The Kindest Lie(88)
Ruth clutched her cell phone tightly and held it up. “You should look at this.” Her eyes locked on Mama.
“Finish washing those glasses. Now’s not the time.”
“I am not a child who has to follow your orders,” Ruth said. “Look at it.”
She had never raised her voice with her grandmother like this before. The sharp edge to her tone cut through the room. She pointed to the image of the adoption consent form.
Mama cupped her mouth with her hand but didn’t speak. Eli turned the phone so he could see the screen, and after reading the adoption form, he let out a low whistle. “Naw, Mama, you didn’t get mixed up with this DeAngelo dude, did you? Say it ain’t so.”
“It is so. This is the proof. My grandmother not only consorted with a criminal to keep me from my child for eleven years, but signed a legal document swearing she gave birth to my baby.” Ruth ground out the words.
Finally able to speak, Mama said, “Everything I did was for you, because I love you.”
“You call this love?” Tears rolled down Ruth’s cheeks. “You have no idea what love is.” Eli squeezed her shoulder.
Mama twisted the sponge in her hands. Her eyes fixated on the kitchen window. While her physical presence was there, she must have traveled someplace else in her mind. Her lips parted and then closed and opened again, as if she didn’t want to speak but something beyond her control compelled her.
“After Hezekiah died, I didn’t know how to make up for everything he used to do for you kids. It wasn’t just about being a provider, either. He always said we were better together, and he was right, as usual. I walked around so lost for so long. Mostly I turned to God and sometimes the man of God, Pastor Bumpus.
“I was trying my darnedest to give you kids the best start in life I could. Eli, when you got arrested for dabbling in that dope, I almost lost my mind. They cage our boys, shackle their possibility. Put a lock on their dreams. But not you. I wouldn’t let them do that to my grandson. Pastor introduced me to Mr. DeAngelo. I gave him a little piece of money and he talked to one of those judges and they sent you home to me.
“I thought God only gave us one big storm as a test, you know. Once we passed it, we were good. I was wrong. When you got pregnant, baby girl, I saw every dream we had for you rotting and dying off. You were smart as a whip from the day you were born. You could have been anything you wanted to be in the world. But not with a baby. So, I took him to the church. Pastor Bumpus said there was a couple that was new to the church that had been trying for years to have a baby and couldn’t. He had me talk to Mr. DeAngelo, who told me what to write on those papers. I knew it wasn’t right in the eyes of the law. Maybe God’s, neither. But it was the right thing for your future. And that’s all I had my eyes on.”
Mama shrank before them, not quite broken, but deflated like an old tire from Leo’s auto lot. Ruth eyed her brother, wondering if Eli was considering how his grandmother had bought his freedom.
Quiet hung over the kitchen until the phone shattered the silence. It stunned Mama, who hesitated before answering.
She frowned at whatever the person on the other end told her. “Oh, dear Lord” was all she said.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Ruth asked.
“It’s Midnight. Lena said he’s run off.”
Thirty-Two
Ruth
Late into the evening, Ruth tossed in her bed and listened for the house phone to ring with news about Midnight. They’d told Lena to call with an update, no matter the hour. At one and two and three in the morning, nothing, and finally she drifted off to sleep. Just before daybreak, garbage trucks rumbled nearby and she could hear other sounds of the street waking up. Like something shot out of a cannon, Ruth sat up in bed, remembering all over again her conversation with Mama and that Midnight was missing.
Without saying much to each other, Mama and Ruth dressed and met at the front door to head over to Lena’s place.
Only a few streetlamps lit this end of Kirkland Avenue, which made it scary to imagine Midnight wandering out there all alone. Unlike in Chicago, darkness had always descended upon Ganton like a heavy blanket, so total and complete you sometimes couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. They had waited until the first hour of daylight—the only respectable thing to do in Mama’s mind—to knock on Lena’s door.
They stood awkwardly in the doorway, together yet apart, acutely aware of the bomb that had just detonated in their family the previous afternoon. Midnight’s disappearance offered a new preoccupation, a distraction for them, postponing the inevitable conversation.
The door stood open, and right away the stench of scorched meat met them. Inside, Lena was making tracks from the couch to the kitchen counter, the floor tiles wailing under the weight of her anxiety.
“Come on in,” she said, a Newport wedged in the corner of her mouth. “I burned my roast last night and it still smells, so I opened the door to get some air in here. Wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing after I realized Patrick was gone.”
Lena’s eyes held a wild terror in them, and Ruth had to look away to avoid seeing the palpable fear. Before they’d even taken off their coats, Eli arrived, anxious to do what he could to help. He faced Midnight’s grandmother like a soldier reporting to duty. “He’s coming home. Don’t you worry.” Drawing strength from her brother’s resolute voice, Ruth held on to his words, letting his confidence extinguish her fear.