That’s a lie. I only just pushed her a little.
You slapped me in the face. I can still feel it. I feel it right now. Betty lifted her hand and caressed her cheek and Luther looked at her from across the room with slit eyes.
The children sat on the couch and appeared to be uninterested in what was being said, as if they were not involved in these matters or couldn’t affect their outcome even if they were. Studying the furniture and the pictures on the walls, they sat next to each other without so much as glancing at the three adults.
Rose stood and went to the kitchen and came back with a plate of chocolate fudge and held the plate in front of the children before offering it to Betty and Luther. She sat again. I think we all need to cool down, she said.
I just want to go to my aunt’s house, Betty said. I can cool down over there.
Does she want you to come?
We been there before.
But does she want you now?
I think she does.
Didn’t you call her?
No. Our phone ain’t working.
What’s wrong with it?
It don’t have no dial tone.
Rose looked at her. Betty sat slumped beside the children, her lank hair fallen about her pocked face, her eyes reddened. Rose turned to Luther. What do you think about this, Luther?
I think she ought to come home like she’s suppose to.
But she says she doesn’t want to be in that house right now.
I’m her husband. The Bible says man is lord of his own castle. He builds up his house on a rock. She’s suppose to mind what I say.
I don’t have to mind him, do I, Rose.
No. I think Luther’s wrong about that.
I want to go to my aunt’s house, Betty said.
WHEN THEY BACKED OUT FROM THE DRIVEWAY LUTHER was standing forlornly in the headlights, the beams sweeping across him while he looked back at them with his hands in his pockets. Overhead, above Holt, the rain seemed nearer. Betty sat in the front seat with Rose, the children in back, staring out the window at all the houses and the intersecting streets and the tall trees. The houses all had lights burning beyond the window shades, and there were bushes and narrow little sidewalks leading around back to the dark alleys. The streetlamps glowed blue at the corners and the trees were evenly spaced along the sidewalks. Rose drove them through the quiet streets and at the highway she turned east.
As they approached the Highway 34 Grocery Store Betty said: Oh, I forgot my napkins.
What do you mean? Rose said.
It’s my time of month come round again. I don’t have my napkins. I’ll have to change sometime.
Do you want to stop and buy some?
If you please. I better.
They pulled in and parked among the cars near the front doors. Beyond the plateglass windows the store was brightly lit and there were women standing at the checkout. Go ahead, Rose said.
Betty looked toward the store but didn’t get out.
What is it now?
I don’t have no money. I didn’t bring my pocketbook. Could you loan me some? I’ll pay you back first of the month.
Rose gave her some bills and Betty went inside. When she disappeared into the aisles, Rose turned in the seat to look at the children. Are you two all right back there?
She’s not going to want us, Joy Rae said.
Who isn’t?
Mama’s aunt.
Why do you say that?
Last time she said not to come back again. I don’t see why we have to go out there.
Maybe you won’t have to stay very long. Just until your parents can calm down a little.
When’s that going to be?
Soon, I hope.
I don’t want to go out there either, Richie said.
Oh? Rose said.
I don’t like it out there.
Cause you wet the bed the last time and she got mad, Joy Rae said. He wets the bed.
So do you.
Not no more.