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Authors: Michelle Stimpson

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BOOK: Mama B: A Time to Speak
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Chapter 5

 

Soon as I got off the phone catching up with Debra Kay – she the only child I really need to talk to if I want to know what’s going on with all my kids – I heard Libby Maxwell’s car pulling up in the driveway. Got myself up from the table and joined her outside.

One thing about Libby: she was always on time or early. Made sense, though. She didn’t have CP time, seeing as she wasn’t colored. She went by whatever it say on the clock.

That was one of the first things I didn’t like about Libby. And she said she didn’t like how I come draggin’ into the weight loss meeting right at the stroke of ten, but she overlooked me and I overlooked her. We ended up making friends with each other while we was shrinkin’ down to a healthy size.

That was over twenty years ago. We’d been walking Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings ever since, weather permittin’.

Libby wore a pink jogging suit and white tennis shoes. We almost matched except my shirt had a little blue on the sleeves.

“Hey, Libby.”

“Mornin’, B.”

She motioned toward Nikki’s green Chevy truck. “Look like you got company.”

“My granddaughter and her son.”

“Nikki? The one we prayed about last week?”

“In the flesh,” I laughed.

She took off walking, swinging her arms, I joined right in step.

“How long she stayin’?”

“Can’t rightly say. We haven’t had the talk yet. Right now I’m trying to see where she is in her head. Said she’s coming from a bad situation.”

Felt my heart rate increasing and I stretched my stride a little wider. Libby got us up to doing a mile in twenty minutes. We walk from my house to hers and back, or vice versa when I drive over to her house every other time. Two miles altogether.

“Well, at least you finally get to see her. You talked to Son?”

“Not yet. He might not be too happy about her being here. You know he thinks everybody always out to take advantage of me.”

“Guess we better pray the Lord work on his heart next.”

She asked about Geneva Phillips.

“They still got her up in that fancy cancer place in Oklahoma. Rev. Martin don’t know much.”

“Well, sometimes no news is good news.”

We got to talking about Libby’s family, too. Her baby girl, Macie, just finished her Master’s degree in nursing. Jeremiah, her grandson, hurt his leg real bad playing soccer. Said they’d probably have to put a pin through his bone.

“Bad thing is, he’s only thirteen. Need the Lord to heal him in a way that won’t stop him from growing right,” she said.

“Amen and amen.”

By the time we got to the middle of our walk, we were both a-huffin’ and a-puffin’. We made a pit stop for a drink of water at Libby’s house. Her husband, Peter, come in with the Dallas Morning News in one hand, a cane in the other.

“Morning, B.”

“Right back atcha, Peter. Any good news in the paper?”

He hugged me and shook his head. “Now, B, you know better than that. Way better than that.”

Libby grabbed the paper from him. She didn’t like to see him without a free hand since he took a fall the year previous. Libby always did her best to make sure Peter got everything he need. Always making a fuss over him, and he let her. That’s how it was with me and Albert, too.

“How are things at the Mt. Zion?”

I didn’t want to advertise the enemy’s work, but since Peter asked, I told him the truth—starting with the good news first. “Well, we got an insurance policy, so everything’s gonna be fine. But somebody stole the copper out the air conditioning system.”

He straightened up a bit. “Don’t say?”

“Sure did. They gon’ fix it in a little while, though. We just got to figure out a way to have our meetings and whatnot ‘til they get it together.”

“B, you know the doors of First Baptist always open if y’all need the building for somethin’,” he offered kindly. Nice to have a friend whose husband is a pastor.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by Peter’s suggestion. That’s one thing about Peter and Libby: they would give away the last cup of milk in their icebox to help somebody.

“Well, Peter, we may have to take you up on that offer if they don’t get it fixed soon.”

“Y’all welcome to join us in service or hold your own service soon as we get out. You give Libby the word, the church is open. Full way open”

“Thank you, Peter. Sure do appreciate the offer.”

He waved his hand and shuffled on over to the fruit basket. “Ain’t no problem, B. No problem at all.”

Libby took my empty glass, rinsed it in the sink, and put it in the dishwasher alongside hers. “Shame all this crime moving into Peasner.”

Peter commented, “That’s the price of progress, Libby. Price of progress.”

Me and Libby got back to our exercise, heading to my house. Sun a little higher in the sky by then. “We better start a lil’ earlier Wednesday.” I suggested.

“Yeah. Summertime setting in on us.”

Kathy Woodridge come outside and waved at us. “I’m gon’ join y’all one of these days.”

“Kathy, you been sayin’ that for years,” Libby laughed, waving back.

“I don’t know. But I sure wish the mailman give y’all my mail ‘cause y’all more regular than he is.”

Libby put her hand on my shoulder and we like ta almost lost our pace laughing with Kathy.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

By Wednesday morning , it was clear I had to get my words together so I could have the talk with Nikki. Get to the bottom of why she was in Peasner and why she wasn’t goin’ to work every day. I thought maybe her and Cameron needed a place to stay while she saved up enough money to put down on a new apartment. But the way she was goin, I didn’t see no move-out in sight.

Well, let me tell the whole truth. I was getting antsy. Cameron was good for bending down and even lifting up couches so I could vacuum, but he was an eating machine. When he wasn’t chomping down on a sandwich, he was playing shooting-type video games. Maybe that’s what I really didn’t like. My kids used to play outside with each other and with their friends until the lights came on. Had to call ‘em inside. Wasn’t any kids on our street for Cameron to play with just yet. They probably wouldn’t be there until later in the summer when their parents needed a break. But I couldn’t take him setting his rump in that chair between every meal. It ain’t natural for a child to sit up in front of a screen all day, I don’t care what nobody say.

 I had to start finding other ways to put him to work.

Nikki was another one with a blue glow on her face all the time. On her cell phone texting all day.

Now, I liked technology – had me an email box, myself, on my iPhone. Check it every now and then. I even know how to do those text messages. But you can’t keep you face in front of those doo-dads all the time. Mark my words – it’s gon’ be just like cigarettes and lead paint. Fifty years after they done got everybody exposed to it, they gon’ come out with a study sayin’ all these computers and phones is bad for your health – messin’ up folks’ eyes, throwin’ off the babies’ attention span. Hmph. I ain’t gon’ wait for the government to tell me what common sense already have.

Anyhow, I had to have a meeting with Nikki ‘bout her plans, once she finally got up. “Morning Nikki-Nik. What you up to today?”

“Nothing much.”

“Well, I was wondering about that. You on vacation?”

She opened both sides of my icebox—refrigerator and freezer—and stood there searching. Look like about five dollars worth of energy come flying out in all the frost.
Lord, I don’t even want to see my light bill at the end of the month.

“I guess you could say I’m on vacation.”

“You laid off? Between jobs? Fired?”

She sighed, slumped her shoulders. “Fired.”

“What happened?”

With her backside still to me, she explained, “I broke up with my boyfriend, J.T., and was promptly fired from my job as a receptionist at the transmission shop he and his cousin own.”

“Hmph. Businesses and beaus don’t mix. Happen every time.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s probably a good thing I left there anyway. I think they’re laundering money.”

She tucked the carton of orange juice under her arm, grabbed the jug of milk, and pulled down a box of cereal from the top of the refrigerator. “What kind of cereal is this?”

“All natural. Rolled oats, nuts, dried fruits.”

“Do you have
anything
unhealthy to eat first thing in the morning?”

I pushed my morning study materials aside. “I try not to. But if you must, I got some Bisquick in the pantry. Syrup. You can make yourself some pancakes.”

“Cameron already ate?”

“Yes. I sent him outside to pull up any weeds he could find. Told him I’d give him a few dollars.”

Nikki shook her head. “I’m sure he ran outside when you told him he could earn some money.”

I chuckled. “He sure did.” I stood up and looked out the back window with Nikki. Cameron had collected a small pile of weeds, but he must have abandoned that effort for a pretend swordfight. He was jumping, kicking, swinging a tree branch. Now that’s what I like to see. Kids breathing fresh air and using their imagination.

“He’s a good boy, Nikki. You’re doing a good job.”

“Thank you.”

“Where’s his daddy these days?”

Nikki stepped away from the window. Got all busy with her cereal again. “Cameron’s father is locked up. He’s got a pretty long sentence.”

Lord, bless his mother’s heart.
“Hmm. What for?”

“Trying to make quick money.”

I wondered if he was the drug-sellin’ type or the copper-stealin’ kind. “You think he’ll be a decent influence on Cameron when he gets out? Sometimes a man makes a bad choice in a bad circumstance. Don’t necessarily mean he’ll do it again.”

“I appreciate you trying to see the bright side of things, but nobody in Cameron’s family is a good influence. They’re all a bunch of ghetto-fabulous losers.” She gathered her cup and bowl, scooted my Bible and pens over a little, and took a seat at the table. “Cameron’s only got me.”

Hmph. She talked about Cameron’s daddy like he’s the only one in the wrong. I mean, sometimes you got to wonder who’s got the biggest problem: the fool or the one who fell for him?

“No sense in talking about him so bad. You know anybody else who can help Cameron learn how to be a man?”

She shook her head.

I sat across from her. “Think you ought to give your daddy a call?”

She stuffed her mouth with a spoonful of cereal. All of a sudden, her face get all bunched up. She took a big swallow. “Mama B, this cereal tastes like pieces of cardboard.”

“Just ‘cause it ain’t smothered in sugar don’t mean it’s nasty. Give yourself a few days to re-train your taste buds, it’ll be all right after while.”

She shook her head and took another scoop. Must have been hungry because she kept on eating.

“So, what you think about calling Son?”

“Mama B, my daddy’s wasn’t there for me. What makes you think he’s gonna be there for my son?”

I breathed hard, trying to think about how to have this talk with Nikki without bringing up all the past. Lord knows my son and her mother started this whole bunch of mess. Shoot, makes me wonder where Albert and I went wrong with him.

BOOK: Mama B: A Time to Speak
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