this mission of mercy really was the only right thing to do. But as she silently critiqued Barbara Jean’s sexy mourning outfit, another side of Clarice’s nature leapt to the forefront and she began to eagerly anticipate describing Barbara Jean’s getup to her mother and her cousin Veronica. Their reactions would be priceless.
The living room was crowded with showy, ornate furniture that was all well past its prime. With each step, a plastic runner protecting the bright orange carpet crunched beneath their feet. The place looked as if someone with a little money, but not much taste or good sense, had once lived there and left behind all their stuff.
Odette walked over to Barbara Jean and held out the box. “We were sorry to hear about your loss. My mama sent this. It’s a roast chicken.”
Barbara Jean said, “Thank you,” and reached for the box, looking eager to hasten her visitors’ departure. But the man grabbed the box away just as Odette handed it to her. He said, “Y’all come on into the kitchen,” and walked toward the back of the house. The girls didn’t move, and from the next room the man shouted, “Come on now.” Obedient girls that they were, they followed.
The kitchen was in worse shape than the two rooms Clarice and Odette had passed through to get to it. The floor was so chipped they could see the tar paper underneath the linoleum. Dirty dishes were heaped in the rusted metal sink and piled on the cracked wooden countertop. The red patent leather seat covers of the kitchen chairs had all split open and dingy white stuffing bulged out of the open seams.
Where, Clarice wondered, were the aunts, female friends, and cousins who were supposed to descend en masse to cook, clean, and comfort after a tragedy? Even the lowliest, most despised second or third cousin in her family would have merited at least one afternoon of attention on the day of their burial. But no one had bothered to come here.
The man sat at the table and motioned for them to sit with him. The three girls sat down and stared at each other, not knowing what to say. He turned toward Odette and said, “Tell your mama that me and my stepdaughter sure appreciate her kindness.” He reached out then and patted Barbara Jean’s arm, causing her to flinch and scoot away from him, her chair making a loud scraping noise as the metal feet dug into the scarred floor.
Clarice wanted to get out worse than ever, but Odette wasn’t doing anything to move the process along. Odette just watched the man and Barbara Jean closely, as if she were trying to decipher a riddle.
The man poured a shot of whiskey from a bottle of Old Crow that sat in front of him on the table. Then he picked up his smudged glass and drained it in one swallow. Clarice had never seen a man drink straight whiskey and she couldn’t help gawking. When he noticed her staring, he said, “Sorry, girls. Where’s my manners? Barbara Jean, get some glasses for our guests.”
Barbara Jean put her hand to her forehead and sank a little lower in her chair.
Odette said, “No, thank you, sir. We just came to drop off the food and get Barbara Jean. My mother said to bring her back to our house for dinner and not to take no for an answer.”
Barbara Jean looked at Odette and wondered if she was crazy. Clarice kicked Odette hard under the table with the point of her shoe. Odette didn’t yelp or react at all. She just sat there smiling at the man, who was pouring his second drink.
“Nah, I don’t think she should go anywhere tonight,” he said, his wide mouth twisting into a nasty expression that made Clarice’s stomach tighten up. She got the feeling that something bad was about to happen, and she set her feet beneath her so she could run if she needed to. But the man relaxed his mouth back into his cannibal grin and said, “Barbara Jean’s been through a lot today and she should stay home with her family.” He looked around the room and made an expansive, circular motion with the whiskey bottle as if he were indicating a corps of relatives scampering and fussing around them. Then he put the bottle down and touched Barbara Jean’s arm again. Again, she recoiled from him.
Odette said, “Please let her come. If we come back without her,