Julia Watts - Wedding Bell Blues

When I was a boy, God looked down and saw me at my play.

He said, “This boy needs a friend to help him on his way.” That’s why, I think, he saw fit to send you to me—

A little baby sister—as sweet as sweet could be.

I used to stand and watch you as in your crib you laid.

As time went by and you grew some, in the yard we played.

More time went by, and I admit, I was surprised to see

The educated lady that you turned out to be.

Now the Lord has taken you, and as we together pray,

There’s something I have never said that I want to say.

Although I’ve never said it, please know that it is true, When I say these three words, my sister: I...

Then a miracle occurred. Well, the closest thing to a miracle this church would see anyway. As Lily held the suddenly restless Mimi on her lap, she detected warmth and movement emanating from the child’s diaper. Hallelujah! Lily thought. The child hath pooped! Now I have a socially acceptable reason to bolt from this debacle of a memorial service.

Just then, Mimi emitted an eardrum-shattering wail. Given the nature of Mike’s poem, Lily wasn’t sure if Mimi was crying because of her soiled diaper or because she was a budding literary critic.

When Lily carried Mimi into the ladies’ room, she was dismayed to discover that it was not equipped with a changing table. Great, she thought, all this talk of family values in this church, and they don’t even give me a place to change a poopy diaper. She changed Mimi awkwardly on the counter, and then noticed that the large mirror above the counter protruded two or three inches from the wall. Instead of throwing the dirty diaper into the trash like a good girl, she slam-dunked it so it wedged between the mirror and the wall. By tomorrow morning’s service, that diaper would be stinking up the place pretty good, and they’d go nuts trying to figure out where the smell was coming from.

Lily reentered the sanctuary just in time to hear the rev suggest that they all join in singing “How Great Thou Art,” since it had been “one of Charlotte’s favorites.” To the best of Lily’s memory, Charlotte’s favorite song had been Patti Smith’s version of “Gloria.”

As soon as the service was over, Ida made a bee-line for Lily. “There’s my little precious!” she squealed at Mimi. “There’s Grandma’s little angel!”

“Gamma!” Mimi sprang into Ida’s arms, and Ida carried her away without even acknowledging Lily’s presence.

Lily watched as Ida showed Mimi off to her church friends. As she watched the bald men and shampooed-and-set women coo over her daughter, Lily was reminded of that scene in Rosemary’s Baby where Rosemary discovers all the wrinkled old Satanists keeping watch over her baby’s black bassinet.

Five minutes, she thought. They can fuss over Mimi for exactly five minutes, but then we’ve got to get out of here before I turn into a pumpkin or a pillar of salt or something.

She watched the seconds tick by on her Timex, gnawed her already nubby fingernails, and thought how much Charlotte would have hated this whole thing. As she approached Ida and one of her church-lady friends, she heard the friend say, “Cremated? Really? Well, of course, I would just never feel right about being cremated, but Charlotte always was” —she stiffened when she saw Lily — “different.”

“Mama!” Mimi called when she saw Lily. Lily was sure it wasn’t her imagination that both Ida and her sour-faced friend cringed.

“I guess we’d better be taking off,” Lily said.

“Ooh, can’t this precious angel stay with her grandma just a few teeny-weeny minutes?”

Great, make me the bad guy, Lily thought. “Well, it is getting to be her dinnertime ...”

“Oh, all right,” Ida sighed, careful to hand over Mimi without making any physical contact with Lily —wouldn’t want to catch those lesbian cooties. “But I think the boys had something they wanted to talk to you about before you left.” She looked around in that desperate, dithering way she had, calling,

“Charles! Mike! Lily’s leaving!”

Charles and Mike appeared at her side. Charles nodded at Lily and said, “We’ll walk you to your car.”

Walking to the car with a large, gray-suited man on either side of her, Lily felt like she was in one of those scenes in a movie in which the mobsters politely escort their victim to a car with the destination of a deserted warehouse where no one can hear the screams.

When they reached her car, Charles said, “We didn’t want to say anything at the reading of the will

— didn’t want to make a scene. We know how upset you were— how upset we all were.” His tone was gentle, calm. “But we just wanted to let you know today, Mike here’s been talking to some attorneys who are in the Lord’s Lieutenants with him—”

“Attorneys?” Lily’s stomach tied itself into a Gordian knot.

“Yes,” Mike said. “You see, we just don’t feel that a young lady on her own ... a young lady such as yourself, with no blood ties to Mimi whatsoever ... what kind of parent could you possibly be?”

“I’ve been a damned good one for the past thirteen months.” She ran her hand through her hair, which loosened her bun and made her dreadlocks fall loose on her shoulders. “Look, I don’t have to justify myself to you. You read Charlotte’s will the same as I did. If you loved Charlotte at all, you’d respect her wishes.”

Charles’s tone was irritatingly even. “We loved Charlotte very much. It’s just that we don’t feel she was capable of understanding what is best for her child. She was blinded by her ... her ...”

“Her sickness,” Mike finished helpfully.

Lily set Mimi in her car seat and spun around to face her enemies. “Her sickness, huh? Let me tell you, this, this, is the sick shit right here! Charlotte knew more about loving and raising a child than you fucking bigots ever did!”

“See, this is just the kind of thing we’re talking about,” Mike said calmly. “You should never use such foul language in front of a child.” He pressed a card into Lily’s fist. “If you decide you’d like to talk sensibly about this, you can speak to our attorney.”

As Charlotte and Mike walked away, Lily looked at the card in her hand: STEPHEN J.

HAMILTON, ATTORNEY-AT-LAW. Hamilton was one of the most powerful right-wingers in the state.

And all Lily had on her side were the wishes of her dead lesbian lover.

She got in the car and pounded her head against the steering wheel. That was productive, she thought. Now what the hell am I going to do?

CHAPTER 3

Lily sat on the couch with her head on Ben’s shoulder, a glass of wine in one hand and a Kleenex in the other. When she’d put Mimi to bed an hour ago, she had stood by her crib watching her sleep. Mimi was perfect in sleep — her fringe of eyelashes resting on her round cheeks, her little rosebud lips slightly parted. Lily had trembled with the fear of losing her.

Charlotte’s absence left an aching void in Lily’s life, but even the second Lily heard about the accident, she knew she would go on. She would have to, for Mimi. Without Mimi, though, Lily couldn’t even imagine a reason for waking up in the morning, for keeping up a pretense of living.