s go to bed.”
Tonight was the first time I felt really guilty about what I was doing to Joyce. But it was way too late for me to do anything about it now. I was swimming in shit up to my neck and I had to do everything I could to keep from drowning.
Chapter 31
Joyce
IT WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT AND I WAS STILL SITTING ON THE COUCH next to Yvonne. Aunt Mattie and most of the other guests had left. I had had two large drinks in the last hour and Yvonne had just poured me another one. I wasn’t worried about getting too drunk and having a hangover the next morning and I didn’t care if I did. I had plenty of ginger tea in the house and it was the best cure for a hangover. I didn’t feel like going home yet, because I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. I had heard some disturbing things tonight. Willie Frank was an ex-con, but he seemed like a nice enough person anyway. I just wasn’t sure that I wanted to be around him too often. But he was entertaining. He told funny jokes and when he got real drunk, he got his guitar out of his truck and sang and danced in his bare feet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come across a man who behaved like he didn’t have a care in the world. I was so pleased that I had finally reached that point myself. Except for me not being a mother yet, I didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been depressed, but Aunt Mattie’s story had put a damper on my peace of mind and pushed me closer to the doldrums than I wanted to be.
“I feel so sorry for Aunt Mattie,” I commented to Yvonne. “I had no idea she’d had such a miserable life. That was one hell of a story she told us tonight.” I shook my head and took a long drink. “I wouldn’t trade places with her for all the money in the world.”
“Me neither. I feel sorry for her too. But I got one hell of a story to tell myself. And it ain’t pretty.”
I widened my eyes and stared at Yvonne. I was surprised to see such an unhappy look on her face. Most of the pretty women I knew complained about breaking a fingernail, pimples, or gaining a few ounces. Some even had the nerve to complain about all the attention they got from men. I hadn’t met one yet that had anything serious to complain about. “Oh? I never would have guessed that you’d ever had more than a few bad times in your life.”
“Oh, I’m happy now. But I done dragged myself through a lot of gloomy days in my life.”
After Aunt Mattie’s depressing story, I didn’t want to ask Yvonne to share hers. I’d heard enough dreary stuff for one night. But since she’d already started in the direction, I decided to be still and listen to her. “Like what?” I asked.
“My mama and daddy died in a tractor accident when I was
