She reaches for a Kleenex behind her, dabs her eyes. “I was in my second month here at Ole Miss—on a full scholarship—when she was born. I had big plans. Wasn’t sure what I wanted to be yet, but I was determined to make a name for myself. I would have been the first woman in my family to graduate from college.”
I’m trying to take this all in. It’s the last thing I expected out of Miss Pearl when I knocked on her closet fifteen minutes ago. The pain written all over her face matches the pain on mine. The most burning question on my mind shoots out before I can stop it. “Why did you give her up?”
She opens and closes her mouth, like she’s not sure what to say. “It’s complicated, baby. There were issues with her daddy’s family. But the bottom-line truth is: I wasn’t ready for a baby. I had spent all four years of high school working hard for my good grades. I had earned my scholarship and no one was going to take it away from me. Not even my own child. Motherhood was the last thing on my mind.” She looks off. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d live to deeply regret that decision. See there. You never know what’s going on in your mama’s head.”
She’s making a good point, but I’m still not convinced. Miss Pearl and my mother couldn’t be more opposite.
“I long for my daughter almost every day. She turned twenty-five this past September the twenty-second.”
From the way she’s lamenting, it’s obvious Miss Pearl did not abandon her daughter. “I think I see what you’re trying to tell me.”
“Hardest decision of my life. Took me fifteen years to believe she forgives me.” She lifts her arm to show me a tattoo.
“What does it say?”
“I have been forgiven… in Latin. I paid that tattoo artist fifty dollars so I could remind myself of it every day. Aunt Fee liked to killed me.” When she laughs, I’m comforted all over again.
We sit in silence a few moments, then I ask, “Did you ever go back to school?”
“Two days after I gave birth. But I only lasted through the spring semester. I started thinking about what I did, how I had given up my own flesh and blood. I fell down into a deep, dark pit. Started running around with the wrong crowd, acting out. Then my grades suffered. And that was hard because I had always made A’s.”
“I understand that. My grades are important to me, too.”
“That’s good. You keep it that way.”
I can’t help but smile. I love this connection between the two of us. “Then what happened? After you left Ole Miss?”
“I rebelled a little longer, made some more bad choices. Then Aunt Fee got me a job here. I started out as a kitchen aide. Nearly twenty-five years ago.”
The stool is getting a little hard underneath my butt, so I adjust my posture. “That’s a really long time.”
“Yes it is.” She looks me dead in the eye. “Now you keep that information to yourself. I only told you because I thought it would help you.”
My eyes are wide. “I wouldn’t dare tell anyone. Please don’t mention what I told you.”
“This is our secret,” Miss Pearl says with loving eyes. “You and I can learn a lot from each other.”
After giving her another quick hug, I pull back. There’s something else I really want to know. “Miss Pearl?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Do you know who adopted your daughter?”
“All I know is it was a nice Catholic family in Memphis that could give her a better life. They’d been trying to start a family for a long time, but never could.”
“Do you want to find her?”
“Sure I do. But that wouldn’t be fair to her. If she wants to find me, she can. I put that in God’s hands a long time ago. The way I see it is: If I were to look for her, it would be more selfishness on my part.”
“You’re not selfish. Look how much the Alpha Delts love you. You’re their second mother.”
“That’s nice of you to say, baby, but I’m a plenty selfish. Guess we all are.”
“I’ve learned if we don’t take care of ourselves, no one else will.”
“That’s right. And I’ve recently decided to finish my degree so I can makemore money. It’s time I start looking toward the future.Taking care of myself,” she says with a chuckle.
“No one else will.”
