Mama by Terry McMillan Read Free Book Online Page B

Mildred, could put together a meal without even thinking about it, and had more common sense than some grown people Mildred knew.
    "Freda, your mama gotta explain something to you and I want you to try to be a big girl and listen to what I'm saying, okay?" Now Freda was even more suspicious because Mildred never used this sweet tone of voice and had never asked Freda to close the door so they could talk.
    "Okay, Mama, but you know I'm already a big girl."
    "Yes, and Mama appreciate everythang you've done around here, from watching these kids for me like they was yours, and keeping this house in running order when I ain't here. You been doing a helluva job, baby, playing the mama, and you know I been working hard to make things better for all of us since your daddy been gone, don't you?"
    Mildred was beating around the bush and she knew it, and so did Freda. But this was hard, and Mildred couldn't figure an easy way to do it.
    "You be a teenager before you know it, won't you, baby?"
    Freda nodded, trying to figure out what Mildred was getting at and wishing that whatever it was she'd hurry up about it and get to the point. The "Peanuts Christmas Special" was coming on TV in a few minutes and Freda didn't want to miss it.
    "Well, baby, mama's money is real low and I got some decisions I gotta make and quick." Mildred gripped her hands together like she was praying. "If I don't pay this gas and light bill ain't nothing gon' shine on Christmas in this house, and we'll freeze to death if I don't buy no coal. Now you know the kids won't understand, and all I want is to see y'all, all of you, happy. I can only get a few toys for the little ones, you understand me?"
    "Yes," Freda said, beginning to understand what Mildred was getting at. And although her chest was filling up with air and her training bra was rising and falling as if she had breasts, Freda was trying hard to be as strong as Mildred.
    "All of y'all needs boots and new coats. I can't have y'all going to school or church looking like a bunch of vagabonds, can I?"
    "No, Mama."
    "Well, when I get all this stuff out the layaway, and buy a few toys, pay off these bills, we'll do good to get a chicken on Christmas, let alone a ham or turkey. Mama was just wondering if you could be a big girl and wait until after New Years, when everything'll be on sale. I can get the rest of the kids' thangs, too. I'll buy you that pink mohair sweater we saw in Arden's window. By February, I'll get you that sewing machine I heard you talking about. At least lay it away. Can you just let the other kids enjoy this Christmas? Can you do that for your mama?"
    "Yes, Mama, I can wait," Freda said before she knew it.
    Tears were welling up in Freda's eyes, and Mildred could feel something pulling at the center of her chest. She knew Freda didn't understand. She was still a child. Mildred's heart was signaling her to reach over and pull her oldest daughter inside her arms. But she couldn't. A plastic layer had grown over that part of Mildred's heart and it refused to let her act on impulse. She never showed too much affection because that made her feel weak. And she hated feeling weak because that made her vulnerable. Who would be there to pick up the pieces if she let herself break down? Mildred felt she had to be strong at all times and at all costs.
    Freda wanted her mama to hug her, but she was afraid to make the first move. She didn't want Mildred to think she was being a baby about this whole thing. At that moment, Freda couldn't remember Mildred ever hugging her, or any of them. The two of them sat there stiffly, like starched shirts, but underneath, Mildred and Freda mourned for themselves.
    Finally, Freda stood up and walked to the door. With her back to Mildred, she said, "It's okay, Mama. I can wait. I told you I was a big girl and I meant it." She closed the door softly behind her.

Five
    I N THE SPRING , the weeping willow trees Mildred had planted eight years ago were almost twelve feet