“Would you like to know the price?”

“Is it in under a thousand?” I know I’m close to or up to my limit on my Zales charge, so I cross my fingers.

“Just a smidgen over.”

“I’ll take it.” I hand her my card and notice red welts on my right hand. The lady goes over to the cash register. I scratch my hand, which all of a sudden is itching.

“Shall I wrap this for you?”

“No. I think I’ll wear it. You can put the box in a little bag, if you don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind at all,” she says. I can’t stand the sound of her voice. It’s too soft. Like she thinks she’s doing a commercial or something. When she hands me the credit slip, I sign and head back out into the mall. I feel better. I did something for Charlotte. Something extravagant. Now. The kids need some things, too. But what?

I head down toward all them new hip-hop stores that seem to be side by side. I’ma divorce him. I ain’t letting him get away with this shit. Not this time. There ain’t enough apologizing in the world he can do to weasel his way outta this. Fishing. Me and the kids’ll be just fine.

Tiffany and Monique get two pair of blue jeans and some turtlenecks that’s on sale, and since their ski jackets’ll be too small next year, I buy one for both of ’em. Trevor don’t never like nothing I buy him, so I just get him a few of them “No Fear” T-shirts, a bag of socks, and some Jockey underwear. I wonder how fast Al can pack his stuff and get out? Leave. Go. Anywhere. He don’t deserve me. Or the kids. I work my ass off trying to be a good wife and mother, and this is the thanks I get? I don’t think so.

Now my left hand is itching, and these bags is heavy, so I sit on a bench, but realize I have to go to the bathroom. I look in both directions to see where the closest one is, and my eyes stop on a telephone. The next thing I know, I’m standing at it dialing the hospital, since I know the number by heart now. Maybe she’s watching TV. Or maybe she’s just laying there in the dark waiting for one of her kids to call to say good night or something. When the operator comes on, I’m a little stunned at first. “Yes, Viola Price’s room, please?”

“I’m sorry, dear, but your mother’s sound asleep and she asked that she not be disturbed. She could use a solid night’s sleep. I can take a message if you’d like.”

“Okay. Would you just ask her to call her answering machine at home? This is her daughter Charlotte.”

“I sure will,” the nurse says. “She’ll get this message first thing in the morning.”

I say thank you and then call her house. I hope Cecil ain’t home. Good. He’s not there. I get that computer voice that says Mama’s name and not Cecil’s, and after the beep I say: “Hi, Mama. I know you ain’t home yet. This is Charlotte. I keep missing you and just wanted to see how you was feeling. I hope you doing okay. Me and the kids is good. Al ain’t in the best of spirits. He’s going on a long trip. Don’t know for how long. Anyway, I would really love to come out there if you need me to, but I’d have to take a train, and right now I don’t have nobody to watch the kids, but just let me know what you want me to do. I love you, Mama. You take care, and let me know when you gon’ be home. I wish I could send you some flowers, but remember what happened last time? You were allergic to ’em. Anyway, you take care. Get well. And don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Couldn’t be better. Love you again. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”