by Janet Walker
Chapter Forty-Six
WONDERFUL WHIRL
Tracy walked into her aunt’s kitchen the Wednesday evening after the wondrous weekend and deposited her school backpack on the floor. Madgelyn Porter stood at the sink, washing dishes, and did not look up when her niece entered the room.
“Hey, Aun’ Madge.”
“Hi, Tracy.”
Tracy placed a light kiss on her aunt’s cheek and sank into a chair at the table. She exhaled in a great puff of air and announced, “I’m tired! Miz Grace be killing us.”
“Is that so?” the aunt said without turning away from her work.
“Yop. This our first real week of practice, and I don’t know what’s harder—it or the training we just did.”
At the sink there was silence except for the sound of water running from a tap and the clank of sterling silverware and porcelain dishes striking together. Sensing that her aunt was not in a good mood, or at least not in a talkative one, Tracy rose to leave.
“Miss Grace called.”
The teen halted. “She did? What for?”
“She wanted to know if you could spend the night with her again this coming Saturday.”
Tracy’s mouth fell open in stunned pleasure before she recovered enough to speak. “She did? She ain’t say nothing to me about it at school.”
“Well, at any rate, she wants you there. Says her husband will be home this weekend and she thought you might like to spend some time with them.”
“Yes!” the girl exclaimed happily—and then, with sudden caution: “What you tell her?”
“That I had to ask your mother.”
Tracy frowned. “Why you gotta ask her?”
“Because she’s your mother.”
“You my mama more than she is. She stupid, anyway.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
“But she is craze—”
“You heard me, Tracy. Jehovah says honor your parents. Even if they are crazy.”
The girl sighed, frustrated. “Well, what Mama say?”
“Believe it or not, she didn’t have a problem with it.”
“For real?” Tracy smiled.
“But you shouldn’t expect to be with Miss Grace every weekend.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s rude. No one should visit someone every weekend.”
“This’ll only be my second time over there.”
Madge wrung out the dishcloth. “I just don’t want you to wear out your welcome. And don’t pester her about letting you come over. Wait for her to invite you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And…make sure you get your homework done on Friday night.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And…you have to be back Sunday at a decent time. No later than three would be good.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And…” Madge wiped her hands on the dry hand cloth and sighed, unable to think of anything else. “Never mind,” she said and left the room.
