The Cotton Queen (21 page)

“You did not kill him, Babs,” Acee said.

“I did,” I insisted. “From the moment I knew he was inside me, I wanted him dead. I was so afraid that someone would find out where he came from. Someone would suspect that he was conceived out of wedlock. Someone would think that I’d had sex without marriage. What a stupid crazy deceit. Here we are twenty years later and people brag about doing it. I was so ashamed. I was so dirty. I didn’t want him to live. I didn’t eat, I bound myself up. I pretended that I wasn’t pregnant with him. Because I hated him. I hated him until the day he was born.”

“Babs, oh Babs,” Acee said. “He had a heart defect. That didn’t happen because of anything that you did. It was hereditary. It was there already and nothing you did or did not do would have made any difference.”

“But I could have loved him,” I said. “If I’d been a decent person, if I hadn’t been so frightened I could have loved him. He was not someone else, not anyone’s son. He was just himself, our little Marley and all those months he was in my body I didn’t know that. I thought...I thought he was...I thought he was someone else.”

Acee held me in my sorrow. After a few minutes, I got ahold of myself. He gave me his handkerchief and I blew my nose.

“Sorry,” I said.

“You did love him,” he said. “You think you held back, but I was there, Babs. I saw you hold him, feed him, caress him. I knew that you loved him. And he did, too.”

“He was too little to know anything.”

“Even a newborn feels a mother’s love,” he said.

I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.

He shook his head. “You never cried for him, you know,” he said. “I always wondered why you never cried for him.”

“Guilt,” I answered. “I felt such guilt about him that I just couldn’t cry.”

“I guess you’ve finally punished yourself enough,” he said.

We sat there together on the grass for a few more minutes. He nodded toward the nearby gravestone. “That’s Tom,” he said. “Would you like me to leave you alone for a few moments to be with him?”

I glanced over and then shook my head. “No, that’s okay,” I told him. “I have no guilt about Tom. I loved Tom.”

“I was always jealous of him,” Acee said. “He got the girl that I wanted.”

I nodded. “The runner-up for Cotton Queen,” I said.

He shook his head. “That lively, laughing, daring, optimistic young woman whose effervescence could hardly be contained in the staid traditions of the Cotton Queen coronation. That’s who I fell in love with.”

I shook my head. “I hardly even remember that young girl,” I told him. “I’m not sure that was me.”

“It was, Babs,” he said. “I know it was.” He sighed, heavily. “I guess some people are just meant for one person. Tom was your soul mate. He brought out all the luster in you. And when he died, you just could never give your heart to anyone again.”

His words caught me off guard somehow. I lost the drift of the conversation for a moment, unsure who he was talking about. I sat in silence, soaking it in.

“Is that what you think?” I asked finally, incredulously.

“What?”

“Is that what you think was changed in me,” I said. “That Tom died and I was nothing without him.”

“I didn’t mean it quite that way,” Acee said.

“I loved Tom,” I said. “He was a good husband. But his existence didn’t make me more than I was. Losing him was a tragedy, but I was still capable of loving, caring, living. I know that I’m just an empty shell now. That for all I did to make your home happy and your career successful, I was never really much of a wife, but I can’t have you blame Tom for that.”

“I wasn’t blaming Tom,” Acee said, hurriedly. “I know there was that incident, when...when you were forced.”

“I was raped, Acee,” I told him. “I told you that I was forced. But the word ‘force’ doesn’t describe it. It was rape. One night in my own house on my own kitchen table with my baby girl asleep in the other room. A man who I thought was a friend forced his body into mine against my will. That’s it. That’s my story. That’s why I could never love you. That awful sex therapist was right about that. I can’t bear to be touched.”

“I’m so sorry, Babs,” he responded.

“I can’t believe that I just told you that,” I said. “All these years, I have never said it aloud.”

“You never talked to anyone about it?”

I shook my head. “Not anyone,” I repeated. “Not Aunt Maxine. Not the doctor. Not even the psychologists or Brother Chet. No one.”

“And not me,” Acee said.

“No, not you, either,” I agreed. “I couldn’t say it aloud. I tried never to think about it. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I can’t imagine how I ever voiced it. Now that it’s out, I don’t know how I ever kept my silence.”

“I wish you would have trusted me with it, Babs,” he said, quietly. “Maybe if I’d known we might have had a chance.”

“I think he ruined any chance I might have ever had,” I told him.

“Would you still have married me if that had never happened?” he asked.

It was a strange question to ponder.

“Yes, I think so,” I answered.

“The truth is, we’ll never know,” he said.

“No, I guess we won’t.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you, Babs,” Acee said. “I hate that such violence and cruelty ever touched your life. But I’ll never regret the time we had together.”

L
ANEY

M
Y
GRADUATION
was strangely anticlimactic. With all our friends out working in the world, I felt slightly out of step and left behind. I would have been fine just to ignore the day completely. It wasn’t mandatory that I attend commencement and my degree would come in the mail. Robert and I could privately open a bottle of champagne to toast my success.

That was, of course, not at all how it was going to be. My mother drove down to Houston, this time bringing along party plans. The entire family would be coming to share the event. Aunt Maxine, Renny, Pete and the twins, along with their spouses and children, even Acee and Dorrie and their boys. Babs spoke with Robert about our friends and before I realized what was happening virtually everyone that we knew was on the guest list. And almost all of them planned to attend. The big holdouts, and this was, of course, significant, were Robert’s parents. Mr. and Mrs. Jerrod had yet to acknowledge me in any way as Robert’s partner. I was simply his girlfriend. No, it was worse than that, I was his live-in girlfriend who they were hoping he would dump for some nice, old-fashioned virgin.

I was hurt at their refusal to come, but I put on a big smile and pretended it was fine. Of course, this was exactly what Babs had warned me about. That even if I thought living together was perfectly okay, there would be plenty of people who wouldn’t be so laissez-faire, who would judge me harshly and I would have no recourse but to put up with it.

Fortunately my mother didn’t say, “I told you so.” Quite to the contrary she rallied to my defense.

“Let me give his mother a call,” she said. “A personal invitation might sit better.”

I had my doubts. And as Babs schmoozed and cajoled Mrs. Jerrod, I could tell that it wasn’t all going as well as she’d hoped.

“Oh, I do understand, I do,” my mother said to his mother on the other end of the line. Babs’s huge smile of false geniality was projected through her voice. “Yes, schedules do get crowded this time of year. And it will all be fine. In fact, it might even work out better. There are so many people coming from Robert’s company and even some of his clients. They are certainly not the kind of people you’re accustomed to in Pearland. And I know you’d never want to put your brilliant, successful son at any social disadvantage.”

My jaw dropped open. But I was more quick-witted than Mrs. Jerrod who apparently didn’t realize that she’d been dealt a very choice and elegant insult until after my charming mother had said goodbye and hung up the phone.

Babs turned to me, her expression transformed to extreme annoyance.

“Your future mother-in-law is a self-righteous, ignorant twit,” she told me. “Keep that in mind if you have children. You’ll want to overcome any inherited traits as quickly as you can.”

I laughed. But the term future mother-in-law was beginning to sound really good to my ears. I had not minded living with Robert. I felt like our commitment was as strong as any marriage. But, as I finished school, ready to set out in the world, my feelings changed. We’d made our point about not being restricted by the repressed mores of our parents’ generation. And we proved that we were together for better reasons than just a piece of paper. But I was beginning to question why it couldn’t just be a marriage.

I wasn’t angling for six bridesmaids and a white dress, and I wasn’t interested in changing my name, but didn’t see any reason why it shouldn’t happen. At the very least, it would give me legal standing in Robert’s life. And hopefully it would be more. It would be a public declaration of our love and commitment to each other.

I had not said anything to Robert to clue him in on my thoughts, but I was optimistic that he was thinking along the same lines. And I was hoping, wishing, that as a graduation gift, he’d bought me an engagement ring.

The day was typical for Houston in May, stifling hot and unbearably humid. We all took the six-block walk to the stadium to avoid the nuisance of having to park. It was a curious feeling having all these relatives suddenly thrust into the mini-universe that I’d created with Robert. They seemed accepting of him, friendly with him. He appeared somewhat stilted and cold. I was unaccustomed to being around people who were close to me. Perhaps for the first time, it occurred to me that all our friends were actually Robert’s friends. I rarely saw any of my personal girlfriends, outside of class. The only acquaintance of mine who’d ever even been to the house was Carl Anne. Even she made a point of visiting when Robert wasn’t there and left quickly as soon as he showed up.

I shrugged off the unwelcome realization with a reasonable rationalization. In any relationship there will be a more dominant person. Just because Robert was that dominant person, didn’t mean that his friends weren’t my friends, as well.

“So, have you lined up a job yet?” Pete asked me. “We could really use somebody like you.”

“Did Babs tell you to suggest that?”

“Babs? No.”

“That’s exactly what she’d want,” I told him. “There is nothing she’d like more than for me to get a job that would move me back to McKinney.”

Pete shrugged. “Well, it’s a growing place, lots of good stuff happening out on the expressway, a Texas version of Silicon Valley. It’s not like you’d have to live downtown. We have hundreds of employees who don’t set foot on the square twice a year.”

“It’s a great place,” I agreed. “But Houston is really bursting at the seams, too. It’s all so dynamic now and Robert is here.”

“Ah...Robert,” Pete said, glancing back to see him in conversation with Acee. “When is he going to make an honest woman of you?” he teased.

“I am a very honest woman,” I assured him.

He chuckled. “That’s why I’d like to have you in my company,” he said. “Whether Babs would like it or not.”

My family took their seats in the bleachers, while I found my chair on the field. From that distance, I’m sure I was unrecognizable from the other hundreds of robed and mortar-boarded graduates. Standing out among the sea of unrelieved black were yellow ribbons blowing in the breeze from every conceivable location. With the Americans held captive in our embassy in Tehran, their fate and the fate of our nation, was not far from anyone’s mind. But all of the commencement speakers were upbeat, eager and optimistic.

I lined up to hear my name read and walked across the stage. I shook hands with the deans and the speakers and accepted an empty leather folder; the actual certificates would be mailed to us.

After we’d thrown our hats in the air and hugged each other goodbye, I met up with my family at a prearranged location across the street. To my delight, I’d acquired two more guests. Nicie and Cheryl were among the group. I hugged them both eagerly.

“Brian and I had planned to come,” Nicie told me. “Then at the last minute he canceled. I got Cheryl to drive down with me.”

“That’s great,” I said. “It’s so good to see you.”

It
was
good to see her. And it was interesting, as well. Nicie had the life my mother had wanted for me. She’d gone to community college in McKinney and was now engaged. She seemed very happy with that.

“Let’s see this diamond,” I said, picking up her hand.

Her ring was big and shiny and bright, everything that it should be. I made a fuss over it and encouraged everyone else to do the same. That actually worked out well. I felt more confident when all the attention wasn’t focused on me.

As we headed back to the house, Cheryl fell in beside me. We chatted amiably for a few minutes. I asked her about her life. Cheryl was living in her own apartment in Dallas, working for a utility company. She seemed pretty happy.

“Your guy is really a hunk,” she told me.

“Thanks. I think so, too.”

“Is it serious between you two?”

I gave her a look of disbelief. “Cheryl, we’re living together. You’d have to call that rather serious.”

She shrugged. “A shack-up is just a shack-up,” she said. “It’s a perfect setup for guys. If I were you, I wouldn’t get my heart set on anything permanent.”

“Well, thank you, Cheryl,” I said sarcastically. “If you ever get to be me, then you can take your own advice.”

I excused myself and hurried up ahead. I snagged Renny’s arm. He smiled at me.

“Congratulations, kid,” he said.

“Thanks. And congrats to you, too.”

“To me?”

“For moving back to McKinney,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “Too good, really. I like the work I’m doing. I’d gotten so used to being a nobody from nowhere. It’s really kind of uplifting to walk downtown and have people know my name, ask about business. I feel like somebody again. It’s great having the house. My ex is going to let the kids come out to spend some time with me this summer.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, it’s all great,” he said. “Even being in the same town as Pete is not so bad. We won’t ever be friends. We don’t have anything in common except family, but I don’t mind him so much anymore.”

We arrived at the house and I was barely able to change my clothes before being absorbed into the giant party. The worst thing about having a gathering of a hundred people you’d really like to talk to, is that there is very little chance of getting to talk to anyone more than a couple of seconds.

There were our friends, clustered together at a table in the backyard. They were all heavily invested in wine drinking, the guys smoking expensive cigars. The women were equally as game and talking just as tough. There was lots of joking and laughing going on, but I was too distracted to keep up with the direction of the conversation.

I talked to Doris for a few minutes. Acee’s new wife was not her typical loud, boisterous self. She seemed a bit intimidated by the company. I’d always liked her around town, but could never honestly see her and Acee as a couple. But they do say opposites attract and if she suited Acee, then she suited me. Apparently a little uncertain about her place in the celebration, she fell back on her former vocation and began passing plates of hors d’oeuvres and getting drinks for everyone.

“You don’t have to do that,” I assured her. “You’re a guest.”

She patted me on the hand and flashed me that big toothy smile. “It gives me something to do, honey. I’ve been slinging hash so long, it’s second nature to me.”

“Well, you needn’t sling hash for me,” I said.

“It’s an honor,” she said. “Acee is so proud of you. He thinks of you just like a daughter.”

I nodded. “He’s really the only father I’ve ever known,” I told her.

“Your real daddy, Tom, he was a nice genuine guy,” Doris said. “I know everybody says you’re just like your mama, but I see plenty of Tom Hoffman in you.”

The last part of that statement sort of muddled in my mind as I took offense at the beginning. “I’m not anything like my mother,” I assured her. “I’m not anything like her at all.”

As the party progressed I chatted with Acee, the twins and their husbands, Pete’s wife, all of the kids from little Janey’s youngest, a toddler, to Doris’s teenagers. Nicie regaled me with all the latest plans for her June wedding. Aunt Maxine gave me the current contracting woes of the new Senior Retirement Village she was having built out on the Loop. I was interested in all of it and wanted to talk to everyone, but not all on the same day.

I was making a retreat to the bathroom when my former roommate, Carl Anne, caught up with me.

“Listen, I just wanted to check,” she said, glancing around to make sure that we were alone. “Your friendship is like really important to me.”

“Yeah? For me, too,” I assured her.

“You know I wouldn’t want to risk it for anything, so I thought I’d run it by you first, to see what you think.”

“Run what by me?”

“I’m...well, I’m thinking about making a play for your cousin,” she said. “Are you cool with that? I mean, I won’t so much as wink if it bothers you. But if it’s no big deal for you, I’d like to make a move.”

“My cousin? Renny?”

“No.”

“I hope it’s not Pete, Pete’s married.”

“What are you talking about? Renny? Pete? This is me, Carl Anne,” she said. “I’m thinking about making a play for your cousin, Cheryl.”

“Cheryl?” I was stunned. “Carl Anne, I don’t believe Cheryl is gay.”

She chuckled. “Lots of folks don’t believe the earth is round, but it keeps spinning on its axis all the same.”

At that point I began to suspect that my own world must be hurtling out through space. I gave Carl Anne my blessing and went on to the bathroom. What I found there was not pleasant.

Hilary, one of Robert’s friends and the housemate of Robert’s best buddy, Greg, was splashing her face with cold water. The room reeked of vomit.

“Sorry,” she said, before I even made a comment.

“There’s a little candle here,” I told her. “I’ll light it and the place will be back to vanilla bean before you notice.” I hated the sound of my own voice. It sounded like my mother on a hostess high. “Too much wine?”

She shook her head. “None at all.”

My brow furrowed.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

I was so surprised I’m sure my jaw dropped open like some cartoon character. It was very hard to imagine this edgy, hard-nosed businesswoman as somebody’s mommy.

“Oh, Hilary, that’s wonderful!” I managed after a moment.

She waved away my congratulations. I realized that she was crying.

“Don’t say anything to anybody,” she said. “Not even to me.”

“No, no, of course not, if you don’t want me to.”

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to keep it,” she said. “It’s just the worst possible time. I have this absolutely incredible deal with Stinson Intercont and the next twelve months will make it or break it. I don’t have the kind of career where I can take maternity leave.”

I nodded sympathetically.

“What does Greg say?” I asked.

Hilary gave a derisive snort and laughed as she shook her head. “Oh, he’s a lot of help. He said, ‘I thought you were on the goddamned pill.’”

Greg’s attitude should have surprised me, but it didn’t.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I just don’t know. How can I do this? How can I throw away everything I’ve worked so hard for? How can I just give up the biggest deal I’ve ever seen to become Mommy and bake cookies for the PTA?”