Mama by Terry McMillan Page B

only to end up feeling up like it was a fresh-cut wound that some man had poured salt into. No. Hell no. Her heart was made only to pump blood and keep her going. And that's exactly what it was going to do from now on.
     
    "I'm marrying Rufus," she told the kids.
    They just laughed, until they saw Mildred wasn't joking.
    "Rufus, Mama? Come on, old stupid smelly ugly Rufus?" Freda asked.
    "He may be stupid, and he may stink sometimes, but he ain't ugly and he treats me nice and keeps some money in his pocket at all times. He can help me pay these bills. It takes oil to heat up this house, and who you think been giving me y'all lunch money all these months? Who you think bought you that damn sewing machine that you ain't been using lately, girl? Huh? And Money, boy, where you thank that bike you ride all over town come from? God? Not to mention all the steak and pork chops and sausage y'all been eating around here. Ever since I got laid off, y'all know we been having a rough time, but you never once thought about where all this money was coming from, did you. Them welfare checks and food stamps don't stretch to buy no steaks. Besides, we need a man around this damn house. Deadman never did fix that pipe, and where the hell has he been anyway? I ain't seen him in damn near a month."
    A chill went through Freda when she heard his name and she stiffened. Then, not wanting to look awkward, she shoved Money, who shoved her back. She had tried to block out the pain of that evening because she didn't know what else to do with it. It had worked pretty well up to now.
    "We got Money," said Doll, watching him tumble forward. Doll was almost as tall as Money was. She was only nine, but Mildred still called her baby. She was also cross-eyed, and wore cat-eyed glasses. The kids always called her Jealous Eyes because her eyes looked like they were staring at each other. Doll was kind of homely, when you looked straight at her. Her hair was sandy brown and she had thick beige lips, unlike anybody else in the family. Folks swore up and down she and Freda looked alike, but Freda was darker and had nappier hair. Freda said she had never been that ruined. They often made fun of Doll, made her the brunt of a lot of jokes. But everybody always said that when Doll grew up, filled out, and started fixing herself up, she would probably turn out to be the finest of all four girls.
    "Yeah, you got me, Mama," Money said, poking his small chest out.
    "Look. This ain't got nothing to do with love. I'm getting too old to be thanking about marrying somebody for some damn love. There's other thangs to consider. Y'all for one. It won't kill me to marry Rufus. I've known the man for damn near fifteen or twenty years. That's long enough to marry anybody. Ain't like he no stranger. Plus, your mama could use some regular company. I'm tired of being by myself. Y'all is good company and everythang, but when you get older you may understand what a man can do for a woman, and vice versa. And don't ask me no questions about it now 'cause I don't feel like explaining it."
    They had never even bothered to ask her about what happened to Mr. Superfine Superslick Supercool Spooky. They were glad not to see his pale face around their house at night. And they didn't want to embarrass her. But now, here come Rufus, and they didn't know which one was worse.
    Mildred married him downtown at the courthouse and when Rufus brought home three old suitcases full of dirty clothes, the scent of the whole house changed instantly. Freda threw everything he owned into the washing machine and dropped four capfuls of Mr. Clean in along with the detergent. He wasn't so funny to them any more, now that he was their stepfather. Even when he told a good joke they found it hard to laugh. Sometimes, though, they had to force themselves not to laugh at him, and just to be smart they would walk behind him with a can of Glade air freshener or Lysol disinfectant and spray it like a halo over his