The House of Eve (13)
“Reach up in that cabinet over the sink and take a spoonful of cod liver oil,” Aunt Marie commanded.
“I’m all right,” I responded, trying to avoid taking the nasty concoction that smelled like fish. It made my breath stink and hurt my stomach.
“Sweetness, I’m not asking. Can’t have you sick up in here, not on my watch.”
I’d stayed with Aunt Marie enough over the years to know that there was no point in arguing with her, so I grabbed a spoon and the bottle and sucked down a dose of the nasty fish oil. My stomach churned, and the aftertaste lingered on my tongue even after several gulps of water.
“That a girl.” Aunt Marie moved the meat back up to her eye. “Make sure you dress in layers.”
I nodded while making the effort to suppress another sneeze, worried that she’d make me take something more. I ruffled through the paper bags that contained my things, Inez’s words, “fast ass,” echoing from each bag. I had been right: every piece of clothing I owned was crammed in.
Seven years. That’s the amount of time Inez had played mother to me. From the time I was born until third grade, Inez was just Nene’s daughter. The pretty lady who smelled like honeysuckle and wore slingback heels, who came around on the weekends to drink beer with my cousin Fatty. Then Nene’s glaucoma worsened and she fell and fractured her hip. Two days later she was declared legally blind.
A week after her prognosis, I could tell that something was wrong by the way Nene’s bottom lip quivered as she crushed me to her breasts. “If I could keep you, sweetness, you know I would. But Nene’s getting old, and she the only mother you got. Be patient with her.”
That’s how I found out that this Inez lady was my real mama and I had to move a few blocks over to the apartment that she shared with her boyfriend of the moment.
Inez clearly never wanted me with her, though. I missed Nene and our routine something fierce. And everything I did in my new home set Inez off. If I poured too much Karo syrup on my pancakes, she’d slap me. Ask her a question while her man was present, I got cussed out. And God forbid one of her suitors took his attention off her and put it on me; that meant there would be a meeting of my behind and the thick leather belt she kept on the back of her bedroom door. Most of her mad moments were followed by a drop-off at Aunt Marie’s till she got her “nerves together.”
But Inez had never sent me packing with everything I owned. Not until this thing with Leap. My throat ached as I belched up the awful taste of cod liver oil.
“Some hominy grits in the pot for breakfast.” Aunt Marie’s voice brought me back.
I nodded. My black pants didn’t need pressing, so I slipped them on with a plaid blouse, loose cardigan and flats. When I first moved in with Inez, she had joked that my forehead was as big as a skillet, and that she could fry an egg on it. Her laughter was relentless, and from that moment on I never left the house without my bangs almost down to my eyelids. I pressed them down against my forehead, and the rest of my hair I tucked into a bun.
By the time I was ready to go, Aunt Marie had changed into her flowered housecoat and was standing at the hall mirror spreading a layer of toothpaste over her black eye.
“When you go to Sandler’s deli, don’t let that mean lady with the mole serve you. She likes to give us the tough cut a’ meat. Wait for the other lady with the blonde wig, even if she’s with a customer.”
Aunt Marie handed me a crochet shopping bag, her handwritten list, and three dollars, folded in a handkerchief that she made me pin to the inside of my blouse, close to my heart where someone would have to hold me down to get to it.
“Count my change, hear?”
I undid all three locks on her front door. Outside, the October air felt good on my face, and I was surprised that it was warmer outside than it was in the apartment. Across the street was a filling station, and as I passed by, a bearded man leaned out the window of his car and stared me down.
“Baby Love, you too fine to be walking these streets alone. Let me give you a ride.” He was old enough to be my father and had the same gold crown on his tooth as Leap.
I crossed in the opposite direction, bristling at the sound of him calling after me, turning back to make sure he wasn’t following. Satisfied, I walked two blocks over to 31st Street, where Jewish shops and businesses lined both sides of the street for a four-block radius. Shoppers could buy everything from fresh bread to fruits and vegetables, sweet treats and jewelry. The whole street was closed on Saturdays. The people who lived in the neighborhood mostly shopped the stores on Sunday, before or after church. Aunt Marie didn’t believe in church, and Inez didn’t much either. We only went when someone died or was getting married.
I moved through the storefronts, procuring everything on the list, with five cents to spare. From the moment I stepped foot onto 31st Street my eyes kept finding Greenwald’s, and I debated back and forth if I should stop by. Greenwald’s candy store was in the middle of the block, with two red-and-white poles that made me think of peppermint sticks twirling on either side of the door. I had never been inside. Some of the white stores on 31st Street felt off-limits to me, and Greenwald’s was one of them. Before Nene went blind, she used to churn homemade ice cream for us by hand, or we’d buy three pieces of candy for a penny from the corner store.
A bell chimed to announce my arrival in the shop. The noise startled me. I suddenly felt stupid for being there and turned to walk back out, but then the sound of my name rooted me to the black-and-white checkered floor.