A Day Late And A Dollar Short Part 15

"Well, I'll ask her about it in the morning."

Mama grabs my arm. "I just asked you not to say nothing about Shanice and no drinking."

"1 won't. I'll ask her why George is gone and if she's planning to take him back, if he comes back."

"He'll be back," she says, and rolls over on her side. "I'm going to sleep now. So, if you got something else to say, you'll be talking to yourself. Good night."

It's hard to get to sleep. I toss and turn and then slide ofF the bed, reach for my purse, and feel inside until I find my pills. I almost step on Dingus when I go out to the living room. He's rolled up inside a few sheets and a small flannel blanket Mama must've taken from an airplane. Lewis is conked out on the couch. From the kitchen, I hear a gla.s.s clink against the inside of the sink. Shanice appears, in the same shorts she had on earlier and a light-pink tank top. "What are you doing up so late?" I ask. She of course is surprised to see me.

"I was thirsty. Needed some water," she mumbles fast.

I walk over to her and she beelines it toward the room she and Janelle are sharing. "Wait a minute," I say.

"What is it, Aunt Paris?" Her back is toward me.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"All right, then. Good night."

" 'Night," she says, and clashes into the hall bathroom. I hear the faucet come on and, a few minutes later, the toilet flush. In the kitchen I see a clear blue gla.s.s lying on its side in the middle of the stainless-steel basin. I place the pill on my tongue while I pick up the gla.s.s and take a whiff. It hurts when I smell that Tropical Breeze cooler, but I swallow the pill dry and go on back to bed.

I wake up to the smell of bacon and loud rap music. Mania's already up. 1 don't feel like moving, really. There's a tap tap tap at the door. "I'm up," I say.

"Can I come in?" Janelle asks.

"No, stay out there and talk to me through the door."

She eases it open and the phone rings at the same time. I hear Mama yell, "I got it!" from the kitchen. I look at the clock. It's just barely eight-thirty.

"What's up?" I ask. Janelle looks sullen, despite the white sweatsuit. Her hair is in a ponytail and she's got on dark-pink lipstick. With that against her dark skin, she looks like a Somalian Barbie. If I'm not mistaken, it also looks like she could stand to lose a few pounds. I dare not say anything or she'll freak out. "Sit," I say. "No, wait. Come on into the bathroom while I brush my teeth."

"Dingus!" Mama yells. "A girl name Meagan is calling you!"

I stop dead in my tracks and Janelle b.u.mps into me from behind. Her b.o.o.bs feel bigger.

"Paris, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Just a second." I go over to the door to see if Dingus is still asleep. He is. Lewis is nowhere in sight. If I didn't have an audience I'd get on that phone and put this little b.i.t.c.h in her place and then maybe kick the h.e.l.l out of my son for putdng us both in such a precarious situation. On the ride here I was too busy worrying about Mama to bring the subject up, and even though it was taking up a big chunk of my mind, I decided to wait until we leave to deal with this issue. Now is not the time or the right circ.u.mstances to mention it, because not only would Mama be heartbroken, but this kind of news could put her back in the hospital. I still give him a stiff kick in his a.s.s. "Ouch! Ma, dag! What's wrong?"

"What's so important that this girl has to call you here?"

"Who?"

"Meagan. That's who."

"I don't know."

"You and I both know you know. And I suggest you handle it now or suffer the consequences."

"I don't have a clue about what you're talking about, Ma. Granny, would you ask her if I can call her back later, please?"

"You ain't making no long-distance calls on this phone. Period. Paris, come talk to this girl, would you?"

"No!" Dingus says. "Never mind. I'll talk to her." "What we doing today, Paris? Wanna go to the mall?" "Mama, are you supposed to be walking and doing stuff already?" "I feel good. 1 don't wanna sit in here all day looking stupid. We need to do something. What time y'all leaving?" "My plane leaves early tomorrow morning." "Please get a seat on it for your brother." "Where is he, by the way?" "Said he went to work. And don't ask."

I shake my head and head back toward the bedroom, but stop at the door when I hear Mama say, "All I know is, he better bring my d.a.m.n car back in one piece."

"You shouldn't let him drive it, Mama."

"I know. But it's too far and too frigging hot to walk anywhere, and with his arthritis acting up and all." "His what?"

"Maybe he ain't been lying about it. His right knee is all puffed up, and you should see his elbows and wrists, Paris. They look like big knots. Even two of his fingers is getting crooked."

"Really? I just thought he's been faking these past couple of years. That he's just been complaining to get some sympathy and using it as an excuse so he wouldn't have to work." "I saw it with my own eyes." "Then why doesn't he go to a doctor?"

"He said he's been to three or four, but all they do is give him this medicine that messes up his stomach. He said Tylenol works, sometimes. And he took four of 'em at one time. Why don't you give him one or two of your Advils!

Is she trying to be funny? "I'll ask him if he wants to try one when he gets back. Where's Shanice?"

"Still sleep!" Janelle screams from the bathroom. She's sitting on the edge of the bathtub when I get back, fidgeting with Mama's shower curtain with tropical fish swimming behind her. "I guess she was beat."

"I know she was," I say, and get out a brand-new toothbrush from under the sink.

"What are we going to do for Mama's birthday?"

"That's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes."

"That's it?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Then what?" I ask.

"First, do you have any ideas what we could do?"

"Well, I was thinking about asking if she wanted to come up for a few weeks, which we know the answer to that already. Plus, I might have to go to London for four or five days. She could hang out with Dingus, maybe spend a week with you."

"I'm not sure what my situation is going to be like yet."

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, what's the deal with George? Have you guys really split up?"

"Probably."

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm still far too p.i.s.sed."

"He didn't touch Shanice, did he?"

"No," she says, dryly.

"You wouldn't lie about some s.h.i.+t like this, would you, Janelle, seriously?"

"No, I wouldn't. But I don't feel like talking about George right now, Paris, okay?"

"Are you pregnant?" She looks shocked by my question.

"What would make you ask that?" Her eyes are black and gla.s.sy. Like she's going to break down any minute.

"Well, you look like you've gained weight and your b.o.o.bs are bigger."

"So what? Yours are, too."

"Yeah, but I bought mine."

"What?"

"I got implants."

"When? Why didn't you tell me? Let me see!" I lift up my pajama top and show these beauties off. "d.a.m.n," she says, staring. "They're humongous!" "They are not. I'm a 34-D. That's it." I cup them with both hands, then let them go. They don't move. Janelle's hands are over her mouth. "How come you didn't tell me?" "You don't tell me all your business, now, do you?" "The important stuff."

"So are you or aren't you?" I say, dropping my top. "I don't believe this, Paris. How much did it cost?" "About five thousand, and it was worth every penny. I can actually wear tank tops again without a bra."

The phone rings. "Somebody get that!" Mama yells from the kitchen. "I'll get it," I say, and walk over to the bedside table and answer it. "h.e.l.lo," I say.

"Yeah, Paris. This is Lewis. I had a little mishap. Nothing to be too worried about, but. . ."

"Where are you, Lewis?"

When I hear him sigh, I know immediately something's wrong. "Where are you?" "In jail."

I switch the phone to my other ear. "What are you doing in jail?" "Driving without a license." "That's all?"

"And being under the influence." "The influence of what?" "Alcohol."

"It's only eleven o'clock in the morning, Lewis!"

"I know what time it is. I just went down to the place where the guy said he was gon' hire me, and he wasn't there, and this other guy was waiting on him, too, and he had a taste, and I started sipping with him, and then he decided not to wait and asked me for a lift home, and I gave him one, and we got stopped."

"Where's Mama's car?"

"They impounded it."

"She's going to be p.i.s.sed."

"I know, but could you or somebody come bail me out, please?"

"s.h.i.+t, Lewis. Mama just got home yesterday and look what you're doing."

"I don't need a lecture right now, Paris. Can you or can you not come and get me out?"

"How much is bail?"

"Two thousand."

"Dollars?"

"All you have to do is put up two hundred. I'll pay you back, don't worry."

"Yeah, sure. I'll hold my breath. Give me an hour."

"Make it two. I have to stay here for at least four hours. They wanna make sure I'm sober, which, believe me, I am. Thanks, sis."

"And I've got nothing but love for you, too," I say and hang up.

"I heard," Janelle said. "Don't tell Mama, just go get him."

"So?" I say, looking at her stomach.

"No, I am not pregnant," she says.

"Come with me," I say.

"Okay," she says, but doesn't move.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"I'm listening," she says.

"Have you noticed anything different about Shanice's behavior?"

"I certainly have," she says. "And I'm going to get her some counseling."

"So you've caught her doing it?"

"Doing what?"

"Drinking."

"Drinking what?" Janelle asks, stunned.