Nobody's Fool

back to Grandma’s.”
    The Donnelly girl was on her knees facing her daughter as she pleaded, unnecessarily, it seemed to Miss Beryl, since the child now seemed lost in contemplation of the pastries. Why didn’t the young woman just get up and go make her call?
    â€œMommy’s only gonna be gone a minute. You look at this picture, and before you’re done I’ll be back, okay, Tina? I’ll be right over there. See where the phone is? I’m gonna call Grandpa, and then I’ll be right back, okay? You stay right here and look at the pictures, and maybe we can find you some scissors.” Here she looked pleadingly at Miss Beryl, who was less than thrilled with the idea of the child cutting up her magazines.
    When the Donnelly girl got to her feet, she just stood there a moment, staring down at her daughter, then turned and made for the phone across the long room. As soon as she was out of the little girl’s peripheral vision, the magazine slid from the child’s knees and she stood up, clearly intending to follow her mother, who spun around angrily.
    â€œTina, you sit your ass right back down there this minute!” she shouted, stopping the little girl in her tracks. The child did not sit back down, though. Her mother was halfway across the room, and it was as if, somewhere in the little girl’s brain, she was measuring the distance between them and gauging that she could not sit down without risking her mother’s loss. There was nothing Miss Beryl could do but watch, fascinated and horrified.
    â€œThis here’s the shit that drives me stark raving,” the young woman said to Miss Beryl, as if she were glad to have a witness. “You ever see anything like it? Watch this.”
    She turned and took a step toward the phone, stopped and spun around again. The little girl, without actually looking up at her mother, had also taken a step, then stopped when her mother turned.
    â€œHow’d you like to deal with this for about a week?” the young woman asked Miss Beryl angrily. “How about for a day? After twenty-four hours you wouldn’t know whether to eat shit, chase rabbits or bark at the moon.”
    â€œI’ll get scissors,” Miss Beryl offered weakly.
    â€œYeah. And stab me with them, would you? Put me out of mymisery.” Then she addressed the little girl again. “How the hell am I gonna be able to go back to work with you like this? Tell me that. How can I waitress at the Denny’s with you? I’m gonna carry you up and down the goddamn restaurant all day so you can feel my ear? I can just explain it to the customers, right? Here’s your eggs. This here’s my daughter. She’s five years old but she goes ape-shit if she can’t feel my earlobe every minute of the goddamn day. I’m sure everybody’ll understand that, right?”
    If the little girl heard or comprehended a word of this, she gave no sign. To Miss Beryl, she appeared oblivious to the sound of her mother’s voice. She was simply waiting for the next signal she understood. If her mother moved away from her, she’d follow. If not, she looked prepared to stand right where she was for all eternity.
    Oddly, having shouted at the little girl, her mother’s anger seemed to have leaked away. Or perhaps she was just resigned. “Just what the hell we gonna do, Birdbrain? That’s what I’d like to know, and I’ll listen to any advice on the subject. You got the answer rattling around inside that head of yours? If so, let me in on it, okay?”
    The little girl stood.
    â€œAll right, come on over here,” her mother finally gave in. “We’ll call Grandpa together. That suit you? We’ll call Grandpa and see if your daddy’s been and gone. Then we’ll leave this poor old lady alone before she calls the cops and reports us crazy.”
    The little girl still had not moved, and she didn’t until her mother got down on her knees and extended her arms. Then she went to her mother slowly, almost cautiously, and they hugged there in the middle of Miss Beryl’s living room, an embrace that lasted almost long enough to break an old woman’s fragile heart. The hug ended with a loud slap and the little girl’s hand shooting down to her side.
    â€œDon’t start with the goddamn ear again,” her mother said, getting back to her feet. “I need the ear for the telephone.