Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(12)

“George won’t listen to me any more than he’ll—”

Mary stopped mid-sentence because George was standing in the doorway. She looked him square in the eye and said, “Benjamin has something to tell you.”





George turned away when Benjamin said he and Delia wanted to be married.

“She’s too young and you’re not the right man for her,” he replied.

It wasn’t what Benjamin wanted to do, but he finally had to explain the marriage was a necessity because Delia was expecting a baby. For a moment George stood there looking like a dead man; then he raised his fist and punched Benjamin in the jaw. Benjamin was nearly a foot taller than George and he had arms that could lift the back end of a tractor, but he didn’t move a muscle to retaliate. Benjamin stepped back, and George came at him with both fists.

“You’ll burn in hell, you piece of trash!” he screamed and kept swinging. Benjamin raised his arms to protect his face, but he never swung back.

All this while Delia and Mary cried and screamed for George to stop. When he finally did he told Benjamin to get out of his house.

“And take this whore with you,” he said, waving an angry finger at Delia.

“George, please,” Mary pleaded.

But it was no use. George stormed out of the room and said he wanted them gone before supper.





When Delia went to her room to gather her belongings, Mary followed her.

“What you did wasn’t right,” she said, “but I ain’t as unforgiving as your daddy.”

Mary slipped her mama’s gold wedding ring and twelve one-dollar bills into the palm of Delia’s hand. “It ain’t much, but it’s all I got.”

The sky was just turning dusky when they left the house. Benjamin loaded the two pillowcases filled with Delia’s things into the backseat of the car, and she slid into the front. She rolled the window down and blew a kiss to her mama standing on the sidewalk.

“I’ll try to come visit if I can,” Mary said wearily.

“I hope you will, Mama,” Delia replied. “I really do hope you will.”





Mary stood there and watched the car pull away. “God go with you, child,” she said with a sigh. “God go with you.”





Benjamin





You might think I’m a fool standing there, letting Mister Finch beat on me as he did, but I figured if he got enough revenge he’d go easier on Delia. ’Course that ain’t what happened.

I can understand him being mad, but I sure can’t understand him saying those awful things to his own daughter. When he called her a whore, it was all I could do not to tear into him. In my head I kept thinking he’s Delia’s daddy, and when he gets over his mad he’ll forgive her. Even when he said to get out of his house and never come back, I figured Delia’s mama would step in and put a stop to it but Mister Finch wasn’t listening to anybody—not me, not Delia, and not even her mama.

When Delia was packing her belongings in those bags, she was so ’shamed she didn’t even look up. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor and grabbed up whatever was within reach. I saw when she took one red shoe and left the other sitting on the shelf, so I got hold of the one she’d left behind and dropped it in the bag.

As we was headed toward the car I started thinking about the baby me and Delia is gonna have, and I swore long as there’s breath in my body I ain’t never gonna treat our baby mean. No matter if it’s a boy or girl, and no matter what good or bad it does.

Me and Delia is gonna be a family what cares about each other, and we ain’t never gonna do wrong by our young’uns. That much I can promise you.





At Home in Grinder’s Corner





On the drive home it began to rain. At first it was just a light drizzle, but by the time Twin Pines faded into nothingness it was coming down hard. The sound of it washing across the windshield was a welcome relief. In some strange unexplainable way it made the absence of words more bearable. A few times Benjamin gave voice to his thoughts saying he wished it had never come to this, but his words seemed small and insignificant in comparison to Delia’s heartbreak.

Hoping to hide her tears, Delia sat with her face turned to the window. Although she and Benjamin would soon be married, their happiness came at a price that was almost unbearable. She could feel bits and pieces of her heart crumbling. The hard truth was that she’d most likely never see her mama or daddy again.

For the whole of her life they’d been there, Daddy picking her up when she fell, Mama bringing her warm soup when she was sick. They helped with her lessons, listened to her prayers, and tucked her in at night. All of that was no more; it was swept away in a parting that was angry beyond belief.

Memories pushed up against one another as she thought back on the days when she was called her daddy’s angel, his princess, his little sweetheart. He’d smiled as if she was the sun and he was God in heaven admiring his own work. She tried to push aside the last picture, the one where his angry eyes burned through to her soul. She also tried to deafen her ears to the echo of that bitter word: whore.

As they drove Benjamin saw how the fingers of Delia’s left hand rubbed the knuckles of her right. After a few minutes she switched to rubbing the knuckles of her left hand, then just moments later she switched back again. He reached across the seat and covered her hands with his.