Mama Ruby

Mama Ruby

Even before she had sex, she knew it had to be good. Married people risked losing everything because of sex. Girls risked getting pregnant, catching some nasty disease, and God knew what else, but that didn’t stop them from having sex. Something that powerful had to feel good.
Ruby couldn’t wait to find out for herself what all the fuss was about. She knew enough about boys and men to know that none of them would say no, to her especially. Even though she was no raving beauty, she had the kind of body that black southern men worshipped. She was thick from top to bottom—especially her top and her bottom. Her butt was so plump and high and tight that you could bounce a quarter off of it. One of the Donaldson boys had proved that during a break from Sunday school studies one Easter morning. But the most impressive part of Ruby’s body was her bosom, so firm and perky that she didn’t even need the support of a brassiere. She balked when her mother made her wear them anyway.
 “Why do I have to wear a brassiere if I don’t need one?” she asked her mother that day her mother steamrolled into her bedroom with a bag full of those things.
 “Well, if you don’t wear a brassiere because you don’t need one, you will sure enough need one eventually. The bigger they are, the farther they fall; sooner or later.” Ruby’s mother glanced at her own bosom. “Don’t be stupid like I was.” Ruby’s mother sniffed. “Had I known what I know now when I was your age, I would have worn two strong brassieres at the same time.”
 Ruby’s face burned. The condition of her mother’s bosom was one thing that she did not care to hear about. “Yessum.”
 “You’re a woman now, Ruby Jean,” her mother said, obviously embarrassed and even a little uneasy.
When her mother sat her down for that “birds and bees” talk last week, she didn’t tell Ruby anything that she didn’t already know. She had learned everything she needed to know, and some things that she didn’t need to know, from her sisters and from other worldly kids.
 “Dang, Mama. Why you buy up this many brassieres? I only got two bosoms!” Ruby complained with amusement. She fished one of the plain new white bras out of the bag. She couldn’t understand why her mother had purchased so many this time. The bag contained at least ten bras. “I guess this means I can court with boys now?” Ruby asked hopefully.
“Naw it don’t! You still a child. You’ll have plenty of time for courtin’ boys in a few years.”
 A few years?
She was not about to wait a few more years to have some real fun. All she had to do was find the right boy.

From MAMA RUBY. Copyright © 2011 by Mary Monroe. All rights reserved.  Published by arrangement with Dafina Books/Kensington Publishing Corp.