going back to bed,” I said impatiently.
“And you better still be in that bed when we get back from church services,” Muh’Dear warned. Mr. Boatwright didn’t add anything, but he gave me a threatening look. Right after they left, the phone rang.
“Hello, Annette. It’s Florence. I was wondering if—”
“I’m busy, Florence!” I snapped. Just looking at the bacon left on the platter made me nauseous.
“I just heard from your mama that you not feeling well. Is there anything I can do? Is there anything I can bring you?” she asked. I had expected Rhoda on the other end of the line.
“No! Uh…I’m fine,” I answered impatiently.
“I’ve got plenty of Midol and ginger tea. That always helps me when I have cramps,” Florence said sweetly. It amazed me how my rudeness never seemed to bother her.
“No, that’s all right. Rhoda’s bringing me some,” I told her firmly.
“I see. Well, when you see Rhoda tell her I said ‘hi.’” Even though Florence knew Rhoda didn’t like her that much, she always told me to tell her hi. I hung up abruptly, sorry that I was being unnecessarily rude to Florence.
Rhoda was hiding between some boxes on our back porch waiting for Muh’Dear and Mr. Boatwright to leave. As soon as I let her in the kitchen she ran to the refrigerator without a word. She had to open one of Mr. Boatwright’s root beer pops and take a long swallow first.
“What took you so long to answer the door?” she barked, shaking the pop bottle at me threateningly.
“I was on the phone with Florence—”
“Again?”
“Well yes—”
“I squatted down on your dusty, musty back porch on my knees in a pair of twelve-dollar tights waitin’ for you and you were on the phone talkin’ gibberish with that Florence?”
“Stop it, Rhoda! She hasn’t done a thing wrong for you and Mr. Boatwright to talk about her so bad every time I mention her name. You’re beginning to sound just like him! She’s always telling me to say ‘hi’ to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Rhoda said contritely, bowing her head “I truly am sorry. I don’t mean to trash the girl. She is a sweet person. I don’t even know her that well.” Rhoda blinked hard and took another swallow. “God knows I don’t want to sound like Buttwright.”
“Florence can’t help being blind. No more than I can help…being the way I am,” I mumbled.
“When you see Florence…tell her I said ‘hi.’” Rhoda smiled. She put her arm around my shoulder, and we walked upstairs to the bathroom next door to Mr. Boatwright’s room.
“How long will it take?” I asked between gulps of whiskey as I sat naked in a bathtub full of hot water. Rhoda had brought over a whole bottle of her daddy’s best whiskey. As expensive as it was, it tasted awful. It took me the longest time to get it all down without throwing up, and I got drunk as hell. I could not imagine what the cheap whiskey tasted like.
“I don’t know,” she answered. She was standing over the bathtub, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t even remove her coat. I figured she wanted to be prepared to run if something real bad happened.
I don’t remember much. All I remember is Rhoda helping me from the bathtub and into my gown and saying, “Gee, I hope you don’t get alcohol poisonin’.”
I woke up in the city hospital two days later. Muh’Dear, looking like she had not slept in a week, and a blank-faced Mr. Boatwright were standing over me.
“Who done it?” Muh’Dear whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward the door and wringing her hands.
I closed my eyes and groaned. Now was as good a time as any to pretend I was too sick to speak.
Muh’Dear asked me over and over, “Who done it? Who done it?”
Mr. Boatwright was frighteningly silent. He looked away every time I looked in his direction. He looked at the floor most of the time, twitching and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He cleared his throat and in a low, meek voice, told me, “Annette, I’m prayin’ for you. With God’s help, we gwine to pull through this mess unscathed.”
I was not in that much pain but I was weak and disoriented. All I could do was remain still and listen. Finally, I spoke, “I don’t know who got me pregnant,” I said. What else could I say?
Muh’Dear gasped and threw up her arms. She fell back against Mr. Boatwright,