In the very early morning, I drove to Chicasetta to retrieve Uncle Root for the service, which began at ten. I knocked before I let myself in with my key, and saw Mama and Daddy sitting in his living room.
“Oh my goodness! What are y’all doing here?”
As the old man smiled from his wing chair, my parents rushed to me. They gave hugs and kisses and exclamations that I had grown up, even since Christmas. Look at my pretty outfit, and my new hairstyle.
Mama stroked the edges of my pressed and curled hair. “Did your granny do this?”
“Yeah, you like it? All I have to do is roll it up at night.”
“It’s so pretty! I wish you’d convince Coco to grow her hair back. She’s still baldheaded, bless her heart.”
“We thought we’d surprise you, darling,” Daddy said. “It was Belle’s idea, and I took some time off from the practice. It’s only two days, and aren’t my ladies worth it?”
He put his hands on our shoulders, squeezing gently. My parents were dressed in color-coordinated attire. Mama wore a navy dress with a red belt. My father’s suit was navy, too, and his tie was red. I touched his graying temples. When I’d visited for Christmas, I hadn’t noticed that his hair had changed colors.
“Look at you, Daddy! You’re all cute and distinguished.”
“Your mama put this gray in my head, beating me every single day. This woman is so mean. She won’t cook for me, neither. You see I’m nothing but skin and bone, don’t you?”
He rubbed his round stomach and threw back his head, hooting. Mama and I joined in his laughter, as if my father’s joke wasn’t worn and frayed. I put my head on my father’s shoulder, and when I said this was a perfect day, my mother teased me. Don’t be getting mushy, but she put her arm around my waist. She kissed my cheek.
The old man insisted I drive his town car to campus. He and Mama sat in the back, and Daddy was up front, marveling at how I took the road. Look at his baby girl, driving this big car. All right, now. Watch me go. When we walked into the chapel, I waved at my roommates across the pews, pointing exaggeratedly at my parents. I was going to sit with them, and when I passed by the pew where Tiffany and Darlene were, I slowed down on purpose so they could see my parents. What an attractive couple they made. How beautiful my mother was, tiny and neat and graceful. How respectful and affectionate my father was to her. That the three of us sat with the legendary Jason Freeman Hargrace. I didn’t need to pledge Beta to be somebody. I was somebody already.
Students weren’t allowed in the faculty dining room, unless they were escorted by a college alum, and after the program was concluded, I found my roommates, asking, did they want to sneak in with my family? They’d met my mother and the old man a few times, but never my father, and we three could be guests of alumni at the reception, since none of Roz’s family had attended the program. I instructed Keisha to rush back to our room and get some aluminum foil. And bring a big purse like the one I had: not only were they serving fried chicken, there was a rumor that Mrs. Giles-Lipscomb had made several of her famous coconut custard pies. I’d brought some of my granny’s Tupperware in my own purse.
“Are y’all two heifers gone embarrass me?” Roz asked. “Stuffing food in your pocketbooks?”
“Ain’t nobody stud’in’ you,” Keisha said. “You gone be the first one begging for pie.”
The dining room was crowded with alumni and their student guests. There was Pat, standing by a tall, brown-skinned lady with short, relaxed hair, and large-framed glasses. When I caught his eye and waved, he motioned that I should come over.
“This is my mommy!” Pat said. “Isn’t she wonderful?” He squeezed his mother around her shoulders.
I shook Mrs. Lindsay’s hand. “It is so good to meet you. Your son is a nice young man, and I can tell the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Listen to you,” she said. “So sweet and polite! My child can’t stop talking about you. It’s ‘Ailey says this’ and ‘Ailey says that.’ Now I can see why.”
Pat nudged her with his hip. “Stop, Mommy.”
“I’m sorry, darling.” She giggled. “Was I not supposed to say anything?”
Abdul walked up to us, and I backed away several paces. The day had been perfect, but now I felt an awkward dread. Two weeks before, Abdul and I had been lying naked in his bed, when he told me someone on campus had referred to me as his girlfriend, but he had corrected them. They were sadly mistaken: I was not his woman. Abdul told them that we were just kicking it.