25 We go back to that lawyer and wait for over two hours. What’d he give us an appointment for if he’s so busy? Aunt Geneva keeps shuffling the papers and looking at her watch. Finally I say, “Can I see those papers?” “They’re for the lawyer,” she says. “I know. But can I see them?” She hesitates. “Mama showed me everything,” I say. Aunt Geneva hands me the stack. There’s my birth certificate on top, Jerome William Mason. Place of birth: Cincinnati, Ohio. University Hospital. Next is my parents’ marriage license. Underneath the date are their names: William Randall Mason and Sylvia Nicole Jackson. I wonder if Mama wanted to change her last name. “When ladies get married, do they have to change their names?” I ask. “It’s the custom,” Aunt Geneva says. “But do they have to?” “It’s not a must.” “I’m not ever changing my name,” I tell her. She pulls her eyebrows together. “It would be simpler if we all had the same last name, Jerome.”
