Coco was asleep that day. She was an early riser, waking in predawn darkness to stand in her crib and bump it against the wall, until Mama came into the room and picked her up. I’m hungry, Coco would say. She knew exactly what she wanted. Biscuits with butter. Or cheese and grits. Whatever she asked for, she demanded it immediately in sentences free and clear of baby non sequiturs. The only indication that she was a toddler were her sudden, long naps, after the day was high.
In the hallway, Miss Delores balanced the sleeping Coco on her hip, then took Lydia’s hand. In the kitchen, she gave Lydia half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off. They watched Sesame Street while she washed the breakfast dishes.
“That Cookie Monster gets on my nerves,” she said. “He acts like he’s drunk.” But when The Electric Company came on, she turned appreciative of the brown Dracula. “He needs a haircut, but it’s easy to fix up a good-looking man. My husband is like that. A fixer-upper, but he cleans up nice. I have to watch these fast-tailed heifers around him.”
Coco roused. “A heifer is a female cow.” Then she went back to sleep.
“Lord, this child!” Miss Delores whispered. “She’s too smart for her own good!”
After The Electric Company, there was Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and the cardigan-clad white man. He talked to puppets as if they were real people in his patient, whispery voice. He made Lydia believe they were real people, too. Then they headed upstairs to the guest room, where two fancy dresses lay on the bed, a sign that there would be company soon. Lydia knew how to dress herself and fit the fancy frock over her head. She took off the days-of-the-week panties her mother had put on her and pulled on the ruffled bloomers. Coco had ruffled panties, too, only with plastic sewn inside. She stayed asleep throughout her outfit change; when Miss Delores laid the little girl on the bed, she tucked her legs under her bottom.
Then there was her grandfather calling, girls, girls, where are you?
“Hello, Dr. Garfield,” Miss Delores said.
“Hello, Delores. Did you have a good morning?”
“Yes, sir, I sure did. And you?”
“I suppose.”
“I believe I’ll wake up the little one from her nap. We should take a walk in the park. She likes that. Mrs. Garfield has gone shopping already.”
Lydia grabbed her hand. “No! Don’t go! Please don’t!”
She pulled away. “Child, what has gotten into you? Your granddaddy took off the afternoon, just to take care of you. Dr. Garfield, I’m so sorry. She must be having a bad day.”
“Oh, I’m not mad. Not at all. You’re my pretty little girl, aren’t you?”
He chucked Lydia under her chin, and Miss Delores left the kitchen.
Then it was time for a reading lesson in the study with Gandee. They sat together on the dark, shiny couch. She knew her colors already, as well as her ABCs. Her mother had taught her not to rush though the middle part, LMNOP, but it was Gandee who’d tried to teach her how to read in his study. At first, short words, like “cat,” “rat,” and “dog,” but it was hard for Lydia to grab hold. So Gandee gave up, and read to her from The Brownies’ Book, with Black children in the pictures, and Gandee began to read: “‘When Blanche was a boy, he had to work as a slave on a plantation in Mississippi. Like many a slaveowner, his master needed him too much to allow him any time to get an education. But young Blanche made up his mind he was going to learn his abc’s the best way he could . . .’”
When Gandee finished reading, he led her to the guest room, closed the door, and pulled off the fancy dress that Nana had bought her. Then he took off her bloomers, because she needed to take a bath. If she didn’t, she would stink. And they would bathe and play together in the water, and wouldn’t that be fun? He liked to bathe with her because she was so pretty and special. The most special little girl. Her hair was so shiny, and he loved her more than anybody else in the world. But despite all her specialness, Gandee still threatened to kill Coco, Mama, Daddy, even Nana, if she ever revealed their secret, what he did to her in the bathtub. Gandee was a doctor, he told her. He could kill everyone with poison, and no one would ever know.
And every Sunday at dinner, he was charming and smiled at Lydia, calling her his pretty, special girl, as if he hadn’t threatened to destroy her life.
*
Lydia wouldn’t know it right away, but when her mother returned from New York, she had a baby inside her. In a few months, Mama’s dresses were tight around the middle. She was sick a lot, too, and she lost weight from the frequent vomiting. Daddy began to take the children to his parents’ every weekend. Some days, Lydia went shopping and her younger sister stayed back.