Seven
Thanksgiving that year was the first time in a long, long time that I filled my house with so many happy, laughing people. Marcus arrived home on Wednesday, and on Thursday the whole troop of Lowerys arrived on my doorstep at 10:00 a.m.
Blanche and I had baked pies the day before and the turkey was stuffed and ready to be put in the oven. Marcus found several things to do around the house which I felt certain Blanche had mentioned to him in advance. Patrice set the table as if she had been doing it for years. Blanche had obviously been attentive to her training all along, if Patrice’s confidence were any indication. The twins were charged with entertaining Grace, which they happily did. Close to noon, Blanche appeared in the doorway of my living room where I had retired to rest my feet.
“Reckon Eddie has anywhere to go today?”
I felt a sudden twinge of guilt. It had been over a month since my yard had been mowed for the last time that year. I had offered to find a few things around the house to keep Eddie busy, but he had allowed as how he might take a few months off to rest. I hadn’t argued and assumed he was doing exactly as he said.
“I hadn’t thought of it, Blanche, but I’m sure there’s something going on at one of the churches. The Episcopals still have their event every year.”
Blanche dried her hands on the towel she was holding. “That’s clear across town.”
“What are you getting at, Blanche? Do you want to invite him to dinner here?”
“Well, not exactly, but I was thinking maybe Marcus could take him a plate later on.”
“He could, but wouldn’t it be kinder to just ask him here to eat?”
“He may not be comfortable with that, Miz Ora.”
“Why don’t we give him the option?”
So, that’s what we did. Marcus was dispatched to the general area of the old man’s living quarters, if you could call it that. He reappeared a half hour later with the news that Eddie would indeed like to join us and would be along in an hour or so. I must say I was a little surprised at that, seeing as how the man had never ventured past the left corner stoop of my house.
An hour later he showed up looking somehow neater than I remembered. His face was clean shaven and his hair so closely cropped that you could see the distinct tiny curls of gray and white that littered his scalp like a field of dandelion. They looked equally fragile, too, as if one good puff of air might blow them all away. Gone was the cap in hand, gone the threadbare shirt. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he’d gotten a real job and a roof over his head somewhere. But Marcus had found him where he always stayed, so I knew that wasn’t the answer.
“I’m so glad you could make it. Won’t you come in?”
I assumed my hostess role by habit I suppose, despite the fact that I had relieved myself of all duties the moment Walter was laid in the ground. I had always assumed we would retire together, but Walter worked right up until the moment he succumbed to a massive heart attack in the men’s room at the Rotary Club downtown. Bless his heart, he hadn’t even managed to pull his pants up before he slumped to the floor in front of the toilet. It was an undignified ending for such a fastidious and dignified man and I hadn’t quite gotten over that yet. I decided to retire immediately. I told myself it had nothing to do with having to face all the whispers at the Woman’s Club and the Ladies’ Auxiliary. I imagine I wasn’t the only one who felt relieved by that decision.
Anyway, there I was with a homeless man as a guest in my home. My instincts took over and I did my best to make him comfortable. We chatted as we made our way to the living room.
“Thank you, Miz Beckworth. I ‘preciate the invite, I sho do. I wasn’t lookin’ forward to walkin’ ‘cross town to the shelter for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“You’re most welcome, Eddie. I’m delighted to have you.”
Was that what I was? Delighted? It didn’t really seem to fit. Pleased to have him? Maybe. Certainly not displeased; I was glad he wouldn’t go hungry today. Come to think of it, I was rather pleased. Pleased with myself for not hesitating in my offer. Pleased that Blanche had not successfully called my bluff, whether she intended that or not. Pleased that I had been tested and passed.
I did a quick mental comparison of this particular feeling of pleasure and the one I felt each year before, when I had helped plates down at the Episcopal Church’s Annual Thanksgiving charity meal. It‘s easy to feel benevolent when you‘re wearing an apron and gloves over a Chanel suit and dishing out turkey and dressing to a long line of the “least of these.”
This was different. I’m not sure I would have invited Eldred Mims to my home for Thanksgiving if I hadn’t been backed into this corner and that’s just the plain truth. But, there he was and there I was and, by God, I had an audience. I wasn’t about to fall on my face.
“We’re planning on eating at two, Eddie. I hope you’re not starving…”
My voice trailed off helplessly. I generally keep my feet out of my mouth when I’m entertaining, but this one was wedged in tight. I didn’t even try to take it out.
“I’ll be right back. I need to check on Blanche’s progress and see if she needs any help.”
Eddie did not reply, but if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d swear there was a twinkle in his eye that I had never seen before. And I’m dead positive I heard him chuckle when I left the room.
We sat down to Thanksgiving dinner promptly at 2 p.m. Marcus sat at one end of the long formal dining table and I at the other end. I had intended to do place cards, but didn’t, and Grace had that under control anyway. Directly at my left sat Grace, who had established that seating arrangement immediately upon learning that it was her personal responsibility to keep me company. She sat “Mr. Pecan”, as she called him, on the other side of herself and directly across from her mother. Patrice was to my right and the twins sat on either side of Marcus at the other end. Eight of us - just right for my old mahogany table, which had scarcely been used in the past forty years and possibly never used to seat an entire family at once.
Blanche set a steaming bowl of giblet gravy on the table and took her seat. Hands immediately reached out to each other around the table. I took a deep breath. I had never prayed aloud that I could remember. Walter had always done that for us. After his death, I mostly ate alone and so I bowed my head and thanked God silently before every meal. I suddenly couldn’t remember the etiquette for this situation. All I could manage was, “Who would like to say Grace for us?”
Grace sputtered, “Why you want somebody to say my name?”
Blanche jumped in with, “Hush, child!”
Marcus looked flustered and deferred to Blanche, who closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, breathed out and said gently, “Eddie, would you please ask the blessing for us?”
Of all the silly notions… I couldn’t believe Blanche would do such a thing to that poor old man. Why, she couldn’t possibly know if he even believed in God, much less worshiped Him.
Eddie nodded, his voice cracking slightly as he began, “Father God, have mercy on us po’ sinners gathered before you on this fine, fine day. Father, we are grateful for this food and for these friends and we ax’ yo’ blessin’ on us all.” His voice gathered strength with each word and I was reminded of the evangelists I heard on television. There was a pleasant rhythm to the way he spoke, and not just because of the sharp smacking noises that provided percussion to his words.
“Forgive us, Father, for our transgressions and keep us mindful of yo’ sacrifice every single day. Lawd, make us truly thankful for all these things you have done, in Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Amen!” was the chorus that preceded the next thirty minutes of feeding frenzy. Marcus carved the turkey as if he had been doing that task for years, and he probably had. Grace chattered happily to her new friend, the Pecan Man. If the events of two months prior had any lasting effect, you wouldn’t know it by the way Grace responded to Eddie.
Blanche had convinced the child that her horror in September was all a bad dream. That was how she had handled it with her other children as well. Grace had had a bad dream and it frightened her terribly, so no one was to discuss it. End of story. I wasn’t convinced it was a good way to deal with the situation, but it seemed to be working for now.
I was a little overwhelmed by the noise at the table at first, but I was soon laughing heartily at the antics of Grace and the twins and the stories that Marcus shared of life at boot camp.
I finally got around to asking Eddie where he’d been for the past few weeks. Seems his daughter had sent him a bus ticket to come to Alabama for a visit. I asked why he didn’t just stay down there, but he offered little in the way of explanation.
“Some things just ain’t meant to be, Miz Beckworth. We’s both better off not bein’ too close.”
“That must be hard for you.”
“Not really,” he replied with a shrug. “We ain’t never had too much in common. This here some good cawnbread dressin’ Miz Blanche. You make this?”
Moves like that didn’t bode well for my prying. I focused on eating my cranberry gelatin.
After dinner Blanche and Patrice cleared the table, Grace and the twins turned on the television set in the living room and the two men and I retired to the porch. Eddie seemed to be anxious to get home, but Blanche was packing him up some leftovers to take with him. Not too much, for it wouldn’t keep without refrigeration, even with the nights turning cooler now.
The three of us rocked in silence for quite a while. I think back to those moments now and I realize just how quickly whole lives can be altered. Sometimes, it’s just a few words here or there that put things in motion and everything you believe about yourself changes. Things you couldn’t have dreamed you’d do are done in the blink of an eye.
If Blanche had packed faster, if Marcus had headed upstairs to finish fixing that leaky faucet, if I had never invited Eldred Mims to Thanksgiving dinner, Skipper Kornegay might still be alive today.
“How’s dat l’il girl doin’?”
The question from Eldred came out of the blue. I half-choked on my tea and sputtered, “Who, Gracie?”
“I felt awful bad ‘bout what happened to her. I didn’t hardly know what to do but bring ‘er on home that day I found ‘er.”
Marcus was leaning forward in his chair with an expression on his face that even I couldn’t read. It was shock, I suppose.
“You found her?” I blurted out. I suppose I should have been able to cover better than I did, but I had never asked Blanche how the child got home that day. I just assumed she had come of her own accord and Blanche had not wanted to speak of any of the details.
“Yeah, I’s the one what found her, cryin’ fo’ her mama like she was. I like to never got to sleep that night f’ worryin’ ‘bout that chile.”
“Found her where?” Marcus found his voice. “What’s he talking about, Miz Beckworth?”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to look shocked. I was equally stunned and I just sat with my mouth half-opened for a minute. I hadn’t been prepared to tell an outright lie and, at that moment, all my upbringing screamed, “Don’t!” Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell if that meant don’t lie or don’t tell. So, with my heart beating that one single word, I said, “Oh, Gracie just had an accident, that’s all.”
“What kind of accident?” Marcus demanded to know.
“I think I done talked outta turn,” Eddie managed. “I thought the family knowed all about it.”
“Blanche didn’t want to worry anyone, is all.” My voice quaked under the strain of lying.
“What happened to Gracie, Miz Beckworth? I thought she just had a bad dream about something.”
“Marcus, you’re gonna have to talk to your Mama about this.”
Eddie stood. “I got to go. I’m sorry, Miz Beckworth. I didn’t mean no harm.”
“Wait, Eddie. Blanche is packing your food.”
“No, I got to go.”
He was off the porch and halfway down the sidewalk when Blanche appeared at the door with a Winn Dixie bag packed with leftovers for Eddie to take with him.
“Where’s he…”
“What happened to Grace, Mama?” Marcus clenched and unclenched his fists with nervous energy.
“Oh, Lord, help me,” was all Blanche could manage before she sunk into the nearest chair and dropped the sack of food to the floor.
It happened so fast, I still wasn’t sure how much damage had been done. I wracked my brain to remember every word that had been said in case Blanche could stick with her dream story without Marcus being certain she was lying. Blanche looked up at me with that very question on her face. How am I going to do this?
Not being privy to the whole discussion, Blanche had no clue how to proceed. I tried to fill in for her, but as is probably already apparent, I’m not altogether quick on my feet.
“Eddie was just asking after Gracie, Blanche. He wanted to know how she was doing after she had that accident and he brought her on home.”
“Oh,” Blanche nodded, “the accident.” She wasn’t particularly convincing if you ask me.
“Gracie just fell over some rocks on her way over to Miz Ora’s house and Eddie was kind enough to bring ‘er on home to us, tha’s all.”
“What rocks?” Marcus wasn’t buying a word of it.
“I don’t know what rocks, Marcus. Just some rocks out in the woods,” Blanche broke out in beads of sweat across her forehead.
“What was she doing in the woods?”
“She was takin’ a shortcut, I suppose.”
“Gracie knows better’n to take any shortcuts, Mama. Besides, I played in every stick of any woods we got close by and there ain’t a rock in ‘em that’s big enough to trip over. Now, somebody better tell me what happened to Grace and they better tell me now.”
I raised my hands in a gesture that clearly said don’t look at me!
Blanche raised herself out of the chair, wiped a forearm across her face.
“Don’t be makin’ such a fuss outta nothin’, Marcus. Gracie fell. That’s all they is to it.”
Marcus stood, too, rising a full foot over the compact bulk of his mother. I watched the fear and anger wash over him like a baptism. I can’t imagine how much it hurt that boy to stand there and hear his mama tell him what he knew was a lie.
He hesitated for a moment, then turned and headed off in the same direction as Eldred Mims. We hoped he might be headed home, but he wasn’t and we should have known that. We should have known.