Her Mother’s Daughter (Re: WWP #35)

[Wendi S. Harrington]

[caption id="attachment_193" align="alignleft" width="300"] Like mother, like daughter.[/caption]

Marcy watched Raymond carry Mrs. Harris’ bags up the stairs and then return for hers. No one had even asked him to load up their stuff. She thought about the message Bro. Sparks had preached a couple of weeks ago about being a servant of the Lord.

“He takes good care of his mama.” Mrs. Harris’ voice broke her reverie.

“Yes, he does.” Marcy agreed hastily. She took another drink of her tea and wondered how long she had been staring at Ray and how long Mrs. Harris had been watching her.

“Well, he takes after his dad.” Mrs. Harris smiled and took a drink of her tea. “And then with an uncle like Lyle.”

“And Jesus,” Marcy said softly.

“And Jesus.” Mrs. Harris nodded, looking over Marcy’s head. Her smile widened. “There you are. I was about to give up on you. Did you get lost?”

Marcy heard Mr. Johnson’s voice behind her. “Stopped to see Dinny.”

“Oh really? I should’ve gone with you. I haven’t seen her in ages. How is she?” Mrs. Harris was already standing, putting food into another plate for him.

“God awful mess. Cops picked up Travis for first-degree rape last Friday.”

Marcy choked on her sandwich. She felt strong arms lift her up and a firm clap on her back. When she continued to cough, Ray kicked the chair out from behind her, stepping against her with both hands clutched at her belly button. In unison, Mrs. Harris dabbed her forehead with a wet paper towel, while Raymond clapped her back again, and Mr. Johnson lifted her chair off the floor. She was mortified to see the lump of food clumped on the table, but she still couldn’t catch her breath.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Harris asked her, wiping her forehead again. Marcy could feel spit on her chin and was aware that Ray still had his arm around her. She clutched at a napkin and wiped her chin. She gulped in the air and coughed again, holding the napkin to her mouth. When the coughing subsided, she continued to hold the napkin against her mouth while she forced herself to breathe slowly. Her throat burned where the food had gotten stuck. She lowered herself into her chair and was relieved when Ray stepped back.

“Wrong pipe.” She said quietly. She took a sip of her tea and waited, but no coughing followed. She took another sip.

Mrs. Harris watched Marcy closely for a minute and then turned her attention back to Mr. Johnson. “Rape?”

“First degree. Dinny’s beside herself with fretting. Prayed for her, didn’t know what more to do.” Mr. Johnson’s voice was somber.

“Oh no, Lyle. What’s she gonna do?” Mrs. Harris asked him.

“Don’t know, Ginny. But she’s sure gonna need us.”

“Yes, I’ll go see her before we head out.” Mrs. Harris turned to Marcy. “Can you stay here?”

Marcy nodded, forcing herself to breathe slowly. Her mind whirled in circles. Travis was arrested? For rape? Her heart began to pound as memories circled her like vultures. Well, if it isn’t Gabby Gibby, Travis said. Travis Tucker, you are so stupid! S-T-U-P-I-D! Kellie sang. He’s such a jerk. I hate his guts. Karen told her. Nice talking to you, Gabby. Travis whispered.

“Do you need to lie down?” Raymond asked her. His voice startled her.

“What?”

“You don’t look good. Do you need to lie down?” His eyes were looking at her too close, digging too deep. She didn’t like it. Kellie’s remark came back to her. Bossy boyfriend you got there. What had she meant by that?

“Maybe.” She stood, ignoring the hand he had outstretched toward her. She gave herself a few seconds to get her bearings and smoothed her blouse. There were two wet spots where her spit had landed. A wave of nausea rose up and passed. She pressed a hand against her stomach and clutched a napkin in the other.

Ray followed her to the room. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. thanks.” She closed the door, praying he didn’t see her hands trembling. She sat down on the bed. Her mind replayed that day with Travis freshman year. Nice talking to you Gabby. She had thought for a moment he was going to kiss her. And she had wanted him to. But then Kellie had showed up and started belting out her stupid song. Karen and Brad were across the park, headed their way. Travis ducked his head, exhaling slowly, and then looked at her with a sad smile. Nice talking to you Gabby.

She didn’t want him to go. She wanted her friends to act like decent human beings. Why were they always so mean to him? It wasn’t right.

Marcy felt hot tears on her cheeks. Was she, in fact, her mother’s daughter? Destined to repeat the same mistakes and walk the same path? Could she trust herself if she had been born with her mother’s bad taste?

 

Excerpt from MAKING SHIPWRECK

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