Searching for Tina Turner - By Jacqueline E. Luckett Page 0,49
part of that time computing, if the calculator next to her paperwork is any indication, his commission.
Up to the time she rented that first apartment years ago, the biggest check she had written was for her car. That check for five hundred dollars was small compared to the one for the security deposit and first and last month’s rent she will write today. Her hand trembled when she signed that lease and handed over her check. Her hand trembles now; this time, she understands, for a different reason. The checkbook inside her Louis Vuitton is the one for their joint equity cash fund. The one she supposes she can still draw funds from. It has not dawned on her until this moment, in front of this nervous young man, that, like a husband from the movies, Randall may have cut off her access to their joint accounts or, worse yet, taken all of their money. She has no idea of how this divorce thing works. But she knows that she better find out soon. If he has a lawyer, then he has one up on her. Up his.
If Randall has dared to pull out all of their money, she will make a few phone calls, the first to Candace, to assure that the whole world knows. If the balances have not been touched—what an odd salute to her trustworthiness—Lena cannot help but think how funny, for all his formality, that Randall still leaves managing the household funds to her.
If her change, like Tina’s change, means taking the best from who she was to form who she wants to be, then Lena must accept and move on. She signs the new lease, effortlessly writes a check, and reminds herself to transfer funds to a separate bank account in her name.
“You really know what you want.” The agent grabs Lena’s hand and pumps enthusiastically, and she hopes, from the look of his frayed cuffs, that his commission will be spent on a new shirt. Let Randall worry about the cable bill, the PGE, the crack in the living room’s bay window, the ashes in the fireplace, weeds in the patio cement, the cedar armoire, Kendrick’s baptismal gown, Camille’s first Easter dress, his great-grandmother’s Bible.
She will move into this apartment and live here until the divorce is over and done done done.
f f f
In the car, Lena dials Bobbie’s home number and listens to the latest greeting on her sister’s voicemail: “You know what the deal is, and you know what to do. So, unless this is an emergency, leave a quick one.”
“I’ve told you about that message, Bobbie. What if Lulu calls, what kind of message is she supposed to leave?” Lena is tired of being ombudsman between the two women she loves most in the world. She sighs and tries not to let out all the sadness her stomach is having a hard time keeping down. “I’m glad you’re out. You need to do that more often anyway.” Lena pauses long enough to compose herself but not long enough for the machine to turn off automatically. “I signed a lease for an apartment. I feel like shit—but good shit. If you have any suggestions for telling our mother, let me know or, better yet, I don’t suppose you’d do that for me? Would you?” She can hear Bobbie’s voice in her head as clearly as if she had picked up the phone: no way.
f f f
Cell phone pressed to her ear, Lena peers through a crack in the curtains. Her mother sits at the table, a cup in front of her and a book in her hand. The television set is on, but Lena can’t hear it, and she guesses the volume is probably muted. Sometimes, Lulu keeps the TV on for the company the images, not the sound, offer. “I’m outside the back door, Lulu. Open up.”
Lulu flips back the flowery curtain from the kitchen door window before opening it. Her hair is covered with a blue slumber bonnet, her cheeks and lips are bare, her housedress is faded and worn at the elbows. The kitchen sink is full of dishes and pots. At the sink, Lena runs water into the rubberized dishpan. She searches under the cabinet for dishwashing soap hidden between assorted half-full bottles of cleansers and squeezes the blue liquid over the dishes.
The running hot water steams up the window above the sink while she washes the dishes and rinses them one by one. Lulu picks up