Estate of Mind by Tamar Myers

Author:Tamar Myers [Myers, Tamar]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: aVe4EvA
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 2000-05-21T20:00:00+00:00

“It’s lovely—particularly if you’re a boat. Is this woman in your book club?” All right, I was being nosy, but it was only fair. In high school, Mama hadn’t let me date anyone until she’d examined their bloodlines. In Rock Hill, it isn’t what you know but who you know, and Mama was not about to waste

her only daughter on some nobody. Mama has more connections than a box full of Tinkertoys, although a fat lot of good it’s done me.

“Don’t be silly, dear; she’s from Oregon.”

“Come again?”

“She’s a tourist. She stopped to ask for directions, and I invited her in for some tea.”

“What? You have some perfect stranger sitting there in your house?”

“She isn’t a perfect stranger, dear. We had a nice long chat outside first. I was watering the garden after supper—it was too hot during the day—and she pulled up. Did you know that folks come all the way to Rock Hill to see the Civitas statues?”

“Think how many would come if religious fanatics hadn’t insisted that the city file off the statues’ nipples.”

“We’d be inundated, dear. Marina says she’s been to Paris, Rome, and Athens, and none of those cities have anything quite like our Civitas statues. Although I’m sure the statues in those places have nipples.”

“Hmm. Paris, Rome, Athens, Rock Hill—she’s certainly well traveled. Retired, eh? I take it she’s about your age?” Mama was in fairly decent shape and had, in fact, been talking about taking karate. A tea-sipping little old lady was not a serious threat.

“Oh, no, dear, she’s younger than you. And she’s very well groomed, Abby. You could take a page or two from her book.”

“Thanks, Mama. Why don’t you just adopt her? Better yet, just tell folks that she’s the long-lost daughter you forgot you had.”

“Don’t think I’m not tempted, Abby, although they’d never believe me. Marina is black.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“African-American,” Mama said, still whispering. “I didn’t know any lived in Oregon.”

It’s a good thing I have short hair, because it was standing on end. Since I was lying on my bed, I sat up to keep my hair company. Thank heavens the South is integrated now, but you still don’t find many black tourists roaming the byways of small towns, not predominantly white byways like Mama’s neighborhood.

“Does she have cornrows?”

“Yes, and they’re beautiful. I want my hair done up like that before I leave for Africa.”

“That’s nice, Mama. What is Marina wearing?”

“A denim dress with a beautifully embroidered bodice. Frankly, it looks more like it’s from India than Africa.”

“Mama, stay right where you are.”

“Of course, dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a guest to attend to.”

“Mama, keep her there, too. I’m coming right down.”

“That’s very nice of you, dear. She’ll be impressed with our southern hospitality.”

“But don’t tell her I’m coming, Mama. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Yes, but—”

“Keep her there, Mama!”

My hair and I made a beeline to Rock Hill.

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