Mama B - A Time to Dance (Book 2) (12 page)

“Fourteen
hundred!” I exclaimed, which caused Henrietta to stir.

“Cut down all
that racket!” she fussed. Almost instantly, she dropped her head back in slumber.

I whispered,
“She’s not lucky, she’s a miracle!”

The nurse
nodded, then left the room.

I tiptoed over
to Libby to make sure she’d heard what I heard. “Sister, do you realize how
high her sugar was?”

Libby shook her
head. “Not really, but I’m sure it ain’t supposed to be that high.”

I smacked my
lips. “Let me put it to you like this. I know from dealing with Albert, if your
sugar is three hundred, you supposed to call the doctor. If it gets up to five
hundred, you supposed to call 9-1-1.  I imagine at fourteen hundred, you
supposed to be near-bout dead!”

“Praise God,”
Libby squealed.

Me and Libby
locked elbows and did our holy dance together. She and I been doin’ the dance
since we started going to the weight control class. Whenever they would announce
how many pounds me and her lost, we’d dance before God. And every since then,
we praise Him like that when He comes through for us. Long as we’ve been
friends, and as good as He is, we done had plenty to dance about.

Frank dropped by between patients later
on and told me, Ophelia, and Libby it would probably be a few more days before
Henrietta could go home. Just depended on how she bounced back. And even then,
she might need dialysis after all the trauma to her kidneys—we just had
to wait and see.

Of course, me
and Ophelia knew there was a possibility Henrietta might not have no place to
come home to. I left the hospital with Ophelia so she and I could drop by the
studio to get the flyer, then to the place that might be able to help Henrietta
keep her house.

We filled out
some forms to the best of our ability, but seeing as neither Henrietta nor
anyone from her family was with us, we didn’t get very far. “I’ll be back
tomorrow with her daughter,” Ophelia promised.

The young man
who attended to us seemed very hopeful about the possibility of intervening
with the county tax assessor. Once we got back in the car, me and Ophelia
blessed God in advance for the organization and for stepping in to make the
best of a bad situation. We just didn’t believe He would save Henrietta’s life
to put her out on the streets.

No sooner than
we finished praying, Ophelia started in on me about Frank. “He sure sweet on
you.”

“Same thing
Libby said.”

“Libby’s right,”
she echoed. “And I can tell you took a likin’ to him, too.”

Shoot, I
might as well stop foolin’ myself
. 
“He’s okay.”

She smirked.
“Mmm hmmm.
Okay
, huh?”

“Please,
Ophelia, don’t you start in on me, too. Libby been pesterin’ me enough about
him.”

“Well, you know
you like him. One thing about getting’ older, you done got so used to sayin’
what you think, makes it harder to keep your feelin’s off your face.”

I squirmed for a
bit in my seatbelt. “So what if I do like Frank.”

“And it’s
obvious he likes you. What you waitin’ on?”

My mouth formed
a big letter O, and I nearly sprained my neck from turning it in her direction
so quickly. “What y’all expect me to do? Jump on him? We’ve only been out
together twice, goodness gracious!”

“I ain’t said
you got to hop on the man, but you might as well be honest about it. You ain’t
got time to be playin’ hard-to-get. Keep on seeing him. Hold hands, cuddle up,
fall in love again. Be open to where God is taking you two. I know if God send
a man into my life, I’ll take him. Snatch him right up.” She clenched her right
fist in the air as though trying to catch something.

I shifted my
weight in the passenger’s seat and looked all upside Ophelia’s head. “You must
done forgot what it was like to have a man. Always got to put somebody else’s
needs before your own, take into consideration what they like and don’t like.
And if you get married, listenin’ to them complain and fuss, and take over the
TV remote control, got the air conditioner set all wrong. Chile, I don’t miss
those things.”

“Oh, B. Was
Albert really that bad?”

I laughed, “Yes,
he was. And if I remember correctly, so was your Walter! Every bit and then
some.”

“Yeah, you
right,” she couldn’t help but agree in her own fit of laughter. She took a
cleansing breath, “But I tell you what, me and Walter had some good times, too.
Some real good times. So did you and Albert.”

A smiled touched
my face. “Yes, we did.”

“All I’m saying
is, if the Lord wants to give you some more good times and a few bad ones with
Dr. Wilson, that’s mighty fine,” she resolved. “Mighty fine.”

Whatever the
Lord was doing between Derrick and Twyla, He sure was taking His sweet, perfect
time. They had three more arguments by phone, to my knowledge. I overheard
Derrick talking to his attorney on the phone, telling him he hadn’t even
managed to convince Twyla to come to the courthouse, let alone sit on his side
of the courtroom and then take the stand.

I suppose in his
frustration and growing restlessness, Derrick found the need to keep himself
busy—within the confines of my property, of course. He pruned my trees
with the neighbor’s saw. Cleared out the leaves from the gutter. Whatever loose
board or slow drain he found, he’d rush to the home improvement store so he
could get the supplies and be back a my house before sundown so he could fix
it.

I was not
complaining. He didn’t have long until he had to appear in court. If this was his
last contribution to society for a while, I would gladly serve as the
beneficiary.

With my
permission, Frank picked me up from my house for our Friday dance night. Again,
we sprightly endured the test of the tempo. This time, I wore sequin slippers
with a fancy puffed out skirt that swayed when I shimmied. I must say, Frank
adored me with his eyes all evening long. And I let myself be adored. My cheeks
hurt from smiling so much. If Frank had somebody else he’d brought to the dance
before, he sure wasn’t thinking about her that night.

Afterward, we
decided to enjoy what would probably be one of the last pleasant nights outside
before winter set in. We took a stroll down the dock of a seafood restaurant on
a little lake just outside Peasner.

“Beautiful
night,” he observed.

“Indeed.”

Our hands
brushed slightly. Frank shoved his into his pockets.

I hid my grin,
inwardly blushing. “I’m not gonna bite you, Frank.”

“B, I’m just
respecting your rules. I thoroughly enjoy your company and I don’t want to do
anything to make you feel uncomfortable. Even though we have already been
hip-to-hip in dance class, you know.”

I held up an
index finger. “For the sake of art.”

“Why don’t you
just admit it. You love salsa. I couldn’t get you to stop now if I wanted to.”

“Well,” I
ventured, “I suppose I would be a little upset if I had to wait my turn to come
dancing with you.”

“Your turn?”

“Yeah. The other
week, somebody did say you bring in other women to dance.”

Frank jerked his
head back and stared at me with his warm brown eyes. “Is that a hint of
jealousy I hear?”

“I’m just
wonderin’ so I can find out if I need to find
me
someone else to bring
every once in a while,” I headed him off.

“Look out there
now,” he laughed. “No, my daughter comes to dance with me sometimes. Or my
sister, when she’s in town. She travels a lot. Works for American Airlines.
They’re headquartered in Dallas.”

“I see.”

“But I have to
say, neither one of them can dance quite like you.”

“Why, thank you,
Frank,” I batted my eyelashes at him.

We both laughed
at my silly gesture. Frank motioned for us to take a seat on the restaurant
patio.

I know I
shouldn’t have been thinking this, but sitting across from him in the dimness,
with his head shaved bald like so many of the young folk do today, he looked
like he could have been my son.
Way too young for me to be out with.
 
Until—wait! There it was! The moon’s glow told the truth. Frank was
wearing dentures after all; it was just a matter of me catching him in the
right light.

Thank you,
Lord, for a reminder.

When the
waiter-lady came by and asked if we wanted to order food, I said no. Frank, on
the other hand, ordered a glass of red wine.

Now, y’all know
that rubbed me the wrong way. Much as I liked Frank, I ain’t never been out
with no drinkin’ man. He’d just done ruined a perfectly good night. “You gon’
drink all that?”

“Mmmm,” he
gulped, “did you want some?”

“No siree,” I
declined. “ I don’t drink.”

He rolled his
lips between his teeth and smiled. “My wife didn’t, either. She couldn’t stand
it when I ordered a glass of wine or a margarita.”

“Well, I feel
the same way,” I said. “I don’t see how folk can drink something that makes you
lose all your sense.”

“Yes,” he
agreed. “Alcohol can be destructive. Damaging. And the Bible does say not to be
drunk. But it didn’t say you couldn’t drink.”

“What’s the
difference? One thing leads to another.”

He shrugged.
“What’s the difference between eating and gluttony? What’s the difference
between earning money and greed?”

I pulled my
elbows into my sides and pretended to take in the night sky and the lovers
close enough to the lake’s shore to dip their toes in the gleaming water.

“What happened
with your wife?”

“She had Lupus.
Battled it courageously for years. She was so strong in her faith. And tough. I
really thought if anyone could kick the disease, it would be Margie.”

I recognized the
blankness of his downward gaze. I’d seen it myself many-a-day when I sat up and
thought about what all Albert went through. It’s enough to drive you crazy if
you don’t let it play all the way through to what must have happened the moment
they opened their eyes on the other side.

I put my hands
on top of his. “Frank, she
did
kick it. And I believe when you see her
in glory, she’s gonna tell you all about it.”

He squeezed. I
squeezed back. I recognized then that, at some level, I already knew Frank. He
knew what it was like to lose the love of your life. Slowly. To watch the life
ebb out of them and find yourself completely helpless in their weakest hours.
To catch that last glimpse of them before the funeral directors close the
casket and wish you could somehow have back all the moments you wasted arguing,
slamming doors, giving each other the silent treatment.

Frank knew, like
me, that every day is precious. Sad but true thing is: you have to lose someone
you love to really, really know that lesson deep down in your heart.

I made up my
mind right then and there, I wasn’t going to waste any more time getting to
know Frank and appreciating him for the good person he was, even if he did
order a glass of wine and watch cussin’ action movies from time to time. Nobody
said I had to marry the man. So long as he loved the Lord, I knew God would use
us to sharpen one another.

I just had to
learn to open my heart and take the friendship day by precious day. This, in
itself, was a lesson already.

Either Henrietta
was well enough to be released on Tuesday or they’d figured out her Medicaid
wouldn’t cover much more because there we were, loading her into Ophelia’s van
instead of convening at the regularly scheduled Mother’s Board meeting.
Henrietta’s daughter, Lanetta, had already taken off two days of work to tend
to her mother. I know she hated she couldn’t be there to bring Henrietta home,
but since she on a hourly job, she didn’t have much choice. She don’t work, her
kids don’t eat. We certainly understood that.

I guess what we
hadn’t understood, in all the coordinatin’ with Rev. Martin and Lanetta and the
nurses, was that Henrietta would be going home in a wheelchair. They explained
that when Henrietta passed out, she must have fallen awkwardly. It wasn’t until
she came to and tried to walk, they learned she had what they called a hairline
fracture in her right foot.

“She’s too weak
right now to put all her weight on one leg. For the next couple of weeks, a
wheelchair is her best bet,” the doctor had told us.

Ophelia fussed,
“I wish somebody would have said something earlier. Henrietta got about fifty
steps leading up to her doorway!”

Well, Ophelia
was exaggerating, but really it didn’t matter. Might as well have been fifty
steps, because we wouldn’t be able to get her up
one
stair—not
even with Rev. Martin’s help. Henrietta ain’t no small woman.

Right away, I
called Derrick. I had done seen that boy fix just about anything. He the only
one I knew who could probably make a ramp real quick-like.