Family Thang (14 page)

Even if the judge granted me everything, Lester would have to continue paying the bills.

She grabbed Teddy, a white teddy bear with blue eyes, and curled up in a fetal position. She imagined Lester taking the witness stand, the corners of his mouth turned down…and that would be all she wrote. One look at Lester’s mouth and the judge would grant him the whole shebang.

“This is terrible,” she whispered to Teddy. “Terrible!”

The bedroom door opened and Lester entered, wearing his work clothes, tan cotton shirt and pants.

At a distance Lester was a handsome man. Trim. Dark chocolate-colored skin. A small afro kept neatly trimmed. Up close…well, by no means could Lester be considered ugly, especially if the focus centered on his nose and eyes.

Who can do that? Ruth Ann wondered.
Who
can look in  a person’s face and not look at the mouth?

“Ruthie, honey,” Lester said, “is everything okay?”

Ruth Ann studied his mouth as he spoke. Perfect in size and shape, but a pinkish-white circle covered it.
At least he has the sense to forego a moustache.

She looked away. “I’m fine,” though feeling the urge to cry.

He came closer and she could smell the Polo cologne he favored. “I’m here for you, Ruthie. I’ll always be here for you.” He sat on the bed. She hugged Teddy tighter. He leaned over and buried his face in her hair. “Forever.”

This made her want to cry even more. “I know you will.”

“I love you, Ruthie,” the words tickling her neck.

She knew she should say I love you, too, but couldn’t force herself to utter the words. In fact, she hadn’t told him those words in a long time, though Lester said them daily.

Lester released her and reared back, feigning astonishment. “Baby, you’re s’posed to say I love you, too, Lester.”

Ruth Ann closed her eyes. “You know I do.”

“It would be nice to hear you say it every now and again, you know. I hate to whine, but it would really be nice to hear you say it.”

Ruth Ann opened her eyes and studied the window curtains. Priscillas, gray trim. She remembered the day she bought them and hung them up. 

“Watch my lips,” Lester said.

Has he lost his mind?
His lips were the last thing in the world she wanted to look at.

Lester touched his lips, actually put a finger on the mark, the mark that couldn’t be washed off, a permanent reminder of his idiocy, his stupidity, his infidelity. “Come on, honey, watch my lips.”

Yes, he’s lost his mind!

“I…love…you…Lester,” he said.

Completely!

“You and I together. I…love…you.”

Ruth Ann mouthed the words.

“A little louder,” Lester insisted. “I…love…you.”

“I love you,” she said, a whisper.

“Was that so hard?”

Yes!

“Give me a kiss, honey,” Lester said, puckering his lips.

Will this madness
n
ever end? she wondered, staring at his mouth, which now looked like an atrophied cow teat. She sat up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Lester, I haven’t brushed my teeth. Give me a minute.”

Inside the bathroom she locked the door, sat fully clothed on the commode, covered her mouth with both hands and sobbed, not certain for whom she was crying. Her daddy? Shane? Lester?

There was a knock on the door. “Ruthie?” Lester said.

She grunted in response.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

She didn’t love Lester. He was a good man, she couldn’t deny that. He loved her, truly loved her, and practically bent over backward attempting to make her happy. Still, she did not love him. Yet she needed him.

What made the situation so unfair, so damn frustrating: she needed him. Holding my breath in an out-house, she thought, desperately needing oxygen but can’t stomach the smell.

If not for that damn mark, she thought as she dabbed her eyes with tissue, I possibly could love him. She stood up and flushed the toilet, and then a thought hit her: once she got her share of the money she wouldn’t need Lester. She wouldn’t need him at all; she would be able to take care of herself, and even if she lost her house, she would have enough money to buy another one.

The first time that day
she smiled, thinking everything might work out. Lester, after a fashion, would find someone else, forget all about her. And she--her smile turned into a grin--would be free to find a man whom she could love, a man who wouldn’t foolishly burn his mouth.

She opened the door, and Lester stood there in the hallway.

“You okay?”

She nodded, avoiding his eyes.

“Come on,” taking her hand. “You need some rest.”

He led her to the bedroom and she lay down.

“Where’s Teddy?” she asked him.

Lester retrieved Teddy from the floor. “Here he is. Get some rest, Ruthie.” He sat on the edge of the bed looking at her.

What’s he waiting on?

As if reading her mind, Lester said, “Ruthie, before I go, may I have a hug?”

“Yes, Lester,” and didn’t move. Lester sat there, no doubt waiting for her to reach up and hug him.

Not in this lifetime!

Lester leaned down and hugged her. Ruth Ann held her breath. He continued hugging her as her arms lay to her sides. She groaned softly, to cue him enough was enough.

“I love you,” Lester whispered.

Another groan, much louder, and Lester started kissing her neck. Ruth Ann squirmed…and groaned again. Lester’s heartbeat thumped against her chest.

“I love you, Ruthie,” kissing her clavicle…chest…She groaned again. Lester pushed her shirt lapel away with his chin and started kissing her breast.

She heard his breathing turn into a pant and realized Lester was mistaking her groans for pleasure.

“Lester!” attempting to push him off.

He ignored her and started sucking her breast so hard it hurt.

“Lester! Lester!” His hand sought entrance inside her pants. “Lester!” Again she tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. “Lester!”

Lester stopped to unzip his pants, and Ruth Ann rolled onto her stomach. He hopped onto her and started humping so enthusiastically she heard one of the slats snap.

“Lester!” clawing her way to the edge of the bed…and they both fell to the floor.

Ruth Ann jumped to her feet and watched Lester hump the floor, his eyes closed, completely unaware he had no partner.

“Lester! What the hell are you doing?”

Mid-hump, Lester turned to her, an astonished look on his face, wondering how she’d gotten away from him.

“Hello! What the hell are you doing?”

Lester got to his feet. “I-I’m sorry, Ruthie, I got carried away.”

Shaking her head in disgust at hi
s exposed erection: “Damn right
you did!”

“I’m sorry, Ruthie.” He tucked away his organ and zipped up. “Honey, it has been a long time. Seven weeks and five days, to be exact. That’s a long time, a very long time.”

“What! What!” Ruth Ann shouted. “So we’re counting days now? Is that what we’re doing, Lester? Keeping track of our sex life?”

“No, honey, I’m not keeping track. I just, you know, noticed on the calendar.”

“I can’t believe you! How many hours has it been? You’ve calculated the number of weeks and days, tell me the number of hours. I can’t believe you! My father was murdered, hasn’t been in the ground three days and you have the gall to throw sex in my face now.
Now
, Lester! I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.” She looked at the bulge in Lester’s pants and shook her head again. “I just don’t believe it!”

Lester scratched his forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what come over me. Forgive me, Ruthie.” He reached to take her hand and she snatched it away.

“Don’t start that shit again!”

“I’m going outside, sit on the porch for a spell. If you need something, just call me.”

Ruth Ann cut him a look. “Yes, why don’t you do that!”

Lester closed the bedroom door behind him, and Ruth Ann wondered had it really been that long since she and Lester had had sex.
Seven weeks?
No, seven weeks and five days. She tried to remember the last time…couldn’t. Even if she could, what was there to remember, Lester hopping on and hopping off?
Hello!
Still, seven weeks and five days was far too long: a sex-starved Lester might get suspicious; even worse, if Eric blabbed his mouth, a sex-starved Lester might click.

A few hours later she awoke with a scream, “Noooo!” Looking about the room she realized she was safe in her bed. Shirley wasn’t chasing her down an alleyway, swinging an ax at her head.

A nightmare.

It had seemed so real. She put her hand to her chest and felt her heart beating arrhythmically. A silly nightmare, she told herself, because no way in hell would Eric tell Shirley; he’d be putting his own life at risk.

What if Shirley found out anyway?

Shirley would click, go absolutely ass-kicking berserk. She remembered when Shirley and she were waiting in the ER with six-year-old Paul, who’d broken his arm in a fall out of a tree, sitting on Shirley’s lap, whimpering.

As a nurse periodically called other patients to a room, people who looked in far better shape than Paul, Ruth Ann tried to make small talk, sensing Shirley was getting hotter by the minute. After the nurse called a man exhibiting no visible ailment whatsoever, Shirley stood up, gently put Paul in the adjoining seat…and exploded!

“You sumbitches!” she shouted. “My boy has been out here in pain for more than an hour!”

That said, the television was snatched off a stanchion and hurled across the room, landing with a thunderous crash near the entrance. A metal chair flew into the receptionist’s cubicle--the woman had fled before the television landed. The t
hree people, a man and two women
who were also waiting, ran out through a side exit…and Ruth Ann ran behind them.

In the parking lot she heard another thunderous crash and sprinted faster to her car. Three days later she saw Shirley and Paul, his arm in a cast, at Wal-Mart. Of course, she wanted to know what had transpired at the hospital, but didn’t think it wise to ask someone who’d clicked, and who in all likelihood would click again, “What happened?”

Ruth Ann sat up in bed. “Lord, what have I done? What have I done?”

There was a knock at the door. “Ruthie?” Lester said.

“Yes.”

“Someone here to see you.”