Page 54 of Pride and Protest
“You do. Wait.” Chicho’s eyes had shifted to Maurice. “You wearing that trash bag to the gala?”
“It’s a sweat suit.”
“Ignore him, Chicho,” Liza said. “Light a candle for Janae. She’s waiting to hear if she got the interview for a big position in New York.”
Liza didn’t know what had gotten into Chicho lately. She was constantly talking about getting out of Merrytown. She played the lottery every day and actually read Colin’s book,Up from Nothing. It was like she was suddenly so dissatisfied with her life, and with Liza’s too. Chicho nodded lately whenever Bev chastised Liza about lipstick, bras, and men. Their friendship seemed to be cooling for reasons Liza couldn’t understand, and she didn’t know how to reverse course.
“Oh, I hope she gets it. She’s too sane to be cooped up with y’all for too much longer,” Chicho said, nodding at Maurice.
“And WIC is coming!” Liza squealed. “So light two candles.”
“I’m not praying to the saints so you can get a booty call.” Chicho crossed herself.
“Why not? I plan to be calling on the Lord all night.” Liza shimmied her shoulders.
Chicho pretended to be scandalized. “It’s so weird, though. He should have seen more of you by now. It’s not like Philly is so far. Why couldn’t he just pop over on the weekend?”
“Because he’s organizing. The weekends are the perfect time for that, and far be it from me to impede the movement.”
Bev slapped the door in impatience. “I want to look at this limo David sent for us!” Liza’s mom wore a skintight fuchsia dress with strategic cutouts in risky places. Even at fifty-five, she looked good. But just because shecoulddo something didn’t mean sheshould. The reverend sidled up next to her. He wore what could only be called a zoot suit. With his broad paddedshoulders and slim legs, he looked like a walking isosceles triangle.
Liza couldn’t wait for Bev to see WIC—all dressed up, handsome smile. She would have to admit that Liza had gotten it right. Liza was finally going to see Bev eat crow. Nothing could spoil this night.
ENTANGLED
The limo was lavishly appointed. The Bennetts sipped on champagne and nibbled chocolate-covered strawberries. Deya shouted over Maurice as they fought over the limo snacks, and Janae kept making requests to the driver to turn the music to max volume. The whole time, Beverly was counting up the expenses.
“I looked up our hotel. It’s over one thousand dollars a night for suites. And this champagne ain’t cheap either.”
Janae chided her mother softly. “We get it, Ma. They’re being very generous to us.”
“Oh, it’s not about us, honey. They are giving us the royal treatment because of you and that moneymaker right there.” She pointed to Janae’s face. “And we’ll meet Ms. Liza’s mystery man too. This perfect man that is so much better than a future politician.”
Liza sat with her arms folded and did not take the bait. It was one of the most adult moments of her life. She should diversify her 401(k) next.
Granny was swinging the limo door open before the car was at a complete stop.
“This girdle is suffocating me.” Granny yanked at her hunter green tracksuit. Bev had begged, pleaded, and bartered to get her mother into “something reasonable.” The plush velvet tracksuit was as far as she got with the woman.
The Bennetts spilled out of the limo to a surprising number of photographers and curious onlookers. Bev smoothed her dress as she scooted out of the limo and grinned as if she were made for the spotlight. Liza knew that as soon as she stepped out, she would stick out like a sore thumb. She wore a jumpsuit, for one. When she saw it online, she’d fallen in love with the detail, the plunge neck, the shawl lapels, and the side pockets. It was the open back and wide legs that made her feel both exposed and conservative at the same time. She fretted with the chain that went from the nape to the small of her back. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it had the same creeping sensation of a fly walking up her back. Janae swatted Liza’s hand away.
“Leave it alone. You look amazing, Liza,” Janae assured her. Her sister always knew what she was thinking.
“I’m the only woman in pants here.”
“So your WIC can easily make you out, right?” Janae said.
Liza nodded and walked down the carpeted aisle into the building.
The elegant ballroom was laid out on two levels. A formal stage accommodated a large band playing a milquetoast version of an Earth, Wind & Fire song. The walls were dark and draped in crushed velvet with gold inlay. Everything else was fresh and white. Tall ivory calla lilies rose from the table centerpieces. The tables themselves were overfilled with white and gold saucers, plates, and bowls, with matching embroidered napkins shaped like elephants. There was a modest dance floor and a light showthat cast the room in various geometric overlays. They were handed heavy bags filled with expensive items, lotions, mascaras, shaving creams, Caterina jewelry, a three-day trip to wherever the hell Sag Harbor was, and a key to a mint green electric scooter.
She wanted to comment on how much of a waste this all was, but she stopped herself when she saw Granny’s face looking through all the items, oohing and aahing with Janae. They sat Granny at the winner’s table, where she was being waited on and fussed over.
She deserved this. Those slow arthritic fingers had known nothing but work all their life. Let her take center stage and be pampered.
Liza set her eyes around the room to see if WIC had arrived yet and could see no one with that particular build and hair.No biggie, he’ll probably be late.He was a revolutionary—he couldn’t show up on time for these bourgeois events. But he was coming to see her, she reasoned, not to really participate in all this. As if on cue, her mother pulled at her elbow.
“Where’s your Mr. Perfect? I thought he’d be standing outside to greet us with a truckload of roses or something.”
