The Rhythm of Blues

by Love Belvin

  She let go of a breath, her lips vibrating against the shooting air. “Okay,” her voice petite, formal. “I guess Gee-Gee’s sleep, too?” I nodded. “All right.” She giggled. “I guess I can see why. You guys were up late.” Her thick shoulders lifted coyly. “I felt tension between the two of you in my spirit last night when you walked me to my room. Then when I went down for water, I saw him jogging down the stairs pouting.” She giggled again. “I know that pout. He been this big since he was eleven…always a big boy. Always pouting…brooding.” The moment grew stale. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Her voice was deliberately low. “I hope I’m no trouble for you.”

  Though it was exactly what she was goading for, I assured her. “Oh, no!” I whispered myself. “No tension at all.” Her eyes opened wide as to challenge me for the truth, but a smile remained on her lips. The lady seemed to have known something more than what I was trying to reveal. It made me think about Raj’s sharing of her being “a real one”—whatever that meant. I let go of a breath through my nostrils, eyes closing again to regroup. “We met an understanding before falling asleep.”

  I fell into the crack of the door, stealthily to be sure she couldn’t see he wasn’t in the bed. Pastor McKinnon’s eyes bounced all around my face as she seemed to be processing my words. “Okay. Well, I had breakfast already. That nice Earl made me oatmeal. Now, I’m going for a walk out back. Maybe see Arnie. Thought I’d see if…” She tossed her chin to gesture the room. “If he wanted to get some praise and worship in with me this morning. I guess I’ll let him be. I know you guys’re tired.”

  I nodded. “I’ll let him know as soon as he wakes up.”

  The pastor smiled, eyes blinking as she turned away. “Okay. You’re more than welcome, too.” Her voice was still soprano, sweeter than she probably gave those she knew well.

  After she took off down the hall, I closed the door behind me. Pausing for a second to process that brief encounter with Ragee’s grandmother, I wiped my face again. I promised him I’d be nice to her and I had every intention of keeping my word. My attention went across the colossal room. Him. Before I knew it, I was on my way.

  With trepidation, I toed down the two steps into the sitting room. From this vantage point, I could see him stretched across the couch, lips parted while lost in sleep. There was an open book laying on his stomach and an iPad on his chest, playing a video. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, as my mind turned over more than it could process. Not knowing why, I tiptoed over toward him with a crying bladder, too curious to be smart.

  On the screen of the iPad played a church service. A thick bearded man crossed a pulpit with… I squinted to be sure. He ran beads through his left hand as he spoke. One of the buds had fallen out of Ragee’s ear. Still stupidly curious, I softly lifted it from his shoulder, plugged it into my ear, and heard the raspy delivery of a preacher.

  “Holiness isn’t an act limited to your behavior while within these four walls, tabernacle. Holiness is your conduct on the job, in your bedroom late at night, and when out with friends being social. Holiness is what you present when encountering souls in the streets. It’s what you practice while on social media—in the direct and private messages. Peter told us in Chapter one, ‘Therefore, prepare your minds for action, keep sober in spirit, fix your hope completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior.’ Holiness is a journey. You don’t clock in and out of it like you would a job or a visit to your local place of worship.”

  I pulled the bud from my ear when the audience went up in applause.

  Who is Peter and what book did he write?

  My eyes traveled down Ragee’s body to the open book. It was a Bible…unmistakably. The fine print, the numbers next to each line. It looked weathered…and thick. At the top of the two pages was “Ruth.”

  I began reading from the top of the first page about a woman named Naomi, who was married with two sons, and they fled their homeland because of a famine. Her whole family, including two daughters-in-law, moved to some place called Moab to start over. She eventually lost her husband and stayed with her sons and their wives. Then eventually, Naomi’s sons died. Both of them. Sheesh!

  Talk about the rhythm of blues…

  My brows met and face went hard as I kept reading the small print. I’d never read a Bible before. Had no idea it included stories like this. When she lost her sons, Naomi heard about their hometown being lit again with food and opportunity, at least that was how I saw it. So, she and the daughters-in-law set out to return. But out of nowhere, Naomi urged them to continue without her. She told them to go back to their parents and start all over with new husbands. The girls didn’t want to. They cried, not wanting to leave her behind.

  Naomi must’ve been a bomb mother-in-law…

  The two girls, Orpah—what an ugly name—and Ruth…

  My eyes went back to the top of the page where I made the correlation. This was her story. The girls were clearly stuck on Naomi, but eventually Orpah chucked the deuces and went about her way.

  My girl…

  I kept reading on in spite of the protest from my bladder. “But Ruth replied, ‘Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.’ When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her—

  My reading was interrupted by sea deep chords sprinkling over me. “Like what you see?”

  My eyes popped so wide the balls of them hurt. They swung all around, in search of what, I didn’t know, but landed on a wide tent made just above the Bible. It was growing taller and taller at his pelvis line.

  Whoa…

  That’s when I realized, I was crouched down next to him, facing his morning wood. My spine arched and I hunched over. This looked so bad. Felt so bad. I was just reading the Bible and then…measuring the tent of the throw blanket the next.

  Then I felt my bladder kick. I scrambled to my feet before embarrassing myself.

  “Uh…” I tried before making it to the steps. “Your grandmother stopped by. She said something about praise and worship out back!” I shouted all the way to the bathroom.

  I slammed the door behind me, barely making it to the toilet.

  ~9~

  “Winny!” immature vocals cried and right away, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet coming my way.

  I dropped to my haunches after closing the door, and placed the bag of groceries on the floor next to me. My arms opened wide and welcoming. “Shelly!”

  I grabbed his tiny frame in my arms, lifting my nephew off his feet, and shook him in the air.

  He pulled back. “Shelly a girl name, Winny!” He pouted.

  So smart.

  “But it’s a nickname for Sheldon, lil guy.” I ran my hands over his soft braids. “You’re getting so tall. What’re you now, seven?” My eyes widened playfully.

  He giggled. “I three, Winny!” The tot tried pushing three fingers in the air. I could tell he’d been practicing. “See?”

  “Well, let’s fix you right,” I mumbled, arranging his little digits for him. “There you go!” Sheldon laughed, proudly gaping at his handiwork. I stood to my heeled feet. “You’ve been here all day?” My question was futile. He was too young to know what that meant.

  “Mmmmhmmm…” he answered, top lip sucked into his mouth, and little brows pinched as he tried perfecting the length of his fingers.

  “Stop lying, LS.” My eyes flew up to find his mother. She was still tiny, still almost like a child herself. Her eyes landed on me lit in awe—of me now being married to one of the most recognizable names in the business, I was sure—and th
en dimmed in shame, as they always did. “We only been here a few hours, waiting…”

  “Waiting on what?”

  I shouldn’t have asked. I told myself to stop caring years ago. But I couldn’t take the question back.

  “Sheldon. Wanda’s in town. She dropped me off at the doctor this morning. He supposed to be coming to pick us up.” I nodded. Then her eyes fell again. “So, Ragee? Is he as cute in real life as he is on television?”

  I hated I couldn’t see her eyes. Her voice, however, was filled with as much wonderment as it used to when our dynamic was simplistic.

  Before I could speak, wails from a baby smaller than Sheldon sounded from the back of the house.

  “Come get her, Reign! She up,” MaMa yelled from back there.

  I reached down to pick up the bag of groceries. “The baby okay? Cold going around?”

  Moving in her direction to get to the back, Reign shook her head, sad regard falling to the floor. I didn’t have the capacity to ask what was wrong, neither did I want to discuss details of my fake marriage. There was always something wrong. And more times than not, what was wrong was exactly what I’d been trying to keep her from since she was born. I kept my stride toward the kitchen where I knew MaMa was. Just as I stepped into the hall, the front door pushed open.

  “Yo!” A baritone I was once too conversant with shouted. “Reign!”

  I turned toward the living room and peeped a tall figure barreling through. Encased in an orange bubble goose, his fists were clenched at his sides as they always were. His eyes were in search until they landed on me. And per usual, they responded first. Sheldon’s heavy steps halted abruptly and he stood paralyzed for a few seconds. His regard skirted over to his children’s mother, who was closer to him than I was, as he was registering the scene: his surroundings. But they returned to me in a hurry. I guessed he had questions about my recent and unexpected nuptials, too. He fucking knew better than to inquire.

  Reign paused, too. With Shelly’s hand in hers, she stood still but for her head swinging to me.

  “You ready?” he asked her when the duration of his gape turned awkward.

  Reign’s big regretful eyes blinked before her face fell toward her son. “Yeah. Lemme get Hailee together.”

  That was my cue. I turned back toward the kitchen and began my journey. Not that I wanted to be here. Returning to this place had always been met with anxiety. But it was my obligation now.

  She was my obligation.

  Sitting in her wheelchair, MaMa’s upper torso stretched twisted onto the washing machine where she used a coin to scratch off her lottery tickets. I placed the bag on the table to begin to unpack.

  “I told you I ain’t need nothing but my Pick 4s.”

  Quickly, I snatched the stack of lottery tickets from my pocket and tossed them on the table toward her.

  She quieted, examining the quantity of them. It was more than she’d buy on her own and she knew it. I only ever wanted the woman happy, though she made it clear years ago she was no concern of mine and I was none of hers. It hurt me as a kid, and annoyed me now as an adult. The woman was so damn stubborn and…toxic.

  “Hmph,” she hummed, returning to what was in her chunky hands. “I guess marrying that great, big ol superstar turned you big time now.”

  Ignoring that snide remark, I responded as though it hadn’t been uttered. “You didn’t ask for food, but Van told me you said you didn’t have anything to take with your pills.” I eyed her closely as I pulled out a can of Pringles and a bag of Bugles—her favorite.

  She stretched her arm over in the tiny kitchen to reach for the lottery tickets. “Wanda brought me some B-Way Burger last night. I ain’t eat it all.” MaMa wouldn’t look at me. She rarely did.

  “Well, here’s some bread, butter, lunch meat, eggs, and snacks. Try not to let these kids running through here eat all your food. I told Van how I told you to call me if you need anything.” I began folding the empty paper bag. “I don’t want him worrying while in there. I told him I had your back.”

  “Child, you ain’t gone never have my back,” she scoffed. “I’m a grown ass woman. Been one before you came into this world. Been taking care of myself way before you and since you been coming ‘round here.” Her eyes were glued to the miniature papers in her hands. She snorted, “You got a fancy ol’ husband now. Go work on keeping him faithful.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned to leave. It had been a long day already for me. Earlier, I scarfed down a B-Way Burger, rationalizing the price wasn’t much different from a cheeseburger. Besides, I’d worked out first thing this morning, so I was still on a healthy pursuit. After my workout, I dressed in jeans and the heeled boots Myisha scored for me and paired them with an old turtleneck and leather jacket before heading east on the highway. I may have looked the part, but was tired from getting almost no sleep last night in a new place. Again.

  “When Van coming home?” she demanded.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m trying to find that out now. I’ve been working on it every day.”

  MaMa’s eyes swung up to the small kitchen window. “You know that car just sitting out there for nothing,” she referred to my Honda Civic. “Lil Reign could use it to bus them babies around. Now, she got another one baking and need the doctor.” She gestured out the window with her forehead. “You should be a good big sister and let her drive it now that you married and rich and thangs.”

  “She and Sheldon can figure out transportation for their family,” whisked from my lips as I turned to leave again.

  “You gotta let that hate go,” she advised in my wake. “Gotta let go of the past.”

  “I’ll let you try first then I’ll go next.”

  “Whew!” I pushed out, arms over my head as I stretched.

  “You look tired, baby,” Pastor McKinnon observed.

  I tried smiling. “I am.”

  Earl was over me, taking my empty plate. “What do you think of that lobster mac-n-cheese soufflé?” he murmured.

  I grabbed my bulging belly. “You can’t tell? I had three servings of that alone.” I snorted.

  Earl cooked his ass off, that was for sure.

  “What about you, Pastor McKinnon?” he asked when he arrived to drop off another glass of sweet tea to her.

  “You know Grandmother cleaned that plate. That and those sautéed collards she claim she ‘on’t like.” Ragee licked his fingers while chewing then swallowed a forkful of salad.

  Salad. All this good food before us and he had a damn salad and cold lobster. He did have a piece of pan fried cornbread, too, but just a modest sized piece.

  Ragee’s grandmother laughed, her wide chin dipped. Pastor McKinnon mostly behaved shyly, not like the iron-fist-ruling pastor he would make one perceive her to be. “You know that’s one of my favorites of yours.”

  “I know,” Earl’s reply was arrogant, so him. “And I have another favorite up my sleeve—” His one palm flew in the air for mercy. “A healthier creation than the usual, like the soufflé tonight.”

  “Better be,” Raj gruffed, but not too seriously. “She came up here to rest. That means to get her numbers right, too. You ain’t mention your blood pressure readings none today,” he reminded his grandmother.

  Pastor McKinnon giggled again, enjoying the fuss being made over her.

  “Sweet potato truffle balls.” Earl’s hand formed the perfection sign and he air kissed the tips of his fingers. “A vegan favorite, made with a no-sugar-added sweet potato puree. The only sugar used was a pinch of powder to coat them. They’re beautiful, healthy, and delicious,” Earl announced like a commercial read.

  Ragee chomped down on his food as he shook his head in warning. I got the impression he wouldn’t deny his grandmother anything. Though, now, I had the inkling she suffered from high blood pressure—at least. She was clearly obese, easily weighing well over two hundred-eighty pounds. Her arms were like two sausage logs linked together and her belly was a big snowball. Her stout sh
ape wasn’t much different from MaMa’s, just a heftier build.

  “I’ll have a couple on the back porch out there,” she informed with a smile and lifted shoulders, stubborn excitement twinkling in her eyes.

  “Very well,” Earl agreed with a slight bow. “How about you, Wynter?”

  My eyes expanded from being caught off guard by that question. I wanted to be left alone for the night to think…and use the bathroom. For some reason, I thought I’d fulfilled my obligation by having dinner with them. I’d “played nice.”

  I blew out a deep breath with my eyes downcast. “I actually have a call I’m expecting soon,” I lied. Van wasn’t due to call for almost an hour. “I may try them later, before bed.” When the room went quiet, I tried adding, “But dinner was another knock out of the park.” I winked, not knowing what else to do.

  “You sure, baby?” Pastor McKinnon asked with lifted brows. “Me and Gee-Gee was gonna go out there by the fire pit and have some tea.”

  My eyes flew to Raj, who was wiping his mouth, eyes stapled to me as though awaiting my answer. There was conflict in his orbs. I didn’t think he liked me, but he had a bare minimum line of respect for me. All I wanted was a peaceful ride throughout this unusual agreement. He’d been giving me the coldest of shoulders for months; yet, it seemed when his grandmother stepped on the scene, the paradigm had shifted. A part of me wanted to shit on him. Raj hadn’t exactly been amicable in marriage or hospitality. Then that tiny, miniscule, yet determined voice cautioned me to just chill. He wanted to please his grandmother, and honestly, there was nothing wrong with that.

  “You more than welcome,” she pushed.

  If Raj wanted me to play along I would, but I needed a moment to myself. I’d had another unsuccessful day of working out, getting MaMa’s shit, then on the phone with Van’s lawyer’s office, basically getting nowhere.

  My eyes squinted as I fought for the right words. “Okay. Can you give me a minute? I’ll be right out.”