Mama B - a Time to Love

by Michelle Stimpson

  At the rate she was goin’, she didn’t need to follow nobody’s rules. She could afford to get her own place and take care of herself.

  Somethin’ wasn’t addin’ up.

  Eunice wasn’t much help putting all the groceries away back at the house. Said her leg was botherin’ her. Since she’d been wearing some pants that Libby brought her, I hadn’t had an opportunity to see what was going on with her. But when I went in to check on her before I took my afternoon nap, I had to keep my composure. Her bad leg had done turned dark brown and was weeping from the pores.

  “Eunice, you got to get to a doctor,” I warned softly, trying not to scare her too bad.

  “It’s only cellulitis. Flares up from time to time.”

  “Has it been this bad before?”

  She shrugged. “Can’t say that it has. But everything gets worse as we get older, right? I’m guessing with the fall and the drugs and all, it might be taking a little longer to get better.”

  I shook my head. “This ain’t healthy. I got a good mind to take you to emergency right now.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Eunice protested, covering that leg with the bed covers, as though her condition would leave my mind if I couldn’t see it any more. “I’ve seen enough doctors this week to last me the rest of the year.”

  “What about your stitches? And your nose?”

  “The doctor said the stitches would dissolve on their own. And once a broken nose is set, all you need to do is let it heal. I’ll take off the face bandages tomorrow.”

  She ‘bout stubborn as my momma was. Couldn’t get her to go see a doctor ‘til it was too late. “Eunice, need I remind you, you ain’t got no medical degree, far as I know. You got no business doctorin’ on yourself.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “When you spend several years married to an abusive alcoholic, you learn to be your own doctor after a while.”

  Eunice grabbed the medicine bottle and half-full glass of water on the night stand. She popped another pill. “I’ll be fine, B. You worry too much.”

  She could set up there and act like her leg was fine all she wanted to, but I knew better. Eunice was sicker than she thought.

  Chapter 13

  Frank wanted to go for a light dinner after our dancing Friday night. I figure since I been up with Eunice ‘til two in the morning, I could extend a similar courtesy to Frank. All those calories we burned on the floor would make up for eating so late.

  Frank picked a steakhouse off of the highway. One I hadn’t ever been to, actually, so I had to study the menu. So many new places popping up near Peasner.

  “What’ll it be?” he asked when I closed the booklet.

  “Believe I’ll have the chicken Caesar.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The waitress came and took our order, leaving us in a familiar spot across from each other. I don’t know what it was about the lighting in that place, but Frank looked awful handsome despite his laid-back clothes. Bald head, brown eyes, smooth skin, shining white dentures. I could see why women might have thrown themselves at him, making a man’s temptations even harder to bear.

  All through our chit-chat as we ordered and waited for our food, I told myself to stop thinking about what Cynthia had said. Whatever Frank done in his past ought to stay there, like they say about Vegas. Still, there was a part of me that wanted to know. What if Frank is some kind of womanizer? What if he makes a fool of me? It would be all my fault because Cynthia did warn me.

  I tried to take everything into account. In the past months, Frank had been nothing but kind to me. Sent flowers, took me dancing, let me take everything as slow as I needed to.

  But he did make a habit of texting me before we talked. Maybe he had to get where he could talk, get away from another woman? Maybe the reason his daughter stopped volunteering at the shelter was because he didn’t want her to see me. Then the enemy got real busy with the accusations. What if his wife didn’t die of a disease – maybe he poisoned her?

  Well, I’d had about enough of giving the devil room in my brain. If I was gonna be in some kind of a more-than-friendship with Frank—IF—I certainly needed to feel like I could be honest with him. “Frank. There’s…something I want to ask you.”

  He swallowed and set his fork on the plate. “Yes?”

  Had to discern how to approach this one. Can’t very well come out and ask a man if he ever cheated on his deceased wife. “You remember Cynthia, from church the other day? She ate with us at Pastor’s table.”

  “Oh yes,” his eyes sparkled with remembrance. “The reverend’s wife.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I confirmed. “Well, she said something to me…something about you and…it bothered me.”

  He sat back, bewildered. “I didn’t know I was so popular. What did she say?”

  “It’s not so much what she said. She hinted that…you had some issues in the past with…faithfulness.”

  The smile slipped from Frank’s face. His eyes dropped.

  Immediately, I knew I had hurt my friend. My heart hurt for him. I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Frank, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s he-said-she-said anyway.” How could I have been so silly?

  He took a deep breath and yanked his gaze back to me. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sure Cynthia was only trying to protect you, and I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to ask me hard questions.”

  Thank God he felt that way because I sure wanted an answer.

  He inhaled. Exhaled again. “Cynthia was correct. There was a period of five years or so, right after I turned fifty, when I thought I was the man. Thought I was God’s gift to black women all over the metroplex. It’s amazing that I don’t run into more relatives or acquaintances of the women I used.”

  My Lord!

  “I was smart, had a prestigious career, made good money. Nobody said ‘no’ to me, except my wife. I was too stupid to know she was only trying to keep me grounded. I thought she was my enemy.”

  Sounded familiar. Plenty good men done fell into that trap.

  “But then Margie began to suffer with Lupus and I realized I could lose the best thing that ever happened to me. None of those women meant what she did. It was like…like that moment when a big flash comes and you hear angels singing Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Like the Lord presented her to me all over again.”

  I smiled at the love Frank obviously had for his wife. I was also grinnin’ because I liked the way Frank didn’t get all huffy and defensive. And he didn’t give me one of them beatin’-around-the-bush lines a lot of men give when you ask how they treated their first wife—“I made some mistakes” or “I wasn’t a perfect husband.” The fact that Frank came at me straightforward said more about the character of the man sitting across from me than anything else.

  “Did your wife know about the other women?”

  “Yes. She found out. It took counseling, some nights on the couch, she threw a few dishes at me…but she took me back. She actually took me back. For the first time, I understood the love of Christ. Through her. Through reconciliation. I never forgot that I had the love of a woman I didn’t deserve. Kept me at her side until her last breath.”

  Chile, I was ‘bout to start cryin’. “She was a wonderful woman of God.”

  “She sure was. You would have loved her,” he nodded with his own eyes watering. “You two have the same sweetness of His Spirit about you.”

  “That’s ‘cause He’s sweet, you know?”

  “Amen and amen.”

  The waiter brought our salads but apologized for leaving our garlic rolls. “I’ll bring them right back.”

  My first thought was to tell him to leave mine since I don’t eat much bread. But then I thought about Eunice. She’d walk a mile on that bad leg for a hot, buttery garlic roll. “Can you wrap mine up so I can take it with me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Frank extended his arms across the table for prayer. We caught hands and he led us. “Fath
er, thank You for being the great lover of our souls. Thank You for Your Son, Jesus. And thank You so much for bringing B into my life. I pray that You would glorify Yourself in this friendship. Teach us and keep us by Your Spirit. And now we bless the food we are about to receive. Thank You for it. Let it nourish our physical bodies as You continue to nourish our souls. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  I whispered, “Amen.”

  Y’all not gon’ believe this. For real. But the second my eyelids parted and looked at Frank again, seem like the scales fell from my eyes. I don’t know exactly how God did it, but He opened up a window from heaven and shined some kind of special light on Frank Wilson before me.

  I just about heard them angels singin’ to me, too: Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

  Chapter 14

  I stayed on cloud nine the rest of the dinner, gazing into his eyes, hanging on every word that flowed from his lips. Frank was smart. And funny!

  He told me about patients with crazy problems, his first surgery, his first lawsuit. Apparently, the malpractice insurance for doctors almost made him quit.

  I think our waiter got mad at us because we was takin’ up the table so long, costin’ him tips. But whatever Frank wrote on that receipt made the young man very happy, so I didn’t feel so bad when we walked out at nearly a quarter ‘til eleven.

  Franked started the car, and I started a conversation I hadn’t imagined I would have before the lightswitch for Frank flipped on in my heart. “What do you think we should do for Thanksgiving next month?”

  He took his hand off the gearshift and stared at me. “Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes. I’d love to spend Thanksgiving with you, seein’ as it looks like we takin’ things a little further.”

  All thirty-two of them…teeth come pointing at me. “B, you’ve made me a happy man tonight.”

  “Right back atcha, Frank.”

  Now, I done watched a whole lotta movies and read a whole lotta books and I knew what was supposed to happen next in these days and times. We was supposed to lean across the armrest and kiss. Not saying I didn’t want to kiss, but I didn’t want to be forward. And Frank was too nice to make the first move, given what I had done already told him about neckin’ and all.

  But I was at a point where I knew I couldn’t keep over-analyzin’ everything. Couldn’t keep comparin’ Frank to Albert, comparin’ 1975 to the twenty-first century.

  Seem like I could almost hear Ophelia sayin’, ‘B, If you want to kiss the man, kiss him.’

  So I hauled off and did it. Pushed my body right toward his, he met me halfway and I smacked him dead on his big lips. Shucky now!

  Soon as it was over, I hopped back on my side of the car like I done somethin’ I wasn’t meanin’ to do, except I did. And I was glad I did. Frank got his nice lips. Soft. And they covered mine completely. For some reason, that made me all jumpy inside.

  “Woman, I didn’t think I’d ever get any sugar from you,” Frank teased.

  “Me, either,” I snickered. I touched my lips with my fingers, savoring the tingle he’d left behind. Still couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. What would…no, I wouldn’t even let myself wonder. For all we knew, Albert and Margie could be holding hands and sitting at Christ’s feet having a praise party that very moment, not studyin’ us at all.

  The delight on Frank’s face spoke all the way home, even though he didn’t have a whole lot of words to say. He played a Smokie Norful CD, a nice mix of old and new songs. When he parked in my driveway, I asked Frank again about Thanksgiving.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot all about it after you tackled me.”

  I gasped. “Frank Wilson, I did not tackle you!”

  He grabbed my hand and kissed the brown side. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

  I yanked my hand from him and set my back against the door, doin’ my best to give him the mean-eye, but it didn’t work. We both started laughing at me. At him. At the whole situation.

  “B, we’d better pray,” Frank prompted.

  “Wonderful.”

  Again, Frank asked the Lord to lead us, guide us, and be glorified in our friendship. He thanked God for both of us being far enough along in our healing to appreciate the new thing He was doing. He thanked God for His perfect timing and asked that He would give us hearts to always honor Him, in Jesus’ name.

  “Amen,” we said together.

  While Frank parlayed around to my side of the car, I grabbed the bag with Eunice’s bread from the back seat. Though I would enjoy surprising her with the treat, a part of me felt bad for contributing to whatever health problems she already had, ‘cause how she eat got somethin’ to do with all her problems, I was sure.

  As Frank escorted me to front door, I got a notion to ask him about Eunice’s leg. After all he said about the malpractice, I wasn’t quite sure he was at liberty to give medical advice off the clock. And I certainly didn’t want him to think Eunice or I was trying to take advantage of his medical expertise. Just that I couldn’t think of no other way to get Eunice help.

  “Frank, Eunice done took off all her bandages and she seems to be fine as far as her arms and nose are concerned. But her leg’s been givin’ her a lot more trouble since she fell. I went in the other day and saw it’s all dark and drainin’. I told her she should go see a doctor, but she won’t listen. You think I ought to call 9-1-1?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “If she won’t go, she won’t go. You can’t make her. If it’s not a life-or-death situation, the paramedics won’t transport her unwillingly.”

  “Okay.” My hands wrung themselves.

  Frank relented. “I could look at her leg, if you want me to. If she’ll let me.”

  “I don’t want to put you in harm’s way, professionally,” I made myself clear.

  “Looking won’t jeopardize anything.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said as I unlocked the front door quickly, before he could change his mind.

  Frank followed me toward the bedrooms. I knocked on Eunice’s door. “Eunice?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Honey, I’ve got Dr. Wilson with me.”

  “It’s about time,” she belted out. “Y’all go on. You won’t bother me.”

  Too embarrassed to look at Frank, I kept my face toward the door. “He says he can look at your leg if you’d like.”

  The bedsprings creaked. “If it’ll make you feel better, he can come in. But I’m telling you both upfront, I’m not going to any hospital.”

  I opened the door. Eunice lay on the bed wearing another one of my muu-muu’s. She’d exposed her leg for Frank to examine. He switched on the lamp so he could get a better look.

  “What’s that you got there in the bag?” Eunice asked me, oblivious to Frank.

  “It’s garlic bread. It came with my meal, but I didn’t want it so I saved it for you. You want me to warm it up?”

  “You know I do,” she cracked a silly-lookin’ grin.

  “First things first, you need to keep it elevated.” Frank had switched into doctor mode, so I figured that was the proper time to get the bread heated up.

  I stopped off at my bedroom and kicked my shoes into the room. Them dancing shoes are comfortable enough, but sometimes my feet swell after being up and out so long. And if you don’t listen to nothin’ else on your body, you gotta listen to your feet ‘cause they won’t hush until you give them what they want.

  I set the bread on a plate and warmed it up for Eunice, then tip-toed on down the hallway so I could hear if Eunice was telling Frank some health information that she hadn’t shared with me. Frank had already told me that whatever a patient tells him in confidence, he can’t reveal without written permission. He was already puttin’ his behind on the line for me. I figured if the time came for me to make Eunice go to the hospital, I wanted to be able to tell them what they needed to know without bothering Frank.

  But, chile, I wasn’t ready for the earful I got when I snuck up to the door.

  “If B�
�s too slow for you, I’m ready and willing,” she mumbled softly. “And I can make myself able for somebody like you.”

  Oh my Lord! My chest pounded. Did she just proposition him?

  Frank’s voice came through, full of confusion. “Are you—”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be, good doctor,” she made a second pass at him.

  I slid back to the kitchen, hardly able to believe what I’d just heard.

  “B, you got that bread ready?” Frank hollered loud and clear.

  “Just about,” I yelled back, trying to train my face real quick.

  I stomped back down the hallway and set the plate on the nightstand. “Here you go, Eunice.”

  “Thank you soooo much, B.”

  Something in me wished I had some kind of powdered poison to put on that bread.

  Frank stood at the doorway. “She definitely needs to get to a doctor as soon as possible. Looks like poor circulation, probably coupled with an infection. This could get in your bloodstream if you’re not careful. But don’t take my word on it—get it from whomever you see. This is all off the record. If they ask me anything, I’ll deny I ever saw your leg.”

  “Yes, off the record,” Eunice repeated, her eyes fixed on Frank’s. “And I’ll deny it, too.”

  I walked Frank to the door. He dusted my cheek with a kiss I barely even felt, thanks to Miss Eunice. He might have been trying to talk to me for a second longer, but I politely kicked him on out the door. “I’ll see you…I don’t know when.”

  “How about you coming to church with me Sunday?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed without even thinking. “That’s fine. We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night.”