Tallulah

Momma and Daddy split up after that—except, I didn't know they had split up. Momma said Daddy had gone on vacation and wouldn't be back for "a very long time". I remember that she cried a lot after that day—that she spent days on end lying in bed and wouldn't even get up to eat, much less wash or do anything else. Whenever I walked into her room—Daddy was gone and my grandparents had taken to sleeping in my uncle's room because Momma "needed her space," according to Grandpa—she just started to cry if she wasn't already and begged me to leave. She listened to lots of sad records. She started drinking a little bit more than she should have.

She went into town a lot to sign some papers and she even went to court one day—but Peter wouldn't let me go with her and made me go to school because he told me that what Momma and Daddy were doing were none of my business and I'd figure it out when I was older. She stopped wearing her pretty diamond ring. She stopped wearing makeup. She just stopped coming out of her room, period.

I felt bad for Momma—really—but I didn't know what to do. I was a child. So I kept to myself. My aunts and uncles saw to me growing up since Momma wasn't—or couldn't, really. I went to school, I learned how to ride a bike, I made friends, and continued on, not completely oblivious to Momma's issues but just at a loss as to what I was meant to do, since I was so young and all. I felt awful, but every time I brought it up my aunts told me to let her be.

So I did.

I didn't understand what exactly had happened to Momma and Daddy but I knew it was something bad. If it wasn't, she wouldn't be so sad. Whenever the topic came up the adults spoke in hushed whispers and told me that the conversation wasn't for little girls and that I should go outside and play with Snowball, a small white ball of fur that Peter bought for me because he read in a magazine that pets help children deal with change. Since Peter basically raised me because my aunts were too busy trying to help Momma and my other uncle was hardly ever home, no one really fought him on bringing a dog home.

At least, I didn't understand what happened until the day Simone Mae graduated from high school.

I was nine.

My birthday was two weeks away and Peter said he was going to take me to the beach with his special friend and my sisters. I couldn't wait.

Grandma was really excited and so were Grandpa and my aunts and uncles. Simone had gotten a scholarship to a university right outside of the city because she had really good grades (and probably because Uncle Peter caused a fuss at the admissions office).

Momma even came out of her room that day, which made Simone kind of happy seeing as she rarely ever left her bed. I hadn't seen her properly in about three weeks. Momma, who was naturally a bit lighter skinned than the rest of my aunts, looked paler than I remembered and like she had lost quite a bit of weight. She had actually done something to her hair—whenever I saw her she looked messy and sad and mad—and put on some makeup. She wore a pretty blue dress and her fancy heels.

She was beautiful.

Momma didn't look happy but at least she wasn't sad. We all ate a nice dinner together before Uncle Peter and I left with Simone. She had to get to the school early because she was giving a special speech since her grades were higher than everyone else's. Uncle Peter and I had to save seats for our family, since it was so big and all. We got seats right behind the section that they had roped off for the students. Uncle Peter had a camera and took pictures of me and Simone before she had to go inside to get her speech put together. After we saved our seats—we basically just threw a bunch of programs onto the seats and told Peter's friend, Ms. Johnson, that we were sitting there so she could keep an eye on them—we went to get some ice cream. We had gotten there about an hour early and walked to the parlor since it was right down the street. Peter bought me a peaches and cream cone with sprinkles and grinned at me.

Momma and my aunts didn't like me eating so much sugar, but Peter didn't really care and snuck me sweets all the time. I had just finished my cone by the time we spotted my Grandpa's old truck parked next to Peter's brand new Caddy. Peter wiped at my face with his handkerchief, laughing about how messy I was.

"C'mon, we're gonna be late if we don't hurry." The school's band was already playing so we rushed up the aisle to our seats, squeezing through the large crowd. I sat between Peter and Momma, who was wearing a pretty white flower in her hair, pinned down with small black bobby pins. It was nice to see her so well put together. It made me happy.

"You look so pretty, Momma!" I whispered quietly, smiling at her. She looked at me, batting her long eyelashes.

"And so do you baby." She squeezed my knee. "Are you excited?" I nodded and she smiled. "Me too." Since there were so many students, we were kind of far from the stage and it made it pretty difficult for Peter to see so he could take pictures. He put me on his shoulders since I was kind of small for my age and gave me the camera. Momma smiled brightly at me, wrinkling her nose. "You better behave up there."

Simone's principal and some of her teachers came up and made speeches, and then it was Simone's turn. She wore a pretty purple gown over her black dress and a matching hat with a gold tassel. Peter squeezed my ankle and looked up at me, so I started to take pictures of her. She smiled before giving her speech.

"It seems like it flew by, doesn't it? Four years ago, we were simple..." I took about four or five pictures of Simone before she walked off the stage and sat back down with everyone else. Her friend, Elias, gave a speech too before he sat down next to her. Then they started giving diplomas to the students and Simone was the first to get hers, even though it was supposed to be from A to Z and our last name was Roosevelt. We took more pictures and my uncles and even Momma whistled and clapped loudly, and then I heard it.

I didn't think Daddy had died, but since he never called or came to visit us, I assumed that something bad had happened to him or that he moved far away and forgot all about us. I didn't even think he'd come to Simone's graduation or that he'd even know about it since he didn't talk to us anymore.

So, of course, you can imagine my surprise when I hear him yelling, "That's my girl!"

I turned around and almost dropped Uncle Peter's camera. Clear as day, there he was. He looked a lot older than I remembered him being and his hair had started going grey, and he had gained quite a bit of weight. The only thing that I really noticed was that he was with another woman who I knew for a fact wasn't Momma. She wore a dress that was too tight and her hair was short and she kissed Daddy the way he used to kiss Momma before it happened. I frowned at them. What were they doing?

When Peter sat me back down in my seat, I looked down at my shoes, deep in thought. Who was that other woman? Why was Daddy here? Why didn't he call? Did Momma know? What would Momma do? I didn't want to see her get sad again, not when she was happy—or something like it, anyway. What would Peter do? He didn't like Daddy, not even when he still lived with us and they were happy. He was the only person Peter was ever mean to and I didn't understand why because he was so friendly and he liked everyone. Except Daddy. I felt like I was going to be sick. Something bad was going to happen and I couldn't stop it.

I thought I'd be happy to see Daddy, but I wasn't. I was just angry and confused, like Momma was on that fateful afternoon. Who in the world was that woman and why was she with Daddy? I snuck a glance at them and took a picture of them with Peter's camera. He was too busy talking to Ms. Johnson who was sitting next to him and giggling quietly at something he'd said. She was pretty too, with big brown eyes and a round face and curly hair like mine. I liked her. (Peter told me that she was his special friend and that they liked each other very much, which was why she was sitting with our family. He brought her home to dinner the following Sunday so she could meet our family properly.)

Simone's graduation ended much too quickly. Peter, along with my aunts and Momma, was taking Simone to a restaurant where they would be throwing her a surprise party. My aunts, Grandma, and Grandpa left half way through the ceremony to help decorate and make the place look nice. I spent the day blowing up balloons in the garden with Peter and the dog. It was just me and Peter and Ms. Johnson—she asked me to please call her Isabel (even her name was pretty)—and Momma and I had a bad feeling in my gut. Simone came up to us, pushing through the crowd of students, family and friends alike. Simone hugged Ms. Johnson tightly—she was her English teacher—and kissed Momma and Peter on the cheek. She even picked me up and spun me around, giggling. Peter started taking pictures of us and I tried to smile, but having Daddy lurking around only made me nervous.

He was only going to make Momma sad again.

Or crazy.

Momma was fixing her hair when Daddy came up to us, sighing softly. Daddy was standing behind her and the woman was mysteriously missing. I scowled at him. Peter was about to say something when Daddy said hi to Momma. She turned and her face fell. Simone and Ms. Johnson were talking so they hadn't noticed quite yet.

"You're looking good, Savannah Mae," Daddy said, looking at Momma in a way that made me uncomfortable. Uncle Peter held my hand and put an arm around Momma, looking at Daddy with an angry face. The only person who called Momma by her full name was her Momma, and that was only when she was upset about something. Hearing it come out of Daddy's mouth made me upset—angry—and I didn't know why. It was like he was disrespecting her.

"Billie," Momma said quietly, gulping. "Why are you here?"

"Why wouldn't I be here? She's mine too, ain't she?" he asked, nodding at Simone, who finally realized what was going on. Simone and Ms. Johnson stood next to me, and Ms. Johnson put a hand on my other shoulder, looking at Daddy with the same look Peter was. "I ain't allowed to come see her now?"

"No. You don't have any right to—" She walked up to Daddy then. She was uglier up close. She had a hairy mole next to her nose and her teeth were crooked and she smelled funny and her dress had a hole near the waist and she was wearing too much makeup and she was making me really uncomfortable. It made me angry for reasons I didn't understand.

It seemed as though there were a lot of things I didn't understand about either one of my parents.

"Who are your friends?" the woman asked, hanging off Daddy in a way that made Uncle Peter tighten his grip on me slightly.

"I thought I told you to wait in the car," Daddy said to her, frowning.

"I got lonely." Daddy looked at her with the same look he was looking at Momma with earlier, and it only made me madder.

"That's my—"

"I'm not anything of yours," Momma said pointedly, glaring at him angrily. "I'm the woman whose family you ruined, you homewrecking—"

"Remember the children," Peter said softly, nodding at me. Momma sighed, closing her eyes.

"Lord, give me the strength—"

"It's not my fault you can't keep a man in your bed, baby—" the other woman said with a taunting smile on her lips, batting her eyelashes at Momma.

"Best watch how you talk to me, okay? 'Cause I ain't one of these stupid little girls from down the street, and I will cut you." Momma looked at the woman with a no-nonsense face, lips in a line. "Don't test me."

"She really is crazy," the woman said quietly, laughing. Momma huffed, shaking her head.

"You got a lot of nerve, bringing her here. It's supposed to be Simone's special day, okay? It's for family only, and last time I checked, little girls like her who can't keep their legs closed don't count as family."

"Excuse me?" She waved her left hand in Momma's face. She was wearing a ring like Momma's, but the diamond was bigger and she had another gold ring too. "I'm his wife now, baby. That makes me family."

"Oh, hell no. You can't pay child support for the girls but you can go buy heifer of the year here a diamond ring?" Momma started taking off her earrings, huffing and shaking her head "Hold my stuff—hold my stuff, Peter!" Momma exclaimed, shoving her purse and earrings at her brother. "This little girl's fixin' for a beatdown."

"Not in front of the children," Peter stressed, pushing her stuff back into her hands.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me, babe?" she asked.

"This is my daughter Simone Mae, and that's little Tallulah Mae. How are you, baby?" Daddy knelt and smiled at me and I couldn't help it, my hand just went and slapped him right across the face, harsh, shaking as it echoed in the almost empty lot. My hand felt like it was on fire and my cheeks flamed and I could already hear Peter's lecture about how violence is never the answer in the car (he was one of those nonviolent, peaceful protester types). I was going to be in so much trouble. His face fell and he looked at Momma. He stood up and grabbed her. "I see you've become just like your mother. We're leaving. It was nice seeing you, Simone. Congratulations."

Momma didn't start crying until we were in the car.

Simone and I sat in the back seat and Momma sat up front, shaking as she cried quietly. Peter and Isabel talked for a minute before he kissed her quickly and said goodbye to her. She was staying behind with some of her teacher friends. Peter took Momma home—she told him she didn't want to go—and then took us to the restaurant.

"Surprise!" our family and some of Simone's friends exclaimed, yelling loudly as the lights turned on. Simone burst into tears and ran past everyone and into the bathroom. I had a feeling they weren't tears of joy, either.

The party was mildly uneventful. There was cake. Dinner was okay. Lots of Simone's friends came and brought her presents. We danced. It would have been better if Momma had come though.

Later that evening, on the way home, I asked Peter about what had happened earlier, in the parking lot with Momma and Daddy. He pulled over and turned down the radio, sighing. He undid his tie a little, loosening it.

"Your mother and Billie fell in love when they were very, very young. Your mother was about Winona Mae's age when she met him—just a girl—and Billie was about Simone Mae's age. And Billie and I were friends—until he started dating my sister, anyway. Then they did things—things they shouldn't have done just yet because they were just kids—and one day, your mother came home and told my mother that she was pregnant. That's when she had Katie Mae. She couldn't even finish school because she had to take care of herself and your sister. Billie was—he tried being responsible about it. He married your mother when she was about six months along. They moved to an apartment that Billie's family gave to him because they owned the building. Your mother was happy with him, for a while, anyway. The problem was that he married her because he had to and she married him because she loved him."

"Why did he have to marry Momma?"

"Because, back then things were different. If you got a girl pregnant, you married her because it was just the right thing to do. You had to be responsible. And Billie's father was really strict and he wouldn't stand for his son not taking care of what was his." Peter sighed. "Your father got a job as a construction worker. Then your mother had Simone Mae right after. She dropped her off here before she went to her job."

"Momma worked?"

"She was a hotel maid." Peter shrugged. "She wanted to help make ends meet since your father only made so much and it wasn't enough to take care of all of them. They waited a few years before they had Winona Mae. Your father lost his job a few months after they had her, and since they couldn't pay their rent they had to find a new place to live. When you all moved to our house, your mother said that it was only going to be for a few weeks until your father found a job."

"Did he?"

"No. The problem was that he just didn't look for one. He spent all day sleeping and eating. My father tried letting him run the bakery—but he almost ran it into the ground so I took over. And then your momma had you." He swiped at my nose playfully. "Your mother got mad at your father—she didn't want to stay with us anymore—"

"Why?!" I exclaimed, surprised.

"Well, she just felt like she was in the way. There were six of you—her and your father and you four girls. Maybe she just wanted to have space. I don't know. I like having you guys around. Either way—she wanted him to get a job so they could find their own home. One day he came home and told us he found a spot at this mechanic place. We didn't think anything of it—until he started coming home later and later from work. He never brought home a single paycheck and your mother thought that it was just a little strange. He said that he was saving it at the bank and your mother believed him because she didn't see why she couldn't."

"Did Daddy lie?"

"Yes. He's a terrible liar and I don't understand how your mother could believe a single word that left his mouth, but that's not the point. One day, your momma went to the bank early to make some deposits for the bakery. She came about an hour or so before you came home from school and found your father with some other woman in the kitchen, doing things that you're only supposed to do with someone you love very, very much. Hilda came home right after that and did some things that weren't very nice to the lady so she could leave, and then your father kept trying to explain, but it was no use." He sighed. "Your parents got a divorce a few weeks after that."

"What's a divorce?"

"That's when a man and a woman don't love each other as much they used to and don't want to be together because of it. They split up everything and go their separate ways. They can have special friends or not, if that's what they want."

"Like you and Isabel?" He smiled a little, nodding.

"Yes, like me and Isabel."

"Momma doesn't have a special friend. Is that woman Daddy's special friend?"

"Your mother is a good woman and it's going to take a very special man to treat her right. That woman you met today is like your father's special friend, yes. Your mother and father aren't together anymore. She doesn't love him and he didn't ever love her. It's still rude for his special friend to show up like that, though. She didn't have a right to be there. It was about your sister, and your father turned it into making your mother jealous. But she doesn't have anything on your mother. Your mother is very smart and very, very beautiful, and your father let go of the best thing that was ever going to happen to him."

"So why did Momma get mad at Daddy's special friend? If they don't love each other anymore it shouldn't matter."

"Love isn't that easy, lil' bit." He turned up the radio a little and started driving home again, whistling.

"Do you love Isabel?"

"I think so."