Mama B - a Time to Love Read online

  I heard him swallow hard. “I…even if I wanted to, it would be very hard for me to get to Peasner. I’m physically disabled.”

  “My goodness, and yet you still makin’ it to work every day though, right?” I cornered him.

  “Uh…yes, ma’am.”

  Had him right where I wanted him. “Well, bless God. My address is forty-two thirty-seven Miller Street. When should we expect you?”

  His voice twittled around for a few seconds, but my immediate, silent prayer made it to God’s heart before the enemy could feed Eunice’s son another excuse. He exhaled loudly. “Tomorrow afternoon, I guess.”

  “Two-thirty will be perfect. I’ll be callin’ to make sure you don’t get lost, all right, love?” I confirmed with my best southern senior citizen accent.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Alrighty then.”

  Lord, forgive me for workin’ that old lady “game” as Nikki would say. Me and Him both laughed at me. It wasn’t no game, really, ‘cause I am old in age. We gotta have some kind of benefits.

  I felt a press to get busy prayin’ before this boy came over. I didn’t know what Eunice did wrong, but I knew she did something right by raisin’ him to give respect where it’s due. Really, if more parents did just that much, we’d solve half the problems in the schools and put ten thousand prison guards out of a job.

  Anyhow, I sent Frank a text and told him to pray for Eunice and her son. Of course, he called me back as soon as he got a break, wanting to know if there was anything he could do to help.

  “No. Just pray. They got something going on between them. He’s coming to see her tomorrow to try to talk some sense into her about that leg.”

  “Okay. Let’s agree now. Father, we come to You asking for intervention between Eunice and her son. God, you know the healing that needs to take place between them emotionally, and you know what physical healing Eunice needs. God, I thank you for B’s heart toward them. For the love that flows from You through her to people. Strengthen her as she continues to intercede. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.”

  “Amen,” I breathed again. Lord, that man sure could pray. I’m sure everybody on the Spirit-line got a jolt on that one. “Thank you.”

  “Everything will work out for His glory,” he decreed.

  Nothing else to say except, “It is so.”

  Me and the Lord talked for quite some time about the situation with Eunice and her son. I prayed that the Lord would mend Paul’s heart and soften the bad memories of his mother. I believe the Lord can move on a person’s heart even if they’re not a believer. He did it with Pharaoh, no reason why he couldn’t do it on Paul, especially since all souls belong to Him anyway.

  I prayed in the Spirit, too, because I didn’t know quite what else to pray. When I creaked up off my knees, I crawled into bed with a heart full of anticipation. So full, I had to get back out of bed and praise Him in advance for whatever He was about to do.

  Even though I couldn’t see it with my eyes, I knew the enemy had to be stompin’ around like—what’s that children’s book, Rumplestiltskin?—because his evil plan was null and void!

  Chapter 17

  Good thing Frank sent me a text Saturday night saying he’d pick me up at nine o’clock, ‘cause us going to church on his praising grounds had surely slipped my mind.

  I got up extra early so I could get Eunice squared away. She ate a bowl of my healthy cereal while I ran her bath water. While she was taking a bath, I put fresh sheets on her bed, and prepared another dose of Tylenol.

  Once she was full, clean, and somewhat drugged, I informed her of the day’s agenda. “Today’s a big day for us, Eunice.”

  “I know,” she fanned her hand. “I’ve worn out my stay. The shelter over at the Catholic church is open on Sundays. You can drop me off there.”

  “Actually, your son is coming to help you today,” I spoke in faith.

  Her eyebrows momentarily jumped with excitement. Then she sucked in her chin as sadness crept in. “Paul’s coming here?”

  “Yes, he is. He’s gonna help get you situated with this leg problem, and prayerfully everything else,” I implied.

  “Everything else like what?”

  Despite the stirring in my soul, I tried to keep my excitement at a level Eunice could digest. “We’ll just take it step by step.”

  “I don’t want to see him. He doesn’t want to see me, either,” she jabbered. “Won’t do any good.”

  “Can’t do no harm, either.”

  “Oh, yes it can. Sometimes you’ve got to leave well enough alone,” she preached.

  “Maybe I would leave it alone if you was well enough, but you ain’t,” I returned mildly. “Frank and I should be back from his church around one-thirty. I expect Paul around two-thirty. My son and his family are coming over, so it won’t be just me, you, and Paul sitting up looking at each other in the face. You’ll have plenty of folk around.”

  The lines in her forehead smoothed a bit. “Unh.”

  “I put the roast in the slow cooker at six this morning. You think you can hobble out of bed and turn it on low around noon?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” I patted her arm and rose to leave.

  “B,” she stopped me.

  I pivoted and turned to face her.

  “So I can have some idea of what’s normal…how often do you talk to your children?”

  “Son bugs me about something or another every couple of days. My oldest, Debra Kay, calls me once a week or so. She keeps me in the loop on all the other ones. My second girl, Cassandra—me and her don’t talk much. She not much of a talker to nobody, really. She sends cards and pictures of her family. My baby, Otha—me and him used to talk a lot more before Albert died. Him and Son a lot closer now, according to Debra Kay. I know Otha’s alive because he forwards email messages like they goin’ out of style. Sometimes I send him a reply and we get to talkin’ trough the internet. But when he comes over for the holidays, we can’t get him to shut up.”

  Eunice smiled. “It’s nice to have a family, huh?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “That’s good, B. You deserve better than me.”

  “I’m blessed. And so are you. You just don’t know it yet,” I professed over her life. With a wink, I dismissed myself from her presence.

  I rushed to get my own self ready for church. Just before Frank arrived, I called Ophelia and told her I wouldn’t be at service today. Didn’t want my church family worryin’ about me, you know.

  “Oh, Ophelia,” I remembered, “put on something extra cute today, hear?”

  “For what? You bringin’ one of Dr. Wilson’s colleagues to church or somethin’?” she laughed.

  Took everything in me not to give away Pastor’s little secret. “Can’t you just follow directions sometime, no questions asked?”

  “I got to watch you, B. A woman in love is liable to do anything. Never know what to expect.”

  “Don’t worry about what’s goin’ on in my life. God’s got something for you, too.” Lord, help me. I almost gave it away. “I gotta go. Bye.”

  No sooner than I rushed off the phone with Ophelia, Son come calling me. “Momma, you cookin’ today?”

  Look whose child done forgot their manners. “Hello, Son, it’s nice to hear your voice, too.”

  “Oh. Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you very much. And yes, I’m cookin’. I made plenty. You all comin’ over?”

  “Yes. Me and Wanda.”

  So much for cookin’ to last me all week. I certainly wanted to see my son, but there’s something about the grands that lifts a grandmother’s spirits. “What about Nikki and Cameron?”

  “I haven’t talked to them in a few days.”

  “Awww,” I sulked, “I wanted to pinch those chubby cheeks. Guess I’ll have to settle for yours instead.”

  “My cheeks are not chubby, Momma.”

  “Hmph. Looked pretty plump the last ti
me I saw ‘em.” That was my roundabout way of tellin’ him he needed to watch out. With a daddy who had diabetes and circulation problems, you’d think Son would take better care of himself. Then I remembered who his Daddy was. Stubborn as any man with an ego—and believe you me, they all got one.

  My doorbell rang. “I’ll see you later.”

  “What was that? Is somebody there?” Son fussed.

  “Yes. It’s Frank. I’m going to church with him today.”

  “Wh…wh…what’s the address of the church?” he stammered.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

  “Momma,” he lectured, “you can’t go running out with strange men and not telling anybody where you are!”

  “Son, you’ve already met Frank.”

  “Yeah, he seems alright,” he had to agree. “But what if you go missing?”

  “I ain’t gon’ be missin’. Wherever I am, I’ll be in God’s care. You got to trust me and the God in me. I like Frank. I like him a lot. Matter of fact, I kissed him.”

  “You what?!”

  “Yep. On the lips.”

  Son gasped for air. “Oh my God. That’s way too much information.”

  “And stop usin’ the Lord’s name in vain.”

  The doorbell rang again. “See you. Bye.”

  Tell you one thing, the Father sure knows how to change a person’s perspective. I couldn’t hardly even look at Frank without wanting to get close enough to smell his aftershave. Even when he wasn’t fresh from the morning, there’s something about a man’s presence that can’t nobody duplicate. In the eight years since Albert died, I’d forgotten how a real man changes the atmosphere.

  “Shall we?” Frank held out his hand as we walked toward the front entrance of his church.

  Without a word, I allowed him to hold mine the rest of the way.

  The building had traditional red brick with stained glass windows and a white steeple. But from the looks of the people filing into the sanctuary, I could tell this wasn’t no traditional church. Frank went to one of them 500-member come-as-you-are churches, where folk wear whatever they want. Women in pants, men in jeans, kids might as well be in their play clothes. I should have known Frank would be a member of such a church.

  Lord, keep me from lookin’ at what folks got on.

  Everybody at New Direction called Frank “Doc” and they all seemed to be messin’ with him the same way my church members did me. They gave him private smiles, happy to see him with somebody, I guessed. Most of them seemed pleasantly surprised to see him with me, but it seemed a few of them had already heard about me. “So good to finally meet you,” one of the greeters said as she pointed us closer to the right front section of pews.

  Frank been tellin’ people about me?

  The service began with praise and worship. The praise team, dressed in blue and gold robes, sang a bunch of songs I’d never heard of. Thankfully for me, the words popped up on two big screens on either side of the stage. I sure hoped Frank wasn’t judging me by whether or not I knew them songs because I would have got an F!

  The children’s dance team performed a routine in the cutest white and hot pink outfits. The littlest one, in the very front, didn’t know the moves quite as well as the older ones. Me and Frank elbowed each other as we adored that sweet girl doing her best to praise the Lord in dance. Cute as a bug in a rug!

  I stood when the visitors were asked to stand and be recognized. An usher passed me a postcard with information about the church while the announcer gave the usual welcome, followed by a ton of hugs from the church members while the choir sang. If nothing else, Frank’s church members were sure friendly.

  After another number from the choir and the offering, Frank’s pastor took the podium, adjusting the microphone to accommodate his short stature. “Good morning, saints of The Most High. Turn with me to Colossians chapter three.”

  All over the building, folks started taking out their Bibles. Frank pulled out a two-ton Bible from his Bible bag. Now, of course, his Bible case was big, but I figured he had a pad of paper, some pens, and maybe a few church programs in the brown leather carrier.

  Lord Jesus, is he part-blind?

  Frank set it on his right knee, which was right next to my left. Then he opened it, letting one side rest on me. As he flipped through, I noticed he done been writing a book in The Book—notes, dates, names. So much highlighting, his Bible could have been mistaken for a coloring book. He got all kind of tape throughout, too, holding it together. Made my Bible look like I just got saved last week!

  Now, I know better than to judge somebody by their Bible. Ophelia don’t believe in writing in hers. She write all her notes on separate paper. But I know good and well your Bible don’t get that to’ up and worn out without some of the Word getting into you.

  I suddenly wished Frank would give me his Bible so I could go through and read all his notes, but I guess that might be like asking somebody to read their diary.

  Already, I started envisioning me and Frank sitting up to the wee hours of the night talking, pouring over the word. Praying. Sharing. Maybe even passionate debating. I could spend hour upon hour in the word.

  Now, I don’t want y’all to think I’m being nasty. I’m gon’ lay it out like this for you, though: Can’t nothin’ light my fire like a man who loves the word of the Lord.

  Frank’s pastor preached on what it means to be dead to the flesh and alive in Christ. He refreshed my soul with his thoughts about life in the Spirit. “Your walk with God shouldn’t be a burden. If it is, you need to lay yourself at Christ’s feet. Exchange your cross for His. He said in Matthew eleven and thirty that His yoke is easy. His burden is light.”

  Frank leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “Wish somebody had told me this forty years ago.”

  “Me, too.” Being raised partly in the holiness church, I thought my salvation was all up to me. I didn’t know the Lord was such a good keeper until I came to the end of myself. That’s a whole nother story. Suffice it to say, sinking into your holiness is a whole lot easier than fighting the flesh every moment.

  Frank’s pastor left us with some questions and verses to look up throughout the week as we continued in our personal Bible study. I liked that. Seem like he was going to leave the rest of the teaching up to the Holy Spirit. He the best teacher we got, anyhow.

  I asked Frank to take me to the store so I could get some soda pop to go with dinner. With Son coming over, we’d need more than tea.

  Frank waited for me to whip in and out, then we were on our way back to my house. “You eatin’ with us, right?”

  He angled his head away from me and winced. “I…I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  He shook his head, his cheeks pinched. “It’s Eunice. I’m…uncomfortable around her because—”

  “I know, Frank,” I rescued him from the saddle of speaking ill of Eunice. “I heard what she said to you the other night. She’s got a bad habit of sabotagin’ relationships with people. I done decided to forgive her and treat her right, regardless.”

  Frank’s features returned to normal. “Okay. As long as we both know what’s going on, I’m fine.”

  Lord, thank You for solving that awkward moment. We need your help with all the other ones on the way today.

  Chapter 18

  “Eunice, we’re home!”

  Frank detoured to the kitchen to put the sodas in the icebox. I called again, “Eunice!”

  No answer. I rapped on the door. “Eunice?”

  Still no answer. Slowly, I turned the knob and found the bed empty. Made, but empty. Good Lord! She done run off again!

  I dashed back to the kitchen. “Frank, she’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “I don’t know.” I checked the dial on the crock pot. It was set to “low,” as she’d agreed. I took a fork from the drawer and stuck it in the roast. The meat separated precisely the way it should have after cooling down for a while. “She ain
’t been gone long.”

  Ring! I rushed to answer my phone. “Hello?”

  “B, it’s me,” Libby’s voice came through. “I got a call from Eunice soon as we let out of church. She asked me to pick her up from your house. Said she don’t want to see her son.”

  “Nonsense. I saw the way her eyes lit up when I told her Paul was coming.”

  “Well, me and Peter went and got her. She demanded we take her to the Catholic shelter, so we dropped her off there. I tried to stall, asked her to eat with us. She wouldn’t wait. Said if we didn’t take her right then, she’d walk there herself.”

  “I see. Don’t worry. You did the right thing, Libby. We’ll get her back.”

  “Let me know what you need me to do,” she offered.

  “God’s workin’ it out. I’ll talk to you later.”

  All Frank could do was watch me work ‘cause I didn’t have time to explain it to him. Quickly, I opened my call log and dialed Paul. “Paul, this Mrs. Jackson. Just checkin’ to make sure you on your way.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be exiting off the main highway in a few minutes.”

  Seem like I could breathe again now that I knew he was underway. “Okay. We’ll be waiting on you.”

  If Eunice hadn’t acted so you-know-what with Frank, I would have sent him over to the shelter to get her. I couldn’t very well go myself, with Son and his family on their way over – not to mention I needed to finish the rolls.

  We needed a Plan C. “Frank, when Paul gets here, I’d like for you and him to go over to the Catholic church on Main, get Eunice, and bring her back here.”

  He crossed his arms and poked out his lips. “We’ll do our best.”

  “Between you, Paul, and the Lord, I’m sure y’all can handle it.”

  Son and Wanda brought an iced lemon cake. Store-bought, mind you, but it was a nice gesture. “Set it over on the table,” I instructed my daughter-in-law after greeting both her and my son with kisses and hugs.