The next afternoon, the rest of the family gathered. Of the younger generation, Malcolm was our only boy. He sat on the floor with Veronica, pretending to drink from her tea set. Coco was quiet, answering questions about college in monosyllables, but Lydia was our butterfly, keeping everyone laughing with her stories, like how somebody in her college dormitory had accidentally set a small fire with a hot plate, and Lydia’s dorm mother had run outside in a fancy silk negligee—but had forgotten to put her wig on. On my boom box, she played a mixtape with her favorite holiday song on a loop, “This Christmas,” by Donny Hathaway. It was Thanksgiving, she said. The season had started.
Right after dessert, she disclosed truths in segments. She was going to transfer to Spelman in January. The paperwork had gone through, and Dante was graduating from Morehouse that next year. Then she hit us with the rest.
“We eloped, y’all! We’re married! Me and Dante got an apartment in Atlanta!” She pointed a finger at Mama. “And before you ask, I’m not pregnant. I’m still on the Pill.”
My grandmother gasped, and my mother asked, didn’t Lydia have any shame, talking about her inside business? People were eating. Children were in the room.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” I said.
Beside me, Mama swiveled. She pointed her finger at me, close to my face. “Ailey Pearl Garfield, is anybody talking to you? You need to learn to be quiet when grown folks are speaking. Or you gone learn to deal with my teaching you, and you don’t want that.”
Mama turned back to my sister. Across the table, Lydia had put her arm around Dante.
“How could you do this? Have you lost your mind? You just turned twenty-one two weeks ago!”
Lydia didn’t seem upset. She smiled, as if my mother wasn’t shouting. “You were around that age when you and Daddy got married. And then you had me. Y’all did all right.”
“Girl, you think I wanted that? I was supposed to be going to graduate school, but I got pregnant! That’s why I got married, Lydia! That’s why I had a damned baby at twenty-three years old!”
Mama put her hand to her mouth. Except for my mother and sister talking, everyone else had been quiet, but now I couldn’t even hear breathing. Then Mama rose, picked up a serving bowl, and walked back to the kitchen.
At the head of the table, my father pushed back his chair. He held out his hand to my sister’s husband, and Dante stood. They shook hands, but when Dante tried to let go, my father held on. He cleared his throat a few times.
“Brother, you better take care of my baby. I’m not playing with you.”
“I will, Dr. Garfield. I promise. I won’t let you down, sir.”
My father and Dante stood there, and then my father pulled at him again, and they embraced. Daddy pounded the younger man on the back. When they parted, my father’s face was wet. The younger man sat down, and my sister kissed his cheek. She rubbed her lipstick off his skin.
But still, nobody else said anything. We just sat there, I don’t know how long, until Nana announced it was time for my father to call her a taxi, but he said no, he’d drive her. It was a holiday, after all. After that, Aunt Diane began collecting plates. My sisters and I tried to help her, but she told us that was all right. She had it. When Aunt Diane’s arms were full, she went into the kitchen, but she didn’t return, either.
The next morning, the newlyweds were gone, and Coco packed for New Haven. She asked my father to take her to the bus station. The dorms were closed, but she was going to stay with a friend.
Within days, my mother called the new number Lydia had written down for her, along with her new address. But there was a message whenever Mama called: she had reached a number that was no longer in service or had been disconnected. My mother called Uncle Root, telling him she needed him to go to Atlanta and see about her daughter. She gave the old man the address, but when he drove to the neighborhood, there was only an empty lot. Then he called someone he knew in Spelman College’s admissions office, but he was given the news that they had no record for my sister’s transfer.
Song
The Village Becomes a Farm
Twenty years had passed, and a new century had begun. Since Nila had given Micco his first cow, much had changed in the village and in the people’s land near the Oconee River. More white men along with their wives and children had pushed further west, bringing their ways of collecting days on paper, instead of recording moons. There were many small battles between the Creek people and these whites, for they had brought cattle and pigs with them, which trampled the land, and they killed too many deer.