I waited on the porch, expecting to see them coming back up the drive, hand in hand, to get Ray and me. They’d take us home. We’d all be back to normal. Life would be easy for the first time I could remember. It would work like magic.
I waited for them even though I knew they wouldn’t come. At least not in the way I’d hoped they would.
After a little bit, Aunt Carrie came out to sit beside me on the steps. She brought with her the clean scent of washed dishes and I felt guilty for not staying inside to help her do them up. If she was sore about it, she didn’t tell me so.
“Do you remember me telling you that I was never able to have babies?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I lost a few of them like your mama did.” She reached around her knees, linking her hands in the front. “Three babies.”
“I didn’t know,” I said.
“That’s because I didn’t tell you.” She smiled at me. “Women don’t talk about it. Not really.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I suppose because it’s a private matter,” she answered. “I didn’t even tell Gus about the last two until later.”
“Was he mad you kept it a secret?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think he was more worried about me than anything.”
She shook her head no. “The grief made me feel like I would lose my mind.”
“Do you think that’s what’s wrong with Mama?”
“It might be,” she said. She let go of her knees and took my hand. “I believe she’ll come back. I keep praying for it to happen. It might take a long time, dear. A very long time. But I believe God can heal her heart.”
“Did you ever feel one of your babies move?” I asked.
Aunt Carrie shook her head. “I don’t believe so.”
“I felt Mama’s baby,” I said. “With my hands.”
“That must have been nice.”
I nodded.
We stayed there awhile longer. It felt good being outside and still like that, not rushing off to do something or go someplace. Just sitting and breathing in the crisp spring day was good enough for me.
Daddy came back not long after Aunt Carrie sent Ray and me up to bed. The springtime evening had made it hard for me to fall asleep, so bright and active was the world outside the window.
Even so, I’d have woken up if I’d heard Daddy’s voice anyway.
I was sure he’d come to bring Ray and me home.
Up out of bed I hopped, swinging my thin robe over my shoulders. I didn’t think of packing up any of my things. There would be time later for that. I couldn’t hardly wait another minute to get back to the house on Magnolia Street.
“Ray?” I said. “You up?”
All I heard back from his side of the room was thick breathing with just the smallest rasp of a snore. It was all right. He could come home the next day after school for all I cared.
I followed Daddy’s and Uncle Gus’s voices to the living room where they sat in a couple chairs in a corner of the living room. They were both sitting at the edge of their chairs, leaning forward, elbows on knees, talking close like they were sharing some kind of secret.
“Guess there’s a place just outside Detroit I could take her to. Doc Barnett told me about it,” Daddy said. “I hate to do it, but I don’t know that I’ve got much choice.”
“She gonna fight you?” Uncle Gus asked.
“Might just.” Daddy sighed. “I can’t take care of her anymore. Not the way she is right now.”
Uncle Gus nodded. “You know I hate bein’ nosy, Tom.”
“I don’t mind telling you,” Daddy said. “She went in to have a bath. Something didn’t feel right.”
Daddy patted his chest.
“I never have been one to get a feeling about something,” he said. “Not like that. But I went in to see that she was all right.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck and shook his head.
“Gus, she had my shaving razor,” Daddy went on. “I swear, I thought she was going to cut herself with it. Fixing to kill herself.”
“You really think she would?” Uncle Gus asked.
“Can’t be sure. But I wouldn’t doubt it. Not the way she’s been talking lately.”
I thought of Mr. Jones, Ray’s father. How he’d sat in his broken down jalopy with his gun between his legs, the end of it pointed right up under his chin. He’d wanted to die so bad, but Daddy didn’t let him. Not that day at least. But Mr. Jones had found a way.
One thing I’d learned was that if somebody wanted to die badly enough, they found a way.
“Abe’s been sending her letters,” he said. “I found a stack of them in her drawer.”
“Oh, Tom,” Uncle Gus said.
“I think she’s just so twisted around, she doesn’t know how to feel,” Daddy said. “She’s not herself.”
“You’re leavin’ tomorrow?” Uncle Gus asked.
“Planning to,” Daddy answered. “Might be gone a couple of days. Winston told me to take my time.”
“We’re happy to keep the kids long as you need us to,” Uncle Gus said. “Carrie and me, we sure like havin’ them around.”
“Thanks, Gus. I best get going. Mrs. Barnett’s looking after Mary for a while. I should relieve her.”
“You get some sleep if you can.”
“Feels like I haven’t slept for two years, Gus.”
“I know it. Maybe when she’s somewhere safe you can,” Uncle Gus said.
“I hope so. I’m worn down.”
“You’re doin’ the right thing. You are.”
Daddy stood, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him. His shoulders were slumped and his face was sunk in. I didn’t know that he’d been eating much, he looked so thin.
I thought of the time he told me about his father. He’d been so sick he’d slimmed down to almost nothing. He’d wasted away. Seemed worry was the sickness that was wasting Daddy away. It sure made my stomach ache to think of it.
He saw me standing there at the bottom of the steps in my nightie with the robe slung around my shoulders.
“Darlin’?” Daddy said.
Uncle Gus nodded at Daddy and said he’d give us a couple minutes to ourselves.
“When can we go home?” I asked.
“Not yet, darlin’,” he answered. “Not yet. But soon. All right?”
I told him it was all right. But that was a lie.