Sister Betty Says I Do

by Pat G'Orge-Walker

  Now they both had a reason to be pissed. Bea and Freddie finally got up off the floor and fell onto the bed. They then began throwing air punches, neither really wanting their hands to touch the other, but feeling the need to beat each other down.

  It took two big-boned nurses, several laughing orderlies, and one Leotis, all locking hands, to pull Bea and Freddie apart.

  A short time later, after he was asked to leave the hospital, Leotis was inside his car, and he kept jerking the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve like a drunken maniac, as he mumbled under his breath, saying something about kicking the Devil’s behind. He also kept one eye on Freddie.

  The old man was back into his old fetal position, still fussing. “They ain’t gonna be satisfied until I end up in jail, right alongside them I be trying to help.” He uncoiled himself and threw a nasty look at Bea in the backseat before he returned to his folded position. “Old crones just won’t mind their business.” He then mumbled something that couldn’t be said in polite company, in church, or to anyone under the age of twenty-one. But at least he had changed into the clean clothes that Leotis had brought.

  Bea, on the other hand, had the car lit up. The weather had turned very humid and the rain had stopped, and Leotis had all the windows rolled down and the sunroof top completely open. Keeping the windows rolled up and the air-conditioning running wasn’t an option.

  “Mother Blister,” Leotis said for the third time since she’d insisted he drop her home. She couldn’t put on the wig, which still smelled of urine, and she wasn’t about to be seen bald-headed, she’d told him. “I really wish you had accepted the offer of a couple of hospital gowns and had changed your clothes.”

  “So what is it that you keep trying to say, Pastor?” Bea wanted to pinch her nose to keep the smell of urine from entering it. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my clothes that can’t be washed out in the laundry. I believe you playing favorites, anyhow.” She turned and quickly stuck her bald head out the open backseat window, hoping, humidity or not, that some fresh air hit her face, before pointing to where Freddie sat and adding, “Why he gets to sit up front in this here fancy car? It ain’t like he’s still sick. If he was, then they should’ve kept his old . . . blah-blah-blah . . . ”

  With the way Bea behaved, there was no doubt that Leotis would drop her at her apartment before he took Freddie home.

  He pulled up in front of Bea’s building and was opening the car door so he could hurry her out when he saw Sasha stepping off the Access-a-Ride bus. She had her cane and Bible in one hand and was swinging her white pillbox hat in the other. No sooner had she hit the curb than she began hopscotching all over the cement walkway that divided the two buildings. Her mouth was twisted, and she had fire in her eyes. “Thank God the trustee stayed in the car,” he murmured.

  He glanced at Bea, who was holding her head in her hands. He wasn’t about to tell her that the way she clasped her head would only bring more attention to her baldness. He prayed silently, Lord, please don’t let her see Mother Pray Onn. Amen.

  Despite Bea trying to use her hands to cover her baldness, Leotis yanked one of her hands away from her head. “C’mon. We need to hurry,” he told her.

  “What the ham and cheese? Are you crazy, Pastor?” Bea hissed as she looked around to see if what he’d done was drawing attention to her baldness.

  Leotis didn’t answer; instead, he began urging Bea along by pulling her elbow toward the front door of her building.

  Bea quickly dropped her free hand away from her head. She tried pushing her pastor away, struggling to keep a dignified bald-headed appearance.

  However, Leotis resisted Bea’s attempt at freedom. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with Sasha, and he was certain she was mad about something. When wasn’t she? Despite the odor rising off Bea’s clothes and her trying to pinch him, Leotis still wouldn’t turn her loose. When they got to her building, he almost shoved her through the door.

  “Bea . . . Pastor, hold up!”

  He didn’t have to turn around. He could almost imagine the fire coming out of Sasha’s mouth. The only thing he could do was pretend he hadn’t heard her. “I’ve got to get the trustee home,” he told Bea before he spun around and began trotting toward his car, but Sasha beat him there.

  “Somebody better tell me something.” She looked over toward Bea, who hadn’t gone inside, despite her need to keep her bald head out of view. Sasha didn’t say a word about Bea’s nude scalp. Instead, using her pillbox hat like a flag, she began waving at Bea so that she’d come over.

  Bea’s curiosity trumped her pride, and she rushed back to the car. As soon as she got within inches of Sasha, Bea quickly snatched Sasha’s pillbox hat and slapped it down on her own head.

  Sasha didn’t care about the hat, and without realizing that Freddie sat within earshot in the front seat of Leotis’s car—not that she would care if she knew—she began her tirade. “There ain’t gonna be a wedding, Bea!”

  “Say wha—”

  Sasha cut Bea off with a wave of her cane. “That’s right,” she snapped before turning to face Leotis. “How could you let something like this happen?”

  No matter what Leotis could say, he knew it would do nothing to convince Bea and Sasha to calm down.

  Even having upon them the eyes of all those in the crowd that’d begun to form didn’t stop Bea and Sasha from causing a scene. Instead, the two old women tag teamed Leotis, peppering him with questions and accusations.

  “Bea and me done gone out of our way to give them two undeserving somethings a classy wedding reception. And the way the trustee’s been acting and threatening folks, we know there’s nothing physically wrong with that son of a gun!”

  “That’s right,” Bea added. “And him hiding out in some hospital room ain’t gonna stop nothing, ’cause you best believe there’s gonna be a wedding. That coward ain’t gonna get away with playing with Sister Betty’s emotions!”

  “Or ours!” Sasha added.

  Bea continued. “There’s gonna be a wedding, even if we have to hold it at his funeral, because I’m gonna kill him if he’s wasted our time.” Bea stopped and nodded toward Sasha. “Sasha and me done put aside our differences and come up with one of them things called a business plan.”

  Leotis buried his face in his hands. He needed to do something with his hands before he set aside praying with them and began throwing punches.

  “Sure did,” Sasha agreed, ignoring whatever her pastor thought he was doing. “It was my idea first. I stopped putting up with she-rilla’s crazy plans, and I let her throw in with me.”

  “Quit lying!” Bea hissed. She filed away Sasha’s insult for payback at a later day. She put a hand on one hip and spoke directly to Leotis, ignoring Sasha altogether. “We planning on starting our B.S. event-planning service, and doggone it, when folks see what a good job we done with our first wedding reception, we gonna do like them young folks always saying—”

  “That’s right,” Sasha proclaimed. “We’s getting paid!”

  They held their heads high, gave a high five, and then, without waiting for a reply from the gape-mouthed reverend, they walked away. Sasha, using her cane, and Bea, with that pillbox hat on her bald head, waded through the onlookers, not caring who pointed and laughed.

  Getting on the elevator to their apartments, Bea and Sasha didn’t even say another unkind word to each other. They knew that if what Sasha had heard from Sharvon was true, then they had their work cut out for them. But they were two old women on a budget. They’d already put down a hundred-dollar down payment at Porky’s El Diablo Soul Food Shanty. It was the place they’d decided was within their budget to give the couple the wedding reception that’d launch their latest sure-to-fail moneymaking scheme. Neither had planned to tell Leotis or many others about it until they mailed the invitations, but they were also determined not to lose their hundred-dollar investment.

  But there was one loser there already. Freddie had overheard everything. B
efore he heard Sasha say so, he’d already figured out that Sister Betty might want out of the marriage. He wanted to have enough time to figure things out so he could win her back. Freddie hadn’t counted on her giving up without a fight, and he especially hadn’t figured she would tell Sasha or anyone else she’d thrown in the towel before she told him.

  Dark circles began forming around his eyes as he reached for the hair sprig, now long gone along, as were his appetite and much of his strength, sapped by taking the chemo pills. “She could’ve told me first,” he murmured as his lips began fluttering from anger. He looked up toward the roof of the car, as though he’d expected to see God hanging from it. “Why’d you give her to me if you was gonna take me out of here? Couldn’t you have let me have her love for just a little while?” Freddie stopped praying aloud as soon as he heard Leotis’s hand on the car door. I ain’t never had love. It looks like I never will.

  Before Sasha’s unwelcome visit a short time ago, Sister Betty had every intention of praying and fasting from six o’clock in the morning until six o’clock in the evening. She was going to fast until she received a breakthrough to God. Yet now Sister Betty sat on the edge of her bed, still dressed in her nightgown, with her hands under her chin. She kept thumbing her chin and throwing dirty looks around the room. She was murmuring and fussing one minute and then asking God the same questions she’d been asking Him since Sasha fled from her porch. “Why, Lord? Can I get a smidgen of peace? I have done promised to give up Freddie until and unless you say different, so why I am still tormented?”

  Sharvon soon came into the room with her long hair all out of place. There were several rips in the tight, formfitting beige jeans she wore, and two buttons were missing from the top of her blouse. “I’m so sorry, Cousin Betty,” she said softly. “I’m a guest in your home, and as an attorney, I knew better.” Sharvon walked over to where Sister Betty remained seated, and sat down on the bed next to her. She placed an arm around Sister Betty’s shoulders before laying her head upon it. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Sister Betty lifted Sharvon’s chin and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Sharvon,” Sister Betty told her. “I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt when you tripped down the steps and fell into my rosebush.”

  “But I was trying to hurt that old hen,” Sharvon reminded her. “I wanted to take that magazine and push it where the sun won’t shine!”

  “Sharvon, you’ve been in Pelzer long enough to know that Sasha has that effect on everyone.”

  Sharvon smiled at Sister Betty and rose from the bed. “Yes, I know. I just hope none of your neighbors were looking. I don’t want to embarrass you.” Sharvon began laughing. “But you should’ve seen that old biddy get out of the way. She was quicker than I imagined. She got the message, though.”

  “What makes you think that?” Sister Betty laughed slightly. “Sasha could hear something twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week, and she still wouldn’t get the message.” Sister Betty stood and stretched. “Well, I guess there’s no sense in just lying around. I’d better get started on picking out something to wear to service tomorrow. It’s the third Sunday, and I think it’s the trustees’ board that is in charge.”

  No sooner had she mentioned the word trustee than her smile vanished from her face and a tear took its place in the corner of an eye. Sister Betty reached out behind her. She found the mattress and fell back onto it. Pulling the covers over her, she turned away from Sharvon.

  Sharvon now felt completely helpless. At this moment she didn’t have the nerve or the heart to admit to Sister Betty that in her anger at Sasha’s stubbornness, she’d blurted that there’d probably be no wedding. Instead, she quietly backed out the door. She went to her room to give Sister Betty her space and to change from her battle clothes.

  While she changed and brushed her hair, Sharvon began trying to figure out a way to help her cousin. She wasn’t out of step to the ways of the world, but her experience was limited. She had dated and was open to more dating, but her focus had always been career oriented, until she had let her guard down with Leotis and had allowed Ima to turn her green with jealousy.

  Pinning her hair back, she continued imagining how she could’ve made things better for Sister Betty. Sharvon began thinking how if this were a court of law, and her cousin’s fate were in the hands of a jury and not left to God, she would argue her cousin’s case before it. She’d produce evidence that Sister Betty had been a longtime member of God’s army and, for the most part, had served with good standing. She’d tell the jury to look at the way the woman had set herself aside for many years and had never looked for love or companionship in her advanced years, but once finding it, she’d believed God had sent the man Freddie Noel her way.

  Sharvon would go on to convince the jury that it was the bond Sister Betty had with Leotis that’d caused her to take her eyes off the marriage prize. She’d convince the jury to sentence Sister Betty, along with Freddie, as her codefendant, to a life of nothing but marital bliss and service to the Lord.

  Sharvon’s thoughts faded once she finished dressing. She then went to the kitchen to make the most of her first full Saturday off in quite some time. She was about to put together what she’d need to cook for their dinner, believing Sister Betty wasn’t up to it, when she realized she needed something from the garden. She went to the garden, and on her knees, she gathered several fresh herbs. Just as she was standing up, the sound of a car door closing caught her attention.

  Sharvon watched Leotis retrieve a small suitcase from the trunk of his Tahoe. She also saw Freddie exit the passenger side of the SUV and walk slowly around to its front. Even though there was some distance between the houses, she could see that there were dark circles around Freddie’s eyes. The circles made his lemony complexion look like the skin of a leopard. He’d never been a handsome man by any standard, but at that moment Sharvon was truly shocked that he looked worse than the last time she’d seen him. He looked almost emaciated, and that was saying something for a man who was naturally skinny.

  What is wrong with Freddie? Why is he with Leotis? Sharvon lifted the pail in her hands as she stood and looked back at the door she’d left ajar. She really hadn’t expected Sister Betty to be standing there, but nothing normal had happened all day. When she didn’t see her, she turned back around to discover the two men were no longer there.

  “Something’s not right,” Sharvon muttered. And then it occurred to her that whatever the reason Leotis had been avoiding her cousin, it must have something to do with Freddie. She was disappointed, because she’d already blamed it on Ima keeping Leotis occupied. “This is ridiculous!”

  Sharvon didn’t bother to take the pail filled with herbs back inside. She left it right where she dropped it in the garden and headed straight for Leotis’s house. She didn’t care that she trespassed through the neighbor’s yard that separated the two homes. The determined look upon her face even cut short the barking from the neighbor’s dog, Felony. The normally aggressive mutt sped away, whimpering.

  Chapter 12

  After Sasha had blurted out the bad news about Sister Betty calling off the wedding, Freddie seemed to deteriorate physically and mentally right before Leotis’s eyes. Leotis had a hard time convincing Freddie to stay with him. “Now the whole church will know,” Freddie explained, hanging his head.

  “Just lie down and relax,” Leotis told Freddie after leading him directly from the car inside the house and into a spare bedroom. “You need to get back your strength.” Leotis threw back the bedcover while Freddie waited, slumped in a recliner off in the corner. “I’ve got the prescription the doctor gave for your blood pressure. He also wants your pressure taken when you wake in the mornings, and to make sure you take the Thalomid about the same time every night.”

  Leotis went over to Freddie and led him to the bed. “This room is smaller than my others, but it has the best sunlight.” He pointed toward a door off to the left of the bedroom. “You’ve
got a bathroom with a shower. I’ll pick up a shower seat to put inside when I pick up your prescription.”

  Freddie’s weakness had traveled throughout his body, and even his tongue felt too weak to speak. His strength that day seemed to have come and gone with the least exertion. He nodded at Leotis and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “Go ahead and lie down,” Leotis told him. “Later you can change into some pajamas or whatever you wear.” He walked over to one of the dressers and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small Bible. Placing the Bible on the nightstand, he looked at Freddie, expecting him to protest about what he was certain must’ve seemed like treating him like a baby.

  “Thank you, Pastor. Thank you.” Freddie had caught Leotis by surprise when he spoke.

  “God is able,” Leotis replied. “You’ll get through this.”

  “If you say so,” Freddie replied before shifting his body so that Leotis couldn’t see his face. “Not sure I want to.”

  Leotis saw in real time Freddie’s depression settling in. At that moment, as he closed the door to the bedroom, he could’ve truly laid his hands upon Sasha and wired her big mouth shut.

  Leotis decided that while Freddie rested, he would run to the nearby drugstore. He’d fill the prescription and pick up the shower seat. He grabbed his car keys and house keys to leave, opened the door, and came face-to-face with Sharvon. She had her hand out, reaching for the doorbell.

  “I hope you weren’t going anywhere, because we need to talk, and I mean right now!” She came across as harsh. At that moment she cared less if he was a pastor or not, especially since, to her way of thinking, he hadn’t acted like one. “I need to come inside, unless you want me to speak my mind right here at your front door.”

  “You’ve got the wrong idea, as well as a lot of nerve.” Leotis’s eyes seemed to turn darker with anger, but he didn’t budge. He stood there as if he were an immovable object facing down another immovable object, one that he objected to, as it was up in his face in a disrespectful manner. “This is not the time,” he snapped as thoughts of Bea and Sasha’s shenanigans came to mind. “Trust me when I say this.” He leaned in with his brow furrowed, his lips clenched tight. “It’s been one of those days, so I know for certain the Devil is testing me. You need to back down, because I’m not certain I’d pass that test.”