Mama B - a Time to Love Page 6

  The choir sang one of our old-time favorites, “Do Not Pass Me By.” Lord knows I wasn’t tryin’ to measure Frank’s church-goin’ experience, but after Eunice gave me a new definition of what it means to grow up in church, I needed to test and see if Frank had some kind of church background. Otherwise, we might have a mismatch of understandings.

  I snuck a peek at his lips to see if he actually knew the words. “Hear. My. Hum. Ble-cryyyyyyyyy,” the choir sang. To my relief, Frank’s lips moved in unison with the rest of us. Thank You, Lord.

  By the third song, the church was close to packed. Every time I turned around to see the crowd, I noticed another face I hadn’t seen in years. I certainly didn’t want to bring attention to myself, but when people waved, I had to wave back or blow them a kiss. So nice to be around people you know and love and worked alongside in the Lord’s Kingdom.

  Angela gave the welcome, followed by a response from one of the members of the St. Luke Baptist. Ophelia read the occasion and introduced Rev. Dukes as the MC. Then, to my surprise, Pastor took the pulpit.

  “I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord,” he started, to which the church replied with an agreeing ‘amen.’

  “To the Mount Peasner church and to our friends and family, again, I want to publicly thank all of you who have been so gracious to me in my time of bereavement. I received so many cards, so many encouraging notes, so many offers and shows of help from so many of you since my lovely wife, Geneva, passed away. Again, I want to say thanks.”

  “Mmmm hmmm,” from all of us.

  “I also see the good Dr. Wilson present today.” Pastor gestured toward us. “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife in her last days.”

  Frank nodded.

  Pastor cleared his throat. “But there’s one thing I’ve learned in all this, and that is to give flowers while they can be smelled,” he continued.

  “Amen.”

  “Once a person is gone, you won’t have the chance to thank them.”

  “You right,” Henrietta barked.

  “Now, I know we’ve never done this at Mt. Zion Baptist Church, but I have to tell you that when I called around to make several personal invitations to the Friends and Family Day program, so many people asked about one person in particular that I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt we needed to honor this long-time member.”

  Immediately, I started thinking about Ophelia. She’s always helping with the programs and stepping in when people back out for whatever reason. And she do so much stuff that people don’t even know about, like how she been so good at taking care of Henrietta. I could hardly wait for Ophelia to get her moment in the spotlight!

  Pastor said, “She has meant so much to the church. Literally, she and her husband donated the land we worship on today.”

  Goodness, he’s talking about me! My heart got to skippin’ so fast.

  “And so today, we want to take some time to honor a faithful member of Mt. Zion Baptist Church of Peasner, TX. Mother Beatrice Mama B Jackson, also known as Mama B.”

  Folks got to clappin’ and standin’ while they was lookin’ my way. Frank stood up, too, and smiled at me. Then he held out his hand to help me up, and Lord knows I needed his help because my knees was a-shakin’. Me?

  A flood of love washed through my heart and came spilling out of my eyes. I grabbed Frank’s hand and held onto it in plain confusion. In fact, I dragged him all the way to the end of our row before I realized I’d been holding onto him.

  Clive started playing the graduation song as I joined Pastor on the level below the pulpit. That Clive can be so silly sometimes, but I love him, too.

  LaTonya from the wives’ ministry placed a bouquet of flowers in the crook of my elbow while Angela gave me a gift bag to occupy my other hand. And Pastor read off a letter from the city of Peasner decreeing the following Monday to be Beatrice “Mama B” Jackson day.

  Y’all, I know there’s more to what happened when they honored me, but I was so shocked by it all, I don’t remember half of it. I just remember I could hardly see the whole thing from all the tears in my eyes. All those hands clappin’, all those people hollerin’ for me. People coming up to the podium saying ‘thank you’ for helping me raise my daughter, for saving my marriage, for bringing me food, for praying with me, for the card I sent, for the money I gave—most of that stuff was done in secret. It was, I hope, a preview of what it will be like to hear Jesus say, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”

  I know it will mean more when He says it, but it was nice to hear on earth.

  After all the hoopla, I returned to my seat. Frank set my gift basket on the floor and winked at me. That little wink was awful sweet.

  But soon as I settled back down, Henrietta turned her head around and hissed, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, acceptin’ that award when you know you shackin’ with this here doctor. As if you ain’t rich enough already. Shameful.”

  She whipped her head back before I could respond.

  Frank must have heard her accusation. He gave me a quizzical stare. I shook my head in response. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  We managed to make it through the rest of the reunion service without incident from Henrietta. I did my very best to steer clear of her path. When we all moved to the fellowship hall for dinner, I waited behind, talking to people, so Henrietta could be far away from me.

  Of course, in the process of staying behind to chat, everyone wanted to meet Frank. A few people already knew him from his work at the hospital, but most of them were just impressed with the fact of him being a doctor.

  Sister Inez, who always got some kind of ailment, took the liberty of rolling up her sleeve and showing him a big, nasty boil on her elbow. I mean, that thing look like the devil himself tacked it onto her. “Whatchu think I oughtta do, Doctor?”

  “I think you need to go to your doctor,” Frank advised.

  “Uh hun,” she said, “that’s exactly what I told my husband, but he don’t think nothing’s wrong with me. I’mma tell him I got a professional opinion. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We finally made it to the kitchen. Pastor made room for me and Frank at his table, right alongside the Dukes’s and Rev. Martin. We ate, talked, and laughed so much that I forgot about being all jittery with Frank around my church family. Truth be told, I had been worried about how people would receive Frank, seeing as so many of them adored my husband. But they actually seemed to kind of like the idea of me and Dr. Wilson. I had gotten my nerves all worked up for nothing.

  The younger ladies forbade me to help them in the kitchen. Shooed me slamp out the way. “We got this, Mama B. You go on and entertain your male friend over there.”

  By this point, I figured I might as well go on and get over their teasin’. I snapped my fingers. “I most certainly will, thank you very much.” Couldn’t help but laugh at myself.

  “Woooh!” Janice cooed. “Go on, then! If anybody deserves to be happy in love, it’s you.”

  I waved off her words and returned to the table wondering, Is that what they think? I’m in love?

  Most of the peoples was gone out the fellowship hall by then. Our table was clear except for Cynthia, seeing as the other menfolk had excused themselves and gone back to the business office for something or another. One of Frank’s old buddies pulled him outside to catch up.

  I figured I’d stay inside until they finished washing the empty containers so I could retrieve mine. I love the church folk, but I don’t trust nobody to return my good Pyrex bowls after a potluck.

  Now that it was just me and Cynthia sitting at the table, I noticed a certain coolness about her. Come to think of it, she really hadn’t had too much to say to me. She’d talked around me, but not to me. Must be something on her mind. “Cynthia, sweetie, you alright?”

  She blinked, picking at something on her skirt. I followed her hand motions and saw that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her sk
irt.

  “Seem like something’s bothering you.”

  She took a deep breath. “Mama B, I really don’t know if I should say this.”

  I felt my forehead crinkling up as I witnessed the troubled expression on her face. “Well, if you don’t know, I won’t press you.” If it’s one thing I hope I done taught women, it’s to keep your mouth shut until God give you the words.

  But she blurted out, “It’s…Dr. Wilson.”

  She had done let the cat out the bag, now. “Oh? What about Frank?”

  “Just…be careful with him. He hasn’t always been the kind, thoughtful, faithful man he’s presented himself as today. Leopards don’t change their spots.”

  Woman-to-woman, I knew what she was hintin’ at.

  Pastor, Rev. Dukes, and Rev. Martin mozied on back in the fellowship hall just then. In a way, I was glad because I didn’t want to encourage Cynthia to keep talkin’. On the other hand, I wanted to know the details. How exactly did she know Frank? How exactly did she know about his faithfulness, or lack of it?

  Well, if I was anywhere close to hopping on the “in love” train with Dr. Frank Wilson, I had reason to check my ticket twice now.

  Chapter 12

  I tossed and turned so until I had to get up out the bed that night. Frank? Unfaithful? Now, I know everybody got a past. Everybody got something they gon’ take to the grave with ‘em. But Cynthia had started me on thinkin’ about Frank’s moral character.

  I knew about the wine-drinkin’ and the cussin’-movie watchin’, but those were things I realized I would have to leave between him and the Lord. Albert did plenty of stuff I didn’t think was right, but I didn’t really know about ‘em ‘til after we was married. Good thing, too. Back before the Lord changed me, I didn’t know how to stay in love with somebody who wasn’t doin’ what I wanted them to do.

  Had to be about one o’clock in the morning when I got up to use the restroom. I called myself being quiet so I wouldn’t wake Eunice, but she was up. The light shined under her door, and I heard her mumbling to somebody must be on the phone. Couldn’t make out the words, but she wasn’t havin’ no friendly conversation, that was for sure. Sound like me and her both was havin’ a rough night.

  I took something for my lactose intolerance and then ate a cup of yogurt with fruit and granola. Albert used to laugh at me ‘cause even my midnight-munchies snacks be healthy.

  On my pass back through to my bedroom, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on Eunice, but her voice came through clearly. “How many times do I have to apologize to you? Don’t you know it’s haunted me every day for the past fifteen years?”

  Goodness, no wonder she’s so miserable. Been punishing herself. I didn’t know who was on the other end of that line, but it musta been somebody important for her to be up arguin’ with them at that time of night.

  Suddenly, I heard Eunice’s phone slam shut. She began to weep softly, yet loud enough for me to hear it on the other side of the door. I stopped. Put my hand on the doorknob, wondering if I should try and go in or leave her to the Lord and her feelings. Since I wasn’t sure, I rapped on the door to ask her.

  “Eunice, you okay?”

  “Um...yes. I’m so sorry I woke you.”

  “It’s all right. I was already up gettin’ a snack,” I spoke to her through the door.

  I heard her sniff. “A snack sure sounds good right about now.”

  Gently, I cracked the door open and peeked in with a smile. “I’ve got some yogurt.”

  “No offense, B, but yogurt is not comfort food.” She tapped on over to meet and follow me back down the hallway with her cane in hand. “Have you got anything sweet or crunchy?”

  We stopped at the pantry. I took a look inside, with Eunice directly behind me.

  “You’ve got popcorn,” she spied, pointing to the top shelf. “That’ll do.”

  I stretched to retrieve the box. Had to check the expiration date to see if it was still good. “This must be your day. It’s still okay, but it’s the healthy kind. No salt and no fat.”

  “We could pour butter and salt on it,” she suggested.

  She just determined to eat all wild, I see. I figured I might as well share my secret stash with her. “I’ve got some butter and cheese sprinkles I put on my great-grandson’s popcorn when he’s here.”

  As the popcorn popped in the microwave, I watched Eunice fidget at the table. Seem like she was itching to get something off her chest. Lord knows after Cynthia’s big bombshell, I wasn’t in the mood for no more confessions.

  The timer went off. I fixed her bowl Cameron-style, smothering the white puffs until it looked more yellow than white. Have to admit, it smelled so good, I took a napkin and trickled some onto a napkin for myself. Not too many.

  Eunice crunched and closed her eyes in bliss. “Mmmmm. This is so good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I used to make popcorn for my kids. You remember those popcorn poppers where you had to pour the kernels into a well and the popcorn came shooting out of the yellow top?” She smiled.

  “Yeah, we had one of those. Did you ever do the kind where you put the tin pan over the stove’s eye?”

  Eunice threw her head back in laughter. “Oh my goodness! I almost burned up our house with that one!”

  I was glad to hear her talk about some good times with her family. Warms a mother’s heart. “How many kids?”

  “Three. One died in an accident. Got two left. The judge and the teacher. Not too bad, huh?”

  “Not bad at all,” I complimented her. “Sounds like they’ve done good for themselves.”

  “What about your kids?” she wanted to know.

  Chile, we got to talkin’ ‘bout our kids, their degrees, and their jobs. Then we went down memory lane, talkin’ ‘bout all the times they broke stuff in the house, the crazy pets they had, and their silly jokes.

  Turns out, Eunice’s deceased son died in a car wreck when he was a teenager. Drunk driving accident. By the Spirit, I knew this had something to do with why she’d been upset for the last fifteen years. Since I ain’t never lost a child, I don’t know that pain. I don’t know what kind of mess it would have made me if I’d gone through such a loss. And lost two husbands, too? Lord, have mercy.

  We stayed up bumpin’ our gums until almost two o’clock in the morning, and y’all know I don’t be out the bed after 9:00 p.m. unless the Lord say otherwise. But that Eunice was a lot of fun to talk to. She made me remember what it was like to come home and unwind with somebody.

  Albert could talk your ear off! Sometimes, he’d be talking so until I fell asleep on him. That didn’t hardly stop him, though. He’d shake me and say, “B, you up?”

  I’d yawn, “I am now.” Ha!

  Eunice finally said, “Ooh, I’m ‘bout to hit the sack.”

  “Me too.”

  “Thanks for listening, B.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Thanks for letting me listen.”

  Eunice rinsed out the bowl and set it in the dishwasher. We turned out the kitchen light and returned toward the bedrooms. “Night, B.”

  “Night.”

  When I got back in my room, it hit me that I hadn’t said one word to her about the Lord. I didn’t feel bad about it, though. Eunice the type don’t respond to somebody preachin’ about love. She the kind that got to feel it before she’ll listen to words.

  Me and Eunice made a trip to the Walmart and got some more groceries for the house. Of course, folk was starin’ at her with all that riff-raff on her face. Her eyes weren’t so bad anymore, but since she had taken the bandages off her arms, anyone who got close could see the black string sewn into her skin.

  She rode around in the handicapped buggy, throwing all kinds of foolishness into the basket. Good thing we had already decided she should be well enough by the end of the week to move back to wherever she wanted to go. In the meanwhile, she said she needed some “real” food.

  That Eunice was something else.
I didn’t have a scale to prove it, but I know I’d put on a few pounds already, bein’ in her company. She had cut loose in the kitchen a few times and managed to put enough seasoning and honey just right on a chicken breast—make you wanna holla! I had a mind to let her cook as often as she wanted to after that.

  She grabbed a few pairs of pull-on pants, shirts, and a pair of flip-flops.

  “It’ll be getting cool soon. You might want to get something a little warmer,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Some of those shelters might as well be made out of paper for as cold as they get in the winter,” she said, dropping a sweatshirt into our stash.

  I, personally, wasn’t looking forward to dropping her off at some shelter, but I could see she was getting antsy. She was smokin’ outside more. Mumbling to herself. She wouldn’t agree to go to the upcoming Wednesday night service. She apologized, said I didn’t have to worry about her breaking my rules much longer.

  “B, go on and get what you want,” Eunice prompted several times as we swept up and down the store’s center aisles.

  “We ain’t at the fruit and vegetable section yet. That’s where I do most of my grocery shoppin’,” I said.

  “Well, whatever you want, just throw it in the basket. I’m buying,” she insisted.

  Put together, our bill came to a little over eighty dollars. Then she added cigarettes and that took it up to a hundred. She pulled out a VISA card, swiped through the machine. Of course, I didn’t pay no attention to what all she was doing as she conducted the transaction.

  But when she was done, the girl gave her cash. Eunice thrust it into my hand before I knew what she was doing. “Here you go, B.”

  “Eunice, I ain’t asked you for no money.”

  “I know. I’m giving it to you.”

  The cashier chimed in, “Shoot, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.”

  Well, I’m not one to insult someone who’s trying to bless me. I stuffed the money into my pocketbook. “Thank you, Eunice.”

  Since Eunice had to walk to the car on her cane, of course she trailed behind me. Good thing, too, ‘cause now I was starting to wonder where Eunice gettin’ all this money from. I got to doin’ the math up in my head. She said she gave the person who brought her to Peasner fifty dollars, she gave me fifty dollars, she done spent a hundred dollars at Walmart and another hundred-and-something she had just gave me. That’s goin’ on four hundred dollars in less than a week, with no job to speak of. But she beggin’ for food from the food pantry and stayin’ in homeless shelters.