"Or to imagine you caring for children," Brenda said.
I glared at Celia and then lowered my eyes to my plate and continued to eat.
"This all so wonderful, Mrs. Taylor," Celia told Mama.
"Weren't your parents disappointed in your not going home for Thanksgiving?" Mama asked her.
I looked up quickly. That was a good question. How could she come here? Why was being with Brenda, someone she was with all the time, anyway, more important than being with her own family? Mama wouldn't approve of that. Mama always considered family very important. She finally realized it, I thought, and looked gleefully at Celia, who first threw a glance at Brenda.
"My parents were divorced. Mrs. Taylor." Celia began. "They divorced when I was only eight. My father had a girlfriend on the side, and my mother found out."
"Oh. I'm sorry," Mama said, bringing her hands to the base of her neck. She fingered the ruby necklace Daddy had given her on her birthday two years ago.
"My mother took it very hard. She thought it was her fault somehow, and no one, no therapist, anyone, could convince her otherwise."
Mama shook her head sympathetically. "How is she now?" she asked.
"She's dead," Celia replied. "She took too many sleeping pills one night, and it was too late to do anything by the time I found her. I went to live with my father's mother, actually. My father remarried, and his new wife wasn't keen on having me move in with them."
"How horrible for you," Mama said, practically coming to tears.
"My grandmother passed away last year." Celia continued, "and I really don't have anything more to do with my father. I think he's responsible for everything terrible that's happened, and he knows that's how I feel, so going to his home for Thanks ring wouldn't be very pleasant. I was grateful for your invitation:"
"Oh, of course. We're so happy to have you," Mama said, nodding at me.
I didn't say anything. What could I say? Despite all the sad and terrible events of her life. Celia Harding was a vibrant, cheerful, and beautiful young woman. Maybe that was why Brenda was so fond of her. She gave her hope about herself, not that I ever thought Brenda was too weak to overcome the sorrowful events of our lives. I supposed they were good for each other, and although I was jealous, I had to accept it reluctantly and be happy for them both.
The conversation at dinner changed to happier topics. Celia told Mama about her plans to become an advertising executive. She had taken a number of courses in psychology, and she loved marketing and how images and words manipulated and controlled the way people thought and lived their lives. She did make it sound very interesting. She said she wanted to begin by working for some magazines and gradually get to the point where she had her own advertising firm. Mama sat there nodding as if she expected nothing less. No goal was beyond the reach of such an intelligent and attractive woman,
"I'm thinking of getting back into the working community myself," Mama said. To me, it sounded like an echo. I couldn't count how many times Brenda and I had heard her say that before.
"That's good, Mrs. Taylor. You should. It would enrich your
"Oh, please, don't call me Mrs, Taylor. Call me Nora," Mama said. "You'll make me feel old."
They three of them laughed.
I rose and began to clear the table.
"April has been such a help to me." Mama said, putting her hand on my arm. "I don't know where I'd be without her. Half the time, she's the one preparing our dinner, and she's becoming a better cook than I am."
"Mama!" I said, For some reason, it
embarrassed me to have Mama tout my good qualities in front of Brenda's friend. I glanced at her and saw her smiling up at me.
"As long as she doesn't end up looking like a plump chef," Brenda commented.
I felt myself redden and quickly retreated to the kitchen to put the dishes and glasses into the dishwasher. Celia offered to help, too. but Mama insisted she and Brenda go relax in the living room. When I finally entered the living room, they were making plans for the next day. Brenda was going to show her around Hickory.
"What's there to show her?" I interjected.
"I'd like to see where Brenda grew up," Celia told me, and then smiled at Brenda. "Where a person lives tells you a lot about her, not that I don't know a lot already," she added, and once again, they both giggled like teenagers.
"If you want to, you can come along," Brenda told me.
I shrugged and plopped into Daddy's chair and listened to them chat about other girls at the dorm, some of the events that were coming up at the college, and Brenda's achievements on the basketball team. Even though Celia didn't strike me as the athletic type, she seemed well-informed about the league and the upcoming games leading to the championship. They were in contention, and from what Celia was saying. Brenda was a big reason why,
"I didn't attend any of the games until Brenda came to play for our school." Celia admitted.