I didn’t.
I didn’t really feel anything, except for grossed-out and ashamed. I wasn’t mad at her. I didn’t think about how she was trying to seduce my husband. In fact, it had quit being Jed on the couch. It was just some man. Another face that might be handsome or hideous, just another face in a long line of faces. I was once again eight years old, making my mom and her latest Tom a drink. That was all.
They were talking, my mom and Jed. I didn’t know about what. I’m sure I could hear them, but they were nothing more than a buzz in the background. I ate my sandwich. Maudra had made them the day before I’dbrought them to Rose. She, Donnie, Jed, and I had eaten them in her sunroom for lunch. They had been delicious, crunchy and sweet. I didn’t taste anything now. I counted my chews. Forty chews for each bite. Slow, deliberate. I refilled Mom’s glass. I continued biting. Chewing. Biting. Chewing. I glanced toward my bedroom door. It was nailed. I’d forgotten. Biting. Chewing. Maybe she wanted me to go outside today. Probably. It wasn’t late. Biting. Chewing.
I jumped when Jed touched my arm. He was standing beside me, saying something. I had to use every ounce of my concentration to comprehend his words.
“Brooke. Come on. We need to go.” He forced me to meet his gaze. “We have to get back. We told Maudra we’d only be a couple hours.”
“Huh?” The fog was starting to clear. We hadn’t even seen Maudra this morning. She’d gone over to the nursing home to visit a couple of friends.
Jed’s eyes hardened. “We have to go, babe. We need to get back.”
I still wasn’t completely with him but nodded and got up. I didn’t look at Mom as we left the house, but I heard her whisper a good-bye to Jed.
“It was good to meet you, Ms. Morrison.” His voice sounded strange to me. “Thank you for lunch.”
I didn’t hear her muffled reply as we walked to the car. Jed opened the passenger door, and I got in.
He started the car and took off down the drive. He exhaled violently and shook his body like he was a wet dog. “Brooke, what the fuck was that?”
I stared out the window, watching the gravestones zoom by, dust billowing from the car. “Huh?”
He looked over at me, as if just seeing me. “Babe, are you okay?” He put his hand on my thigh.
I shrank from him. “Please don’t touch me.”
Twenty-One
I gotout of the tub and dried off. If I would have known what extensive therapy Maudra’s claw-foot tub provided, I could have saved myself years of paying a therapist. The hot water had done its job, although I had to soap up and rinse off three or four times before I even began to feel clean.
I looked in the mirror before I started getting dressed. I had lost weight. I hadn’t even noticed. I guessed probably ten or fifteen pounds. That was the exact opposite effect from what I’d expected, moving back. I hadn’t been lifting weights the past couple of months, so my muscles weren’t quite as toned, but all the work at Rose’s had kept them in good enough shape. Surprisingly, I realized I looked good. I looked healthy. My body hadn’t looked this fit in several years. I slipped into my jeans and one of my faithful black T-shirts.
The bath had enabled me to think through the scene at my mom’s. For some reason, I still wasn’t able to be angry with her. It was strange. I was always angry with my mom. I should be beyond angry now, more than ever. I wasn’t. I guess the feeling could have been described as numb, but that doesn’t really fit either. She was just being Rose. She was doing what Rose does with men, especially good-looking men. It didn’t matter if she was older and sick. It didn’t matter if they were gay. It also didn’t matter if they were her gay son’s husband.
While I still wasn’t able to feel how I should toward Rose, the bath had helped me regain my perspective on Jed. Though the ride back to Maudra’s wasn’t very long, Ifelt like I was with one of Rose’s men the entire time. I had always hated being alone with them. Always. With the exception of Adam. He had been different. With everyone else, I’d felt dirty. I’d felt dirty with Jed. I couldn’t wait to get away from him. The hot water had washed that away, and he was my Jed again, untainted by Rose’s infection.
Maudra had been home when we walked in. I hadn’t said anything to her. I just went straight to the bathtub. As I walked back into the kitchen, she and Jed were setting the table. I was sure he had filled her in on his experience with my mom. I was glad I didn’t have to go through it again for Maudra. Not that I would have.
Jed looked up at me hesitantly as I walked in. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.
I walked over and kissed him lightly on his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
I felt him ease, and he wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay, baby. I completely understand. Glad you’re better.” He pulled back and kissed me deeply.
“Dear Gawd, ’nuf of that.” I felt something smack my back. I pulled away from Jed to see Maudra stuffing a tan hand towel into her apron pocket. “If’n y’all er gonna make out, go find somewhere else. Don’t need ta see somethin’ I cain’t have.”
Jed let me loose and swept Maudra into an embrace. “Like you wouldn’t have every eligible bachelor lined up around the block if they thought they had a chance.”
“Oh, git on now.” She swatted him, but a pleased blush crept onto her cheeks. As with everyone who met Jed, Maudra loved him instantly. She and Jed were always laughing and joking about something. She pulled free and looked at me. “’Bout time you got down here. We wasabout ta eat without ya. Jist cause yer mamma’s crazy don’t mean we gonna let supper git cold fer ya.”
I laughed. Leave it to Maudra to make the day’s event into something light enough to razz someone about.
“Well, don’t jist stand there. You git the ice, Brooke. We did all the cookin’ and settin’ the table. Least you kin do.”
“Fine. Fine. I’m living with slave drivers.” That earned me another swat with the dishrag. “So what are we having for dinner?”
Maudra waggled her finger at me. “Well, well, look who’s interested now.” She went over to the oven, somehow managing to open the door with her massive cooking mitts on, and pulled out a glass pan and held it out to me. “Enchilada casserole. It was yer Grandma’s recipe. She was kind enough to give it to me after she brought it to a potluck one time. I figured it would be a good night fer it.”
