Mama skims my apology. “Good.” She says.
“Did you read the whole thing?”
“Yes.”
I stand by her bed and wait for her to say more but she sinks back down into the sheets. No more lectures about being the better person or knowing how to stand up for yourself in ways that don’t hurt others. Instead of being annoyed with me she acts like I don’t exist. I wait a few more seconds and watch Mama try to get comfortable. Her face is full of pain as if she’s trying to nap on a bed of sharp things. “Makeda. Please stop hovering.” She finally barks and then turns her back to me and goes to sleep. I tiptoe out and leave her door cracked.
At 4 o’clock Mama emerges from her room and drives me by the rec center. She hasn’t bothered to get dressed so I leave the note in Mrs. Karen’s mailbox by the front desk.
“We won’t tell your father about this.” Mama says on our way back. “But don’t let it happen again.”
“Ok.” I say knowing we probably won’t speak to Papa until the middle of next week anyway since he’s traveling in some remote town in South Korea now. And that Mama will probably forget all about this by that time. She’s been forgetting a lot these days.
I glance up front. Mama’s freckles seem to jump off her face in the rearview mirror. Her cheeks are almost raw red. As if she is sunburnt and blushing all at the same time. She’s wearing a floppy straw hat and has pulled her hair back into a greasy ponytail that hangs down her back like a sad ribbon. I have the urge to cut it off. What’s the point of having hair like that if you’re not going to enjoy or take care of it? I pat my own hair. It’s grown out a few inches and even though Stormy told me to come back two weeks after “the chop” Mama hasn’t made another appointment in weeks. So I try as much as I can to take care of it myself. To pick it out with the Afro pick Mama had in her tub full of my old hair stuff. So that it’s even. But the back has grown out too much and in the mirror I can see I need Stormy’s help. If my hair could be long and smooth like Mama’s maybe girls wouldn’t tease me. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a twisted ball of yarn all the time. Maybe I’d still be in Girl Scouts. Or in 6th grade at El Rio. Maybe nobody would call me names.
“Should we stop by the Melody Icey and surprise your sister?” Mama’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
“Right now?” I look down at my stained shorts and faded pink tank top. And then I glance at Mama’s holey sweatpants. “Maybe we should go tomorrow?”
“Nonsense. We’re already out. I want to see where Eve’s been disappearing to all these weeks.”
When we pull up to the parking lot it’s packed. Mama circles the lot until we find a spot and then we walk up to the entrance. I take a place at the end of the line but Mama pushes her way through the crowd. “Excuse me. My daughter works here. Excuse me. We’ll only be a moment.” She keeps repeating as if she has VIP access. “Come on Makeda. What are you doing back there?” She yells from up ahead and the whole line turns to look at me.
“What are you doing here?” I hear Eve’s voice as Mama reaches the front.
“There she is. Look at you! Hard at work. And in uniform too!” Mama squeals. “How cute is that little hat.”
Eve is wearing all red with a white apron and a little cap on her head that looks like an upside-down cone.
“You look like a sad unicorn.” I can’t help but giggle. In fact all the other employees do too. The upside-down ice cream cone hats slipping down over their eyes as they bend over to scoop ice cream from the enormous freezers.
“Haha. Very funny.” Eve says. “Keda don’t even get me started on your outfit today.”
“Well I think it’s cute.” Mama says again. Eyeing the tubs full of ice cream. “I’m very proud of you Eve. At least one of my daughters is making the best out of her summer.”
There go my ribs again. Trembling. Did Mama drive here just to make me feel worse?
“Mama. You’re holding up the line. What do you want?” Eve has no time for praise. She’s very busy. The line behind us is growing impatient.
Mama orders a waffle cone with a triple scoop of cookies and cream. “I only had toast for breakfast.” She says. “So make the scoops extra large.”
“Maybe you want to eat something else when you get home?” Eve throws me a nervous look. “Like with protein or something?”
“Mmmmh this is soo delicious!” Mama ignores Eve and is already devouring her cone.
I get a double scoop of mint chocolate chip on a sugar cone. We sit at a table by the counter so we can watch Eve in action. Mama doesn’t look at me once. Every now and then she sighs with admiration at Eve. “She gets her social charm and stage presence from me.” Mama says to no one in particular. Watching as Eve jokes with a customer and his daughter. Halfway through eating my ice cream I get a stomachache.
“Better eat the rest before it melts.” Mama pushes.
“I’m full.” I say. “I kinda feel like I’ll throw up if I take another bite.”
“Well next time get a smaller scoop. There are kids all over the world who don’t have the luxury of wasting food. You’re lucky you know.”
“I know.” I manage to eat a few more bites. Then I just let the ice cream cone melt in the sun. My hands sticky with guilt.