The Price is Right and Coffee

After breakfast, when we were all stuffed to our nostrils with bacon, eggs and hash browns, Lillian excused herself and headed up to the bathroom. At least, that is where we assumed she was going. We weren’t like vultures heading up after her to sneak a listen at the door. We didn’t have to do such a thing, we could hear her coughing and choking as the toilet flushed and the shower ran.

She wasn’t in the shower or getting ready to be; not unless she made a mess doing her business and needed to clean it out of her thick long blonde hair. However, she did turn it on every time. I suppose it was to drown her self inflicted noises out. I am sure it didn’t work because we could her loud and clear.

We all suspected what she doing. She was drawn to the toilet like a mosquito to a light. We never said anything though. We all just looked at mama who shook her head and said, “Who is ready for some Price is Right and coffee?”

That was mama’s way of moving on.

I guess it was a healer for her. After papa Jones died, she told the funeral director she wanted a TV tuned to The Price is Right during his service. We all found it a little odd, but just nodded and smiled in agreement when the funeral director looked our way for approval. And there it was on that cold November night; a 20” TV on a yellow stand behind papa’s casket. Bob Barker could be heard throughout the parlor.

Every once in a while mama would yell, “That’s not the right price you fool! You are not going to win that damn car with your stupidity.”

Reverend Burkelow would stop, stare at mama in disbelief and ask, “May I proceed?”

Mama would huff and mumble, “How am I supposed to know what’s going on when ya’all keep interrupting my game? I have to be on my toes you know?”

Lillian eventually would come down from her royal thrown with an astonished look on her face as to why we were all so calm. If you ask me, she wanted attention. I had hoped she didn’t wash out her mouth and still had an acid taste dancing on her tongue.

Lillian was the middle child of the five girls mama had and then there was me, Brett, Jacob and Jack. When Jack came along, Lillian was right around hitting puberty and mama was in denial because of it. She knew that Lillian was going to be a so-called “tough cookie” and she was right. I don’t know what gave her such an idea. It must have been the way Lillian snuck makeup onto the bus and then washed it off before coming home. Or the way she stole all mama’s nursing pads and stuffed her training bra until she was a double d.

At age 11, Lillian was already parading boys in and out of her life. She was fickle with them and desperate to fit in with Sandy and Marty, her two older sisters. Sandy was captain of the cheerleading squad and had boys drooling over her since she reached high school. Marty was beauty queen and happened to be dating the star football player. Lillian was honestly a bookworm nerd who lurked in Marty’s closet, eating donuts and cutting holes into her shirts.

She would often try to make mama mad by telling her, “I want a guy with a Harley. And maybe some tattoo’s too.” Mama would whip her head and say, “Lillian Bell Winnie, our God doesn’t condone such ridiculous behavior. You don’t know any guys with such things anyway. The boys you bring home can barely ride a bicycle.”

I never understood Lillian’s tactics to getting attention. She tried too hard to win mama’s love. We were all in competition for it, but it seemed that only one person held the key to mama’s heart… Bob Barker.

Mama would look at him with dreamy eyes and at the end of the show say, “Good job Bob- I will spade or neuter every animal on the block to please you.”

Not to say that mama never took care of us or loved us, but she just wasn’t the regular mom. She never baked cookies or brownies, unless we were invited to watch The Price is Right with her. She never wiped things off our face with spit on her hanky, never took us underwear shopping then follow us into the dressing room and say, “Is your package okay? I want grandkids some day.”

No, mama wasn’t mama until she had her fill of Bob Barker.

I think that is when everything changed. Mama sat us down in the living room, each of our hearts pounded so hard we thought there were gremlins in our chest trying to break free. “Kids: Marty, Sandy, Lillian, Paulette, Emma, Charlie, Brett, Jacob and Jack- I am leaving. I am going to California. I am going to get my Bobby.”

She called him ‘Bobby’ when she had the look of love in her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she did this. She tried to drive to California once before from here in Lipinsip, Mississippi. She didn’t make it. I guess she made it to Texas where she met Papa Jones and they had this thing on the beach. She turned around and brought him home. Two years after they met… he died, and well- you know how that went. She assured us and then reassured us that this trip would be different. She wouldn’t be stopping for any fun, just to eat and sleep.

I don’t suppose that I ever really thought mama was going to make it there. And if she did, I was close to positive that Bob Barker would not be gracing our doorstep too soon if ever.

Of course, what can I say? Mama was determined to have him. She decided to save her nickels and dimes and hit up us kids for money. We had somehow talked her into flying to California, in hopes that she would get scared and decide not to go. She referred to planes as giant pigeons that were hard to shoot down. I guess mama was more determined to get to California than we had all originally had thought, because the moment she got enough money for round-trip ticket, she was packing her bags and heading out.

Mama had her ticket to the show stuffed in her purse with her makeup. She informed us that she would be on the show in the morning and to watch closely in the crowd for her. We had no doubt we would see her. She had been practicing her wave for the camera for weeks. She would sit on the couch, then jump up like a wild gorilla and then sit back down gently in her seat, as she brushed the stray gray hairs from her eyes and pressed her lips firmly together to smudge her flying spit with her lipstick.

To me, she looked ridiculous, but she claimed that Bob Barker was her soul mate and she had to make him see it too; I suppose she was going to do it whether or not we all tried to stop her. Sometimes in my mind I wonder if mama ever planned out what to do if this hadn’t gone according to her plans. I think she didn’t. Otherwise, she would have told us plan A and plan B, or maybe not and she has plans for each letter of the alphabet and just hopes one of them will work.

And there she was, mama sat there in the crowd with her bright blue dress on and that preposterous looking feathered hat on. She stood out like cow in a chicken coop. Everyone gathered around the TV, cheering on mama as the announcer finally said, “Tilly Jones, COME ON DOWN!” My brothers and sister were hooting and hollering as mama ran down the aisle to her place in line. And just as she made it to her spot and Bob said hi, she ripped off her blue dress, let down her hair from the hat and revealed her jeans and T-shirt that said, “BOB, MARRY ME!” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I had never been so embarrassed in my life, but now that I had already been watching, I knew I had to see what would happen next.

Bob blinked his eyes a few times as he came closer to mama to read her shirt. “Bob, I love you,” Mama blurted out when Bob came close enough. Then she grabbed him by the head and planted a kiss on him.

Needless to say, mama was escorted away by security before she could even give a bid. But she didn’t leave silent, she shouted the whole way, things we couldn’t make out, but something to the effect of, “We belong together” I suppose.

Weeks went by and mama didn’t come home. She called and called, but never came home. She said she was determined to get her “prize” and that she wouldn’t leave California without him. Finally after Lillian talked to mama and tricked her into come by saying Bob was here looking for, mama walked through the front door only to be saddened by his non-presence and maddened by Lillian’s behavior and lying.

Mama moped around the house like a dust bunny, until the Friday morning we found her on the couch surrounded by pictures of Bob Barker. We had mama’s service there at the same funeral home we had Papa Jones’. TV’s surround the place, some showing her appearance on The Price is Right and some just playing other episodes. Everyone had a cup of coffee and everyone said their goodbyes. We were all ready to lay mama to rest when Bob walked in the door and said, “I’ll never forget such a determined contestant.” Bob kissed the casket and laid a flower on top as he grabbed his coffee and watched some of The Price is Right.