CHAPTER 55

Beaumont was a small, quiet, country community about an hour’s drive from Houston. Yolanda and Maxwell talked all the way there. He eventually turned into a small dirt road and drove into a huge field filled with hundreds of people milling about eating, drinking beers, dancing or just sitting around playing cards and dominoes.

“You have a big family,” Yolanda said, nervous. She felt overdressed when she noticed everyone wearing jeans with red shirts that said ‘Alexander Family Reunion’ on the front. Stupid Natalie. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this dress.

“It’s pretty big. They’re good people; you’ll fit right in. Come on,” Maxwell said, getting out of his Hummer.

Yolanda opened her door and stood by the truck. I don’t feel right about this. I don’t belong…

“Come on. You can’t stand there all day,” he said, grabbing her hand.

“Let me introduce you to everybody…”

“Hey, Max! Max, that’s you?” a voice boomed from behind them.

Maxwell turned.

“Hey, Uncle Leroy! What’s up!” he said, dropping Yolanda’s hand to give him a big bear hug.

“Boy, you lookin’ grown. Lookin’ just like your daddy. What you been up to? Still cutting hair?”

“Naw, I’m manager now.”

“What you say! You doing really good. Who is this with you?” Uncle Leroy asked, pointing to Yolanda.

“Oh, she’s my…friend. My co-worker. This is Yolanda,” he said awkwardly.

Uncle Leroy shook Yolanda’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, grinning widely.

“This is my dad’s brother,” Maxwell said.

“I can see the resemblance.”

“Hey, baby, where you want this ice to go?” a short, plump woman asked. Yolanda could only assume she was Leroy’s wife.

“Put that down a minute and come over here and see your nephew.”

“Max! That’s you? Boy, come over here and give me some sugar!” she screeched.

Maxwell walked over like a shy schoolboy and gave her a hug and kiss on both cheeks.

“It’s good to see you! You just get here?”

“Yeah, a couple of minutes ago.”

“Loretta, quit manhandling the boy and come over here. He brought somebody with him. What you say your name was?”

“Yolanda.”

“Her name’s Veranda.”

“Well, hello, Veranda!” Loretta said, giving Yolanda a hug.

“It’s Yolanda,” she said, barely able to breathe as Loretta hugged her tightly. Her make-up was tacky and overdone. Her thin eyebrows were dark and artificial, and her red blush was stenciled in two perfect round circles on her cheeks. Her pink lipstick was lined with a black lip liner and her lipstick was thick as buttermilk biscuits. Yolanda could scrape off one coat of that lipstick and it would be enough for all the women at the reunion to have pink shiny lips.

“Girl, you ain’t nothin’ but skin and bones! I feel like I could just break you in half! But you sure do have a pretty face. Don’t, she Leroy? Don’t she have a pretty face?”

“Sure do.”

“Thank you,” Yolanda said. I hate when people say I have a pretty face. Why can’t they just say I’m pretty?

“Why are y’all talking in this circle acting all antisocial? Y’all need to mingle or something.”

“Hey, Pop,” Maxwell said, giving his father a hug.

“Well, where is she? Where is this girl of yours?” his father asked.

Is that how Maxwell described me? As his girl?

“She’s right here!” Loretta said smiling. “Ain’t she got a pretty face, Ray?”

Ray turned and looked at Yolanda.

“Her face is all right, but where’s the rest of her? She ain’t got—”

“Oh, hush!” Loretta said, coming to Yolanda’s aid. “Let’s go over here to this pit, Yancey, and get you something to eat.”

“It’s Yolanda. And I’m fine.”

“Please get something to eat, girl. You look so hungry you makin’ me hungry,” Maxwell’s father said.

“Pop…” Maxwell warned.

“What?”

“That’s enough.”

I’m so sick and tired of all the comments about my weight! I want to go home. Why didn’t Maxwell prepare me for this? I wish I had some jeans on…

“Come on, lemme introduce you to the women side of the family.”

“Um, I don’t know. I should probably stay with Maxwell…”

“Girl, gone and go! Maxwell don’t want to be around you!” Ray said. “Go with Loretta.”

She looked at Maxwell. He nodded his consent, and she let Loretta lead her to the other side of the field.

“What’cha want on your plate?” Loretta asked.

“I don’t know. A little bit of everything, I guess.”

“Now don’t you worry one bit about what Ray said. He always saying something negative about somebody. He didn’t used to be like that. He changed after Clarice died. Tore him up to watch his wife die like that. Yes, indeedy, when Clarice died she took the best of him with her. Now, go sit in one of those chairs over there. I’m gonna fix your plate for ya.”

Yolanda looked over to where Loretta was pointing. It was a huge group of women sitting around talking and laughing, balancing huge plates of food on their laps.

“Go on now, chile. They ain’t gonna do nothin’. I’ll be right over there.”

She walked over to the group of women. They were all beautiful in different ways and all had the body Yolanda dreamed about: thick and curvy in all the right places. She sat down in a green plastic chair.

“Hello.”

“Hey,” some of them said, looking at her curiously.

“Who did you come with?” one of them asked.

“Maxwell.”

She burst out laughing.

“No, really. Who did you come with?”

Yolanda shifted in her seat.

“Maxwell.”

“He brought you?” another asked, looking disgusting.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Yolanda countered, defensively.

“No, but he probably does,” the girl said viciously, taking a swig of her beer. They all cackled.

Loretta arrived with Yolanda’s plate of food and a cold beer.

“So I see y’all getting along over here. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” the women said, still giggling.

“Did y’all introduce yourselves?”

“Not really,” one of the women answered.

“Well, this here is Yorna, Maxwell’s friend…”

“Yolanda,” she corrected.

“Sorry. These are all my cousins and nieces.”

Yolanda barely listened as Loretta rattled off names. She didn’t really care either.

“Excuse me, Loretta? Where’s the bathroom?” Yolanda asked, needing an excuse to get away from these truly awful women.

“Further down, in that house down there.”

“Thanks,” Yolanda said, taking her food and her beer. She looked for a quiet place to sit and found one by a tree. A huge knot had formed in her throat, but she ate her food anyway, trying to appear too busy eating to need or want conversation.

Where is Maxwell? Why isn’t he looking for me? He should know that I would feel awkward in a situation like this. He’s always leaving me alone…

“You want another beer?”

“No thanks,” she said, looking up as Maxwell’s father pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

“Nice day,” he said, looking up at the sky.

“Yes, it is,” Yolanda agreed.

“Why you sitting over here by yourself?”

She shrugged.

“I’ll tell you why. It’s because you don’t fit in here, especially with my son. I mean, look at you! You weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, Yannie.”

“It’s Yolanda,” she said, close to tears.

“It don’t really matter. I ain’t gonna see you again. I don’t know why my son brought you here. I can’t figure out what he sees in you. Maybe you helping him get his mind off Theresa. But looking at you,” he said, giving Yolanda a disapproving glance, “I wouldn’t think so. But I’m gonna save you a lot of heartache right now. Leave my son alone. Y’all don’t look right together; you just ain’t his type. You ain’t good enough. Man like that needs a real looker, a trophy, and frankly you don’t cut the mustard. I was hoping he was bringing his old girlfriend, Theresa. Now she was fine.”

Yolanda swiped at a tear.

“Now don’t get your feelings hurt; I’m doing you a world of good. I know for a fact he’s not interested in you, not like that, anyway. He couldn’t be,” he said, rolling a toothpick around in his mouth.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yolanda said, her voice shaking.

“Oh, I don’t, huh? Well, if he likes you so much, where is he? Why ain’t he here with you?”

Yolanda put her head down.

“He ain’t with you because he’s ‘shamed of you. Don’t want nobody to know he with you. He’s a smart man. If I was with you, which I wouldn’t be, I wouldn’t want to be seen with you, either.”

He got up and walked away, leaving Yolanda reeling from his casually spoken cruel words.

* * *

“I wanna go home.”

“What? Now? We’ve only been here a little over an hour.”

“Please, Maxwell, I want to go home. I’m not feeling well,” Yolanda said, clutching her stomach. It took her almost thirty minutes to find him. I’m sick of this place, all these people, all these comments. I just want to crawl into my bed and cry.

“Okay,” Maxwell said, “ but let me say good-bye to a few people first.”

“No, Maxwell, now. I want to go home right now.”

He stood up, gave her a look, and grabbed his truck keys off the card table.

She practically ran to his truck, not caring if he was behind her. I have to get away…

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, catching up and grabbing Yolanda’s arm.

“Nothing,” she said, snatching her arm away and getting into the truck.

He got in and backed the truck out of the family reunion. Soon they were back on the freeway, heading back to Houston.

“I’m gonna ask you again, Yolanda, what’s wrong?”

Yolanda said nothing. She stared blankly out the window, not trusting herself to speak.

“Did you eat something bad? What is it?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing with me? Why do you keep asking me out? What do you want?”

“Whoa, slow down. I told you I want to get to know you better.”

“Bull. What’s the real reason?”

“I enjoy your company.”

“How can you enjoy my company when you’re never with me?”

“I am with you.”

“No you’re not. You’re always somewhere else. You act like you’re ashamed of me or something.”

Maxwell was silent.

“Is that it? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

He kept driving.

“No,” he said finally, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Then what is it?”

“I haven’t figured out what to do with you yet.”

“What to do with me? Be a man and tell me the truth! You are ashamed of me!”

“No! Maybe…sometimes…”

“Well, I’ll do both of us a favor. Stop calling me. Find somebody else to mess with.”

She turned on the radio and moved as far away from him as possible, leaving no space between her and the truck door.

“Please, Yolanda, I still want to talk…”

“Shut up, Maxwell,” Yolanda said, looking out the window. “Just shut up.”