Mama B - A Time to Speak (Book 1)

by Michelle Stimpson

  I shouldn’t have been surprised by Peter’s suggestion. That’s one thing about Peter and Libby: they would give away the last cup of milk in their icebox to help somebody.

  “Well, Peter, we may have to take you up on that offer if they don’t get it fixed soon.”

  “Y’all welcome to join us in service or hold your own service soon as we get out. You give Libby the word, the church is open. Full way open”

  “Thank you, Peter. Sure do appreciate the offer.”

  He waved his hand and shuffled on over to the fruit basket. “Ain’t no problem, B. No problem at all.”

  Libby took my empty glass, rinsed it in the sink, and put it in the dishwasher alongside hers. “Shame all this crime moving into Peasner.”

  Peter commented, “That’s the price of progress, Libby. Price of progress.”

  Me and Libby got back to our exercise, heading to my house. Sun a little higher in the sky by then. “We better start a lil’ earlier Wednesday.” I suggested.

  “Yeah. Summertime setting in on us.”

  Kathy Woodridge come outside and waved at us. “I’m gon’ join y’all one of these days.”

  “Kathy, you been sayin’ that for years,” Libby laughed, waving back.

  “I don’t know. But I sure wish the mailman give y’all my mail ‘cause y’all more regular than he is.”

  Libby put her hand on my shoulder and we like ta almost lost our pace laughing with Kathy.

  Chapter 6

  By Wednesday morning , it was clear I had to get my words together so I could have the talk with Nikki. Get to the bottom of why she was in Peasner and why she wasn’t goin’ to work every day. I thought maybe her and Cameron needed a place to stay while she saved up enough money to put down on a new apartment. But the way she was goin, I didn’t see no move-out in sight.

  Well, let me tell the whole truth. I was getting antsy. Cameron was good for bending down and even lifting up couches so I could vacuum, but he was an eating machine. When he wasn’t chomping down on a sandwich, he was playing shooting-type video games. Maybe that’s what I really didn’t like. My kids used to play outside with each other and with their friends until the lights came on. Had to call ‘em inside. Wasn’t any kids on our street for Cameron to play with just yet. They probably wouldn’t be there until later in the summer when their parents needed a break. But I couldn’t take him setting his rump in that chair between every meal. It ain’t natural for a child to sit up in front of a screen all day, I don’t care what nobody say.

  I had to start finding other ways to put him to work.

  Nikki was another one with a blue glow on her face all the time. On her cell phone texting all day.

  Now, I liked technology – had me an email box, myself, on my iPhone. Check it every now and then. I even know how to do those text messages. But you can’t keep you face in front of those doo-dads all the time. Mark my words – it’s gon’ be just like cigarettes and lead paint. Fifty years after they done got everybody exposed to it, they gon’ come out with a study sayin’ all these computers and phones is bad for your health – messin’ up folks’ eyes, throwin’ off the babies’ attention span. Hmph. I ain’t gon’ wait for the government to tell me what common sense already have.

  Anyhow, I had to have a meeting with Nikki ‘bout her plans, once she finally got up. “Morning Nikki-Nik. What you up to today?”

  “Nothing much.”

  “Well, I was wondering about that. You on vacation?”

  She opened both sides of my icebox—refrigerator and freezer—and stood there searching. Look like about five dollars worth of energy come flying out in all the frost. Lord, I don’t even want to see my light bill at the end of the month.

  “I guess you could say I’m on vacation.”

  “You laid off? Between jobs? Fired?”

  She sighed, slumped her shoulders. “Fired.”

  “What happened?”

  With her backside still to me, she explained, “I broke up with my boyfriend, J.T., and was promptly fired from my job as a receptionist at the transmission shop he and his cousin own.”

  “Hmph. Businesses and beaus don’t mix. Happen every time.”

  “Tell me about it. But it’s probably a good thing I left there anyway. I think they’re laundering money.”

  She tucked the carton of orange juice under her arm, grabbed the jug of milk, and pulled down a box of cereal from the top of the refrigerator. “What kind of cereal is this?”

  “All natural. Rolled oats, nuts, dried fruits.”

  “Do you have anything unhealthy to eat first thing in the morning?”

  I pushed my morning study materials aside. “I try not to. But if you must, I got some Bisquick in the pantry. Syrup. You can make yourself some pancakes.”

  “Cameron already ate?”

  “Yes. I sent him outside to pull up any weeds he could find. Told him I’d give him a few dollars.”

  Nikki shook her head. “I’m sure he ran outside when you told him he could earn some money.”

  I chuckled. “He sure did.” I stood up and looked out the back window with Nikki. Cameron had collected a small pile of weeds, but he must have abandoned that effort for a pretend swordfight. He was jumping, kicking, swinging a tree branch. Now that’s what I like to see. Kids breathing fresh air and using their imagination.

  “He’s a good boy, Nikki. You’re doing a good job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Where’s his daddy these days?”

  Nikki stepped away from the window. Got all busy with her cereal again. “Cameron’s father is locked up. He’s got a pretty long sentence.”

  Lord, bless his mother’s heart. “Hmm. What for?”

  “Trying to make quick money.”

  I wondered if he was the drug-sellin’ type or the copper-stealin’ kind. “You think he’ll be a decent influence on Cameron when he gets out? Sometimes a man makes a bad choice in a bad circumstance. Don’t necessarily mean he’ll do it again.”

  “I appreciate you trying to see the bright side of things, but nobody in Cameron’s family is a good influence. They’re all a bunch of ghetto-fabulous losers.” She gathered her cup and bowl, scooted my Bible and pens over a little, and took a seat at the table. “Cameron’s only got me.”

  Hmph. She talked about Cameron’s daddy like he’s the only one in the wrong. I mean, sometimes you got to wonder who’s got the biggest problem: the fool or the one who fell for him?

  “No sense in talking about him so bad. You know anybody else who can help Cameron learn how to be a man?”

  She shook her head.

  I sat across from her. “Think you ought to give your daddy a call?”

  She stuffed her mouth with a spoonful of cereal. All of a sudden, her face get all bunched up. She took a big swallow. “Mama B, this cereal tastes like pieces of cardboard.”

  “Just ‘cause it ain’t smothered in sugar don’t mean it’s nasty. Give yourself a few days to re-train your taste buds, it’ll be all right after while.”

  She shook her head and took another scoop. Must have been hungry because she kept on eating.

  “So, what you think about calling Son?”

  “Mama B, my daddy’s wasn’t there for me. What makes you think he’s gonna be there for my son?”

  I breathed hard, trying to think about how to have this talk with Nikki without bringing up all the past. Lord knows my son and her mother started this whole bunch of mess. Shoot, makes me wonder where Albert and I went wrong with him.

  Chapter 7

  I could tell by the way she avoided my eyes, she really didn’t want to talk about her Daddy. But she needed to think about her son. Since she picked a questionable father for Cameron, she ought to at least be willing to find a good substitute.

  “Your daddy is older now. Got more sense than he did back when you were born. Plus, he never had a boy. This may be his only chance to do all the things men do with younger menfolk in a family. Go fishing, hun
ting. Stuff he didn’t do with his daughters, he can do with Cameron. ”

  She dropped her spoon in the bowl. “And what about Miss Wanda?”

  I rubbed my hand on Nikki’s arm. “You let me handle Wanda. She listens to me. And she’s got more sense, now, too. I reckon your momma does as well. People do grow up and mature after while. Most of ‘em, anyway.”

  Nikky shook her head. “All I know is, Cameron and I have been getting along fine without his father or my father in our lives. You’re the only one in the whole Jackson family I deal with, and that’s fine by me. If I never talk to my father again, I’m good.”

  “Cameron never asks about his grandparents?” I asked her.

  She nodded. “He does, sometimes. And I remind him that he has grandparents. My mom and you. When you send him gifts at Christmas and his birthday, he knows he has family.”

  “He also has aunts and uncles,” I added. “And cousins.”

  She rested her spoon on the rim of the bowl. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you seem to have forgotten that I am the product of an affair. My father, his wife, and my mother—the other woman—have never gotten along and they never will. I’d rather live my life without my father than be treated like a red-headed stepchild every time I’m around him and the rest of my so-called family.”

  There, she’d done it. Thrown it all out on the table like a big, black blob. Ugly, sticky. I gave another sigh.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” she quickly apologized, resuming her meal. She swallowed again. “The rest of them are so distant. You’re the real thing, Mama B. No matter what was going on between my daddy and my momma, you still kept in touch with me all these years. That’s why I knew Cameron and I could come here.” It was her turn to rub my arm now.

  Good Lord, I had almost forgotten the whole point of my conversation. Had to wind it down and switch channels. “Baby, I could never forget about you. You my blood, you mine no matter what happened with my son and the faults he had when he was your age. I’m always here for you.

  “But now we got to talk about your plan for gettin’ back on your feet. You need some help gettin’ a job?”

  She put a hand over her mouth to keep the cereal from spilling out while she laughed.

  I raised an eyebrow ‘cause I didn’t see nothing funny.

  “How you go from telling me how much you love me and you’re always here for me straight to I-gotta-get-out-of-here?”

  “It’s because I love you that you can’t stay here forever. I gives help, not handouts. So, let’s start at the beginning. What you runnin’ from? Got to be more than just a boyfriend.”

  Once she regained her composure, she answered, “J.T.” She inhaled and exhaled again. “OK, here it is. I broke up with him because he started hitting me. Then, like I told you, he and his cousin fired me. I thought that was the worst he could do. But then he started stalking me—following me to job interviews, leaving notes on my car window. He walked Cameron home from school one day. Then when I opened the door to let Cameron in, J.T. rushed inside my apartment and started an argument.

  “He’s crazy, Mama B. I needed to put some space between me and him for a while, so I broke my lease and left.”

  Even though she’d told me a little more, I got the feeling she still hadn’t told me everything. Maybe that’s all she could come to grips with for now. “I sure want you to be prayerful.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a little money in savings, and my car is paid for, so I’m good for now. I plan to give you something on bills and groceries. I just need a break, you know? Raising Cameron is a lot of work.”

  Skin rolled in between her eyebrows and I knew exactly what she meant. When Albert took vacation from work once a year, I would take my vacation, too, and stick him with the kids for at least two or three days just so I could go somewhere and put my feet up. Every mother needs to catch her breath every now and then. “Yeah, Nikki-Nik, I do understand. And I’m glad to help you rest on a few laps of the rat race. But I don’t think it’ll hurt to get a plan goin’ for when you get back in it. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She shrugged. “I hear you. I’ll start looking first thing Monday morning. Give J.T. time to find another girl and get his mind off me before I head back into the city looking for a job.”

  “Sounds like a plan. And in the meanwhile, I’d like you to get up and get some clothes on and come to the food pantry with me today. Help serve lunch to some people less fortunate than you, some of ‘em ain’t got nobody at all to turn to.”

  Cameron come bounding through the door, sweat dripping down his face. “Mama B, it’s a snake out there!”

  “What it look like?”

  “Green and skinny. He about this long.” The short width between his hands showed me the snake was pretty small.

  “That’s just a grass snake. No harm.”

  “Can I catch it?”

  Nikki yelled “no” at the same time I said “yes.” She and I looked at each other.

  “A snake?” she squealed.

  “That’s what boys do,” I filled her in.

  She shivered. “Eew!”

  I turned back to Cameron. “Your grandfather and your great Uncle Otha used to catch grass snakes all the time. Lady next door got a little pond in her back yard, sometimes the snakes wiggle over to our yard.”

  “Who’s uncle Otha?” Cameron wanted to know.

  Shame he didn’t know his own people. “Otha is my other son.

  “Go ‘head and get a mason jar out the cabinet. See if you can’t trap the snake in there. Be careful with it, and be gentle.”

  “What’s a mason jar?” he asked next.

  Nikki laughed. “I’ll get it for you.”

  That girl made me proud. I only wished I could have gotten her in my house one week every summer like I did with the other grands. She might not be a single mother if I’d had the chance to speak into her life. But her Momma kept her at a distance. Can’t say I blame her, though. She thought Son was going to leave Wanda, but Son got a clue before the divorce from Wanda was finalized and decided to try and save his family.

  Poor Nikki got the short end of the stick. But I had a mind to sow whatever good I could into her for whatever bit of time God saw fit to let her and Cameron stay with me.

  I sent Son a text message later on that night. Told him his daughter and grandson was at my house for a spell.

  He sent me one letter back: K.

  Chapter 8

  Friday evening, the Titus 2 wives’ ministry class convened at my house. The leaders, Janice Jamerson and LaTonya Wilcox, got to my house a quarter ‘til seven to get prepared. They supposed to been giving the women a cooking lesson that particular night.

  Sure was glad to see this ministry carrying on. Ophelia and I started it about fifteen years before, when both our husbands was still alive. But since they deceased, we let it pass on to the next generation ‘cause it’s kind of hard to talk to women about problems we ain’t never gonna face no more.

  Plus, me and Ophelia wasn’t as encouragin’ about husbands no more. Used to be we thought if you prayed and cried enough, God would change your husband. It happens sometimes, but we got no such exact promise from Him in the word, and you can’t stand on what God didn’t promise.

  Not sayin’ wives ought to give up on their husbands or their marriages, just sayin’: might be God’s will for you to practice your love walk, learn to keep your joy and peace no matter what while you married in this life, then y’all part ways at the pearly gates. He go his way and you go your way with Jesus.

  Well, that ain’t what the wives want to hear, so Ophelia and I did the right thing by turning it over to Janice and LaTonya. They could keep hope alive better.

  Those two come in with pots and pans and five bags full of groceries plus soda pop, ice and paper plates.

  I kissed them both on their cheeks as they trailed through the doorway.

  “Mama B, you look so nice. Got your little cap
ris and cheetah print top,” LaTonya complimented me.

  Janice added, “Please. She always looks good. Wait a minute. Let me see your glasses.” She put her face all in mine, then hollered out, “Girl, she got cheetah print on the side of her glasses, too.”

  “Go on, Mama B. I ain’t mad atcha,” LaTonya laughed.

  I waved them off. “Y’all come on in here.”

  “How many people y’all expect?” Much food as they had, must have been half the church. Then again, everybody know Janice and LaTonya could cook. They cakes and pies be the first to sell out at the fall festival.

  “Ten or fifteen,” LaTonya said, “but they always want to take a little home to their families so we got a lot more.”

  “Thank you so much for opening up your home to us,” Janice said. “We could have had the class at my house, but since everybody already knows where the church is, it’s just easier to have the meeting here.”

  “No problem. I’m glad to have y’all. What you cooking tonight?”

  “My own special recipe chicken enchilada casserole,” Janice beamed.

  “With turtle brownies,” LaTonya added.

  “Sounds good. How can I help?”

  “Mama B, you sure you want to get your clothes all dirtied up?”

  “Got my apron right here.”

  We got busy washing chicken, dicing onions and tomatoes, grating cheese. Those gals turned my kitchen into one of those TV shows – had everything ready to pour and mix by the time the rest of the wives got there.

  Nikki joined us for the meeting while Cameron sat in the front parlor reading a book I had made…well, encouraged him to get when I took him to the library after me and Libby finished our walk. Had to do something to get him out from in front of the tube. Thank God, the librarian knew exactly what books an 8-year-old boy would want to read. We checked out five that didn’t have all the witchcraft. We brought the books home, and Cameron had been reading a good two hours with no end in sight.

  Around seven-thirty, all the ladies moved into the kitchen to start the lesson. Nikki gave everybody the sheet of paper with the recipes on the front and back, and we all started watching and taking notes. I told them to help theyself to anything they wanted.