“I sat in the night regretting the decisions I made,” grand ma said to Flat Anna. A mixture of hatred, admiration, jealousy and love swirled in her heart when speaking about Joetta. Joetta’s family would have everything while grand ma’s family would be buried in shame and struggle just like the childhood I tried to escape from. Grand ma remembered sitting at night with her arms wrapped around her knees that were bent, sitting in the dark, the permeation of fried onions and beer filled the house along with an undertone of the smell of mold coming up from the basement. This house and her husband became an assault on her senses, an odious reminder of her predicament as a woman married to a hick going nowhere. My life will be no different than my mother’s.
In the fear of facing her fortieth decade soon upon her, grand ma fell for some get rich quick schemes. She could make some money selling real-estate on the side, on the weekends sitting in some cold house, her real-estate sign on the front lawn with her name on it in capital letters, BEVERLY RACINE, waiting for a buyer. At least she would be making money instead of watching Ronnie‘s silhouette as he reclined in the chair illuminated by the din of the television where he spent every Sunday. I am still attractive that’s an asset in sales, grand ma remembered. Women who are good looking make money in real estate. Grandma thought about her body, her beautiful thick brunette mane, her large brown eyes, her neck the length of a swan’s and her figure maintained by the discipline of dieting and belly dancing. What she found disappointing about her body was her lack of breasts. That could be fixed too when the commissions come in. She could not miss in real estate- her persistence would pay off. Money would be the salvation, money would be the act of forgiveness and the moment of redemption for a life of uninspired choices, a life defined by the innumerable resentments of “I will show them,” a life as empty as the cold barren room, Ronnie’s silhouette, and her weekend steeped in the futility of a real-estate sale that was not going to happen. Just stay positive, grand-ma thought. I have everything it takes to make money in real-estate. Real-estate would become her ticket out.
Thoughts of Joetta intruded on grand ma who often resisted thinking about her sister whose brilliance, grace and charm inspired curiosity and connection with everyone who met her. Grandma remembered watching Joetta arrange her room, choose her clothes, assess the value of the boy she was considering at the moment, as the tilt of her head revealed the wry smile and the brilliance of her brown eyes contributing to the mystique of Joetta who made one feel special being the object of her attention. Joetta possessed star quality. Remembering Joetta standing in front of the mirror wearing a white blouse, the little black jacket, with the ribbon that tied at the waist inspired a glimmer of admiration. Joetta moved like a gazelle. Whether she was choosing her clothes, diving off the diving board at the lake in a perfect execution, her shapely thighs taut and strong as Joetta hit the water. Poetry in motion as she spoke to people with such delicacy and care that to be in Joetta’s company buffered one against the monotony of the ordinary. Grandma thought her of her sister as a contrivance. When Joetta walked into a room, my mother’s face lit up recalled grand ma. Sometimes she wondered if Joetta belonged in the family, if Joetta were not some hologram, a spirit or satyr presenting a vision, a welcomed interruption to the tired and predictable. Joetta would triumph, like an artist with a block of clay, Joetta would mold out the best possibility, would fail to be defeated by the obvious, whose imagination would transcend the limitations of life imposed by the mill town. Joetta’s cultivation became the answer, the resistance to a life that seemed base and small. Grand ma sighed in the recognition of the resentment, envy and love she felt for Joetta, her older sister. I am getting out of poverty; I am divorcing Ronnie and getting out of poverty. I will marry a professional man like my sister did who will get me out of poverty and I need to do it soon.
