The Heart of a Woman - Maya Angelou [46]
I had no time to think of the consequences of what I was going to say. The woman, of course, was not my friend, but even a polite acquaintance would not have tried to embarrass or challenge me in public. She had never bought me a pound of dried lima beans and was utterly unable to make me ugly up my face between the sheets. She could blow it out of her behind.
“I'm marrying him, and I'm tearing up your invitation to the wedding.”
John Killens turned. “What the hell you say?”
Rosa, who knew all my secrets, widened her eyes and asked, “Since when?”
I dealt with all the questions with a coolness I didn't feel.
It was true that Thomas had not asked me to marry him, and Guy had no special regard for him. I knew I wasn't in love with him, but I was lonely and I would make a good wife. I could cook, clean house and I had never been unfaithful, even to a boyfriend. Our lives would be quiet.
I was getting used to the idea and even liking it. We'd buy a nice house out on Long Island, where he had relatives. I would join a church and some local women's volunteer organizations. Guy wouldn't mind another move if he was assured that it was definitely the last one. I would let my hair grow out and get it straightened and wear pretty hats with flowers and gloves and look like a nice colored woman from San Francisco.
When I told Thomas that I wanted to get married, he nodded and said, “I've been thinking about that myself. I guess it's time.”
Guy accepted the news gravely. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I hope you'll be happy, Mother.” He turned away, then back again. “We'll be moving again, won't we?”
I lied about my daydreams, reminding him that Thomas had a large apartment only blocks from our house, which meant that he wouldn't have to change schools again. I thought to myself, maybe we wouldn't buy our house on Long Island until Guy went away to college.
My announcement was cheerfully received at the office. Hazel hugged me and said, “There's nothing like having a good man.” She was happily married, so I expected her response.
Abbey looked at me quizzically. “Maya Angelou, I hope you know what you're doing.”
“I don't, but I'm going to pray a lot.”
She laughed and promised to pray with me. She was diligently minding her new marriage, keeping her penthouse immaculate and recording complicated music with Max.
Rosa was practical. “He's not jealous, is he? If you marry a jealous man, life will be hell.” I told her he wouldn't have any reason for jealousy.
Rosa was writing every day, coping with her large rambunctious family, being courted by handsome African diplomats and working in a factory to pay her rent.
My two closest friends were too busy with the times and their own lives to talk me out of my rash decision.
Thomas gave me an engagement ring and said we'd marry in three months. We would be married in Virginia, his home state, in the church where his parents were married. Then we would drive to Pensacola, Florida, because he always wanted to fish in the Gulf of Mexico. Guy would stay with his family while we were away.
Obviously he didn't require my agreement, since he didn't ask for it. The decision to marry me automatically gave him authority to plan all our lives. I ignored the twinge which tried to warn me that I should stop and do some serious thinking.
I had never seen Virginia or Florida. Travel was a lovely thing to look forward to.
Time and opportunity were remolding my life. I closed my lips and agreed, with a new demureness.
CHAPTER 8
One Monday morning Hazel told me that over the weekend she had heard a South African freedom fighter speak. He was so thorough and so brilliant that even the biggest fool in the world had to see that Apartheid was evil