Annie Laurie and Ellie tell us good-bye and walk out behind Mrs. Whitmore. Mrs. Woodcock follows, but before leaving she turns back around. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your parents, girls. Maybe next time?”
Jasmine and I both nod and I force a smile. I’m not sure what Jasmine’s thinking, but I’m dripping with gratitude that Mrs. Woodcock didn’t ask any more questions. Neither one of us have fathers, at least not fathers we know. Relief over not having to explain this, or anything about my mother, floods through me like a roaring tidal wave.
FOURTEEN
MISS PEARL
Three weeks after move-in, I come into work before the crack of dawn, and find a Cisco eighteen-wheeler parked right behind the kitchen.What’s he doing here already?I wonder, and make my way to the door. It’s that pretty boy Fred Smithson, our favorite driver, but I’m in no mood to socialize. I didn’t take time to put my face on before I left, and the first drop of coffee has yet to splash my tongue.
“What on earth are you doing here this early, Mr. Smithson?” I slide past his dolly with my head down, take my key out, and unlock the door.
“I’d be at this till ten o’clock tonight if I didn’t get an early start. Between the University and the sorority and frat houses, I’m busy all day every day. Y’all happen to be my first stop.”
I don’t look right at him. The last thing I want is for him to see me looking like this. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Just pulled up five minutes before you did.”
My weave is twisted up inside this cap. Can’t cook unless it is. I catch him eyeing me. He’s never seen me looking this plain. I didn’t anticipate him being here when I agreed to come in extra early today. Usually Mama Carla meetshim at the door, but before I left yesterday I told her to sleep in. Truth is I could do her job in my sleep.
I reach for my card to clock in, and see Aunt Fee’s below it, already punched. Normally she doesn’t come in until ten. “What are you doing here already?” I holler. I turn to see her standing in front of the stove stirring a big pot of red sauce. I can smell it from the door.
“Cooking up a surprise.”
“Not a surprise. I can smell it from here.”
“You know spaghetti and meatballs is one of the girls’ favorites. Had to get here early to get this sauce on.”
“It’s smelling good already.”
“Sure is, Miss Ophelia,” Fred says, tipping his dolly forward to drop his first load.
“Thank you, baby,” she hollers. “Why don’t you stop by after work and get you a plate?”
“Wish I could. But I’ve got plans tonight. Thank you, though.” Mr. Smithson heads back to his truck for another load.
“FiveA.M.came mighty early for me,” I say. “I wanted to throw that alarm clock across the room. What time did you get here?” I grab a white apron off the hook, tie it behind me.
“Been here almost an hour.”
“Say what?”
“Got a doctor’s appointment right after lunch. I needed to get a head start on dinner.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Just a checkup. That’s all.”
Aunt Fee hasn’t been to the doctor’s for a checkup in as long as I can remember. None of us here have. Alpha Delt offers no health insurance benefits for anybody except Mama Carla. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure.”
When Mr. Smithson is ready to leave, I make sure to check each item with the order form—four towering stacks of dry goods. Mr. Marvelle will be busy unpacking all morning.
Fred passes me his pen. As I’m signing my name I notice his eyes on my arm. “What does your tattoo say?”
I hold up the inside of my right forearm, show him the small cursive letters a few inches from my wrist.Absolvatus sum. “It’s Latin. Means I have been forgiven.”
“Amen, sister.”
