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Authors: Terry McMillan

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #Contemporary Women, #Family & Relationships, #Friendship, #streetlit3, #UFS2

Getting to Happy (39 page)

BOOK: Getting to Happy
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“Sometimes. But not all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s mean.”

“Is that because she tells you no sometimes?”

Diamond started shaking her head no, that’s not it at all.

“Because she hits hard. And lots of times.”

“Really. Does she hit you with her hand?”

“She hit Stone with Harry Potter one time and she hit me with some shoes. Those Nikes.”

Gloria gripped the steering wheel.

“What about Diamond?”

“She just always shaked her back and forth but one time Diamond hit her head on the bathroom sink when she shaked her too much.”

Gloria tried not to scream or swear and had to stop herself from speed-dialing her son. She didn’t want the kids to hear what she would’ve said to him even though she didn’t know what that would’ve been. “Why was your mommy shaking her?”

“Because she was trying to make her talk.”

“Does your daddy know your mommy did this to Diamond?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you ever tell him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Can we get a Happy Meal, Gawa, please?”

“Yes, you can have a Happy Meal,” Gloria said, trying her best not to let her granddaughters know tears were burning her cheeks.

She’d been thinking about doing this for a while, but hadn’t had the nerve. Or the courage. However, Gloria promised herself she would do it today. Whenever she needed a plumber or electrician or handyman—even the new gardeners—her wedding ring told them she did not live alone. It protected her. This was the reason she’d been relying on it for almost eight months. She was afraid to take it off. It would make more things final. She was no longer married. And she didn’t have a husband anymore. To Gloria, they meant two very different things.

Dottie had noticed it. Her friends were probably wondering when she was going to stop wearing it, too. They wouldn’t ask her, though. Not yet. Even that young girl at the casino assumed her husband was parking the car.

Gloria unbuckled the kids and, with both in tow, walked up to the door. She let them both press the buzzer. This was a reputable jeweler. Joseph had told her about it. After they were buzzed in, Gloria reminded the girls how to behave. A nice older Jewish man with a thick white mustache stood behind a glass case full of diamonds on top of diamonds. “Hello, my little darlings.” Blaze and Diamond appeared to be afraid of him. “It’s the mustache,” he said to Gloria. He then pulled both sides through his fingers, causing the tips to curl up.

The girls laughed at this.

“You look like Santa Claus but you’re not fat,” Blaze said.

“I hear that a lot. Would you girls like a peppermint or a chocolate kiss?” He held out a bowl of wrapped candies.

They looked up at Gloria for an okay. She nodded.

“Thank you,” Blaze said.

“Thank you,” Diamond said.

Gloria thought she must not have heard what she thought she’d heard. She looked hard at Diamond. “Can you say that again, sweetheart?”

“Thank you,” she repeated. Gloria’s mouth formed a circle, and even though she felt the air enter, she could not exhale. A moment later she bent down and gave her granddaughter a hug so strong it lifted Diamond high off the floor.

“She can say more than that,” Blaze said. “She just talks when she feels like it.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s talking, ma’am. Now, how may I help you today?” he asked a still-in-shock Gloria.

“I believe I’m interested in having my wedding rings turned into a pendant. Or something else nice. I was told you were the best jeweler in town for this.”

“Thank whoever said that for me. We certainly don’t like to disappoint. Let’s see what you’ve got there.”

She held out her left hand.

“Would you mind taking them off, ma’am?”

Would you mind taking them off?
It sounded like an echo. However, Gloria watched as two fingers on her right hand slid the diamond ring and wedding band off her left finger. She looked at that finger. The skin was two or three shades lighter than the rest. She hadn’t seen that finger bare in almost fifteen years. She handed the rings to the jeweler as if she didn’t trust him.

“Is your husband deceased?”

Gloria nodded and then said, “Yes, he is.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” The jeweler put a metal contraption around his head, turned on a pin light, pushed it behind a round magnifying glass and began inspecting the diamond. “I know this is difficult for you to do,” he said, “but it’s a very good way of keeping your loved one close while accepting that they’re also gone. Tell me if you see any settings in the cases that you might like.”

Gloria was looking. They were all pretty. She almost didn’t care which one. After a few minutes, she pointed. “I like that one.”

“Me, too,” Blaze said.

Diamond nodded.

“This is a very nice stone—almost a carat and a half, as I’m sure you’re aware. It looks like there’s a small chip on a corner there. I could have it repaired for you quite easily.”

“That would be fine.”

“I can repolish it and it’ll look like new. I could have it all done in about two weeks if that suits you.”

“I’m in no rush.”

“I’d be happy to fax you an estimate once I talk to my gem guy, and I can let you know later if this would be in your price range.”

“I’m sure it’s in my price range.”

“My prices are fair. Here’s your wedding band. Can’t do much with that.”

Gloria turned her palm up. He placed it in the center. It was already cold. She’d forgotten they weren’t attached. Hadn’t thought about that. And now she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with it. Maybe put it with other keepsakes. Maybe. She didn’t know. She slid it inside the zippered part of her purse. Outside the shop she snapped the kids into their car seats and got behind the wheel. As she drove, Gloria kept staring at her ringless finger. Her entire left hand felt naked. Cold. Despite how hard the sun was trying to warm it up.

As soon as they arrived at Oasis, the girls waved hello and dashed straight to the area where two empty pedicure chairs awaited them. They opened their bags and started eating those McNuggets and fries like they were about to disappear. One of the new hires—Ming Su—would paint flowers on their fingers and toes. Probably pink and blue ones.

Today was Old School Saturday, which was why Jackie Wilson’s “Baby Workout!” had just finished playing. After the first few bars, Gloria recognized Barbara Mason’s “Hello Stranger.” It was one of her favorite songs. “Hi, everybody.” Instead of the usual enthusiastic “Hey, Ms. Glo,” everybody just nodded and said hello with their eyes. Something was going on in here. Gloria felt two different kinds of vibes at work. There was a stillness in here she wasn’t used to. And despite the music, it was too quiet. No one was talking.

Sister Monroe was tapping her feet and rolling her eyes at Twyla, who looked like she might have a good forty-five minutes to go before she’d be finished doing a weave. This wasn’t it. Joline was talking on her cell phone with an ear piece, chewing gum and putting individual blond braids on a woman who was darker than an espresso. Nothing unusual about this.

There were quite a few regulars, some asleep, some under hot hooded dryers. Others were reading
Jet
and
Essence, Black Enterprise
and
People.
There was, however, one woman Gloria didn’t recognize. She reminded her of somebody. She was sitting on the sofa, clutching a tissue in each hand. It was obvious she’d been crying. Her wig was balled up in her lap. Inside out. A knitted skullcap sat tightly on her matted gray hair.

Joseph stopped cutting his male customer’s hair and gave him an “I’ll be right back” tap on the shoulder. He motioned Gloria with his finger and headed toward her office. He abruptly stopped, pivoted and pointed to a stack of photographs: “Don’t let anybody touch those until I come back, okay?”

“You let everybody else look at them, why not me?” Sister Monroe asked.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. I didn’t think you’d be interested.” He walked back and handed her the photos.

“Who are these cute little boys?”

“Those are me and my husband’s sons. We just adopted them.”

Gloria gave Joseph a great big hug then took some of the pictures from Sister Monroe. “You guys finally did it! I’m so happy for you, baby! We all know this was a long process. But now you’re proud parents! Congratulations, Joseph.”

“Wait a minute, now,” Sister Monroe said. “You mean to tell me they let faggots adopt little boys?”

Everybody in the salon stopped doing what they were doing and gave her the evil eye. It was Gloria who decided to handle this before Joseph could. She walked right over and stood so close, Sister Monroe could probably smell Gloria’s breath. “You know what, Sister Monroe? I’ve been tolerating you for years. But you’ve pushed the envelope this time. This is it. I would appreciate it if you would take your business elsewhere. We cannot nor do we want to do your hair anymore since you don’t seem to know what respect means or when you’re making a complete fool out of yourself, not to mention being rude as hell.”

“All I said was . . .”

Gloria turned to the patrons and her stylists. “Does anybody see any faggots in here?”

Every single person in there—including the woman who’d been crying—either shook their head no or came out and said, “Hell no!”

“For somebody who’s supposed to be so full of the holy spirit, you are one of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever met. Now please, go. I mean it. And read the sign on your way out,” Gloria said, putting her hands on her hips.

Sister Monroe didn’t say a word. She did exactly what she was told. Everybody, but no one more than Twyla, was tickled pink. She didn’t have to have that woman in her chair, telling her how to do her job.

Joseph gave Gloria a high five on the way to her office. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “And good riddance, Johnnie Lee. This was a long time coming.”

“Johnnie Lee my foot.”

“Anyway, you see the woman sitting on the sofa?”

“Yes.”

“She’s here without an appointment but somebody close to her has apparently passed on and she needed to get her hair done to go to the funeral. She said your friend Dottie recommended that she come see you.”

“Did she really?” Gloria said, looking out into the salon. The woman looked lost, like she needed more than her hair done.

“I’ll go talk to her. I just need a minute to make a quick call. Would you mind telling her I’ll be with her in a few minutes?”

“Of course I don’t mind. Oh. You just missed Savannah. She was in here at the crack of dawn and none other than Miss Blond Sleep-In herself was on time! Joline gave her some kind of new twists and added a little hair for body, and girlfriend is ready for what is apparently a hot blind date tomorrow, not to mention the fact that she’s on her way to Paris. She is too tough! I’ve got one more surprise for you.”

Gloria wanted to say she’d already had two that made her day. Her granddaughter had said two words. She didn’t know how or why and she wasn’t about to question it. And now Joseph and Javier were finally daddies. She didn’t feel like waiting for the third surprise. “Tell me what it is now, Joseph? Come on, baby. It’s been a long day.”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure I found us the perfect space! I e-mailed you about twenty pictures, plus the floor plan, which you will not believe. Check them out as soon as you get a chance. If you like what you see we can go take a look. Like tomorrow!” He held up his sons’ pictures and Gloria winked at him. She dialed Tarik’s cell phone. “Hey, Ma. How’s it going?”

“Tarik, when did Nickida go to jail? And for what?”

“Let me put it this way, Ma. She’s been busy in more ways than I ever imagined. Which explains a lot.”

“Could you get to the damn point, Tarik? I have a customer who’s not in the best shape and I can’t talk. The girls are getting their nails and toes polished. Wait a minute! I heard Diamond talk! Have you ever heard her speak?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Well, why couldn’t somebody tell me she could talk?”

“Because she doesn’t do it very often. What did she say?”

“Thank you. She said thank you. I almost had a heart attack when I heard her. Anyway, what did Nickida do and what does this all mean for you and the kids? That’s all I want to know.”

BOOK: Getting to Happy
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