Page 7 of Roark
“Thank you for all your hard work, Tuppence. I’m glad she’s had you this past year.”
Tuppence, the five-foot-tall woman with low-cut gray curls on her head, umber complexion and robust demeanor, had kept this house going for the last fifteen years Tamika’s parents had owned it. The lovely four-bedroom cottage situated in the Golden Valley area of town had been a twentieth wedding anniversary present from Tamika’s father to her mother. Up until last year, the Rayders had come once a year for three weeks to vacation here. The remaining time, the rooms had been rented, the money going into the Rayders’ retirement fund. That, in addition to the money from her father’s pension and life insurance, was what her mother was living off.
“It’s my job.” Her tone was curt as always, and heavily tinged with a British accent. “It’s also good that you came. She needs you.”And you should’ve been here before now.Those were the words Tuppence left out.
It didn’t matter whether they were stated or implied, Tamika already knew, and she’d berated herself enough for that knowledge. But there’d been a much more important reason for her to remain in Alexandria after her mother had decided to leave.
“How long will you stay?” The housekeeper’s movements were as brisk as her tone. Every part of the large, country-themed kitchen was hers, and everything she did was to highlight that fact. Like now—she opened a cabinet and pulled out the colander Tamika was going to need in about five minutes when it was time to remove the noodles from the boiling water.
“Not sure yet.” It was a lie, but then again, it wasn’t. She accepted the metal colander and switched off the burner beneath the pot of boiling water.
Tamika had been meaning to visit her mother in the last year but hadn’t found the time. She should’ve made the time and perhaps she would have if she’d known how serious her mother’s condition was. Luckily for them both, the insurance company where Tamika worked had decided she needed a very long vacation—or rather, a permanent one.
“You should make the time to be with her. Your father’s death hit her hard. Never seen two people so much in love.” Tuppence picked up a cloth, went to the sink and turned on the water to wet it. She moved to the counters, wiping them down with a vicious and efficient rhythm. All the while telling Tamika exactly what she thought, without having to be asked. “It’s hard when a part of you is gone. I know, because my Jon left me ten years ago.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Tuppence. I didn’t know your husband passed away.” To be honest, Tamika didn’t know a lot about the woman, because she wasn’t as in love with this place as her parents had been. This was only the third time she’d been to England.
Tuppence shook her head. “That fool’s not dead. He left me for a young spit of a girl, and I hope he rots in the bowels of hell for it. Still, in those first few months he was gone, I missed him horribly.”
Tamika turned her head from the steam rising up from the noodles she’d just emptied into the colander and gawked at Tuppence. “You missed him after he left you?”
The housekeeper shrugged. “Sounds silly, but there it is. Love works in all kinds of ways nobody understands. Anyway, your mother is missing her husband, her best friend.”
“She’s staying in her bedroom all day and night, not eating, not talking to anyone but you. That’s not healthy.” And it was scary.
Tuppence continued to shuffle about. “No. It’s not. But it’s part of the process.”
“What process is that?”
“The grieving process. Everybody goes through it differently.”
Tamika rinsed the noodles and went back to the stove to dump them into the pot with the meatballs and sauce. The last thing she wanted to hear about was the grieving process. Her father had died in a fire at his office thirteen months ago. She wasn’t grieving, she was pissed off.
“You’re in denial,” Tuppence said.
“I’m trying to fix this dinner so Mama and I can watchBlack Panther. I can’t believe she’s never seen it before.”
Tuppence didn’t say another word as she continued to clean the kitchen. The silence was golden, and Tamika finished mixing the food. She eased the bread out of the oven and buttered the top before slicing it and added those slices to a small woven bowl.
Tuppence came up behind her, reached around and set two plates on the counter before walking away, still not saying anything else. Tamika filled the plates with the spaghetti and meatballs. She transferred the two plates to a tray with the bowl of bread and then went to the refrigerator to grab the chunk of parmesan she’d picked up at the market. When she turned around, she bumped into Tuppence, who had one hand propped on her hip, the other holding the cheese grater out to her. Tamika accepted it with a stiff smile and then added a generous hill of grated cheese on top of each plate. When she turned to put the cheese back, Tuppence moved around her, adding two napkins, knives and forks to the tray.
When Tamika went to the cabinet, she removed two green-colored glasses.
“She likes lemonade. I make it fresh every other day. Scoop out some of the lemons and add to her glass.” Those were the last words Tuppence said before she left the kitchen.
Tamika shook her head and chuckled; Tuppence was the surly grandmother nobody in the family wanted to piss off, but that’s exactly what Tamika had managed to do, and she’d only been in Painswick for a week.
Two Hours Later
With more sadness than she thought she could ever feel again, Tamika watched as her mother reached out a hand to grab the butter-yellow-colored duvet and matching sheet.
Sandra lay back against the many pillows and pulled the covers over her slowly, as if every movement was a tremendous effort. “Thank you for cooking, MiMi.”
The sound of the nickname her parents had given her warmed Tamika to her soul and made her think back to happier times. But those times were gone, and the present was a persistent problem. She’d moved the tray with their empty dishes on it a while ago but had remained sitting on the opposite side of the bed from her mother while they’d watched the movie. “It’s no problem, Mama. You know I love cooking. It soothes the mind, just like you and Granny used to say.” Tamika wished her mother would’ve said it earlier today. She wished her mother would say anything more than the few polite words she’d been tossing at her and Tuppence.
Sandra adjusted the covers, pulling them up to her neck this time, and nestled down in the bed. Tamika tried not to dwell on the fact that her mother had lost so much weight her pajamas were a couple of sizes too big, so the sleeves were rolled over several times to rest a few inches above her wrist. Her hair surrounded her face in limp strands that, while clean, had no style and no other evidence of care. That was a stark contrast to the woman Sandra used to be. The woman whose hair had once been thick and long, hanging down to her shoulders, styled perfectly thanks to Ms. Evelyn at the beauty salon she’d gone to since Sandra was a teenager. Tamika recalled spending many Saturday mornings in the basement beauty salon, playing with the other little girls whose mothers swore by Evelyn Beauchamp’s blessed styling skills. It wasn’t until Tamika turned fifteen—the age Sandra had deemed appropriate for her to get a relaxer—that she’d finally been able to climb into Ms. Evelyn’s chair.
“You know, it’s still pretty early. We could watch another movie. Tuppence has all the latest DVDs in the main sitting room. She said guests like to have a good selection of movies to watch, considering she only subscribes to satellite service with basic channels to help keep costs down. When the guests take a movie, there’s a small rental fee incorporated into their final bill, so the cost of purchasing the DVDs levels out. She’s got a good head for business.” And Tamika was talking a lot, a habit she’d had since she was eighteen months old and had said her first word, “some.”
Her mother said she’d waddled around the house for weeks after that fine day begging for “some” of everything she saw—applesauce, marshmallows, her father’s cigar and even her mother’s body lotion. The thought made Tamika smile.
