Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [110]
Precious lowered her eyes to the floor and didn't say anything.
"I thought that was the case or at least I certainly hoped so," Tee said, and then looked back at Saphronia.
"Now, Saphronia. I know you take a lot of pride in not talking like the rest of us but Precious is right. You voice is all wrong for what you have to do. And there ain't no sense in half stepping on something like this."
Saphronia nodded her head in resignation. As much as she knew they were right about her voice, she still did not want to walk up in that place talking like the two of them.
"Tee, do you have any shoes that will look good with this dress?" Precious asked.
"Sure do. Got a pair of silver pumps with five-inch heels that'll look real good with that dress. Is that all you need?"
"No. I think Saphronia gone need some kind of wig."
Tee studied Saphronia's face a moment. "My son Junie's girlfriend got the perfect wig. It's red, kind of blond-like but it'll look pretty good on you. Lord knows it don't do nothing for her. I'll call Junie and tell him to bring it when he come over to help me take the dinners over to the club."
The afternoon Saphronia spent with Tee and Precious was the best that she had ever had with other women. Tee fixed them a delicious lunch of fresh pole beans from her garden, cooked with red onions and crispy slices of bacon, salad with fresh home-grown tomatoes, cucumbers, and green onions, and cornbread so light and fluffy it practically melted in your mouth. They talked about everything—men, sex, working, white folks, the civil rights movement—and, of course, they talked about Marcel so bad that Precious swore that his ears were burning off.
Tee lit a cigarette, looked at the clock on the wall, and said as she blew a long stream of smoke out of her mouth, "It's almost 3:30 and I got to pack up dinners to take over to the funeral home for this evening." She took another draw on the cigarette and said to Saphronia, "Girl, you be sure to do some more work on your talkin'. 'Cause right now, chile, the way you sounding up in here is right pitiful."
This time Saphronia laughed and said in her best imitation of Precious and Tee, "Girl, you quit worryin' 'bout me 'n go 'n get those dinners all fixed up."
Precious was so impressed by this she hit the side of the kitchen table and said, "By jaw, I think she done gone and got it," in her best imitation of a crisp British-sounding accent.
Saphronia rolled her eyes. "Precious, it is by Jove, I think she's got it."
Tee laughed. "Now, what about that hair?"
"Go get dressed," Precious told Saphronia. "Then we can get to work."
A half hour later, Saphronia returned to the kitchen dressed, perfumed, and barefoot. Her plain face and the straight brown hair hanging down her back were in sharp contrast to the sassy and sophisticated dress she was wearing. She sat down in a chair and Precious draped an old sheet around her shoulders.
"Saphronia, girl, I don't know how I gonna pin all of this long, pretty hair up tight enough to fit under a wig."
She pulled Saphronia's hair away from her face and mixed some Vaseline with a dab of foundation. "Your skin is kind of dry, and this will make it have a nice glow to it."
She began to apply the foundation and Saphronia closed her eyes, completely relaxed under the cool, soothing touch of Precious's soft fingers on her face. Once the foundation was applied to Precious's satisfaction, she put black mascara on Saphronia's lashes, which made her eyes look wider. Then, she put on some pink eye shadow and lined her eyes with a black pencil, smudging some of the liner in the corners of her eyes. She took a big brush and dusted her cheeks with some blush, then finished with a light dusting of face powder to set the makeup in place. Last of all, she took a Q-Tip and lined out the natural shape of Saphronia's lips with a soft pink lipstick, filling it in with feathery strokes so that her thin mouth would look more lush. She stood back and admired her work for a few seconds.
"Saphronia, girl,