Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(21)
You can say a thousand times from Sunday Mama dying ain’t my fault, but I know better. Me asking her to sneak around Daddy to come and see Isaac broke her heart. Broke it the same as if I stomped on it with my two bare feet. Mama loved me; I know she did. How can any mama not love her own child? Long as I was happy with just getting letters Mama could be happy for me, but when I started wanting more than she could give, her heart started fighting against itself. Mama’s heart wanted to come see her grandson, but her body had to do what Daddy said.
The sorry truth is Mama’s never been a strong-willed woman. I ain’t laying no blame, ’cause I seen the mean-spirited side of Daddy and it’s enough to make anybody fearful. He’d be sweet as pie long as Mama was doing what he wanted, but the minute she went up against him he’d start in saying the Lord would smite her dead for such a thing. It didn’t matter what she was doing, Daddy’d come up with a Bible verse claiming it was a sin. Even for a woman staunch as a brick wall, it’s impossible to go up against a man who claims he’s got the Lord on his side.
Losing your mama leaves a hole in your heart that’s never gonna be healed. You got one mama, and once she’s gone you ain’t never gonna get another one. I want to be forgiving of Daddy, but the truth is it’s real hard. I keep arguing inside myself. One minute I’m ready to crawl on my hands and knees asking him for forgiveness, then the next minute I’m hating him all over again ’cause of the heartache he’s given Mama and me.
The saddest part of all this is that I keep wishing I could talk to Mama one last time. I’d ask her how I’m supposed to get over all this hurt. Knowing Mama, she’d have just the right words for answering.
I know I’m a growed-up woman with a child of my own, but Lord God how I do miss Mama.
Revisiting Twin Pines
Delia remained on the verge of tears for a full two weeks after she heard the news of her mother’s death. She went about her household chores, cooked dinner every night and set it on the table, but would do little more than pick at the food on her plate. One question after another popped into her mind, and she prodded Benjamin for details of her mama’s death.
“When did it happen?” she’d ask. “How can you say for sure it’s true?”
Benjamin answered the questions with little more than a shrug. “All I know is what the woman next door said, and I done told you that word for word.”
Delia would give an understanding nod, but less than an hour later she’d think of another question and start in again.
“Why don’t you go with me to Twin Pines,” Benjamin finally suggested. “By now your daddy might be willing to let bygones be bygones. After all that’s happened…”
He left the rest of his words unsaid. It hardly seemed necessary to remind Delia that her daddy’s loss was as great as hers.
Delia shook her head. “No,” she said sadly, “it’s too late for mending fences with Daddy.”
At the time it seemed she turned away from the idea, but the suggestion took root in her mind. Before the week was out she told Benjamin going to Twin Pines was a fine idea.
On the following Saturday Delia rose early and dressed in the flowered dress she usually saved for church. She applied a thin coat of rose-colored lipstick and looked back at the mirror. It was good. There was nothing trashy about her appearance, nothing her daddy could find to pick at or criticize. Before anyone else was up, Delia cooked a pot of grits and set a stew to bubbling. If things went as she hoped, they might be late in returning.
It was almost nine when they finally left. Delia toyed with the thought of bringing Isaac to meet his granddaddy, but the fear of what could possibly happen stopped her. She wanted to believe enough time had passed, enough time for forgiveness to set in and soften her daddy’s heart, but George Finch was a hard and unrelenting man. Still, even a stone could be worn away by time so there was always a chance. After all, she was his daughter. His only daughter. Surely that counted for something.
When Benjamin turned onto Cross Corner Road Delia said, “I’m not taking no for an answer.” The thought was powerful, but her words were small and wobbly at the edges. “It’s not gonna be easy,” she added, “but I’ll tell Daddy it’s what Mama would have wanted.”
As Benjamin drove, Delia spoke of her childhood. She searched her memory and pulled out stories that pictured the good side of her daddy: the Christmas Eve he carried her home from church on his shoulders; the morning he made her pancakes; the shiny locket he’d given her on her tenth birthday. She said nothing about the all-too-familiar scowl he wore, the demands he made, or the reason why she’d had to sneak out to meet Benjamin. The truth was if you could open up Delia’s box of memories, you’d see she was picking at a skimpy handful of good ones and closing a blind eye to all the others.
When they passed through a narrow section of the road where dense thickets of pines changed daylight to dark, Delia gave a wistful sigh.
“If Daddy can keep an open mind I think he’d come to love Isaac.” She sat silent for a moment then added, “I brought a picture to show what a fine boy he is.”
“That’s a real good idea,” Benjamin said, but when he looked across to smile at Delia he saw her turned away. A tear slid from her cheek and dropped into her lap.