It's Not All Downhill From Here

by Terry McMillan

  “If there’s something to tell, tell it!” I said.

  We all slid our glasses down to the bridges of our noses in an attempt to see Korynthia over them. I wondered when we all started wearing them. All of our glasses were ugly and it was obvious none of us put much thought into the styles we’d picked. We really looked like old ladies. I made a note to buy two new pairs with colorful frames.

  “Okay. I was driving by her church and like I said, I saw Sadie in the parking lot. She was with a woman. A white woman with short silver hair, who kissed her on the lips.”

  “What kind of kiss?” Lucky asked.

  “What difference does it make?” I asked.

  “Did she see you?” Lucky asked, hoping she had.

  “Maybe?”

  “This is not news. To be honest, we’ve always thought this about Sadie and none of us has ever really cared except you, Lucky,” I said. “If it’s true, and she’s happy, then I’m happy for her.”

  “Me, too,” Korynthia said. “The woman was cute.”

  “Don’t make me throw up,” Lucky said.

  “You need to get a grip, Lucky, and stop being so damn judgmental,” I said. “Everybody should be whoever they are and there’s no shame in it, so shut the hell up!”

  “I agree,” Korynthia said. “But Sadie doesn’t strike me as being cool enough to be a lesbian. She’s just so lackluster.”

  We all just nodded in agreement.

  “So, what are we having tonight?” I asked even though I could smell the cheese on top of the tomato sauce. “I can’t stay late.”

  “Why not?” Korynthia asked. “Are you finally going to reopen the shop?”

  “I’ve been mulling everything over, Ko. Believe me, I’ll let you know as soon as I decide what I’m doing.”

  “Well, hurry up. I need something to do all day because I’m not selling any mansions and I’m also tired of driving back and forth to San Diego to babysit my great-grandkids, or doing it when they drop the little suckers off here.”

  “Hold on!” I said. “We’re supposed to wait until after we have a drink and the food is on the table and Poochie is on the line before we start spilling our guts.”

  “Then where’s the beef?” Lucky asked, thinking we’d laugh, but neither of us did.

  “I made lasagna and a salad and as you can see, French bread and steamed asparagus.”

  We all looked at one another with a smile of relief and poured ourselves glasses of red wine. Korynthia then set her cellphone in the middle of the table and punched in Poochie’s cell number. Her big brown face popped on the screen. The only other time I do this FaceTime is with Jackson, and even then Cinnamon usually has to help me.

  “Hi, everybody,” Poochie said. She looked older than all of us and she was wearing a curly black wig, clearly a cheap one and she should know better. Even though we’re all friends, I thought she could’ve put on some kind of powder and any kind of lip gloss just to look more presentable. I suppose she didn’t feel like she needed to impress us. “I miss y’all.” And we knew she meant it.

  Just then, the door opened and in walked Sadie, dressed in yet another ugly church dress. This one was a sad shade of gray I wouldn’t be caught dead in. And if I were a lesbian I would not be attracted to her.

  “We miss you, too, girl,” Sadie said for everybody. “I’m sorry I’m late. Choir practice went on a little longer than I expected, and we had to get the church ready for a funeral service tomorrow morning but I’m here now. Hey, Poochie!”

  “Hey, Church Lady. I hope you’ve been praying for my mama.”

  “Chile, my prayer list is long and Mama Kay is on it.”

  “How is your mama doing, Poochie?” Korynthia asked for all of us.

  “Not good, but I’m making sure she stays comfortable. So, how is everybody there? Wait! Before we get started on the usual, I want to say something to Lo. Lo?”

  I almost jumped out of my chair wondering why she was singling me out.

  “Yes, Poochie?”

  “How are you?”

  “Fair to middling.”

  “Look, I know you’re probably still grieving hard and I just have to say it took me almost a year to get used to my sweet Donald being gone. I just want you to know that you can only do what you can do.”

  Everyone nodded around me, but Sadie said, “We all agree.”

  “Anyway, you’ve been through a lot these past months and I wanted to say that I think we’re all overdue for some fun so I propose it’s time all of you got on the casino bus and came on up here to Vegas. I could use some company and we can gamble and go to an outlet and maybe see a show. Sadie, we already know you’re afraid of sinning, but don’t veto the plan, just stay home.”

  “I’ll go,” she said without hesitating.

  Everybody’s mouths dropped open.

  “I don’t have to gamble. I can’t stand the cigarette smoke, but I’ll sit in front of the water show. Plus, I like to people watch.”

  “Promise us you won’t preach on the bus,” Lucky said.

  “I promise.”

  “I wouldn’t have any objections to seeing O again,” Korynthia said.

  “Is Celine Dion still at Caesars?” Sadie asked.

  We all just looked at her.

  “I don’t like her,” Lucky said.

  “Just because she’s white,” Korynthia said.

  “What a stupid thing to say. My husband’s white, although I guess I don’t like him anymore, but being white has nothing to do with it.”

  All of us just looked at one another.

  “Well, I’ve always liked her,” I said. “I don’t care what color she is.”

  “I don’t like her voice. And she’s homely and too skinny.”

  “Get over it, Lucky,” Poochie said.

  “I like her,” Sadie said. “I’d go see her.”

  We all looked at Poochie on the screen and then at one another again and nodded. Sadie gave me a high five and I gave one to Korynthia.

  “Seems that’s a yes from everybody,” Lucky said.

  “Okay,” Korynthia said. “Now shut up, Poochie, so we can eat and then do our roundtable catch-up because I have to throw you out by ten. My granddaughter needs me in San Diego in the morning to watch her kids for four days. Again. Pray for me. Three under the age of seven.”

  “Wait a minute,” Poochie said. “How many great-grandkids do you have now?”

  “Eight. Maybe nine. Who the hell can keep up?”

  “We’ll call you back when we finish eating and before we have a few nightcaps,” Korynthia said.

  “I’ll go check on Mama, but my phone is plugged in so just let the FaceTime run and don’t worry about my battery.”

  She disappeared.

  And we ate. The lasagna was delicious, and Lucky and I almost fought over the last piece of bread. I let her win because I thought I saw Dr. Alexopolous’s face looking up at me from the basket and then I heard myself say: “I am not having dessert tonight.”

  “Since when?” Lucky just had to ask.

  “Since right now.”

  “Good for you,” Poochie said, scaring the hell out of all of us because we didn’t realize she had picked us back up.

  “Can I please start the roundtable?” she said. “I have to give Mama a bath tonight and my back is killing me.”

  We all looked at one another.

  “I just had my colonoscopy.”

  All of us just slapped our foreheads with our palms and pushed the remaining dishes away.

  “Anyway, I’ve got some polyps. Let me ask you all, how long has it been since you had your colonoscopies? And please don’t let me hear anybody say never.”

  “Poochie, c’mon. This is the worst shit, no pun intended. I mean, just bad timing to bring this
mess up knowing we’re all sitting here at the damn dinner table. But anyway, I had one five years ago so I’m good for another five,” Korynthia said.

  “I had mine last year so I have nine more to go,” I said.

  “I’ve been putting it off. Please don’t lecture me. I’ll schedule one tomorrow,” Lucky said.

  “That’s really stupid, Lucky,” Sadie said. “I have one every two years because my father had colon cancer. So far, I’m good. If I have a polyp, they take it out. Anyone want more wine?”

  Everybody held up their glasses.

  “Wait! I forgot! Get your bone density, and have your eyes and hearing checked and…”

  “Would you repeat that?” Lucky asked. “I didn’t hear you!”

  I moved my fingers in the air like I was signing.

  We all laughed.

  “And get a complete physical every damn year. It’s important.”

  We laughed again.

  “Come on, you guys. This is not funny. We’re all pushing seventy and this is when all of our shit starts falling apart. What about mammograms?”

  Everybody raised their hands.

  “Glucose levels?” Poochie asked.

  Everybody looked at me.

  “Diabetes is no joke, Lo. Have you been checking your numbers?”

  “I’ve been on her about this for the past three or four years. But everybody thinks I just like to preach,” Sadie said.

  “You do,” Lucky said.

  “Yes, I check my numbers,” I said as seriously as I could, even though I was lying. I was too embarrassed to tell the truth.

  “Well, I just take the medication because I can’t exercise because of my sciatic nerve, and I’m probably going to have my hip and maybe both knees replaced, but you don’t have any excuses, Lo,” Poochie said. “Have you been exercising?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s lying,” Lucky said. “She walks to her car and into the grocery store. Tell the truth, Lo.”

  “I’ve been walking some of the Rose Bowl.”

  “We’ve been walking it together,” Korynthia said. “So shut the hell up, Lucky. What about your limp?”

  “It’s my hip, I’ll have you know. But I probably am going to do the gastric bypass surgery so I can kill two birds with one stone,” Lucky said.

  “Then just do it!” I yelled.

  “I go to the gym because I have a SilverSneakers membership,” Sadie said.

  “I don’t want to work out with a bunch of old people,” I said.

  “This is the most stimulating conversation I’ve had at the dinner table in frigging years,” Korynthia said, rolling her eyes.

  In our younger days, our once-a-month catch-up dinners usually meant complaining about ex-husbands or current husbands (even though I rarely had any complaints about Carl), and whining about our kids or grandkids, or pets for Sadie who didn’t have either. But the last few years, it has gotten to the point where new health problems or old ones take up the majority of the time. At least once a week one of us seems to have a date with some kind of doctor and the scale of the problems seems to escalate by the month. I’d been avoiding doctors before Carl passed because I didn’t want to know if something was wrong with me.

  “Get your blood pressure checked regularly,” Poochie shouted from the phone.

  “Okay, Poochie, there’s nothing left inside or outside our bodies to check, so bye! We love you!” Korynthia said.

  “And we’ll see you soon,” I said.

  And the screen went blank.

  We all just sat there for a few minutes.

  “You go next, Lo,” Korynthia said.

  “I’d rather go last this evening,” I said.

  “Well, since the real estate market is slow, if you don’t let me work in the store soon, I might just put my house on the market and move on down to San Diego,” Korynthia said.

  “Why would you want to do that?” Lucky asked.

  “My kids asked me to.”

  “There’s nothing but a lot of rich boring white folks in San Diego,” Lucky said.

  “I’m probably not going. But I’ll tell you something I am thinking about doing, since I don’t have anything holding my interest at the moment.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Going on a senior dating site.”

  “I’ve heard a lot of people have found love on those things,” Sadie said, shocking the hell out of us.

  “How would you know, Sadie?” Lucky asked.

  “Because I know people who’ve met folks.”

  “I do, too,” Ko said. “This getting old shit is getting a little boring. I’m lonely as hell and if I meet somebody maybe I’ll have a reason to stay put.”

  Sadie took a loud, deep breath, which caused everybody to look at her.

  “I’ve been sinning,” Sadie said.

  “It’s about damn time!” I said.

  “With my minister.”

  “Your minister? I thought you were a lesbian?” Korynthia said.

  “What would make you think that?” she asked.

  “I saw a woman kiss you on the lips in the parking lot at your church.”

  “That’s how we all say good night. Anyway, as soon as he gets the nerve to tell his wife, we’re going to get married.”

  “So you’re both sinning,” I said, and shook my head.

  “I thought you were too smart to do some stupid shit like this,” Lucky said.

  “Me, too,” I said. “How in the hell did this happen, Sadie?”

  “By accident. After choir practice one night. His wife is not very comforting and he wants a divorce but he’s afraid how it might look.”

  “So, how does Mr. Preacher Man think God feels about him committing adultery?”

  “You sound like a damn fool, Sadie,” Ko said.

  “I love him.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Lucky said. “Just don’t go picking out a white dress.”

  Silence.

  Then all eyes were on me.

  “I want to start with the good news.”

  They crossed their arms and leaned back in their chairs.

  “My granddaughter Cinnamon called me today to tell me she’s having a boy and a girl and you won’t believe this: she’s naming them Pretty and Handsome.”

  Everybody downed their drinks.

  “Also, Carl’s partner bought out his share of the construction company from me. I’m going to use some of the proceeds to take a trip to Tokyo. I need to see my son and his wife and finally meet my twin granddaughters.”

  “When?” Sadie asked. “I’d go with you if you wanted someone to travel with.”

  Everybody, including me, rolled their eyes at her.

  “I don’t know exactly when yet, but I’m a big girl and don’t really need an escort.”

  “Do twins run in your family?” Lucky asked.

  “I suppose they do.”

  “What about Kwame? How’s he doing?” Korynthia asked.

  “He’s fine. He’s moving back into the two-bedroom he’d been in and I bought him a used Prius.”

  Lucky just rolled her eyes.

  “Why?” Korynthia asked.

  “He needed a better one so he could drive with Uber. Plus, he didn’t like construction.”

  “So, tell us what’s going on with Jalecia,” Sadie said. “I’ve been praying for her.”

  “Well. It’s been over three weeks since I bailed her out and I haven’t heard a word from her.”

  “Sadie, maybe you can offer up an extra prayer to ensure she makes that court appearance,” Lucky said.

  “I will,” Sadie said, rather convincingly.

  “You didn’t use your house for collateral, I hope?”

  “I’m no
t stupid, Lucky. But at least I now know where she’s living.”

  “Where?” Sadie asked.

  “Compton.”

  “You’re shitting us?” Korynthia asked.

  “She’s been living with her aunt Peggy.”

  “Peggy looked a little rough around the edges her damn self at the Repasse,” Lucky said.

  “Can you contact Peggy?”

  “I don’t have her number.”

  “Have you reached out to Jalecia?” Korynthia asked.

  “She won’t answer my calls. I’m worried about her, but I don’t know what else I can do right now.”

  “Would you like to pray?” Sadie asked.

  She reached over Lucky and squeezed my hand.

  Then it got quiet. Korynthia crossed her arms. Lucky leaned on her elbows.

  Everybody took a sip of something and then started to help clear the table.

  “Hold on a second,” Korynthia said, and pressed her palms on the edge of the table. “I would just like to say this about Jalecia: Lo, you may be pissed at me for saying it, but I think you just need to be patient and wait to see what she does. You can’t make Jalecia do anything. And if she’s lost, she’ll reach out when she wants to be found.”

  I was sitting in the dog park, watching B. B. King pretending to enjoy himself but failing. He was walking along the fence, like he was in prison wishing he could escape, but it had more to do with the fact that he knew he couldn’t run as fast as the other dogs. He looked lonely, especially since his girlfriend had apparently moved out of the neighborhood. But then a black Lab walked over to him and dropped his red ball. B. B. King looked him in the eye as if to ask: You mean you want to play? The Lab gave him a look: Pick the ball up, dummy! Which is exactly what B. B. King did, and then dropped it so it rolled. The Lab went after it, and B. B. King slowly galloped after him.

  I checked my phone. I had a missed call from Dr. Alexopolous’s office. What could she possibly want? And even though it was starting to rain, which is something it rarely does in Pasadena, I decided to call her back since I was sitting under a tree filled with a flock of green birds.

  The receptionist advised me that she had called because they had not yet received a request for my medical records from my new endocrinologist. I forgot they had told me I needed to start seeing an endocrinologist in addition to Dr. Alexopolous. I was too embarrassed to tell her I hadn’t gotten one yet. So, I lied.