Page 73

her quips.

"I just can't...acknowledge you the way you would like me to," she continued on a serious track. "Please try to understand. Believe me. It will make it easier for all of us."

Mainly for you, I wanted to say, but I drank down the words with a sip of coffee.

"Let's get this shopping done," she declared. "I see you don't wear much make-up, not that you need it. You could do something more with your hair, though. Ponytails are coming back into style, you know. You know what else would look nice, a French twist. Your ears aren't pierced, I see. Don't you want that? It will make it so much easier to wear earrings.

"You need some costume jewelry and you don't have a nice watch, I bet. Do you? Doesn't matter," she said before I could respond. "Let's get you one."

I had a hard time not laughing at her. She seemed to enjoy shopping for me. As we paraded through the perfume department and she

experimented with colognes and lipsticks and scented lotions, she grew more enthusiastic and energetic, whereas I was beginning to feel exhausted. Finally, she stopped and turned to me, noticing the look on my face.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to do so much at one time, but I never get a chance to do this with Alison. She hates my taste and doesn't enjoy shopping with me. She's at that stage, you know, when it's poison to be seen with your mother."

I couldn't imagine why. Despite myself, it was impossible not to enjoy someone who knew about all the styles and the latest fads buying you things, and buying without any worry about cost, too. Mama and I never had the opportunity to do this sort of thing. We made a single visit to a discount shoe store or the lower end department stores for an item or two from time to time, but to spend an entire afternoon in a department store, talking about clothes and hair and cosmetics was a fantasy come true. Before long, my mother was laughing at me and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

"Well, that's a start," she declared after she had chosen a silk scarf for me and had it placed with everything else.

"A start? I think we bought more today than I've bought in my entire life," I said.

"Let this be my first mother-daughter lesson," she lectured with a small smile on her perfect mouth. "When you buy clothes, it's always just a start. We're made to be pampered and spoiled. That's our destiny ever since Adam picked out a leaf for Eve."

"He didn't pick it out. He just paid for it," I said, "in more ways than one."

She paused and then she broke into a real laugh. I had to laugh too.

She stared at me a moment.

"You laugh like him," she said.

Her face grew serious, pensive, and then she smiled.

"This could work out," she said. "Come on. Let's get you a taxi. I'll have the car come around for you about ten tomorrow morning."

She confirmed the address.

"This is one of those developments, those lowincome projects, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said.

"I don't blame your mama for wanting to get you out of there. If I was in her shoes, I'd probably do the same thing or try to. I don't know if I could have pulled it off like she did. She's a tough lady."

"Yes, she is," I said.

"I want to get to know you, Rain. I never be the mother she was to you, but I hope we can be friends at least," she said. She looked back at the department store. "This was fun."

"Fun? I thought it was work," I declared and she laughed again. Then, impulsively, surprisingly, she hugged me and quickly got me a cab.

After I got in, I looked back and saw her disappearing down the sidewalk. I took a deep breath. The day had been a whirlwind and it had left me twisted and confused inside. I felt dizzy, twirled about in a kaleidoscope of emotions, attracted to my real mother and repulsed by her almost at the same time. She was so beautiful and confident and alive. I wanted to be like her, yet I hated myself for not wanting to be like Mama. Like some rubber band, I was stretched to the point of breaking, but I already knew that Mama was going to be the first to let go.

Mama wasn't completely sure it would all happen the way she had planned it, however. She was waiting for me when I returned home. She had gone to work as usual, but had come home early.

"Where are your things?" she asked the moment I came through the front door.

"There was just too much, Mama. She decided to have it all packed into luggage and put in the car coming for me tomorrow. You won't believe how much she spent, how much we bought," I said breathlessly.

Mama sat at the table while I catalogued it all from start to finish, barely pausing to tell her about having coffee in the cafe and discussing my real father. She listened with a half smile on her face, her eyes dark and sad at times, and happy for me at others.