“Daisy!” Momma yelled from somewhere in the house.
I jumped.
Miss Annamae closed her eyes.Her wrinkles shifted againwith her frown before she opened them, looked at me and said, talking quietly,“I’m sure your momma’s got good in her, girl, but just to say, a Southern womandoes notyell.”
I nodded again.
She nodded back.“Go find your momma, child.”
I stepped away, took another step, and started to turn.
But I stopped and turned back.
“Miss Annamae?”
“I’m right here, Daisy.”
What did I say?
No.
How did I sayallI wanted to say?
The words got caught, twisting, filling my throat.
“Daisy!Where are you?”Momma shouted.
“I know,” Miss Annamae said, and from the look on her face Isaw by some miracle shedidknow exactly what I needed to say withoutme having to say it.“Now go to your momma, child.”
I nodded yet again, the feeling in my throat making wet popout in my eyes.
I swallowed, took in a big breath, dashed my hand on my eyesand shoved the box into the pocket of my jeans.
Then I turned and walked slowly out of the dining room.
Like a lady.
“I suppose you’ll bewantin’ somecake and ice cream orsomethin’,” Momma muttered whenwe were in her car on the way back home from Miss Annamae’s house.
“No, Momma.It’s okay.”
“Now she’sbein’ thatpassive-aggressive bullshit,” Momma kept muttering, now to herself, sort of.Itwas also to me.
I closed my mouth.
Momma didn’t stop at the store.
In the end, I made myself bologna sandwiches for my birthdaydinner while Momma got ready to go out toDuLane’sRoadhouse.
But after she was gone, I ate my sandwiches sitting in frontof the TV and I did it wearing pearls.
And three days later, Momma lost her job with Miss Annamaeseeing as she went to work (late) and found Miss Annamae had passed quietly inthe night while she was sleeping.
I walked away from Quick Swap with the cash in mypocket.
I went right to the bus station.
I bought a ticket and sat outside on the bench, my twosuitcases on the sidewalk by my boots.
