Family Thang

“No. You’re reading too much into what I said. I was being flip. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going inside. There’s soap and hot water in the bathroom. You stink!” He stepped inside, slamming the screen door in her face.

An hour later, his mother still asleep, Ruth Ann rumbling around in her old room, Leonard’s face remained hot, had actually heated up several degrees.

He’d tried to cool off and simply couldn’t. Of course he’d heard worse, had been called worse. Yet any comment on his sexuality by a family member, especially Ruth Ann, burned him to no end.

He tried to redirect his thoughts to something positive, but “Oh, really? How can you be so sure?” kept playing inside his head. He picked up a book, couldn’t complete the first paragraph, and tossed it aside.

He heard footsteps padding to the bathroom… running water. Perhaps she’ll slip and fall.

If she were a man he would have… He picked up the phone and called Robert Earl’s number.

“Hel…lo,” Robert Earl said, food in his mouth.

“Robert Earl, how do you get in touch with Shirley?”

When Ruth Ann, freshly showered, wearing a T-shirt, blue jeans and a pair of faded pink tennis shoes, stepped into the living room, Leonard had managed two pages of the book.

“A good read?” Ruth Ann asked.

“Nope,” not looking up.

“Momma still asleep?”

“Yup.”

“You want something to eat?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Nope.”

“Yes, you are.”

He didn’t reply.

“Maybe later you and I could go catch a movie or something. A Madea movie is playing at the Dollar Cinema. I heard it’s good. You wanna go?”

“Nope.” He could feel her eyes burning holes in the side of his head. She walked into the kitchen and he heard the refrigerator door open and close.

“Leonard, we could ride over to the mall in Greeneville. I’ll drive.”

“Nope.”

She came back into the living room. Leonard shot her a glance and saw she was eating ice cream from the carton. Germy. She plopped down beside him on the couch.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, Leonard, no problem.” She stuck a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and slurped loudly. To Leonard the noise had the same effect as a dentist’s drill. He rolled his eyes at her and scooted to the far end of the couch.

Ruth Ann slurped again. “Put the book down, Leonard, and let’s talk.”

He put the book closer to his face.

“Pleasure,” she said, reading the title. “I read it. Had me wondering if he had a yoni. You don’t talk to me, I’ll keep irritating you.”

He snapped the book closed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. It doesn’t matter to me. Your job in Chicago, your friends. Whatever, I’m all ears.”

“Let’s see…” He pinched his chin as if deep in thought. “What shall we talk about? Oh, I almost forgot. Shirley is on her way here.”

“What?”

“Shirley is on her way here.”

“You’re lying!” She moved the curtains and peered out the window. “I know you’re lying!”

“Afraid not.”

“The phone didn’t ring, not once! Unless it rang when I was in the shower.” She turned and gave him the coldest look he’d seen in a long time. “You called her, didn’t you?”

Leonard couldn’t help it, he smiled.

“Why, Leonard? Why? You wanna see Shirley hurt me?”

“Leonard?” Ida called from the bedroom.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Leonard said, “I need to check on my mother.”

“Go right ahead, I’m on my way out. If it’s not a problem, would you bring my stuff inside the house.” She opened the front door and then closed it.

“One thing before I go,” and reached behind her head and lifted her T-shirt. “See this,” pinching the tag. “A label. Hanes, I believe. A label, all it is. No more, no less. Yes, it can rub, annoy, aggravate—but what hurts more than overreacting to it? Leonard, I made a stupid remark and I’m sorry I did. Was it so painful, so debilitating, you want to see me get hurt?”

Leonard didn’t answer, a smug smile on his lips.

“A label, Leonard. If it ain’t you don’t even think about wearing it.”

She made her way into the kitchen, and then Leonard heard the back door open and slam shut.

Chapter 28

“My momma and daddy told me not to see you no more,” Linda Riley said, opening the door just enough to reveal her head. “My daddy said he’s gonna do something to you when he finds out who you are.”

Man, she’s hard to look at, Eric thought. Cockeyed, the left pupil way over yonder, as though she was trying to see behind her. Above her small, egg-shaped head sat an uneven afro, patches of scalp showing, as if she’d tried to cut her own hair but couldn’t quite figure where to start or stop.

Long hairs sprouted from her nose. Her bottom lip puffed out and over, revealing black gums and yellow teeth, rental space between each.

Eric said, “I thought you was a big girl. You always do what your momma and daddy tell you?”

“I am a big girl! Twenty-two December thirteenth,” and stuck her thumb into her mouth.

“Open the door if you a big girl,” staring at a patch of acne dotting her narrow forehead.

“Mumma staid I crant hab eenie crumprinee!”

“What? Take your thumb out your mouth when you talk.”

Linda plucked it out. “Momma said I can’t have any company.” She returned the thumb to her mouth, sucked on it contentedly, and took it out again. “My momma beat me with a broom when your wife walked me home and told her about us.”

“She ain’t my wife.”

Pointing her wet thumb at him: “The hell you say! Why you run off when she came in?”

Why am I talking to her? She didn’t have a lick of sense. What in the hell did he see in her in the first place? I had to have been drunk, had to have been.

He turned to leave. “Gotta go. Tell your daddy I said hi.”

Walking down the steps, he heard the door close and then open. “Come on!” she said. “Come on ’fore somebody sees you and calls my momma!”

He turned and saw what had attracted him to her. She had the most voluptuous body he’d ever seen outside of a Playboy magazine.

Underneath a hot-pink halter-top were two perfectly shaped, mouth-watering knockers, the tips pointed up without any means of support. The skin on her hourglass midriff was a shade lighter than her facial complexion.