Now, Trevor is the only one in the house with a ounce of sense, but it’s hard to tell what he’s gon’ do with it. He smart as hell—get straight A’s and everything—but he don’t seem to be interested in too much of nothing except his sewing machine and other boys, and not necessarily in that order. His mama refuse to believe that he’s like that, but I saw it in him when he was little. He was always a little soft. Did everything lightly. But he can’t help it. And even though I don’t like it, Oprah has helped me understand it. He has a right to be who he is, and I’ll love him no matter where he put his business. I just hope he don’t grow up and catch no AIDS. He dance better than both of the girls, like ain’t a bone in his body, and he been blessed with more than one talent. Besides clothes designing, the boy can also cook his ass off. It wouldn’t kill his mama to take a long hard look in his room to get a few decorating ideas either, ’cause her mix-and-match taste ain’t saying nothing. One minute she Chinese and the next she Southern Gothic or French Provincial. Some rules ain’t supposed to be broken. Class is one more thing Charlotte think she can buy.

Trevor call me collect from time to time. “I can’t wait to get out of here, Granny,” he say each and every time we talk. “But it’s okay. Two more years, Granny. And I’ll be free.”

Is that a real-live nurse coming in here carrying a tray? Yum yum yum. More babyfood? Who can swallow when you got a tube going down your throat and through your nose? I done already had two breathing treatments since this morning, what she want now? Nothing. All she do is look up at the numbers on those machines and then smile at me. “Comfortable?” she ask, and I shake my head no, since she know good and damn well I can’t hardly mumble, but she just kinda curtsy and say, “Good,” then turn around and walk out! If I was able to open my mouth I’d say, “Huzzy! I’m hungry as hell, cold as hell, and I could sure use a stiff drink.” But I can’t talk. And Lord knows I’m scared, ’cause I’m still here in ICU and I’m bored and I wanna go home, even though I know ain’t nobody there waiting for me. Cecil been gone since the first of the year, but I don’t feel like thinking about his old ass right now. That’s another reason why I’m glad I got kids.