Page 7 of Honey Sugar
I walked around to the back entrance and pushed the squeaky metal door open with my hips. A breeze blew in cooling my warm face. “Thanks, Ivy Lynn.”
“No problem, Mr. Jeffries.” I handed off the box and he handed me $120.00 with an extra ten-dollar tip for me. After he left, Mama came back and looked at me with a hand fixed to her hip.
“Thank you for helping Mr. Jeffries.”
“No problem, Mama.”
“You’re a good girl.” She patted my shoulder and then went back to the front. That was how she apologized for snapping at me. To anyone else, it would have seemed like a general exchange between mother and daughter. Between us, it meant so much more though.
I knew I’d never get the kind of apology I needed to hear. That was how our relationship worked period. I took what I could get. Scavenging crumbs of love and validation whenever I could and squirreling them away for the moments when Mom wasn’t so kind.
The moments in the middle of the night when I had to help her to the first-aid kit and clean her cuts and bruises or give her a few aspirins until morning. During those times she was quiet and sullen and if she spoke she oozed calm words with a bitter tone.
Sometimes I hated her during those moments. I knew she needed me though. I knew it was foolish to expect normal, healthy love from a woman incapable of giving it to herself. If she couldn’t love herself enough to leave Daddy then how the hell could she find it in herself to love her daughter?
…
When Honey Sugar closed for the night, Mama left me to lock up while she hurried home. I pretended not to be annoyed by the fact that she was rushing home to clean up before Daddy raised hell. Like working all damn day and being on her feet wasn’t enough. She had to go home and clean the house from top to bottom too.
I put all the candy away and stored the ten unsold chocolate candies in the fridge then I counted up the register and cleaned up. Once I was done, I grabbed my secret stash of honey whiskey hard candies, locked the door and headed to my car. I always parked it on the dirt path on the side of the store. The moment I stepped onto the dusty soil, I heard someone call my name.
“Ivy Lynn, you got any more of those strawberry delights?” Mr. Jeffries stumbled over to me. His breath reeked of liquor and sour strawberries. I could smell it even though he was feet away from me. I swallowed back the unpleasant odor and forced a polite smile on my face. Mr. Jeffries always lingered a little too long when he looked at me and made sure to give me generous tips when he bought moonshine. He’d never walked up on me when I was heading to my car though.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Jeffries. We’re closed for the night. Come back in the morning and I’ll have your strawberry delights all boxed up and ready. I’ll even let you taste the new flavor I’ve been working on. It’s blackberry mint.”
“I think I’d rather taste another kind of strawberry delight, Ivy Lynn.” He lumbered forward until I felt the need to press my body against the driver’s side. I wished I could sink through the metal skeleton of the car and materialize behind the wheel. He came to a stop and swayed forward baring his teeth at me. He thought it was a smile but it wasn’t. It looked like the things mothers warn their daughters to stay away from.
“Okay, Mr. Jeffries I think its time for you to go home to Mrs. Jeffries.”
“I’ll take ten jars of moonshine if you let me taste you. I’ll eat your sweet young pussy right here on the hood of your car.”
My eyes went wide and my knees wobbled. I looked around to see if anyone was walking down the street. I was seconds away from calling for help.
“No. That’s not gonna happen.”
“It’s gonna happen, Ivy Lynn. I see the sweet way you smile at me every time I come into Honey Sugar.”
“I’m being polite.” The usual sunny disposition I had toward customers was starting to fade and its place was fear. I unlocked my car door and put my hand on the handle. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements in case Mr. Jeffries was feeling violent. Violence coming from any man terrified me after growing up with my father.
“I’m gonna go home now,” I told him. I could no longer find my smile. The way his glassy eyes were trained on me made me shiver. The temperature outside couldn’t have been less than sixty-five yet I felt like I’d freeze to death.
“You bring me that pretty pussy, Ivy.” He tried to smile again but all I saw was a horror movie playing before my eyes. Flashes of what he’d do if he got the chance.
I didn’t say another word to him. I yanked my car door open and slid in, shutting the door quickly. I hit the lock button just in time because Mr. Jeffries lunged for the door and tried to tear it open with his bare hands. A frustrated growl rumbled from his mouth and he pounded the roof of my car over and over.
My nervous fingers fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one. I had keys to Honey Sugar, the house and my car on the ring. Normally, it wasn’t a problem but right now it made leaving difficult. Metal on metal rattling in my shaky hands. My heart jolted to life in my fingertips thumping relentlessly until I found my car key.
Mr. Jeffries’ balled up fists rained down on the roof of my car like a meteor storm. I felt trapped in a cage until I heard the engine start. I pulled off leaving plumes of dust in my wake that I’m sure Mr. Jefferies choked on. I didn’t care. I wanted to get away from him and be in the safety of my own home.
I realized how laughable that thought was once I got closer to home. Safety? From within the four walls that sat on Bayou Drive? I was losing my damn mind.
I drove down the long private road to get home and pulled my nerves together. They were frayed threads doing a poor job of hiding my anxiety. I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet night air of Sugar Bayou. In the distance, I heard frogs singing their evening song while crickets and other bugs droned on in the background. I let their melodies soothe me before I got out and walked up to the door.
I walked into the astringent smell of lemon permeating the air. Mama cleaned with Lemon Pine-Sol because that’s what Daddy insisted on. I never remember another cleaning smell in our house. Only that.
“Ivy, what took you so long to get here?” Daddy’s gruff voice rolled out to meet me like a barbed wire red carpet.
“I got caught up talking to Mr. Jeffries. He uh…he tried to…” My words wouldn’t finish coming out. They were lodged on the spikes of fear settled in my throat. I knew Daddy wouldn’t give a damn if I told him Mr. Jeffries was harassing me.
