What's Mine and Yours(19)

“You admiring my china?” Linette asked. “These were passed down to me by my grandmother. She lived here, you know? Back when there was still a black business district, a whole city inside this city. Before they built the freeway right through it. Did you know about that? They didn’t teach you that history in school, I bet.”

Jade didn’t like when older women talked to her as if she were their child, as if being old gave them a pass to mother anyone they wanted. It was hard for her not to fight back whenever someone talked down to her in that motherly way. They’d mean to say, I’m looking after your own good, but it always seemed closer to You are no good.

Jade felt a flutter in her chest, a surge of exhaustion that started behind her eyes and rolled down to her feet. She had the sensation that she might faint, and she knew she should have eaten more that morning, but the idea of tasting anything had made her sick.

“Mommy, what’s the matter? Are you going to throw up again?”

Linette sputtered over her coffee.

“I’m fine,” Jade said. “I’ve just been feeling funny since what happened.”

“What’s going on now?”

Jade tried to explain. “Sometimes, after a shift, I’ll be walking to my car, and it’s like I’m floating outside of my body. Like I’m not really there, like I could just fall right through the earth.”

Linette was staring at her now, clenching and unclenching her hands.

“Gee, why don’t you go out to the yard and play? Sometimes there’s a big cat that likes to lay out there in the sun. Go on and see if you can find him.”

Gee took one last gulp of his tea and went out the back door.

“You can’t talk like that in front of him,” Linette said. “You’re all he’s got now, and you’ve got to learn to be the solid one.”

Jade felt bruised. She had been trying to confide in Linette, share something real. “You know I had Gee before I met Ray, right? I was raising him all by myself.”

“You were raising him the way they raised you. Keeping him alive but not so much as looking at him.”

“Give me a break, Linette.”

“Ray told me about all the times Gee missed school because you were dead asleep, drunk. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

“Shame’s not really my thing,” Jade said, and she decided there’d be no better time, no use in trying to butter her up anymore. “I came to ask for a loan.”

Linette knit her fingers together, shook her head. “I closed Superfine. Since the story ran, I’ve been getting calls. Inquiries. People who want us to cater. But I don’t have anyone to help me fill those orders. Not without Ray.”

“I wouldn’t need more than twenty dollars. Just something to hold us over until I get my check.”

“You know, I haven’t seen you since the funeral. You haven’t dropped by to see me once.”

“We’ve never had a habit of visiting each other.”

“This hasn’t been easy on me either,” Linette went on. “First, I lose Billy. Then I lose Ray. It’s no good dying, but sometimes I think it’s worse being the one who’s left behind.”

Jade couldn’t agree. She’d have done anything to have Ray back again—anything short of dying herself. She was certain that she wanted to live. It was all she wanted, too, for her boy.

Linette sighed and heaved herself off the couch. She looked wider than she had at the funeral. She came back with her tangerine leather purse, fished inside, and handed Jade a twenty.

“You must know how I feel about you,” Linette said. “Or how I don’t feel about you. I never kept it a secret.”

“I’m not sure how you feel,” Jade said, “but I bet it’s mutual.” She slipped the bill in her purse.

Linette leaned back on the settee, as if she were too tired to go on trading blows with Jade.

“Ray was the closest thing I had to a son. I won’t let you go hungry, especially not Gee.”

“Thanks for being clear,” Jade said. She headed for the back door to collect her son.

“Wait,” Linette said. She stood with a huff and clamped her hand on Jade’s arm. “I’m just trying to find someone to put all my anger on. I know it shouldn’t be you.” Linette looked at her pleadingly. She softened her voice. “I know you and Ray used to talk about having a baby together.”

Jade wrenched her arm away from the old woman. She didn’t want to talk about those times with Ray, times Linette could know nothing about. The way he used to whisper in her ear when they were making love: Come on, baby, can’t you just picture her—a girl?

“You look different,” Linette said. “I can’t explain it. Something in your eyes, in the way you’re moving around, your limbs. I saw it when you walked in the door. And then Gee said you threw up this morning.”

“He’s been dead six weeks, Linette. That’s too long. I’d know by now.”

“Well, did you get your period?”

“They say grief can affect all kinds of things. It’s probably stress—I haven’t given it any mind. It’s not possible.”

“Why don’t you take a test?”

“He’s gone, Linette.”