And the Truth Shall Set You Free

“Roberta,” I said sternly, “have you considered that the guest room may be reserved for those coming from out of town? How dare you assume that you can just move into my daddy’s house uninvited. I tried to be nice to your pushy ass last night for Renee’s sake, and I was bone tired from flying all day, but I’m not tired now and if Renee doesn’t understand then f—”

Renee cut me off before I disrespected Estelle and Uncle Thomas. “Sissy, that’s enough!” I’d truly lost control. Everyone was working me to the core of my soul. Daddy would be sorely disappointed in my behavior.

Oh, where was that strong black man who had a kind encouraging word for everyone, the man who never met a stranger? The man who opened his home to anyone who was down on his luck? In the more than twenty years Daddy had worked at the Bethlehem Steel plant, he had been responsible for in excess of fifty people being hired. When those whose luck was on hiatus came to him, he would provide food, shelter, and an opportunity to go to work. Although a few weren’t interested, most pole-vaulted at the chance. Most of those who’d been hired on Edward Naylor’s recommendation were well on their way to retirement.

“Roberta, you know I love you, and though I wouldn’t put it as crudely as Glynda, I have to agree that we need to have any available space here for those coming from out of town.” The plastic customer-service smile on Renee’s face indicated that she was trying to spare everyone’s feelings. “Actually, what would be better is if you could open your home for some of those coming from out of town. Mr. Fred Bowman, Daddy’s old army buddy, called this morning to say that he’d be here with his wife. Maybe they can stay at your place. We sure don’t want people to have to stay in hotels if we can avoid it. Buying last-minute airline tickets is enough of an expense. So what do you think?”

“Well, I’d rather be here in the heart of everything to help wherever I can. I can sleep in the den on the sofa bed. Mr. Bowman and his wife are welcome to stay at my place, though.” It was clear that Roberta had no sense of appropriate behavior.

I felt it my responsibility to open the doors of the library’s main branch to read her ass. “I’m saying this only once,” I began, “and I really don’t care if you ever speak to me again because I’ve only tolerated you all these years for Renee’s sake. We don’t want you staying here. You can visit like all of the other family friends. You may stay as late as you like, arrive as early as you please. Understand me when I say, you don’t have to go home, but you gonna get the hell outta here!”

Crocodile tears flowed freely onto Roberta’s red sweatshirt with the Delta sorority logo. “Why do you begrudge me being with my sister in her time of need? I just want to pay my respects and do what I can.”

I couldn’t understand why Roberta wanted so badly to be one of us. She and Renee had met in high school their senior year. As was Daddy’s way, he’d welcomed Roberta into his home as if she were family when Renee invited her to one of his famous cookouts. He had nicknames for everyone. Roberta had been named Aunt Bert because of the way she doted on everyone’s children. She stayed to help clean up after the party and had confided in Daddy that she’d never known her own father and would love it if she could call him Papa Eddie. We had all found the request a little strange after a first meeting, but, of course, Daddy agreed. From that moment on she was a self-proclaimed Naylor girl.

“Okay, okay. Tell you what. Come stay at my place, Bert. We have enough stress without fighting over you.” Renee waved a white hankie as if surrendering.

“Where’re you staying?”

“Give it a rest, Roberta. Please!” Estelle’s authoritative maternal tone caused us all to pause.

Like an abused puppy, Roberta slinked her way into the kitchen.

“Estelle, when is Jimmy, I mean Jamaica, getting in?” Dawn asked, draining the last drop of doctored-up coffee from her cup.

“He will be in tonight around midnight. He’s been able to get a flight from Paris and will be on a red-eye into Dulles.”

“That boy’s dancing sure has taken him around the world. I ain’t mad at him. And he sho’ ’nuff looks better in a dress than I do!” I said, laughing as I thought back to the days when we were all in junior high school. Jimmy had been in every musical the Harlem Park Junior High School ever produced. Daddy would drag us to his plays. “Estelle, did you ever know why we were at all of Jamaica’s plays?”

“Because Eddie knew James wasn’t going to show up. He said Jimmy needed the love of a good strong black man. We knew from the time that Jimmy was just a little thang that he was different. By the time he was in junior high, we knew he was funny. That’s what we called it back in those days. Gay, homosexual, lesbian—those are all new terms. It was funny, sissy, or bull dagger back then. But your daddy never made any difference with Jimmy. Jimmy will tell you when he gets here that he considers himself Eddie Naylor’s son. He was so happy we were getting married because he said that now it could be official.” Tears began to fall afresh.

“For as long as I can remember, Daddy was proud of his blackness. He would start to preach about what good strong black men did and didn’t do. You know, Anthony is right. I always turned him down because he wasn’t my daddy.”

“Gurl, you betta hold on to that brotha if he’s willing to stay with you after you have turned down his marriage proposal … what is it, six times now?” Dawn was adding her own twist to “You Betta Hold On to the Brotha If.…” “I didn’t tell you all that Reginald proposed to me a couple months ago.”

“Gurl, at least he’s finally willing to marry you,” Renee said, placing a pound cake and knife in the center of the dining room table.

“Hell, Reginald’s been married five times. A marriage proposal from him ain’t all that special,” Collette interjected with her normal sarcasm.

“Oh, now that is chilly, but oh so true. That’s why I told him thanks, but no thanks. He had the nerve to act like he was hurt.”

“Y’all some funny modern-day women. Dat’s fo’ sho’! Way back when, a woman almost nevah said no when a man axed heh to marry him. Den she stayed wit’ him ’til death did dem part.”

“And I bet death departed the women first from putting up with all that mess. I’m not staying with a man who doesn’t treat me like a queen.”

Collette always made it so easy for me to bag on her. “And you couldn’t figure out they didn’t treat you like royalty before you married them.”

“To hell with you, Glynda. Just because you’re scared of commitment, don’t hate me because I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Risky marriages are like flying on Take-a-Chance Airlines,” Renee said, slicing pound cake and passing it around to each of us as though we had asked for it.

Collette took her plate and said, “Like the Dave Koz song says, ‘I’m glad I didn’t know the way it all would end … I would have missed the dance.’ Life is too short, as Daddy has proven, to put happiness on hold. Even if the happiness is temporary. I don’t regret my decisions, though I can guarantee you both the former Mr. Collettes are regretting their transgressions. This sistah got it going on!”

“Now I really don’t want this to get out,” I said, “but I agree with you, Collette. This has taught me that nothing is guaranteed. I love Anthony, and if I hadn’t been so stubborn, he would be here to comfort me right now.”

“Gurl, but then his foine brotha wouldn’t be coming!”

Everyone in the room laughed at Dawn, and she looked around as though she didn’t understand what she’d said that was so humorous.

“What did I miss this morning?” Roberta entered, carrying a freshly made pot of coffee in one hand and a bottle of Remy Martin in the other.

“Well, we met with the funeral director, and your friend over there handled Mr. Brown like he was a criminal, but she saved us a ton of money.” I poured more Remy Martin than coffee into my gray coffee mug.

“Oh, she’s a tough purchasing agent. I like watching her work. I wish I could negotiate like that,” Roberta said proudly.

“We finally settled on what Daddy is wearing,” I said. “Actually, Uncle Thomas decided for us. We were arguing over what we are going to wear when you came in and we decided that picking on you was more fun.”

Roberta didn’t find my comment at all funny.

“I guess we should get back to it. I think either burgundy or gray suits with the opposite accessories would work. Does everyone have those color suits or dresses?” Estelle said, mindlessly stirring the black coffee in her burgundy mug.

“I think we should wear more traditional colors like black or white.” Roberta acted as though someone had asked her opinion.

“We’ve been through all of this. It was decided we’d wear Daddy’s favorite colors, Bert.” Renee had a little edge in her voice.

“My burgundy suit is a winter one, and I don’t know if I can find something lightweight enough that would match y’all.”

Collette pretended to smoke an unlit cigarette. “Like we give a rat’s ass what you wear.”

“I can have Rico bring my gray suit and shoes. We tried to pack for the funeral, but we picked black and off-white. I haven’t talked to her since I got here. I should call her.” I tried to defuse the imminent storm rolling in from the direction of Roberta and Collette.

“Well, I just think I should be dressed like the rest of Papa Eddie’s daughters,” Roberta whispered to herself, loud enough for all to hear.

“That works for me, too. Derrick and Derrick junior have gray suits. Lette and Dawn?” Renee pretended she hadn’t heard Roberta’s comment. Her patience with her friend was growing quite thin.

“Fine with me,” Collette said without emotion.

“Me, too.” Dawn made it unanimous.

Roberta slithered into the kitchen, defeated.

I can’t explain why it had been such a huge issue previously. The expensive cognac with a little coffee added had taken the edge off.

We continued to make small talk. Everyone around the table seemed to have aged ten years during the twenty-four hours that had passed since my arrival. Renee prepared to pick up her three youngest from school and make dinner. She promised to return before six with the entire crew. Dawn took my laptop into Daddy’s office to search the Net for the casket he had requested. Pulling a cigarette from an almost empty pack, Collette hid her puffy, bloodshot eyes behind Ray-Bans as she picked up her purse to leave without a word. Uncle Thomas went home to gather more clothes and to wash his already immaculate car. Estelle followed Renee out the door, promising to return around six, as well. That left Roberta and me alone. What had they been thinking?

Silence descended on the house much like the fog rolls in off the Pacific Ocean to blanket San Francisco. We stared at each other, searching for something, anything, to say.

“I guess I should gather my things and go home to make sure my guest room is ready for Papa Eddie’s friends.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“You know, Glynda, I don’t mean any harm. But your family is the only people where I feel any real love. You all are as thick as welfare peanut butter. I envy that more than I could even explain. I don’t talk to my real family except on holidays, and that is merely out of obligation, not desire. I know I bother you being around so much. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it. Your family is my lifeline to happiness.”

I was stunned by Roberta’s candor. What was the proper response? What would Eddie Naylor do? Without hesitation I walked over to embrace her with genuine feeling for the first time ever.Every pore in her body exuded anguish. Her trembling body gave off a scent of bitterness. Her stifled moans caused a silent wailing in my own soul. I realized, at that moment in time, Roberta had truly felt the loss of a father. We stood in the room where laughter had been shared around a table at which love was the only thing that overshadowed the food. We rocked back and forth crying for what seemed like hours.