From Chapter 1 Once Sylvia Mention realized Rowtina was not inviting Turtle's brothers back to the apartment, she insisted on coming herself. "We should talk about what you're going to do now."As soon as they got inside, Mrs. Mention instructed Rowtina, "Lay out all your financial papers on the bed. That way we can see what you need to worry about."Rowtina held her tongue and went directly into the bathroom. She locked the door, slammed the toilet seat lid down, and sat with her fingers in her ears as she'd done when she was seven. She hummed and tapped her foot -- she'd called it the Drowning-Out Song when she was a girl -- but it was as useless now as it had always been.
The sound of Sylvia Mention could not be diminished. "If you tell me where everything is" -- her voice rang out like a drill piercing the bathroom wall -- "I'll start to sort it out for you. It shouldn't take long, if you've been organized at all."Rowtina stayed inside until she assumed her mother had wearied of talking to the bathroom door. When she went out, though, she understood why her mother had given up her one-sided conversation about Rowtina's finances. Sylvia Mention had found a project she didn't need her daughter's help with. From the dresser Rowtina and Turtle shared, her mother had emptied Turtle's clothes onto the bed and was busy stuffing them into plastic garbage bags."Do you have any more of these?" Mrs.
Mention held up one of the bags. "I've used up what was left in the box I found under the sink." When Rowtina didn't answer immediately, Mrs. Mention went back to her task. "Most of it can go to Goodwill," she said. "I left the uniforms separate. Maybe you can call UPS and have somebody come get them. Some other driver would probably be glad to have them.
"Rowtina leapt toward her. "You have to stop, Mama. We can't do this.""You can't, honey, and I understand. That's why I'm doing it for you.""No. Stop. You have to stop!" It was almost a yell.
Near enough, certainly, for Sylvia Mention to look up sharply into her daughter's face. If Rowtina had been ten or even fifteen, she might have been slapped for her insolence. But when her mother's eyes met hers, Rowtina was sure Sylvia Mention saw something that surprised her. She stared in the same way she had when Rowtina began to call out questions to Turtle in church. She must have seen the lines in Rowtina's forehead and the way her jaw kept moving back and forth involuntarily like it had come loose from the rest of her face. Sylvia Mention must have decided that there was something so unfamiliar, so unnatural about her daughter in that moment that it was obvious she was beyond reason. She watched silently as Rowtina undid the knots she'd tied so meticulously at the mouth of each bag. Pulling out all of the clothes, Rowtina padded back and forth to the dresser with them, placing them back into it as though she'd just washed and ironed them fresh for Turtle.
Softly, Sylvia Mention said to her daughter, "If now is not the right time for us to begin to get things in order, I suppose it can wait until you're feeling better. When are you planning on going back to work?"Rowtina answered from her knees, where she was refolding one of Turtle's favorite shirts -- a green and yellow plaid. "Monday," she said. "They asked me if I wanted to take some more time, but I said no."Sylvia Mention reached for her coat. "Good. It's probably better that way." She stood for a moment, waiting.
When Rowtina didn't move, Sylvia went to her. She leaned down so that Rowtina could lift her face for a kiss good-bye. Rowtina felt her there but didn't look up. She continued to stroke the collar of a burgundy sweater Turtle wore on cold days over his UPS shirt. Sylvia bent further and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Come to my church, Sunday morning. I'll make an early dinner for later."When her mother was gone, Rowtina sat back on the floor in f.