Read Online With Friends Like These by Reshonda Tate Billingsley - Free Book Online Page B

should know—” Mrs. Lewis held up her index finger as her cell phone rang, cutting off my mother while she reached in her purse to get it.
    I watched them as Mrs. Lewis answered. She paused, then threw her head back and released a phony laugh.
    “Well, Vivian, darling, let me just say this. If you are going to wear that gown, we’ll all have to start working out this very second. Everyone knows how fabulous your figure is, and that design will just be the icing on the cake. You’re sure to outshine us all. But look, sweetie, I’m right in the middle of something awfully important right now, so do you mind if I get back to you in a bit?”
    There was silence.
    “Yes, I promise, the minute I wrap this up. Smooches, darling.” She snapped the phone shut and looked at my mother after tucking the phone back into her purse. “I apologize for that. My friend and I have this debutante event coming up, and we’re just a wreck about what to wear. Don’t you hate that?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer before she leaned in close to my mom, like they were old friends. “It’s actually her daughter’s coming-out event, and as quiet as it’s kept, since Walter and Valencia were babies, we’ve always dreamed of them attending together. Now Walter is saying he doesn’t even want to go.”
    Mrs. Lewis placed her hand across her chest as if she were really hurting. “Imagine the nightmare that’s causing. So you can see what confusion this thing with your daughter has caused. I’m sure you understand my concern. And, well”—she shrugged—“I just really hope I can get your help with this situation.”
    “So let me get this straight,” my mother said.
    Now that’s what I’m talking about. I knew once she got my mother going, it’d be on for real. My mom is pretty laid-back until someone messes with her baby—me.
    “It sounds to me like you think your son is too good for my daughter,” my mother snapped.
    Yeah, that’s right. Get her, Mama.
    Mrs. Lewis threw her hands up in surrender and actually stepped back a few feet. Her little green eyes widened in horror.
    “I’ll have you know, I have black friends,” she quickly defended. “We donate to all of those little orphanages in Africa! Well, maybe not all of them, but you know what I mean.” By now, her face had turned a shade or two of red. Veins were popping at her temple and her neck. She was pointing her own finger at her chest. “No one can accuse my family of being racist! You don’t know anything about me.” Her lips were trembling.
    “Look, I don’t have to know you to know I don’t appreciate you coming into my house acting like you’re tossing compliments around when you’re not doing a doggone thing but stirring up trouble,” my mother said. “And FYI—I never said a thing about color.”
    That’s right, Mama. I was so proud of her at that very moment, I wanted to jump in and cosign with a few comments of my own. But the next words to fall from my mother’s lips quickly wiped away my smile.
    “But since we’re on the topic, do you think I want my daughter bouncing around with that son of yours? I know what people like you think when you see an interracial couple. I don’t want my daughter to have to suffer through that. I don’t want them together any more than you do, but you’re not about to come up in my house trying to play some reverse psychology on me. You tell your little perfect Princeton-bound son to stop sniffin’ around my daughter, and maybe you won’t have to lower yourself to such unpleasant work,” my mother said.
    Needless to say, all of the triumph I felt only moments ago was gone. I wanted her to defend my relationship with Walter, not tear it down. I wanted her to put his mother in her place, not find a way to agree with her. My heart sank when Mrs. Lewis turned around and stormed out of the front door in a huff.
    I slid down against the wall and wrapped my arms around my legs. I no longer cared