Love Me Tender (11 page)

Chapter 20

“ONE EAR,” I told Kerrie as we walked back to the hardware store. My whole head on that side felt heavy, real heavy. “I just got one ear pierced.”

“Oh, very cool,” she said, sounding like she was the big sister and I was the dumb kid. I wanted to hate her, I really did. I just didn't have the strength for it. I decided never to speak to her again in my whole life. At least not until I was as old as Mel.

Right before we went back into the hardware store, Kerrie tapped me on the arm. “They look really good,” she said. “It will turn out to be worth it.”

“You're sure?” I was really glad she reminded me of that. I couldn't help wanting to hear it again.

“Absolutely.”

Pandora had told me to keep my hair away from my ear to reduce the chance of infection. But now I was more concerned about living through the day. I smoothed my hair over my ear before we went back to the paint aisle.

Mel zeroed right in on the misery on my face. “Are you feeling all right, Elvira?”

“Headache.”

“She took an aspirin,” Kerrie said. “What color white did you buy?”

“Almond,” Mel said.

“Sounds better than drowned earthworms,” Kerrie said.

“Is that why you're holding your head to one side?” the grandmother asked. “Because you have a headache?”

I straightened up, afraid the earrings would show. It occurred to me now, too late, that I'd rather Mel didn't kill me in front of the grandmother.

“I'm going to go sit in the car, okay?”

Mel handed me the keys. “But don't leave the car running. Open the windows. We won't be long, I promise.”

“I'm going to go with her,” Kerrie said. “I can look after her.”

“Good idea, sweetie,” Mel said.

“I hope I'm not going to be sorry about this,” I said once we were outside.

“You will be,” Kerrie said. “But not forever.”

“Thanks for the thought.”

We had just about eased onto the hot car seats when they came out of the store. The grandmother was quizzing Mel on her welding skills as they got into the car, which kept Mel's mind off me.

Maybe she didn't even notice the Elvis impersonator as we drove by. He had the hair and a certain posture that I recognized. Even though he was only sitting on his front steps, tuning his guitar. Mel didn't act like she spotted him, but then Kerrie didn't say a word either, just glanced over to be sure I hadn't missed him.

We took the long way back so the grandmother could stop in at a farm stand for tomatoes. I said I'd wait in the car, and Kerrie didn't get out either.

“You want to rest your head in my lap?” she asked. “The way you did for me that time I had stitches in my knee and the novocaine wore off and it still hurt?”

“Never in a million years,” I said.

But that was how I made the rest of the trip. Kerrie patted me on the shoulder steadily. There have been rare few times for Kerrie to feel called upon to think of anyone but herself, but she was showing a talent for it. I didn't even want to hate her.

“I think you ought to go take a nap,” Mel said as we got out of the car. “You must be coming down with something.”

She reached out to smooth my hair, that thing she does when she wants us to feel better. I didn't see it coming. Her hand brushed my ear and I pulled away with a yelp.

“What have you done?” she cried, suspicious now and all sympathy gone. I pulled my hair back for her to see. She would have to know sometime.

“Omilord,” Mel cried, falling back against the grandmother. “She's maimed for life.”

“Let's get inside if we're going to have a family fight,” the grandmother said, leading us away from her car. “My neighbors are elderly. They can't take the stimulation.”

Mel ignored this. “Where were you while this was going on?” she asked Kerrie, as if she ought to be held responsible.

Before Kerrie could reply, Mel turned on me to say, “You left her somewhere, didn't you? Or you dragged her into one of those filthy tattoo parlors. Which is it?”

One had to be worse than the other, but I was hurting too much to know what my answer should be.

“I was perfectly safe,” Kerrie said. “I waited at the news-stand with a nice older couple.”

“What nice couple would that be?” Mel asked snappishly as she steered me up to the porch. “Who do you two know in Memphis?”

“They owned the store,” Kerrie said in the too-grown-up way that could drive me crazy, but seeing it used against Mel, I loved it. “They have five grandchildren. They sell books and magazines and candy and aspirin.”

Inside, Mel hurried me into the bathroom behind the kitchen. Kerrie and the grandmother trotted along behind. Mel kept up a steady patter of threat and accusation. But once we faced each other, she switched to the Mel I used to know and love. “You're so swollen,” she said worriedly. “Does your ear feel hot?”

“He said I should put ice on it.”

“He who? Who did this to you?” Mel wanted to know as she wet a washcloth in cold water.

“Somebody named Pandora.”

“That can't be true,” the grandmother said. “You said it was a man.”

“She never lies,” Mel said. “She just twists the truth into a pretzel.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Mel set the chilled washcloth gently against my ear. It hurt, but it helped more. She said, “I think we could put some chipped ice in the fold of the washcloth.”

“Let's do that,” the grandmother said, and snatched another washcloth off the shelf before she left the bathroom.

“I'll help with the ice,” Kerrie said, hot on the grandmother's heels.

“How could you do this?” Mel said. “Why did you have to do this now, of all times?”

“I don't know,” I said. “I just wanted to be different somehow. I didn't really think about it a lot.”

“Famous last words,” Mel said.

“I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

“I think you might have.” She sounded resigned to the idea.

I heard the crackle of ice being freed from the tray. I had only a minute to get this over with. “I might have been doing it to embarrass Daddy.”

Mel laughed.

“What's funny about that?”

“You,” she said, “trying to embarrass your father, the Elvis impersonator.” She shrugged. “Well, who knows? You might have hit a bull's-eye. He's a pretty conservative guy where you girls are concerned.”

We heard Aunt Clare call, “Yoooo-hoo,” before the back door was opened. “What are you all up to in there?” Aunt Clare asked, seeing us in the bathroom.

Mel said, “Elvira has had her ears pierced.”

“Ooh, what fun,” Aunt Clare said. “Let me see.”

I pulled the washcloth away. “Just the one. Three times.”

“It looks awful sore, but it's going to be real nice,” Aunt Clare said. “Those little gold hoops are so pretty. Have you taken any cough medicine?”

Mel and I both looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

“To help the child sleep,” Aunt Clare said, like she was talking to idiots. “When I had my ears done, I came home and took a sleeping pill. When I woke up, the worst was over.”

“She's not taking anything to make her sleep,” Mel said, sounding grim. “She can have aspirin, but otherwise she's going to suffer through it all.”

The grandmother came back with the ice, offering lunch. “We should have stopped off at the grocery so we'd have something we could actually cook.”

“It's too hot for that, Momma,” Mel said. “It's too hot even to fry an egg.”

“We've got ham and cheese for sandwiches. Mustard or mayo, what's your preference?” she asked while I switched to the washcloth with ice. It was shockingly cold, or maybe my ear was that hot, but I had to just touch the ear and lift the washcloth away.

Plus, my arm had started to get tired, like when I was braiding my hair. I put the ice against my forehead for a few seconds, and that helped a little.

“Is it yellow cheese or white?” This was Kerrie, who had apparently not been consulted while in the kitchen. “Yellow food dye isn't good for you.”

“We could go out for lunch,” Aunt Clare said.

“Yay,” Kerrie said.

The grandmother shook her head. “We've been out. This is what came of it. Although I did get a new iron, so it isn't all a lost cause.”

I wanted to point out that I was not a lost cause.

But an upset look passed over Aunt Clare's face. “I hope it has automatic shutoff,” she said. There was a feeling around her of wanting to say a lot more.

“It has automatic shutoff,” I said, hoping Aunt Clare did too.

Everybody trooped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. I sat at the table, where I could rest my arm while I froze my ear. Aunt Clare threw up her hands at the idea of soldering weights to the iron.

“I'm going to go put on a housedress,” the grandmother said. “I don't want to dirty this one up in the kitchen.” She had no sooner shut the door to her bedroom than Aunt Clare whispered, “I wish you hadn't bought her that iron. It only encourages her.”

“In what?”

“In the belief that these fires don't change things.”

“I don't know why you think Momma's going to listen to me,” Mel said in a voice just above a whisper. “You were always so much closer to her. She took you on shopping trips; the two of you went to the beauty parlor.”

“I know,” Aunt Clare said. “I think that's the problem I'm having. You've been gone so long, she's romanticized you. Built you into the daughter you never were.”

I couldn't tell if Mel had just been insulted or not. From the look on her face, I guessed she wasn't sure either. She sat down in the chair across from me, saying, “Look, Clare, all I meant was—”

“I know what you meant. When we were girls, I was Momma's favorite and you were Daddy's. It was that simple.”

At this, Kerrie's eyes widened.

“No, I—” Mel got an odd look on her face. “I don't know that I'd use the word ‘favorite.’ ”

“Well, I would,” Aunt Clare said.

“All the more reason to give up the idea that I have any influence here,” Mel said in a fierce whisper. “Daddy didn't have any influence with Momma when he was alive, and I don't either. I'm only staggered she isn't packing up to move into Shady Corners, if that's what you want her to do.”

I thought the grandmother ought to be here. She was missing out on an important talk.

Mel said, “Have you been badgering her to sell her house?”

Right, I was thinking,
very
important talk. Miss Lasky was wrong.

“What do you want me to do, Melisande?” Aunt Clare's voice was held low, but her words came fast and angry. “Put Momma in a nursing home and run over here to vacuum on Tuesday mornings so the dust won't settle?”

“I can't help you with this, Clare.” Mel got up from the table, walked toward the sink.

They might have said more, but the grandmother opened her bedroom door. Aunt Clare said, “Well, that's it, then. Let's us go to the mall, Kerrie.”

“Make sure you eat,” the grandmother said, coming into the kitchen. “Soon.”

“No problem,” Aunt Clare said. “The last thing we want is a meltdown in J. C. Penney's.”

I had to admire Aunt Clare's cool. She looked and sounded like she'd been talking about nothing more upsetting than which vacuum cleaner she ought to shop for.

“Put down that washcloth for a few minutes,” Mel said, “or I'm going to start worrying about frostbite.”

“It's just getting numb,” I said, which was fine with me.

“That's what I'm talking about. Momma and I are going outside to sit in the garden, like ladies do. Make sandwiches, would you? And bring them outside.”

Mel and the grandmother spent a few minutes collecting iced tea, glasses, and napkins. Once the grandmother was sure I had paper plates and all the makings of ham-and-cheese sandwiches, I was alone in the kitchen.

My ear hurt a whole lot worse as the numbness wore off, so I spread mayo on the bread and then iced my ear for a minute. I took the wrappers off sliced cheese and then iced my ear another minute. I thought I could handle this after all.

I went over to the sink to wring out my washcloth, and while I was there, I heard them moving around under the kitchen window. The grandmother was saying, “. . . embarrassed about the baby you're carrying now?”

Mel laughed out loud. “I'm not embarrassed by this baby. Elvira might be, I suppose...”

There was a little bit I didn't hear clearly—a chair scraped as they settled down.

“. . . get the feeling you're not real happy about it,” the grandmother said.

“Sometimes I am, Momma. Other times, I ask myself, what am I starting over for? When this child is grown, I'll have spent thirty years packing school lunches, asking if the homework is done, telling somebody what time they have to be home.”

The grandmother didn't reply to this. Mel went on after a few moments, saying, “I gave away all the baby stuff. Twice. Now I need to buy a crib for the third time.”

“Get somebody to give you a crib. I'll give you a crib, I believe there's one in the attic.”

“Some women have the good sense to get this all over with in one fell swoop—”

“And you want to be one of them?” the grandmother said, like Mel must have lost her mind. “If the other two were toddlers, I would understand perfectly. But your girls are already leaving you little by little.”