The Sweet Potato Queens' First Big-Ass Novel Read Free Page B

Jewish boy like Gerald.
    â€œIt just so happens that Tammy lives with her mother, who is the new housekeeper for the Peterson family on Marcy’s street,” Gerald said, in a low, secretive voice. “She lives in the converted carriage house behind the main house.”
    Tammy was the daughter of a maid? There was no lower ranking in our school’s social strata.
    â€œOh Lord,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “She mentioned she was going to try and join the Key Club today. I tried to discourage her, but she insisted.”
    My news stunned us into silence, as we all imagined Tammy’s dreadful fate.
    â€œShe was such a pretty girl,” Gerald said solemnly, as if delivering her eulogy.
    Mary Bennett fanned her face with a napkin and said, “Those monsters will eat her alive. Her ass is grass.”
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    The next day I nearly fell out when I spotted Marcy and Tammy in the hall, walking arm in arm like sisters.
    â€œHey there, Jill,” Tammy said. I noticed she was wearing the same skirt as yesterday, which is a fashion felony with Marcy’s crowd. “I wanted to thank you again for opening my locker for me. You saved my life.” She turned to Marcy. “Do you and Jill know each other?”
    â€œOf course we do,” Marcy said. Her smile was blinding, her hair gleamed platinum, and even the whites of her eyes seemed brighter than the average person’s. “Jill and I go back a long time, don’t we, hunny? We’re like this.” Marcy crossed her fingers together.
    She sounded so sweetly sincere that I was momentarily caught off guard. But when I looked at her face, her blue eyes held a reptilian coldness that seemed to say, “Go ahead and contradict me, little missy. I dare you.”
    I felt my shoulders slumping, an automatic reaction to being in Marcy’s presence.
    â€œHey, Marcy. Good to see ya,” I mumbled.
    â€œI better get to class,” Marcy said. She reached out to squeeze Tammy’s wrist. “See you at lunch?”
    â€œI’ll be there,” Tammy said.
    I winced at her familiarity with Marcy.
    â€œEveryone is so friendly here,” she said to me after Marcy left.
    â€œIt does appear that way,” I said, not meeting Tammy’s eyes.
    â€œAnd you were wrong about the Key Club. They welcomed me with open arms. If you’re interested I could put in a good word for you. There’s supposed to be a reception at Marcy’s house tomorrow night. Maybe you could come?”
    â€œI have to wash my hair, but thanks.”
    â€œToo bad,” Tammy said with a pout. “I bet it’s going to be a blast.”
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    â€œNow, let me get this straight, y’all only use the first few books of the Bible?” Mary Bennett said, propping her elbows on the Formica table and cocking her head quizzically at Gerald, who was sitting across from her.
    â€œYou’re not supposed to talk about religion or money or politics in polite company,” I said, sliding across the high-backed vinyl booth. Most days after school the four of us gathered at the lunch counter at Brent’s Drugstore about three blocks from the school.
    â€œWho says we’re in polite company?” Mary Bennett said. She pointed to Patsy, who was sitting next to Gerald. “Look at Swiss Miss over there picking her teeth.”
    â€œOh, sorry,” Patsy said, dipping her blond head in embarrassment.
    â€œAnyhoo,” Mary Bennett said. “What do y’all do? Read the Bible and ignore the parts you don’t like? Does the preacher say, y’all don’t read ahead ’cause we don’t believe in that mess coming up?”
    â€œIt’s called the Torah, Mary Bennett,” Gerald said patiently. “And it has only the first five books of the Bible. And Jews have rabbis, not preachers.”
    â€œYou do realize that y’all are missing out on the best parts?” Mary Bennett said,