The following short story is based on characters from my novel, What Was Missing.
It is told entirely from the point of view of Loretta Toussaint, Patrice's mother. We finally learn why she and Maya were so distant towards Patrice. It is not necessary to have read What Was Missing however it does contain major spoilers! (It also has some references intended for adult audiences only.)
For points of reference Loretta was born in 1952. Her first child, Maya is born in 1977 and Patrice is born in 1982. The story starts off in 2017 with her reminiscing about the past. Things in the South remain contentious but by the time Loretta is an adult, Jim Crow laws ended almost ten years prior (1965).
Copyright © 2018 by Tracie Momie
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including copying, pasting, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
It is told entirely from the point of view of Loretta Toussaint, Patrice's mother. We finally learn why she and Maya were so distant towards Patrice. It is not necessary to have read What Was Missing however it does contain major spoilers! (It also has some references intended for adult audiences only.)
For points of reference Loretta was born in 1952. Her first child, Maya is born in 1977 and Patrice is born in 1982. The story starts off in 2017 with her reminiscing about the past. Things in the South remain contentious but by the time Loretta is an adult, Jim Crow laws ended almost ten years prior (1965).
Copyright © 2018 by Tracie Momie
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including copying, pasting, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
Thanksgiving is in four days. I can’t believe another year has passed. Time was just flying by! I looked in my wallet to make sure I remembered to bring the Kroger gift card. The company where I worked gave them to all the employees who hadn't missed any work days during the year. It's supposed to be an incentive but not only did they hand them out late this year, they also reduced the amount. I hoped it would be enough for a nice sized turkey and a few ingredients for my side dishes. I needed a turkey big enough to feed at least eight people. This would be the first year Patrice has come home for Thanksgiving in almost fifteen years. And this time she's bringing her husband and daughter. Plus, there’s Maya, Tiny, and their boyfriends, so it's gonna be a big gathering this year.
We always had big holiday gatherings when I was growing up. We lived in a small house on the same land as my mama’s parents, my two uncles, their wives, and all my cousins. And every Thanksgiving we all got together in what we called the “big house” where my grandparents, Big Mama and Big Daddy lived. We never ate turkey on Thanksgiving instead we had fried chicken and pork roast from the animals Big Daddy raised on his farm. Big Mama picked collards, okra, and black-eyed peas straight from her garden to add to the meal. Mama and her sisters-in-law would make cornbread dressing, bake sweet potato pies and fresh from scratch dinner rolls. There would be plenty of food to go around and we'd sit and tell stories, laugh, and just have a grand old time. Those were my favorite memories from my childhood.
I cut my reminiscing short and pulled a grocery cart from the stall and headed into the store. I pushed the squeaky basket through the produce department and thought about going to get another one because the noise was getting on my nerves but I only had a few things to get, so I kept going.
It had surprised me when Patrice said she wanted to come for Thanksgiving this year. I just knew she'd want to have Thanksgiving in her big, fancy house in Union City. I always got the impression she was ashamed of us, well mainly me. And I didn't blame her. I'm a simple, country woman who didn't graduate high school, and I've never been much for socializing.
I sorted through the sweet potatoes trying to find the best ones and shook my head at how expensive they were– $2.99 a pound! It should be against the law to raise prices like that because of the holidays. I didn’t get my sweet potatoes in the ground early enough, so the ones in my garden wouldn’t be ready this year. There was nothing like growing your own fruits and vegetables; they were fresher and cheaper. After I bagged up the sweet potatoes, I tried to move my cart around a woman who was smack dab in the middle of the produce aisle on her phone.
“No, Jenny and Dave are not coming. I told you to make the Thanksgiving reservation for six,” she said to someone on the phone.
Thanksgiving reservations? It seemed unholy to eat Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Even when it was just me, Maya, and Tiny I still cooked a big meal. I guess maybe I was always trying to recreate the memories from my childhood.
I thought back to those times again and how things had changed after Big Mama and Big Daddy died. My family started to split apart; my sister and most of my cousins left home and started their own families. I had stopped going to school to help take care of the elders that lived on the property. I was their maid, nurse, and cook; it was a thankless, unpaid job that I couldn't rightly get out of. . . I mean it was expected that I help out since I didn't have a husband and still lived at home.
But all that changed when my cousin, Aileen came home to visit one summer. She had lived in New York for the past five years. She'd changed so much since I last saw her. She wore a lot of makeup, got her hair permed and talked differently. Nothing like the little country Alabama girl I once knew. I was so jealous of her I couldn’t see straight. I wanted to go to New York or California or any place other than the country town where I’d lived all my life.
Before Aileen went back to New York, she'd talked me into going to a party in town. The party was to honor men in the military service and was being held at the Admiral Hotel. Aileen told me if I didn’t have plans to finish school and go to college, I needed to find me a military man. She said that way I could get married, leave Alabama, and travel all over the world. Even though a man was the last thing on my mind I did like the idea of seeing the world, so I figured it couldn't hurt. After Aileen made up my face, pressed out my hair and I put on some of her high-priced clothes– I barely recognized myself. I knew I wasn't much to look at but she had managed to make me feel pretty.
When we got to the hotel, it turned out a lot of women had the same idea as Aileen because there ended up being more women at the party than men. But of course, Aileen found her a fella to talk to while I sat off in the corner by myself sipping on a cola. I was about to go look for Aileen and tell her I wanted to go home when someone pulled up a chair next to me. I glanced over and saw a man with dark brown skin wearing a khaki uniform and hat. He smiled and I noticed how nice his teeth were.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing sitting over here all by herself?” he asked.
His voice was deep and hoarse sounding. I didn’t have much experience being around men other than the men in my family and I was suddenly nervous. I scanned the crowd for Aileen.
“I’m here with my cousin,” I said not looking at him.
“I see. Well, do you mind if I keep you company until she comes back?” he asked.
I just shrugged still not looking at him. My heart felt like it was rattling around in my chest.
“My name is Patrick. Patrick Toussaint,”
I could see from the corner of my eye that he had his hand stuck out like he wanted me to shake it. I didn’t want to seem rude, so I turned slightly and extended my hand. Instead of letting go after he shook it, he gripped it a little tighter. I looked up at him afraid that he meant me harm.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” He asked letting go of my hand.
“Oh- um, Loretta. Loretta Henderson.” I said and my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and took a sip of my cola.
“No need to be skittish, I don’t mean you no harm.” He said reading my thoughts. “Just thought maybe you could use a friend. Do you have any friends? Other than your cousin?” he asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him then. He was handsome but he seemed a little too slick for me.
“I have plenty of friends,” I lied.
He laughed. This loud, booming laugh that took me by surprise.
“I just bet you do, Loretta,”
For some reason hearing him say my name gave me butterflies in my stomach, and my skin started to get warm all over.
I cleared my throat again. “So, what part of the military are you in?” I asked eyeing his uniform.
“Army. I’m a private first class, equipment specialist.” He said proudly.
“Do you get to travel a lot?” I inquired.
“I’ve been a few places,” he leaned back in his chair.
“Like where?” I asked turning my body fully towards him
“Paris, France. Germany. California, and Texas,” he shrugged.
My eyes widened. I'd never met anyone who had traveled so many places. “I bet that's exciting getting to see the world.”
He went on to tell me about all the amazing journeys he’d been on and things he’d seen. I was enchanted by him. He told me he was leaving for Washington State in two days and asked if he could write me he when he got back to the base. I was hesitant because I didn't know him and I didn't think it was a good idea to give a strange man my address. What if he was one of those serial killers?
"If you don't feel comfortable, I can give you my address and you can write me," he said reading my mind. I stared at him and bit my lip nervously before I responded.
"I think that might be a better way to start off," I decided. I'd have to get Aileen to help me, I didn't want him to think I was a country bumpkin who couldn't write a proper sentence.
Patrick gave me a card with his base information on it. I tucked it away in my handbag and when I got home later that evening I took it out and showed Aileen. She squealed and immediately took out a sheet of paper from Big Mama's old desk and started to write a letter. She said I shouldn't waste time and I needed to let him know I was interested. I didn't really know if I was interested in him or not. Sure, I wanted to get out of Alabama but I didn't know if I was ready to start a courtship with a man in another state. But once Aileen went off on a tangent, it was nearly impossible to stop her, so I just let her be. We mailed the letter the next day, and two days later Aileen left town.
After Aileen had been gone a while, it seemed like the party and meeting Patrick had all been a dream, that is until I got a letter from him. Daddy brought in the mail and raised an eyebrow at me. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner.
"What fella you know in the army?" he asked handing me the letter.
My eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. "I uh- I met him- he's a friend of Aileen's," I lied. My mama and daddy were always fond of Aileen. They probably wished she had been their daughter instead of me. I wiped my hands on my apron and took the letter from him.
"Mmhmm," was his only reply. "Well, what he doing writing you, if he a friend of Aileen's?"
I couldn't think of another lie to tell. It wasn't something I was good at. Instead I just shrugged and looked down at the letter.
"Be careful with this army man. Them kinda men just looking for some young, dumb woman to bed in every town. Don't fall for no foolishness," he said sternly.
"Yes, sir," I said as my voice shook mainly from anger. Had he just called me dumb?
Daddy gave me a few curious glances before leaving me alone. I stuffed the letter in my apron pocket and finished cooking dinner. I didn't open it until later that evening. I sat alone on the back porch with a lantern and tried to make out his writing under the dim light. I'd made it through half of eleventh grade, so I wasn't totally illiterate. I smiled as I started reading his letter. He thanked me for my letter and said he'd enjoyed talking to me at the party, and he still remembered my pretty smile, which made me smile even wider. He mentioned that he was going to Asia in a couple of months because the Vietnam war was finally coming to an end and they needed help getting all the troops home. He'd only been enlisted for a couple of years but had been lucky so far because he hadn't been called to fight in Vietnam.
I was glad the war was ending and he wouldn't have to go fight. Even though we'd just met, I didn't want him going off and getting hurt. We exchanged letters for over a month and then I didn’t hear from him for a while. The next time he wrote to me, he said that he'd been in an accident on base; he was okay but he wouldn't be going to Asia. Instead, he would be coming to visit me in a few weeks. I was excited and nervous at the same time because he said he had something to ask me. I called Aileen and told her about Patrick coming to see me; she said he was probably going to propose. I didn't believe it. I hadn't seen him in almost four months and all we'd done was exchange a few letters. Not to mention, he probably had women lined up all over the world. Why would he want to marry me?
But when he came to Alabama, he talked to my daddy and sure enough, Patrick asked me to marry him. I was speechless but I'd managed to nod my head to say yes. He put a plain gold band with a little diamond chip on my finger and we sat on the back porch and talked about our future until the sun went down. We talked about all the places we planned to visit and all the things he couldn’t wait to show me. I got so excited that I kissed him hard– right on the lips. He was a little shocked at first but then he grabbed me around the waist and kissed me back. A toe-curling kiss that made me feel like I was floating.
Patrick said he didn’t want to leave Alabama without me, so the following week we had a small wedding ceremony at the church. Aileen was beside herself that she wouldn't be there for my wedding day but I promised her that me and Patrick would visit her soon. The rest of my family thought I was pregnant and daddy was making me have a shotgun wedding. But they mostly fretted over who was gone take up the cooking and cleaning if I left. I told them they'd have to make do because I was quitting, which didn't make my daddy too happy. He told me not to forget where I came from and that family was the most important thing. I guess he didn't realize Patrick would become my family too. Not to mention, I was an adult with my own life.
My mama was a little more supportive although she had to add one of her famous backhanded compliments, "I'm happy for you. I mean I just knew you was gone end up being a spinster."
I thanked her and held my tongue. I was only twenty-four, but back then I may as well have been one hundred. My sister, Georgia was twenty-six, and had already gotten married and was on her third baby.
It goes without saying that I was a virgin on my wedding night; I had expected it to be a painful, awkward situation but Patrick was pretty experienced and he made it somewhat pleasant. Although it wasn’t bad by any measure, I just didn’t like the whole idea of sex. Mama had told me on more than one occasion that sex was only for a man and woman to make a baby. And I definitely wasn’t ready to have a baby. We had too much traveling and exploring to do.
A few days after we married, I packed up my belongings to head back to Washington with Patrick but first, we took a Greyhound bus from Alabama to Mississippi to see his mama. I was a little scared that she might not like me since her son had married me before she even got a say. He confessed that he'd talked his mama about me and told her that he planned on marrying me someday. I guess that day came a lot sooner than any of us expected.
When we arrived in Mississippi, we were met with some bad news– Patrick's mama had a stroke only two days before we got there and she was in a bad way. Patrick was her only child, so he felt it was his duty to take care of her until she got back on her feet. And as his new wife, it became my duty too. He took a leave from the military and we stayed with his mama, in a small two-bedroom house, for the next five months. I didn't want my family to know I hadn't gotten to travel since I'd made such a big deal about it, so I didn't keep in touch like I should have, I'm sure they all probably hated me. I became bitter during our time in Mississippi because we were supposed to be out traveling the world, not stuck in a town like the one I'd grown up in! And on top of everything else, I found out I was pregnant.
Patrick extended his leave from the Army and got a factory job in Mississippi to earn money for his mama's medicine and our new baby girl, Maya. Six months after Maya was born, Patrick's mama died. I know it’s wrong to say, but I was happy. I mean it wasn’t like she was living much of a life anyway. I guess I just wanted Patrick to return to the Army so we could start traveling with Maya. But it had been over a year and a half since he'd taken the leave, and the Army had officially discharged him. This put a deeper strain on our relationship. Not that we had much of a relationship to begin with, to be honest, I'd barely known him when we got married. I’d been fond of him because of the sweet letters he’d written but I think I fell in love with the idea of him saving me from a life stuck in Alabama. And almost two years later, I had only traveled over to the next state.
Patrick was content being in Mississippi and the longer we stayed there, the more I resented him. He worked a lot more hours after his mama died, and he'd also fixed up the house and added on a room to make it more comfortable. But he didn’t spend much time with me or Maya because he was always working or tired. After four years of steady work, Patrick got laid off from his job. He told me not to worry because he had a friend who was going to help him get another job in California that paid really well. I was overjoyed that we would finally be leaving the South.
But the week before we were supposed to leave, I got sick. I was pregnant again. I got so ill with the second baby that I had to go in the hospital and the doctor put me on bed rest. So, we put off the move to California and Patrick ended up finding another job.
We never left Mississippi.
“Excuse me,” A voice pulled me from my extended reminiscing and I realized I was the one blocking the aisle this time.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I moved out of the way. I pushed my cart farther down the baking aisle looking for some pastry flour, and as I stared down at the different brands, my mind drifted back to the past once more.
Patrick’s new job had good hours and good insurance benefits. He spent more time at home mainly doting on our new baby girl, Patrice. He'd come up with that name because it was similar to his own name, and he figured that was as close as he'd get to a Patrick Junior after the doctors told me I wouldn’t be able to have no more babies.
Patrice had her daddy’s dark skin tone and a big smile with deep dimples. She was a beautiful baby. Everybody said so. Maya was five years old when Patrice was born and I knew from the first day we brought her home from the hospital, she hated her little sister. I think she was jealous of all the attention Patrice got especially from her daddy.
A year after Patrice was born, my daddy died. I'd talked to my mama and daddy after Maya was born and told them about everything that had happened with Patrick's mama and how we hadn't left Mississippi. I'd hoped they'd offer up some words of encouragement to make me feel better about things but they seemed almost relieved that I hadn't gone anywhere or done anything. And at the time, daddy was a little put out that I'd helped take care of Patrick's mama instead of staying in Alabama to take care of my own mama. Never mind the fact that my mama wasn't sick and didn't need me to take care of her.
Daddy's funeral was like a family reunion, a lot of my cousins who I hadn't seen in over ten years showed up with kids and spouses I'd never met. Although we were all together, it was obvious we barely knew each other anymore. Even Aileen and I hardly said much to each other, she hugged the girls and told them how pretty they were and gave each of them a crisp five-dollar bill. Maya immediately fell in love with Aileen and asked if she could live with her. She cried and threw a fit when it was time to leave. I probably would've cried too had I known that would be my last time ever seeing Aileen again.
When we got back home to Mississippi, I'd hoped spending time with my family and being doted on by Aileen would make Maya feel differently about Patrice. I prayed she would get over her jealousy, towards Treesie (that’s what Patrick had started calling her). I wanted them to be close like me and Aileen used to be. But that never happened. I spent most of my time breaking up fights between the two of them. It was obvious that Patrice adored her big sister but Maya wouldn’t give her the time of day. And it bothered Patrick that Maya was so mean to his Treesie, he was constantly chastising Maya and spoiling Patrice not realizing it made the situation worse. I told him he should be nicer to Maya and maybe spend some one on one time with her.
He said she was too old to be acting that way. That she should know better, and he wasn’t going to reward her bad behavior. I guess he didn’t know he was the reason for the bad behavior. It tore Maya up that Patrice was his favorite and that they had such a special bond. And because she couldn’t rightly take it out on her daddy, she took it out on Patrice. Meanwhile, I became more withdrawn and unhappy as the years went on with all the constant tension in the house. I spent a lot of time alone in the garden I'd started in the backyard. It was the only place I felt any peace or happiness.
Patrice never came out in the garden, she didn’t like the bugs. She was always so prissy even as a little girl. But when I brought in stuff to cook, she always pulled up a stool and watched me or passed me things. We didn’t really talk but it was nice having her there with me. She ended up being a pretty good cook by just watching what I was doing. By this time, Maya was a teenager and headed down the wrong path. I'd caught her smoking cigarettes with the fast tail girls down the street and she was always smiling up in some boy’s face. But it seemed the more I tried to reach her, the more it pushed her away, so after a while I just let her be.
Me and Patrick continued to have problems as well. He’d started spending more time away from home and slept on the couch when he did come home. I just knew one day he would leave me– leave his girls– and go shack up with Dottie Jackson. It was all over town that he’d been spending time with her but he'd stayed with us. He stayed up until the day he died from a heart attack on his way to work.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn't know why all those thoughts had come back to me. It had been over twenty years since Patrick died. It had been hard, really hard after his passing but I made it through. I got a job cleaning houses and made sure my girls had a roof over their head, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I did it even though I had hated every single minute of being a wife, a mother, and a prisoner in my life. And to make matters worse– two years after Patrick died, Maya had gotten pregnant at seventeen. Even though I loved my granddaughter, I definitely wasn’t prepared for another mouth to feed. Things unraveled even more and sometimes just being in the house was unbearable. I considered running away from the three of them several times but I could never do it. However, the minute Patrice graduated high school, she left and never looked back. I couldn’t blame her yet I was mad at her for escaping and leaving me there with the burden of her sister and niece.
But that was then. . . .I was an old woman now. Pretty much free to do what I wanted. Or at least that’s what people told me. I didn’t feel like I was free or that I had any more options than I did before. I was happy that I'd at least I'd gotten to travel to California and to Union City, both times for Patrice’s weddings. She'd gotten lucky and married two different men who were both very well off. Although I'm not sure the first marriage really counted since it turned out he was gay, but she'd found love again and I was happy for her.
Maya had finally moved out last year and left Mississippi with her beau Albert, they lived in Atlanta now. And Tiny was in college living on campus at Jackson State.
I'd always felt my life had been interrupted because instead of getting an education or seeing the world, I'd spent most of my life taking care of other people. I'd never had the opportunity to find out what I really wanted to do or who I really wanted to be. Patrice had offered to send me on a cruise to Mexico for single senior citizens. I told her I would pass on her offer. I mean what was I gone do on a boat full of strangers all by myself? And I had no interest in finding a man. I’d gotten content living my life. Granted it wasn’t much of a life but it was finally my own and it was nice to have a break from other people depending on me so much.
I picked up a bag of flour and looked at the price and shook my head. Highway robbery. But I needed it to make my dinner rolls; they practically melted in your mouth. I always got so many compliments on my cooking. People told me that I needed to sell my vegetables or my bread or my homemade soups. It made me feel good when people carried on about my cooking but I didn’t have the time or interest in starting a business. Besides, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I thought about what kind of life I would've had if I'd never met Patrick. Or if I would've graduated high school and went to college. I wondered if I would've joined Aileen in New York. Maybe I could have started a business– a restaurant with fresh soul food on the menu. And maybe I would have done some traveling on my own, so that when I did meet a man I wouldn't have expected for him to save me.
I sighed. There was no going back and changing the past. I only had today because tomorrow wasn't even promised, so I just needed to focus on the here and now. Besides, I was luckier than most– I was still alive, healthy, and in my right mind.
Aileen had gotten breast cancer a few years back and passed away. She'd never gotten married or had any children. I wondered if she'd ever regretted that. I'd had some regrets about getting married and having children but thinking back on it all now, I can't imagine not having my girls, which meant I owed Patrick some measure of gratitude.
I grabbed a few more things including a really nice size turkey and headed to the front of the crowded store to pay. I got lucky when they opened up a lane next to me and the cashier waved me over. I used the gift card but I still had to put a few more dollars with it. Once the cashier bagged my items, I made my way outside and put the groceries in the trunk of my Toyota Prius. I got in the car and smiled. I’d been doing that a lot more lately. Smiling. Patrice and Maya had finally developed a sisterly bond and even me and Patrice had grown closer mainly because of her daughter– my new grandbaby, Sophie. So, it was like I was getting a second chance all the way around. It was funny how life worked sometimes, even though I'd gone down a road I hadn't really meant to take, somehow, I still ended up exactly where I needed to be and for that, I was extremely grateful.
We always had big holiday gatherings when I was growing up. We lived in a small house on the same land as my mama’s parents, my two uncles, their wives, and all my cousins. And every Thanksgiving we all got together in what we called the “big house” where my grandparents, Big Mama and Big Daddy lived. We never ate turkey on Thanksgiving instead we had fried chicken and pork roast from the animals Big Daddy raised on his farm. Big Mama picked collards, okra, and black-eyed peas straight from her garden to add to the meal. Mama and her sisters-in-law would make cornbread dressing, bake sweet potato pies and fresh from scratch dinner rolls. There would be plenty of food to go around and we'd sit and tell stories, laugh, and just have a grand old time. Those were my favorite memories from my childhood.
I cut my reminiscing short and pulled a grocery cart from the stall and headed into the store. I pushed the squeaky basket through the produce department and thought about going to get another one because the noise was getting on my nerves but I only had a few things to get, so I kept going.
It had surprised me when Patrice said she wanted to come for Thanksgiving this year. I just knew she'd want to have Thanksgiving in her big, fancy house in Union City. I always got the impression she was ashamed of us, well mainly me. And I didn't blame her. I'm a simple, country woman who didn't graduate high school, and I've never been much for socializing.
I sorted through the sweet potatoes trying to find the best ones and shook my head at how expensive they were– $2.99 a pound! It should be against the law to raise prices like that because of the holidays. I didn’t get my sweet potatoes in the ground early enough, so the ones in my garden wouldn’t be ready this year. There was nothing like growing your own fruits and vegetables; they were fresher and cheaper. After I bagged up the sweet potatoes, I tried to move my cart around a woman who was smack dab in the middle of the produce aisle on her phone.
“No, Jenny and Dave are not coming. I told you to make the Thanksgiving reservation for six,” she said to someone on the phone.
Thanksgiving reservations? It seemed unholy to eat Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Even when it was just me, Maya, and Tiny I still cooked a big meal. I guess maybe I was always trying to recreate the memories from my childhood.
I thought back to those times again and how things had changed after Big Mama and Big Daddy died. My family started to split apart; my sister and most of my cousins left home and started their own families. I had stopped going to school to help take care of the elders that lived on the property. I was their maid, nurse, and cook; it was a thankless, unpaid job that I couldn't rightly get out of. . . I mean it was expected that I help out since I didn't have a husband and still lived at home.
But all that changed when my cousin, Aileen came home to visit one summer. She had lived in New York for the past five years. She'd changed so much since I last saw her. She wore a lot of makeup, got her hair permed and talked differently. Nothing like the little country Alabama girl I once knew. I was so jealous of her I couldn’t see straight. I wanted to go to New York or California or any place other than the country town where I’d lived all my life.
Before Aileen went back to New York, she'd talked me into going to a party in town. The party was to honor men in the military service and was being held at the Admiral Hotel. Aileen told me if I didn’t have plans to finish school and go to college, I needed to find me a military man. She said that way I could get married, leave Alabama, and travel all over the world. Even though a man was the last thing on my mind I did like the idea of seeing the world, so I figured it couldn't hurt. After Aileen made up my face, pressed out my hair and I put on some of her high-priced clothes– I barely recognized myself. I knew I wasn't much to look at but she had managed to make me feel pretty.
When we got to the hotel, it turned out a lot of women had the same idea as Aileen because there ended up being more women at the party than men. But of course, Aileen found her a fella to talk to while I sat off in the corner by myself sipping on a cola. I was about to go look for Aileen and tell her I wanted to go home when someone pulled up a chair next to me. I glanced over and saw a man with dark brown skin wearing a khaki uniform and hat. He smiled and I noticed how nice his teeth were.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing sitting over here all by herself?” he asked.
His voice was deep and hoarse sounding. I didn’t have much experience being around men other than the men in my family and I was suddenly nervous. I scanned the crowd for Aileen.
“I’m here with my cousin,” I said not looking at him.
“I see. Well, do you mind if I keep you company until she comes back?” he asked.
I just shrugged still not looking at him. My heart felt like it was rattling around in my chest.
“My name is Patrick. Patrick Toussaint,”
I could see from the corner of my eye that he had his hand stuck out like he wanted me to shake it. I didn’t want to seem rude, so I turned slightly and extended my hand. Instead of letting go after he shook it, he gripped it a little tighter. I looked up at him afraid that he meant me harm.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” He asked letting go of my hand.
“Oh- um, Loretta. Loretta Henderson.” I said and my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and took a sip of my cola.
“No need to be skittish, I don’t mean you no harm.” He said reading my thoughts. “Just thought maybe you could use a friend. Do you have any friends? Other than your cousin?” he asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him then. He was handsome but he seemed a little too slick for me.
“I have plenty of friends,” I lied.
He laughed. This loud, booming laugh that took me by surprise.
“I just bet you do, Loretta,”
For some reason hearing him say my name gave me butterflies in my stomach, and my skin started to get warm all over.
I cleared my throat again. “So, what part of the military are you in?” I asked eyeing his uniform.
“Army. I’m a private first class, equipment specialist.” He said proudly.
“Do you get to travel a lot?” I inquired.
“I’ve been a few places,” he leaned back in his chair.
“Like where?” I asked turning my body fully towards him
“Paris, France. Germany. California, and Texas,” he shrugged.
My eyes widened. I'd never met anyone who had traveled so many places. “I bet that's exciting getting to see the world.”
He went on to tell me about all the amazing journeys he’d been on and things he’d seen. I was enchanted by him. He told me he was leaving for Washington State in two days and asked if he could write me he when he got back to the base. I was hesitant because I didn't know him and I didn't think it was a good idea to give a strange man my address. What if he was one of those serial killers?
"If you don't feel comfortable, I can give you my address and you can write me," he said reading my mind. I stared at him and bit my lip nervously before I responded.
"I think that might be a better way to start off," I decided. I'd have to get Aileen to help me, I didn't want him to think I was a country bumpkin who couldn't write a proper sentence.
Patrick gave me a card with his base information on it. I tucked it away in my handbag and when I got home later that evening I took it out and showed Aileen. She squealed and immediately took out a sheet of paper from Big Mama's old desk and started to write a letter. She said I shouldn't waste time and I needed to let him know I was interested. I didn't really know if I was interested in him or not. Sure, I wanted to get out of Alabama but I didn't know if I was ready to start a courtship with a man in another state. But once Aileen went off on a tangent, it was nearly impossible to stop her, so I just let her be. We mailed the letter the next day, and two days later Aileen left town.
After Aileen had been gone a while, it seemed like the party and meeting Patrick had all been a dream, that is until I got a letter from him. Daddy brought in the mail and raised an eyebrow at me. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner.
"What fella you know in the army?" he asked handing me the letter.
My eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. "I uh- I met him- he's a friend of Aileen's," I lied. My mama and daddy were always fond of Aileen. They probably wished she had been their daughter instead of me. I wiped my hands on my apron and took the letter from him.
"Mmhmm," was his only reply. "Well, what he doing writing you, if he a friend of Aileen's?"
I couldn't think of another lie to tell. It wasn't something I was good at. Instead I just shrugged and looked down at the letter.
"Be careful with this army man. Them kinda men just looking for some young, dumb woman to bed in every town. Don't fall for no foolishness," he said sternly.
"Yes, sir," I said as my voice shook mainly from anger. Had he just called me dumb?
Daddy gave me a few curious glances before leaving me alone. I stuffed the letter in my apron pocket and finished cooking dinner. I didn't open it until later that evening. I sat alone on the back porch with a lantern and tried to make out his writing under the dim light. I'd made it through half of eleventh grade, so I wasn't totally illiterate. I smiled as I started reading his letter. He thanked me for my letter and said he'd enjoyed talking to me at the party, and he still remembered my pretty smile, which made me smile even wider. He mentioned that he was going to Asia in a couple of months because the Vietnam war was finally coming to an end and they needed help getting all the troops home. He'd only been enlisted for a couple of years but had been lucky so far because he hadn't been called to fight in Vietnam.
I was glad the war was ending and he wouldn't have to go fight. Even though we'd just met, I didn't want him going off and getting hurt. We exchanged letters for over a month and then I didn’t hear from him for a while. The next time he wrote to me, he said that he'd been in an accident on base; he was okay but he wouldn't be going to Asia. Instead, he would be coming to visit me in a few weeks. I was excited and nervous at the same time because he said he had something to ask me. I called Aileen and told her about Patrick coming to see me; she said he was probably going to propose. I didn't believe it. I hadn't seen him in almost four months and all we'd done was exchange a few letters. Not to mention, he probably had women lined up all over the world. Why would he want to marry me?
But when he came to Alabama, he talked to my daddy and sure enough, Patrick asked me to marry him. I was speechless but I'd managed to nod my head to say yes. He put a plain gold band with a little diamond chip on my finger and we sat on the back porch and talked about our future until the sun went down. We talked about all the places we planned to visit and all the things he couldn’t wait to show me. I got so excited that I kissed him hard– right on the lips. He was a little shocked at first but then he grabbed me around the waist and kissed me back. A toe-curling kiss that made me feel like I was floating.
Patrick said he didn’t want to leave Alabama without me, so the following week we had a small wedding ceremony at the church. Aileen was beside herself that she wouldn't be there for my wedding day but I promised her that me and Patrick would visit her soon. The rest of my family thought I was pregnant and daddy was making me have a shotgun wedding. But they mostly fretted over who was gone take up the cooking and cleaning if I left. I told them they'd have to make do because I was quitting, which didn't make my daddy too happy. He told me not to forget where I came from and that family was the most important thing. I guess he didn't realize Patrick would become my family too. Not to mention, I was an adult with my own life.
My mama was a little more supportive although she had to add one of her famous backhanded compliments, "I'm happy for you. I mean I just knew you was gone end up being a spinster."
I thanked her and held my tongue. I was only twenty-four, but back then I may as well have been one hundred. My sister, Georgia was twenty-six, and had already gotten married and was on her third baby.
It goes without saying that I was a virgin on my wedding night; I had expected it to be a painful, awkward situation but Patrick was pretty experienced and he made it somewhat pleasant. Although it wasn’t bad by any measure, I just didn’t like the whole idea of sex. Mama had told me on more than one occasion that sex was only for a man and woman to make a baby. And I definitely wasn’t ready to have a baby. We had too much traveling and exploring to do.
A few days after we married, I packed up my belongings to head back to Washington with Patrick but first, we took a Greyhound bus from Alabama to Mississippi to see his mama. I was a little scared that she might not like me since her son had married me before she even got a say. He confessed that he'd talked his mama about me and told her that he planned on marrying me someday. I guess that day came a lot sooner than any of us expected.
When we arrived in Mississippi, we were met with some bad news– Patrick's mama had a stroke only two days before we got there and she was in a bad way. Patrick was her only child, so he felt it was his duty to take care of her until she got back on her feet. And as his new wife, it became my duty too. He took a leave from the military and we stayed with his mama, in a small two-bedroom house, for the next five months. I didn't want my family to know I hadn't gotten to travel since I'd made such a big deal about it, so I didn't keep in touch like I should have, I'm sure they all probably hated me. I became bitter during our time in Mississippi because we were supposed to be out traveling the world, not stuck in a town like the one I'd grown up in! And on top of everything else, I found out I was pregnant.
Patrick extended his leave from the Army and got a factory job in Mississippi to earn money for his mama's medicine and our new baby girl, Maya. Six months after Maya was born, Patrick's mama died. I know it’s wrong to say, but I was happy. I mean it wasn’t like she was living much of a life anyway. I guess I just wanted Patrick to return to the Army so we could start traveling with Maya. But it had been over a year and a half since he'd taken the leave, and the Army had officially discharged him. This put a deeper strain on our relationship. Not that we had much of a relationship to begin with, to be honest, I'd barely known him when we got married. I’d been fond of him because of the sweet letters he’d written but I think I fell in love with the idea of him saving me from a life stuck in Alabama. And almost two years later, I had only traveled over to the next state.
Patrick was content being in Mississippi and the longer we stayed there, the more I resented him. He worked a lot more hours after his mama died, and he'd also fixed up the house and added on a room to make it more comfortable. But he didn’t spend much time with me or Maya because he was always working or tired. After four years of steady work, Patrick got laid off from his job. He told me not to worry because he had a friend who was going to help him get another job in California that paid really well. I was overjoyed that we would finally be leaving the South.
But the week before we were supposed to leave, I got sick. I was pregnant again. I got so ill with the second baby that I had to go in the hospital and the doctor put me on bed rest. So, we put off the move to California and Patrick ended up finding another job.
We never left Mississippi.
“Excuse me,” A voice pulled me from my extended reminiscing and I realized I was the one blocking the aisle this time.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I moved out of the way. I pushed my cart farther down the baking aisle looking for some pastry flour, and as I stared down at the different brands, my mind drifted back to the past once more.
Patrick’s new job had good hours and good insurance benefits. He spent more time at home mainly doting on our new baby girl, Patrice. He'd come up with that name because it was similar to his own name, and he figured that was as close as he'd get to a Patrick Junior after the doctors told me I wouldn’t be able to have no more babies.
Patrice had her daddy’s dark skin tone and a big smile with deep dimples. She was a beautiful baby. Everybody said so. Maya was five years old when Patrice was born and I knew from the first day we brought her home from the hospital, she hated her little sister. I think she was jealous of all the attention Patrice got especially from her daddy.
A year after Patrice was born, my daddy died. I'd talked to my mama and daddy after Maya was born and told them about everything that had happened with Patrick's mama and how we hadn't left Mississippi. I'd hoped they'd offer up some words of encouragement to make me feel better about things but they seemed almost relieved that I hadn't gone anywhere or done anything. And at the time, daddy was a little put out that I'd helped take care of Patrick's mama instead of staying in Alabama to take care of my own mama. Never mind the fact that my mama wasn't sick and didn't need me to take care of her.
Daddy's funeral was like a family reunion, a lot of my cousins who I hadn't seen in over ten years showed up with kids and spouses I'd never met. Although we were all together, it was obvious we barely knew each other anymore. Even Aileen and I hardly said much to each other, she hugged the girls and told them how pretty they were and gave each of them a crisp five-dollar bill. Maya immediately fell in love with Aileen and asked if she could live with her. She cried and threw a fit when it was time to leave. I probably would've cried too had I known that would be my last time ever seeing Aileen again.
When we got back home to Mississippi, I'd hoped spending time with my family and being doted on by Aileen would make Maya feel differently about Patrice. I prayed she would get over her jealousy, towards Treesie (that’s what Patrick had started calling her). I wanted them to be close like me and Aileen used to be. But that never happened. I spent most of my time breaking up fights between the two of them. It was obvious that Patrice adored her big sister but Maya wouldn’t give her the time of day. And it bothered Patrick that Maya was so mean to his Treesie, he was constantly chastising Maya and spoiling Patrice not realizing it made the situation worse. I told him he should be nicer to Maya and maybe spend some one on one time with her.
He said she was too old to be acting that way. That she should know better, and he wasn’t going to reward her bad behavior. I guess he didn’t know he was the reason for the bad behavior. It tore Maya up that Patrice was his favorite and that they had such a special bond. And because she couldn’t rightly take it out on her daddy, she took it out on Patrice. Meanwhile, I became more withdrawn and unhappy as the years went on with all the constant tension in the house. I spent a lot of time alone in the garden I'd started in the backyard. It was the only place I felt any peace or happiness.
Patrice never came out in the garden, she didn’t like the bugs. She was always so prissy even as a little girl. But when I brought in stuff to cook, she always pulled up a stool and watched me or passed me things. We didn’t really talk but it was nice having her there with me. She ended up being a pretty good cook by just watching what I was doing. By this time, Maya was a teenager and headed down the wrong path. I'd caught her smoking cigarettes with the fast tail girls down the street and she was always smiling up in some boy’s face. But it seemed the more I tried to reach her, the more it pushed her away, so after a while I just let her be.
Me and Patrick continued to have problems as well. He’d started spending more time away from home and slept on the couch when he did come home. I just knew one day he would leave me– leave his girls– and go shack up with Dottie Jackson. It was all over town that he’d been spending time with her but he'd stayed with us. He stayed up until the day he died from a heart attack on his way to work.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn't know why all those thoughts had come back to me. It had been over twenty years since Patrick died. It had been hard, really hard after his passing but I made it through. I got a job cleaning houses and made sure my girls had a roof over their head, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I did it even though I had hated every single minute of being a wife, a mother, and a prisoner in my life. And to make matters worse– two years after Patrick died, Maya had gotten pregnant at seventeen. Even though I loved my granddaughter, I definitely wasn’t prepared for another mouth to feed. Things unraveled even more and sometimes just being in the house was unbearable. I considered running away from the three of them several times but I could never do it. However, the minute Patrice graduated high school, she left and never looked back. I couldn’t blame her yet I was mad at her for escaping and leaving me there with the burden of her sister and niece.
But that was then. . . .I was an old woman now. Pretty much free to do what I wanted. Or at least that’s what people told me. I didn’t feel like I was free or that I had any more options than I did before. I was happy that I'd at least I'd gotten to travel to California and to Union City, both times for Patrice’s weddings. She'd gotten lucky and married two different men who were both very well off. Although I'm not sure the first marriage really counted since it turned out he was gay, but she'd found love again and I was happy for her.
Maya had finally moved out last year and left Mississippi with her beau Albert, they lived in Atlanta now. And Tiny was in college living on campus at Jackson State.
I'd always felt my life had been interrupted because instead of getting an education or seeing the world, I'd spent most of my life taking care of other people. I'd never had the opportunity to find out what I really wanted to do or who I really wanted to be. Patrice had offered to send me on a cruise to Mexico for single senior citizens. I told her I would pass on her offer. I mean what was I gone do on a boat full of strangers all by myself? And I had no interest in finding a man. I’d gotten content living my life. Granted it wasn’t much of a life but it was finally my own and it was nice to have a break from other people depending on me so much.
I picked up a bag of flour and looked at the price and shook my head. Highway robbery. But I needed it to make my dinner rolls; they practically melted in your mouth. I always got so many compliments on my cooking. People told me that I needed to sell my vegetables or my bread or my homemade soups. It made me feel good when people carried on about my cooking but I didn’t have the time or interest in starting a business. Besides, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I thought about what kind of life I would've had if I'd never met Patrick. Or if I would've graduated high school and went to college. I wondered if I would've joined Aileen in New York. Maybe I could have started a business– a restaurant with fresh soul food on the menu. And maybe I would have done some traveling on my own, so that when I did meet a man I wouldn't have expected for him to save me.
I sighed. There was no going back and changing the past. I only had today because tomorrow wasn't even promised, so I just needed to focus on the here and now. Besides, I was luckier than most– I was still alive, healthy, and in my right mind.
Aileen had gotten breast cancer a few years back and passed away. She'd never gotten married or had any children. I wondered if she'd ever regretted that. I'd had some regrets about getting married and having children but thinking back on it all now, I can't imagine not having my girls, which meant I owed Patrick some measure of gratitude.
I grabbed a few more things including a really nice size turkey and headed to the front of the crowded store to pay. I got lucky when they opened up a lane next to me and the cashier waved me over. I used the gift card but I still had to put a few more dollars with it. Once the cashier bagged my items, I made my way outside and put the groceries in the trunk of my Toyota Prius. I got in the car and smiled. I’d been doing that a lot more lately. Smiling. Patrice and Maya had finally developed a sisterly bond and even me and Patrice had grown closer mainly because of her daughter– my new grandbaby, Sophie. So, it was like I was getting a second chance all the way around. It was funny how life worked sometimes, even though I'd gone down a road I hadn't really meant to take, somehow, I still ended up exactly where I needed to be and for that, I was extremely grateful.