The Pecan Man(13)

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.