bed. “Suddenly you look like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Did Scary Mary say somethin’ up there to upset you? Was she braggin’ about how Florence doin’ so well with a man and kids and you ain’t? Did she try to borrow money from you?”
“No, Ma’am. I’m just tired, that’s all. ’Night, Muh’Dear.”
How I did it I don’t know. I climbed into my bed and slept like a baby. I guess I was just that tired. When I woke up the next morning, I tried to make myself believe I had dreamed my conversation with Scary Mary about Rhoda and the pregnant white girl. I had not dreamed it. I knew that Rhoda had killed again, but I had to hear it from her.
My mind was a ball of confusion, and I stayed in my room for as long as I could. By the time I got downstairs to the living room, around nine, Mr. King had arrived. Like Pee Wee, time had been fairly good to him. He was now more handsome than ever. The deep lines around his sparkling eyes gave him a distinguished look, not a tired, used-up look like Scary Mary’s lines or Muh’Dear’s. His hair was gray, but thick and healthy-looking.
He gave me a big hug and led me to the couch, where I sat down next to him. “Just look at you. I told your mama, you can work for me anytime you want to. We all one big happy family,” he hollered, winking at Muh’Dear. “As attractive and sophisticated as you is, you’ll be a good addition to the Buttercup!” Mr. King exclaimed.
Muh’Dear nodded and smiled harder than ever before.
Around ten, Scary Mary returned hugging a bag of beers, straining like the bag weighed more than she did.
The chatter became one long rambling mess. In a way I was glad. They were doing so much talking, I could not have gotten a word in edgewise even if I had wanted to. There was too much on my mind for me to think clearly, let alone speak clearly. I almost jumped out of my skin when Rhoda’s name came up.
“Oh she called early this mornin’. She said to tell you she’ll be here sometime tomorrow. She can’t wait to see you,” Muh’Dear told me.
“I hope she bring me somethin’ like Pee Wee and Florence done. I treasure my fruit basket from Vietnam and my lamp from Toledo,” Scary Mary whined. “Annette, I guess you ain’t thought about no souvenirs before you left Erie, huh?”
“I’m sorry. I was in such a hurry to get packed and out of that city, I didn’t think about bringing anybody any souvenirs,” I explained.
Mr. King had also brought a big bag of beer with him, and everybody was drinking. I managed to eat a light breakfast and watch a little television on a small set Muh’Dear had installed on the kitchen counter, but I could not stop thinking about Rhoda. I didn’t know how I was going to approach her about the white girl. But for my own sanity and peace of mind, I had to confront her. If what I believed was true, and if for some strange reason Rhoda got caught, she might break down and confess the Boatwright murder, which would surely include my involvement. I felt sick. I desperately wanted to see her to find out for sure. I prayed that she would tell me and convince me that April had died accidentally.
Scary Mary went with Muh’Dear and Mr. King to his restaurant for dinner. They had all tried to talk me into going with them, but there was way too much on my mind. Once I was totally alone in the house I felt a strange sense of sadness. The last thing I wanted to do was cause a big stink with my best girlfriend. The timing was so wrong. This was supposed to be a time for rejoicing and reunions.
I was thankful to find a few leftover beers in the refrigerator. I drank every one in sight. The mild buzz made it easy for me to go to my room and take a nap. With so much on my mind, it didn’t bother me at all being in the very room where I had cried so many tears.
I don’t know exactly what time Rhoda blew into town the next day. She came over to our house around 6 P.M. loaded down with gifts. She gave Muh’Dear and Scary