Hooker when she was just twelve. I would always believe that books like that had contributed to her two abortions, her torrid lesbian relationship with another teenage girl, her arrogant personality, and only God knew what else. Lately, I’d been thinking about writing a book myself after all the shit I’d been through. It would give me more to do with all the time I had on my hands.
Had it not been for my job as a manager at Mizelle’s Collection Agency, I didn’t know what I would have done with myself. I usually took my breaks in my office. Since I had a large corner office all to myself, which I had decorated with a red oak desk and matching cabinets, I had privacy and all the comforts of home. I had a portable black-and-white TV on a small oak credenza next to my desk, which I could watch during my breaks or lunch. I kept a mini-refrigerator in a corner by the window, which was always stocked with bottled water, juice, and even a few beers. There was even a low sofa against the wall by the door, which I could stretch out on when I wanted to.
40
Mary Monroe
I had worked most of my adult life, but Rhoda had lived a life of leisure for most of hers and still did, in my opinion. During our teens, while I had worked in the bean fields to earn some of my spending money, she’d lounged around the huge house that her daddy owned, trying to decide what to buy next with all the money she had access to. Her daddy had been the only black funeral director in Richland, Ohio, at the time. One thing about black folks back then was that they could always be counted on to keep a funeral director in business. Sadly, that was still true today, even more so. We had an increasing problem with gangs and drugs to thank for that. The current black funeral director was the wealthiest black man in town.
Rhoda called my office around ten that morning. “Are we still on for drinks this evenin’?” she asked, yawning into the phone like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“I hope so,” I said, my voice dry. “I can’t leave until five, though.”
“You are the boss. You can leave whenever you want to,” Rhoda replied. “I do.”
“You don’t have a real job, Rhoda. You can afford to do whatever you want to do,” I reminded her.
“You might not think what I do is real work, but it is,” she replied and pouted.
Rhoda operated a licensed child-care center. She took care of several children in her home, all under five, five days a week, while their parents worked. She had Lizel and another woman from the church working for her. They did most of the work, while Rhoda kicked back with her lover or went shopping with me on my lunch break. I was used to Rhoda protesting and pouting when I accused her of not having a real job.
“Uh, I hope you don’t mind if Louis joins us. I really want you to get to know him better,” I blurted.
“I already know him. I’m the one who hooked you up with him in the first place, remember?”
“I know that. I just want you to get to know him as well as I do now.”
“Look, girl. My agin’ pussy gets enough action already,” Rhoda said and chuckled. “You sharin’ your barbecued ribs or chicken GOD AIN’ T BLIND
41
with me is one thing, but Louis is one piece of meat you can keep all to yourself.”
“Be serious,” I scolded. “He . . . he’s already changed my life in a big way. I can’t stand not being around him.”
“Now you just hold on there a minute, Glenn Close, as in that old movie Fatal Attraction . I do not want to be part of any crazy stalking shit, if that’s what this is. I hope you tell me that this little ditty is nothin’ more than a fling.” I could hear Rhoda grinding her teeth.
“I would never get that crazy over a man,” I snapped.
“I sure as hell hope not. I don’t want you to get so caught up in this affair that you leave Pee Wee. I can’t hurt him after all these years that he and I have been so close.”
“Rhoda, I’m the one
Had it not been for my job as a manager at Mizelle’s Collection Agency, I didn’t know what I would have done with myself. I usually took my breaks in my office. Since I had a large corner office all to myself, which I had decorated with a red oak desk and matching cabinets, I had privacy and all the comforts of home. I had a portable black-and-white TV on a small oak credenza next to my desk, which I could watch during my breaks or lunch. I kept a mini-refrigerator in a corner by the window, which was always stocked with bottled water, juice, and even a few beers. There was even a low sofa against the wall by the door, which I could stretch out on when I wanted to.
40
Mary Monroe
I had worked most of my adult life, but Rhoda had lived a life of leisure for most of hers and still did, in my opinion. During our teens, while I had worked in the bean fields to earn some of my spending money, she’d lounged around the huge house that her daddy owned, trying to decide what to buy next with all the money she had access to. Her daddy had been the only black funeral director in Richland, Ohio, at the time. One thing about black folks back then was that they could always be counted on to keep a funeral director in business. Sadly, that was still true today, even more so. We had an increasing problem with gangs and drugs to thank for that. The current black funeral director was the wealthiest black man in town.
Rhoda called my office around ten that morning. “Are we still on for drinks this evenin’?” she asked, yawning into the phone like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“I hope so,” I said, my voice dry. “I can’t leave until five, though.”
“You are the boss. You can leave whenever you want to,” Rhoda replied. “I do.”
“You don’t have a real job, Rhoda. You can afford to do whatever you want to do,” I reminded her.
“You might not think what I do is real work, but it is,” she replied and pouted.
Rhoda operated a licensed child-care center. She took care of several children in her home, all under five, five days a week, while their parents worked. She had Lizel and another woman from the church working for her. They did most of the work, while Rhoda kicked back with her lover or went shopping with me on my lunch break. I was used to Rhoda protesting and pouting when I accused her of not having a real job.
“Uh, I hope you don’t mind if Louis joins us. I really want you to get to know him better,” I blurted.
“I already know him. I’m the one who hooked you up with him in the first place, remember?”
“I know that. I just want you to get to know him as well as I do now.”
“Look, girl. My agin’ pussy gets enough action already,” Rhoda said and chuckled. “You sharin’ your barbecued ribs or chicken GOD AIN’ T BLIND
41
with me is one thing, but Louis is one piece of meat you can keep all to yourself.”
“Be serious,” I scolded. “He . . . he’s already changed my life in a big way. I can’t stand not being around him.”
“Now you just hold on there a minute, Glenn Close, as in that old movie Fatal Attraction . I do not want to be part of any crazy stalking shit, if that’s what this is. I hope you tell me that this little ditty is nothin’ more than a fling.” I could hear Rhoda grinding her teeth.
“I would never get that crazy over a man,” I snapped.
“I sure as hell hope not. I don’t want you to get so caught up in this affair that you leave Pee Wee. I can’t hurt him after all these years that he and I have been so close.”
“Rhoda, I’m the one
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