The windshield wipers swiped across the glass. Sarah stared out the window of the car, only giving me nods of her head or grunts for answers. The silence annoyed me. I'd called everyone I knew, putting out feelers for a new job or something part-time for extra money. So far no luck, which seemed to be the only kind I've had lately.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything for school. The car set me back quite a bit."
"It's okay." Sarah sulked. "I understand."
"Too bad, because I don't. I'm not sure why we're being tested right now, but there's got to be a reason."
"Being tested? I thought it was called being poor."
I pulled the Honda in front of Scarlett's two-story, four thousand square foot Versailles-style home. Rachel's minivan pulled in behind me. Her daughter Kendra stepped down from her mom's vehicle. The crisp whiteness of her shoes told me they were new. More guilt set in.
Even though I'd seen Scarlett's house more times than I could remember, its beauty still took my breath away. A white stone pathway led up to a door encasing beveled glass that displayed two etched white lilies. The immaculate deep green grass accented the soft pink cyclamen flowers along the front of the house.
Scarlett's daughter, Victoria, welcomed us into a long hallway. Pictures of the family lined the walls, and a peacock figurine sat atop a small entryway table off to the right. The green of its tail matched the green of the stems in the glass surrounding the front door.
I gave Victoria a hug."I'm always amazed by how beautiful your home is."
"Thanks. Mom's in the kitchen." She turned her attention to Sarah and Kendra. "Want to come see my room? I've redone it."
"Again?" Kendra pushed her wire-framed glasses higher on her nose and groaned. "Don't you ever get tired of redecorating?"
"Never." Victoria laughed. "It's in my blood."
The girls headed upstairs. I'd overheard Kendra on many occasions explain to my Sarah that no one should buy new clothes if the old ones still fit. It kept Sarah from wanting to keep up with Victoria. Kendra was often a godsend in my otherwise tight budget.
The aromas of barbeque and hot pepper sauce assaulted my nostrils as I followed Rachel to the kitchen. I could overhear Scarlett’s husband Robert speaking, "The only spicy thing I want is you." Robert's voice had a sensual tone to it.
Scarlett giggled. "Don't you ever get enough of me?"
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at me and placed a finger to her lips. She tucked her head into the entrance to the traditional kitchen, which boasted charcoal gray countertops with cream-colored cabinet panels. She smiled, gave me a wink, and then took a step forward. "We'd be more than happy to wait in the other room until you're finished," she said to the two in the kitchen.
We both walked into full view. Robert removed his arm from around his wife. He blushed all the way over his bald head. His gray polo shirt made his complexion even more pronounced.
"We was just cuddling," Scarlett said with as much Southern charm as she could muster. Her red face matched the apron she wore around her waist.
"Funny, looked more like pawing to me." Rachel poked her elbow into my ribcage.
"I'm off." Robert kissed Scarlett's cheek. "Nice seeing you again, ladies."
"Robert," Rachel and I sang in unison.
"So where are the girls?" Scarlett spoke with a quiver in her voice.
"Up with Victoria." Rachel leaned over taking in a whiff of the chicken. "Umm. The wings smell good."
"It's a new recipe." Scarlett came around and gave me a hug. "How are y'all holding up, darlin'?"
"We're getting by," I said.
"Well, don't y'all worry, I'm sure something good'll come out of it." Scarlett gave me one last squeeze. "But if you need any help, you let me know. Robert and I'll be more than happy to give you some money to get you by. It won't be a loan, either. It'll be a gift."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. Less working hours might give me time for something else, like collecting cans on the side of the highway. Think how much nicer the town will look without all the garbage along the road." My day had been filled with fear and anxiety. But I didn't want my friends to know, so I forced a smile. "I wouldn't be so worried if Michael actually paid his support."
Rachel slid her finger over the stirring spoon for the wings and brought it to her mouth for a taste. "I thought you had a court date back in July to get him to pay what he owed you."
"The judge told him to pay ten percent and get a job. The rest got broken down into payments again. The ten percent went to my lawyer, and I have yet to see anything since then. And as far as I know, he still isn't working."
"You've taken him to court three times now, and each time they've increased his monthly payments after he makes a small stipend." Rachel pulled out one of the bar stools from under the cherry-stained kitchen island. "Are these judges so thick they don't see he's never going to pay if he doesn't have to?"
"What do they care? It doesn't affect them." I pushed hair back from my face, willing my tears back. I refused to cry over this again.
"Let's all get together," Rachel said. "Find Michael and castrate him. We'll hold his most prized possession until the debt's paid in full. I bet he'd come up with the whole amount within an hour."
"You are so northern. Southern women would never whack it off." Scarlett used a paper towel to wipe bleu cheese dressing that had spilt on the countertop.
"Yeah, they'd just have it permed and coiffed," Jory said, surprising us from the entryway.
"Jory, you look great." Scarlett placed wings onto a plate as she spoke.
"Thank you." Jory posed with one hand on her hip and another high in the air, showing off her tight, thin body.
"I wish I could have your body. Then maybe I'd get a rich man to marry me." I squeezed the side of Jory's waist looking for any proof of fat. Nothing. Brat.
"I'll get you in shape. Just let me know when."
Even if Jory cut her price, I knew I couldn't afford a personal trainer."Right now I have Rachel dealing with my finances. She's trying to get me out of debt, so I can't do anything new at the moment."
"Mom, are the snacks ready?" Victoria pointed to the wings as she walked in, followed by Sarah, Kendra, and Frankie, Jory's daughter. Frankie had more muscles than her mother.
"Look at them girls," Scarlett said. "Y'all are getting so grown up. In answer to your question, yes, dinner's ready. We just need to say the prayer."
"Well, let's get on with it. I'm starving." Rachel glanced over at a pie sitting on the stove. "That dessert looks real good."
Frankie nodded. "Yeah, and the food smells great."
We all grabbed one another's hands and bowed our heads as Scarlett prayed. "Dear Lord, please bless this food and these people in my kitchen. Keep us safe from harm. Lord, I'd like to add a special prayer for the Zimmermans to get through this hard time. Amen."
With God on my side, how can I lose? I repeated the question in my mind, but it did nothing to improve my mood. Under the distraction of the girls gathering food, I quickly wiped my eyes.
The teens left to eat in the sunroom at the back of the house. We four ladies filled our plates and proceeded to the dining room. I slid my chair up to the round cherry-stained table and inhaled the aroma of hot sauce from the wings. My sinuses would be clear for a year.
"We gonna sit here all day and eat, or we gonna play some cards?" Rachel rubbed her hands together. "I'm in a winning mood."
"You're always in a winning mood." Scarlett wiped sauce from the corner of her mouth.
"Why don't we talk, then play cards?" Jory said. "We only saw each other for a brief time at the school and sporadically over the summer because of all our vacations."
"Just as long as it doesn't take all day for you to cut the key lime pie." Rachel glanced into the kitchen and licked her lips.
****
I leaned back in the chair, adjusting the waistband of my pants. I'd eaten too many wings. Could be why I didn't have Jory's waistline. Two bones sat on her plate, and I had at least seven. The tart key lime pie had floated down my throat. Why can't unhealthy food be good for you?
"Delicious." Jory finished her last bite of dessert. "Nothing beats key lime pie."
"I never had it before I came down here," said Rachel. "You don't get it much up north."
"It's a Southern thing," Scarlett explained. "It's like grits, collard greens, and sweet tea. You find it a lot in the South."
"I'm not a fan of grits, but I sure do like key lime pie." Rachel licked some of the whipped topping from her fingers.
"Thank you for the lunch, Mrs. Mitchell." Sarah carried several plates from upstairs, followed by Kendra, who held two glasses.
"Thank you, darling." Scarlett pulled Sarah into a hug. "I can't believe how big you've gotten. How do you like school so far?"
"It's okay." Sarah answered. "I got stuck taking home economics as an elective."
"Home Ec can be fun," Rachel said. "I remember how much of a laugh we had when I made a stuffed animal? It came out flat as a pancake. Apparently I missed the part about it needing to be stuffed. Besides, you'll learn how to do a budget, how credit cards charge huge interest rates, and other useful things."
"I know." Sarah delivered the dishes to the kitchen sink then returned upstairs with Kendra.
"Unfortunately, we may end up having to use my credit cards to survive," I said.
"Don't you worry none." Scarlett reached across and patted my hand. "God may close a door, but he opens a window first. You just need to find your open window."
"With the way my luck's going, the sash will probably crash down on me as I'm climbing through. Then I'd really be hanging out all over." I swung my arms and legs in the air.
"Mom, can I show the girls my new clothes?" Victoria hollered from upstairs.
Scarlett leaned back in her chair and faced the stairs. "Just hang them back up when you're done."
A smile crossed over Jory's face.
"What's so funny?" I pushed my plate away to keep from nibbling on the bones.
"Just recalling the clothes I wore in high school. Leg warmers, stretch pants and long tee shirts. I wasn't in shape like now. I stretched that material as far as it would go."
"Most people did," Rachel said. "It seemed only the overweight girls in my high school wore it. I had the Boy George long coat to go over my acid washed jeans."
"Remember the side ponytail with the big scrunchy in the hair?" Scarlett pulled her hair off to one side to demonstrate.
Jory giggled. "You did have the bright blue eye shadow to go with it, didn't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, I've got a couple of years on you girls," I said. "I didn't quite hit the 80's style. I got stuck in the 70's." I shuddered at the memories.
"You poor dear," Scarlett said. "Don't tell me you wore the Farah Fawcett hair?"
I nodded. "And platform shoes. Later I became a David Bowie fan, so I cut my hair short and colored it bright red like Ziggy Stardust."
Jory burst out with a laugh. "At least in the '80s we got to do the big hair. It's the decade we ruined the ozone layer, using bottles upon bottles of hairspray to stick all our hair out."
****
"And that, my friends, is how you play the game," Rachel bragged after I reached the 200 point mark we'd set.
"One of these days, I'm going to leave you with all the hearts but one," Jory said. "That'll teach you."
"I look forward to it."
Scarlett gathered the cards together. "You always seem to win."
"And I always seem to lose," I said. Just like in real life. Boy, I truly am on a pity party today. Good thing I didn't say that out loud or they'd throw me out.
"You just wait. Your time's coming." Scarlett nodded. "Not only have I been praying for your job situation, but I've also been praying for a good man to come into your life. I just know God's gonna come through."
"I'd settle for the finances." My face heated when the memory of Brandon Nash's face popped into my mind. I tried to erase the image of his bulging biceps as he leaned over the engine of my car. "I'm sure God has more important things to do than find me a man."
"Your needs are just as important as anyone else's," Rachel said.
"And I just know Michael's gonna get his," Scarlett added. "He's been getting away with being irresponsible way too long."
"I hope you're right." A familiar lump rose in my throat. "He's getting married."
"Wow. How are you doing?" Rachel covered my hand with hers.
"I've known it was over for a long while. This just puts a period on it." I pushed myself up from the chair. "I sure hope your feelings are right, Scarlett. I don't care if he gets what's coming to him, as long as I get what he owes me."
"You just wait and see." Scarlett slapped her hand down on the table. "I just know God's gonna come through with something big for you. I can feel it."
"I'd better gather up my kid before Scarlett 'feels' me losing next month's game." Rachel did quotes in the air with her fingers.
"Don't mock my feelings. Most of the time they're right."
"Ladies, I've got to go. It's hard getting back into the school routine." I hated how the conversation seemed to come back to my life. "I just hope Matthew does well this year. He almost flunked sixth grade."
"Have you thought of getting him a tutor?" Scarlett asked.
I didn't want to consider how much a tutor would cost. "If he'd apply himself, I know he'd do better."
"It can't be easy, not having a dad around to help him." Jory rose from her chair. "I guess there's a lot of anger issues there."
"Unfortunately, they're all directed at me." I frowned. "I wish they'd realize Michael's the one at fault."
"They'll come around." Jory patted my forearm. "Listen, Phillip's bookkeeper is leaving for maternity leave. Maybe they'll need someone part-time. Would you be interested?"
"Sure."
"I'll talk to him about it tonight."
"And if Matthew needs help, Kendra can tutor him." Rachel often spoke with pride of her daughter's 4.0 grade point average. "She's in advanced classes this year."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, everyone." It seemed like most of my smiles tonight had been forced.
"It's good to see all of you again. Once a month during the school year just doesn't seem often enough to get together." Scarlett hugged me. "Maybe when the kids are grown, we can get together more often. Right now it's just hard with after school activities and work. Once the kids are gone and we have a moment to ourselves, it might be easier."
"Yeah, once we retire," I said.
****
Five seconds after entering my front door, I plopped down on the sofa. The living room lay in a mess. While we'd been gone, Anthony and Matthew had decided to play a game of sock ball. The Tiffany lamp Scarlett had given to me lay shattered in pieces on the floor.
"It wasn't my fault," Anthony whined. "Matthew threw it too high."
"Just get it cleaned up." Tears gathered in my eyes. I had no money, and my children were driving me to the edge. How could things get any worse? I wanted to crawl into bed and wait until the next decade to come out. By then they'd be adults, and I could tell them to get jobs. Not that it had worked with their father. But I still had hope one of my kids would support me when I got old and feeble.
A car pulled onto the gravel driveway. What now? I rose and looked out the large picture window. Great! A slender man stepped from a shiny red Corvette.
Anthony jumped up and down. "Dad's here!"
"Thanks, God." I glanced toward the ceiling. "This just makes it better."
Michael walked in without bothering to knock. I needed to start locking the door to keep the riffraff out. He gave each of his children a hug, and then stood in the middle of the living room, glancing around. "Don't you ever clean up?" His blue eyes pierced me. "This place is a pig sty."
"It's not my mess." I tried to keep my temper in check. "It's the boys'. Now they're cleaning it up."
"Looks like I came at a bad time." Michael stared at the floor. "I guess you have work to do, so I'll come back later."
"I'll clean it up." I jumped at the chance to get rid of him. "You take the kids out somewhere. Spend some time with them."
"No, you won't. Kids need to learn discipline." Michael shifted. "I didn't really have any plans. I didn't know if you'd even be home."
He probably hoped we'd be gone so he could leave a note like last time. I wanted him gone, but the kids needed to see him. "You're more than welcome to stay while they work. I was going to get dinner ready if you'd like to have something."
"How come you have to ruin everything?" He placed his hands on his hips. "Every time I come to see my kids, you make it about you and me. I'm sure Sarah told you I'm getting married in December?"
"I wasn't making anything about you and me," I sputtered. "If it would make you feel better, I'll go back to my room and you can have all the time with your children you want."
"You're just trying to get me to argue with you. You do this all the time and I have to leave early just so we don't get into it. I'll see you kids some other time."
He practically ran out the door. His tires spun as he drove off.
"Why'd you do that?" Matthew yelled. "You know he doesn't like it when you make it sound like we're a family again."
"I didn't do anything. I told him he could take you with him, but he didn't want to. I tried to make him feel more comfortable."
"You chased him off like you always do." Matthew stormed to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Tears formed in my eyes. Michael had showed up for less than five minutes, found an excuse to leave, and I ended up dealing with the aftermath. "Why am I always the bad guy?" I whispered.
"It's okay, Mom." Anthony patted my hand. "I know Daddy just doesn't love us anymore."
My heart shattered into more pieces than the lamp on the floor. No nine-year-old should think his own father doesn't love him. What words could I use to make it better? I found none, so I stood there with my mouth hanging open.
"I'll help Anthony clean up," Sarah said. "You go work on dinner." I wondered if she knew how much she meant to me. It probably wouldn't hurt to tell her more often.
The leftover chicken wings from Scarlett's reheated well for dinner. Matthew ate without saying a word and returned to his room. Sarah headed back to hers to do homework.
Anthony helped me stack dishes in the dishwasher. "Do you still love Daddy?"
"No, Anthony. I don't love your father."
"Matthew says he doesn't come see us because you still want us to be a family."
"Maybe Matthew doesn't know everything." I wanted so much to tell the children the truth. Their father had turned into a deadbeat dad who cared only about himself. But I knew it wouldn't lessen their pain. "Thank you for your help. Now go take a shower. We have church tomorrow."
The house stood quiet. I switched off all the lights and stared out the front window. Drops of rain tapped against the front window glass. A car's headlights flashed as it passed by. The urge to run away from my life and my problems nagged at me.
It wouldn't do any good. With my luck, the Honda would break down not even a block away. Then I'd get soaked walking back home. I pulled the drapes closed and sighed. Besides, I'd never dump my children. The running water in the bathroom did little to drown out Anthony's singing. A smile crept over my lips. It's funny how kids can do that. One minute you wanted to choke the life out of them, the next you wanted to hug them.
I passed Matthew's room before heading to my own. Though tempted to stop and explain, I knew it wouldn't do any good. Exhaustion hung over me. It was rough being made to feel guilty when I hadn't done anything wrong. I hoped Scarlett's feelings were right. I could use for something good to come along. And no matter how much I denied it, I did hope Michael finally got what he deserved.