Barbara Gale - Picking Up the Pieces

“Me, neither, I’m sorry to say. My mom still lives there, though, a few miles outside the city. And yours?”

“Oh, she’s still there, holding down the fort. I left soon after you did and never went back, either. And I never will.”

“Something in the water?” Althea grinned.

“Something,” Benicia said, smiling back. “Do you ever seriously consider returning?”

“Sure I do. Lately, I think about it a lot.”

“Not me, girlfriend. But I’ve thought about you. Sometimes, thinking about you was the only thing that kept me going. I’d read about you in the paper and think, Why, I know that girl, and if she can do it…You know the sort of thing, silly stuff, but it gave me hope. My friend the world-class model, practically a movie star. Oh, my, yes, I gave you lots of thought. I still do, every time I see a magazine with your face on the cover, wearing that famous ruby-red lipstick.”

“I’m paid to wear that lipstick, you know.”

“I figured as much. So, what have you been up to? I haven’t seen your picture lately. Oh, wait, I remember. You hooked up with the good-looking brother from Long Island, that Boylan ambassador fellow, if I remember correctly. Married yourself a real live prince, straight out of Cinderella, and went to live in Europe somewhere.”

Althea’s amber eyes held a faint glint of humor. “Paris, actually.”

“Paris,” Benicia sighed. “Imagine that, your whole life has been one big fairy tale, hasn’t it? Just like you said it would be. It just goes to show, a small-town girl really can make good in this nasty old world.”

“Oh, Benicia, fairy tales don’t always end happily. My husband and I—our divorce was finalized a few weeks ago. It just hasn’t hit the papers yet.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my, I’m so sorry, Althea.”

“It’s all right, Benicia.” Althea blinked. “How could you know? You would have soon enough, in any case. It will be in all the papers soon.”

“Is that why you’re here in New York?”

“Actually, I only just got back a few days ago.”

“And you run into me and my big mouth. Like I said, I’m really, really sorry.”

“Don’t be. Things happen.”

“Too true,” Benicia said thoughtfully. “Say, listen, I was just window shopping, stalling for time. I have a free hour before I have to go to a meeting. Do you have time for a cup of coffee, catch up on old times? Unless—” Benicia hesitated “—you’re busy. You’re probably busy.”

“I’m not too busy for an old friend,” Althea said firmly. “And a cup of tea sounds perfect.”

The two women made their way a few blocks over to Houston Street, laughing over silly memories that began immediately to surface. Althea talked her friend into having lunch at a small Ethiopian restaurant that served an excellent tea, and tiny glasses of Tej, Ethiopia’s popular honey wine. It wasn’t long before the years fell away and they grew comfortable with each other, although Benicia was careful to stay away from the subject of her friend’s divorce.

“So, tell me,” Benicia asked, as the Tej began to warm them, “you were always talking about going to New York to become a model. Was it worth it?”

“Well, it wasn’t like I was any sort of scholar back in Birmingham, just another pretty girl with a good body and interesting eyes. But my mom lives in a real nice house now with an honest-to-goodness white picket fence and a garden, which is all she ever wanted. So, yes, it was worth it. Of course, it wasn’t without its difficulties. But, hey, that’s a conversation for another day. Let’s talk about you. You look terrific, you know. The same, but different.”

She meant it, too. Benicia looked great. The glossy black curls Althea remembered from their childhood were now worn in a tight cap, her brow was a delicate thin arch over her big, olive-black eyes, and the flirty, long gold earrings she favored set off her graceful neck.

“I do try to take care of myself,” Benicia grimaced with good humor.

“So, are you going to tell me how you landed in New York, considering how angry you were when I left.”

“Considering?” Benicia repeated as their waiter arrived with two steaming bowls of Chicken Wat stew. “Oh, this smells so good.”

“I thought you would like it. It’s my favorite.”

“I can see why,” Benicia said as she picked up her spoon. “But do you mean to say that you don’t follow the Birmingham gossip?” she asked, returning to her thread of thought. “Your momma never told you?”

“Like I said, my mother doesn’t live in the old neighborhood anymore. But now you’ve got my curiosity up, what don’t I know?”

Neatly putting aside her spoon, Benicia rummaged about in the huge tote bag at her feet until she found her wallet. Opening it carefully, she drew out a slender folio of photographs and handed it to Althea. “His name is James. He’s nine years old and he is the most important thing in my life. He is my life.”

“Oh, Benicia, he’s adorable. I didn’t know you were married.”

Benicia’s eyes grew slanted. “I never said I was married.”

“But—”

“The brother had plans,” Benicia said coolly as she quickly retrieved her son’s pictures and stuffed them back in her bag. “Unfortunately, they didn’t include fatherhood. So, it seems we’re both single women, aren’t we?”

Althea fiddled with her silverware, unsure what to say.

Observing her friend’s discomfort, a flash of amusement flitted across Benicia’s round face. “Althea Almott, if I didn’t know better, I’d believe you were blushing. The Alabama in a girl never quite disappears, does it?”

Althea was surprised by Benicia’s observation. No matter how hard she tried to leave the South behind, Alabama did live just below the sophisticated surface she had worked so hard to acquire—a multilayered conservatism that kept her slightly off balance.

“Oh, Althea, I’m only teasing you,” Benicia said, patting her friend’s hand gently. “I don’t complain about being a single mom. I’ve had a long time to figure things out. You don’t remember what a stubborn kid I was, always having to learn things the hard way.”

Confused, Althea sent her a curious look. “How do you mean?”

“I got pregnant,” Benicia said bluntly. “Soon after you left.” For one brief moment, her soft voice was wistful. “I had plans, but then real life had a way of intruding.”

“Oh, there’s truth to that, all right,” Althea agreed sadly. “But what happened to James’s dad?”

“A really good question, for which I have a really dumb answer. I made it easy for him. I let him go. Nobody had to do me any favors! I knew how to take care of myself. Mistake number one was letting him have his way. Mistake number two was letting him get away.”

“Do you ever see him?”

Benicia shook her head. “I wanted him to stay, and I think he did, too. Lordy, that man swore up and down the Mississippi that it wasn’t me. But I was pregnant…. I think he panicked, but how could I blame him? He was only a kid himself, gone before I even started showing. The oldest story in the world, isn’t it?” Benicia said with a sad sigh. “Oh, well, all that’s history, now. But something told me to have this baby, which I did. All by myself.”

“All by yourself?” Althea repeated with a frown. “Your family didn’t help? Where was your mother?”

“Come on, Althea, you remember my momma. When she found out I was pregnant, she beat the living daylights out of me, then she kicked me out of the house. Nowadays, things are different, but back then…” She raised her wineglass, an ironic smile on her face. “To small towns.”