CHAPTER 9

Lexie watched. From a safe distance, she watched Mrs. Pointe with her dad. Sometimes she watched Angela interact with Mammaw, Uncle Rob, and Tank Tank loved her. But mostly she watched Angela with her dad. They stayed up late, talking on the porch and the pier while he crabbed or fished and she flipped through magazines. Curious to know what went on when she wasn t around, a few times Lexie pretended to go to bed early to eavesdrop. To the best of her discernment, they didn t act any different when they were alone.

Lexie couldn t decide how she felt about Angela. She wasn t too annoying. She wasn t often in the way. Whenever she, Lexie, wanted someone s attention her dad s or her grandmother s Angela left the area. Even after Mammaw told Angela Lexie did it on purpose, Angela smiled and said it worked for both of them. Lexie wasn t sure what she meant, but Mammaw laughed, so it was most likely an insult.

Overall, Lexie couldn t find enough to dislike about her. Angela was black she didn t know if that made her beautiful, but she seemed pretty enough, with brown eyes and thick spirally hair . Angela s hair was dark, not blonde like her mom s. It wasn t cut in layers, so the red highlights showed through. Lexie didn t think her mother was pretty anymore. Her hair wasn t soft and shiny like it used to be and her teeth were kind of yellow. Jackie s rounded belly stuck out. Instead of exercising she got high and watch TV. Sometimes, she didn t smell good.

In that area, Angela had her beat. Angela had everybody beat. Lexie would never admit it, but she thought Angela smelled like a flower that she wanted to keep inhaling. Sometimes she would sneak into Angela s room to spray her perfume and catch a whiff. When she grew up, she would get that exact scent, and she would wear it every day for the rest of her life.

There was one other thing perplexing about Mrs. Pointe. She didn t disregard Lexie. She wasn t inviting, but she never told her to go away or ignored her. Sometimes her mother ignored her, but whenever Lexie asked Angela a question, she got an answer. Not always a nice answer, but then, her questions weren t always nice either.

.     .     .

Angela opened the bathroom door and jumped a foot off the floor. Lexie stood in the doorway, her blue eyes wide and her frown prominent. Good Lord, child, you almost gave me a heart attack.

Lexie didn t comment.

I suppose you want something. Nolan s house had two and a half bathrooms. Each room at the Enn came with one, and there was one downstairs. It wasn t as if Lexie had to wait to pee.

Dad and Mammaw and Uncle Rob and me and Tank are going down to the beach. Maybe some snorkeling. Dad told me to ask you if you wanted to come.

Angela , still trying to get her heart rate down, took a deep breath. No, but thank you for asking.

Dad told me to ask you.

You did us both a favor by listening. If he had to do it himself, he wouldn t have taken no for an answer. Then we would be stuck with each other all day. She stepped around Lexie and moved off without a backward glance.

.     .     .

What are you doing?

Angela glanced up. There was Lexie. Did you knock?

This room didn t use to belong to anybody.

While I m here, it belongs to me. I expect people to knock and wait until I invite them inside.

Lexie reached behind her and knocked twice on the now open door. She waited.

Angela smashed her lips together. She did not want to encourage the brat.

Still, Lexie waited.

Are you waiting for me to say come in? A little late for that.

They re your dumb rules. Lexie came further into the room. She didn t say anything as she inspected the walls. Only two pictures were hanging. One was an autographed group shot of the 72 Miami Dolphins. The other was of a Tequesta village. I have an uncle who slept in this room for a while.

Rob.

Not him. He s a doctor. What would he need to stay in this rinky hole for? I meant my uncle Travis.

Realizing Lexie wanted an audience, Angela closed her book. I haven t met him. Is he your mother s brother?

Eww. No. He was a surprise from my grandfather.

I see.

He was supposed to be getting to know people, cause Pop-pop was dying. The only person he wanted to know was Mommy. They spent a lot of time smoking pot and taking naps. The very words insulted her.

Is this something your dad would want you talking about?

Lexie set her face in an arrogant sneer. It s my family s business. I can tell it to whoever I like. Mammaw says, don t do it if you have something to hide.

Angela hunched her shoulders. It wasn t as if she had to care. Is this why your parents got divorced?

Mostly. At first, we lived in Orlando. But then Uncle Travis started taking naps with other people. Then we moved to California. Naps. That s what they told me.

Angela studied the child. This was an intelligent kid. Even at nine, or however old she was at the time, she wouldn t have appreciated down-talking. I wouldn t have gone for it either. Maybe they couldn t think of a decent way of putting it.

Maybe they shouldn t have done it.

You re right.

Lexie stared at Angela for a long moment. Then, without another word, she left.

That was Lexie s routine. She would appear, start a conversation, drop it, and disappear.

Angela was getting used to this tactic. Still, it made her frown. Creepy, she mumbled and returned to her book. Her phone rang. The ringtone made her smile. Hey, Deed.

Deidra was talking, but not to her.

Also creepy. She hung up the phone.

.     .     .

Angela came through the living room, dusting. She used the orange polish for the coffee and end tables, drawn to the deep rich wood.

Why are black people different?

That came from nowhere. Lexie? Startled, Angela searched for the child.

Lexie pulled the curtains back from the bay window seat.

Girl.

I can see your skin, but why are Black people different?

Angela sat the polish down. Everybody is different. All races have their things. But, as a general rule, back people aren t different. White people are different.

Lexie snapped to attention.

This is an overview. I m using very general terms, understand?

Lexie nodded.

Generally speaking, there are two kinds of white people. One kind is just like everybody else. They try to love themselves and other people too. They listen and talk, learn and teach. They help and hurt all the normal stuff.

What s the other kind?

They don t understand everyone has equal value. A homeless man and a doctor are worth the same.

The kid squinted her brow. This was news.

Some people get their value from devaluing others. They see things in terms of comparison: this is a better house, this is a better job, this is a better person. They can t win the competition unless they find or create a loser. They don t listen. They don t learn. And they don t help. Watching Lexie absorbing knowledge was the most rewarding thing Angela had ever experienced. People from all races can be mean like that, but white people have the unique power to cause harm that s what racism is. It s not saying, I hate black people, or Mexicans, or white people. Racism is having the power to harm an entire race. If they are the kind of white people who get their value from devaluing others, they cause a lot of harm. The problem, for people of color, is figuring out who s who because you all are white on the outside.

Lexie contemplated a moment, then made a face. Mammaw said, yesterday, white people gave black people a rough day on purpose. It lasted four hundred years and still going. Today, black people ain t here for white people s shit. So don t try it.

Angela pressed her lips together to hold in her laugher. That too.

I read about slavery. Daddy told me what redlining was. I m not here for white people shit either. Lexie closed the curtain.

I appreciate it, Angela said. Stop using swear words. The grin escaped, and the reprimand was lost.

.     .     .

To his credit, Nolan did not force a relationship on either of them. Angela accommodated Lexie s mood swings. Lexie usually remembered to be polite, and she was less guarded around their guest. It helped that Tank was an appendage an appendage that could eat his weight in one sitting. The ten-year-old kept the balance of time and attention even.

Angela had been there for almost three weeks. It wasn t getting old at all. Thanks to her, Nolan began to enjoy the simple pleasure of living. It was pleasant to share his thoughts with her. Or listen to her ideas. It was nice to agree and fun to disagree every once in a while. Race was a vast frontier for them to explore. Learning to blur the lines might be hell for the country, but arousing in his house. It was good to be around a woman, catch her laughter, watch her eyes sparkle, inhale her perfume, and imagine how soft she was.

The experience was good for Lexie too. They didn t exactly get along, but he wanted Angela s influence for his daughter.