I looked at them. There didn't seem to be anything different about them. Neither one looked like part of some trick but, of course. I had to be skeptical.
"Mama, are these our salt and pepper shakers?" "They are." she said.
"How did you do that. Uncle Palaver?"
"A real magician never tells,' he said. "But I will this one time. I did it with magic."
Mama laughed.
It sounded so wonderful that it brought tears to my eves. How I wished Uncle Palaver could stay with us just to make us laugh again and again. but Brenda was right. We had only ourselves now.
As always when Brenda did something athletic like going on a long run, she looked revived, not drained-- stronger, not weaker, and certainly not tired. She looked more fortified than ever. It was easy to see she was determined not to cry or even look upset. I had never seen her as talkative as she was at dinner that night. It was as if she were out to make sure there were no long, melancholy pauses in the conversation among us. She talked about her upcoming game against the champion of the North Carolina league and then, for the first time, revealed some career plans.
"Of course. I hope I make the United States Olympic volleyball team someday, but I want to be sensible, too. I'm going to be a physical education instructor, only I'd like to be one at a college and not a high school. There are more dedicated young athletic girls in college. I'll enjoy that more. What do you think, Mama?" she asked, and Mama looked up with some surprise. We could see she wasn't prepared to involve herself in these sorts of serious questions yet. It was usually something Daddy initiated. He had the strongest opinions about it all, but she struggled to clear her mind and think.
"Sure, Brenda. That sounds very good. It's what you love, and like I told your uncle today," she added, looking at Uncle Palaver, "to do what you love and make a living at it is what I would call being successful. I guess, in fact," she continued
, now that Brenda had forced her to think about other things beside Daddy. "I guess I'll consider returning to work myself."
"That's a great idea," Brenda said, and looked at me with eyes that urged me to speak up as well.
"Yes. Mama, that is a good idea."
"I might even return to college myself one of these days and continue pursuit of a law degree," Mama added, buoyed by our enthusiasm.
"You could pledge a sorority.'' Uncle Palaver joked.
Was it a miracle? For a while, we were laughing, smiling, actually enjoying our food and one another's company. I was happy about that, but I also felt funny about it. I couldn't help listening for Daddy's car, for the garage door going up. I couldn't help imagining him stepping into the house and into the dining room doorway. The Daddy I was imagining was the old Daddy, the one who would joke and pretend to be upset that we had begun dinner without him. What's this? I heard him say. Did you really believe all that? Did you really believe I could leave my three girls?
Brenda saw the way my gaze went to the doorway, and her eyes grew small with reprimand.
There was a pause in the conversation and laughter.
"Well," Mama said, reaching deeply for a long sigh. "I guess I had better prepare myself for the phone calls. This is a small community. You know how gossip flies. Of course, they'll all wonder how this could happen without my realizing it was going to, how he could leave his practice, set up another life, whatever he's done. I suppose I'll look like some stupid, vapid fool."
"No," Brenda said. "He'll be the one who looks like a fool. Don't dare blame yourself for any of this. Mama."
"No!" I cried.
Mama smiled. "My cheerleaders. Warner." she said to Uncle Palaver.
"I wish I had them with me," he said. He thought a moment. "The man has to be out of his mind to leave them behind. Brenda's right. In the end, people will pity him more."
Like a prophecy, his words hung in the air to contemplate and consider.
Although Brenda wouldn't show it, she was as sad as I was, if not sadder the following morning when Uncle Palaver prepared to leave. He gave us a tour of his motor home to show us some of the new things he had bought for it. I sat in the driver's seat and pretended I was on the road, unwrapping states and scenery like Christmas presents as I crossed the country. Never did Uncle Palaver's life seem as attractive to me as it did at that moment. Yes, he had no family to cart along and be responsible for. At least, no family yet.
Perhaps he would have one someday with Destiny, although he never did speak of her as his girlfriend or fiancee. Was he ashamed to admit he was in love with an African American woman? Or was he afraid she might disappoint him one day? Did he want to remain forever unattached? Was he the free soul he appeared to be, carried along by whatever whim or notion he had, accepting or declining invitations as he pleased? Every day brought some unexpected surprise. There were defeats and unhappy
experiences, but all he had to do was get behind this wheel, start the engine, and drive off, leaving anything unpleasant behind him as forgotten as an old bad dream.
He would surely do the same soon after he left us. I thought. Oh, he would worry about Mama, but he would be so occupied with his work and his travels that he would not feel that worry as intensely as he felt it here with us. I didn't resent him for that no, I envied him.
Take me with you, I dreamed of asking.
"Well. Nora," he said when we were all standing outside his vehicle. "I brought this to give to Matt. but I'll give it to you now." He handed Mama an envelope with the check in it to repay the loan Daddy had given him some time ago.
"You don't have to give me this now. Warner," she told him.