We all laughed ‘cause everybody knows how sensitive Cameron is to pain. Boy cried like a baby when he stepped on a sticker one time.
Frank greeted us at the front door. He gave me a quick smack on the lips—in front of my people—which sent Cameron and Lexus into a fit of giggles. They so silly.
“Hey, Baby. Happy Thanksgiving,” Frank said.
“Same to you,” I replied. “Need you to get some more stuff from the car, hon.”
The children took off for the back yard, which was fine for a while. Frank and I took a moment to introduce all our kids to one another. Frank’s got a son, Frank, Jr. and a daughter. I already knew Eva from back when she used to help at the food pantry.
All the kids seemed scared. Fidgety. Like they was lookin’ at a sad movie. I had to remember that they all wished their deceased parent was there instead of me or Frank. We had to give them some time. Help ‘em, Lord.
All the women—my daughters, Wanda, and Frank’s daughter, Eva—got busy preparing things in the kitchen.
Like the rest of Frank’s house, the kitchen was spacious enough so plenty of folk had elbow room. I think he said the whole thing was close to thirty-five hundred square feet. Hardwood floors, custom drapes, built-in shelves and cabinets, artwork with little lights shining at the bottom of the frames, all the stuff you’d expect in a doctor’s house. But with a woman’s eye, I could tell it was a bachelor pad. A little dusty here and there.
Cassandra got close enough to me at the counter to whisper, “He calls you baby?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“That’s pretty sexist, don’t you think?” she hissed.
“No. It’s fine with me.”
She rolled her eyes and left me alone. I left her alone, too. Cassandra always been a sensitive child. I can’t tell her to butt out of my business as sharp as I do Son ‘cause she would take it to heart.
Took a while, but the uneasiness in the kitchen died down as we finished making preparations. Moving in and out of each other’s paths, washing each other’s pots, passing spoons, taking tastes of this and adding a pat of that always has been the way women end up bonding. Food bring folk together when nothing else will.
When we finally finished and had the table set with the dishes Frank told us to use, I had to congratulate them. “Ladies, looks like we’ve done a wonderful job.”
They all agreed.
Eva got a little teary-eyed. “We haven’t had a big dinner like this here in the house since my mom died. These were her favorite dishes.”
Debra Kay put her arm around Eva’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Your mother had lovely taste,” I said to Eva.
Eva composed herself. “Yes, she did. Thank you, Mama B, for acknowledging her today.”
“Mmm hmmm.” I rubbed Eva’s arm. I knew what it was to lose a mother, too.
She wiped the last stray tear away. “Should we call in the men and kids?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I seconded.
We had a time getting everybody washed up. Cassandra’s grandson, Ricky, had done split his britches right up the middle, playing on the trampoline. I had to beg mercy to keep him from gettin’ popped. “Cassandra, it ain’t his fault he’s growin’ like a weed.”
Another grandchild spared.
Though we had the kids’ tables set up in the kitchen area, everybody gathered around the dining room table for prayer first. There was more food on that table than anybody’s eyes could take in, let alone stomachs—turkey, chicken, ham, dressing, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, green beans. You name it, we just about had it.
Me and Frank stood at the head, with all our family gathered around, holding hands. Once we were all in place, I bowed my head, waiting for Frank to bless the food.
“Wait a second,” Frank brought things to a halt. “Before we say the prayer, there’s something I’d like to say.”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. The room fell silent.
“Actually, it’s more something I’d like to ask.” Next thing I knew, Frank was gliding down to one knee.
All the women in the room whooped and hollered. The kids whispering, “What’s happening? What is he doing?”
Matter of fact, my first thought was, “Did his knee give out on him?”
That was, until he flipped open a red box and presented me with a ring. Three round-cut diamonds and smaller ones on the shank. Shining like he spent a pretty penny, but dainty enough to fit my style. Chile, this man had been studyin’ me.
“Beatrice, will you marry me?”
My eyes blurred up with tears that fell onto his hands. “Yes, Frank. I’ll marry you.”
He grabbed the handle on a chair and pushed himself back into a standing position, both knees popping.
“Be careful, honey,” I cautioned.
He was slow gettin’ back up, but once he did, we hugged, rocking back and forth while all grands and great-grands got to hoppin’ and hollerin’ and the adults clapped.
“I love you, B.”
“I love you, too, Frank.”
The dinner was lovely. Everybody ate ‘til they couldn’t eat no more, and then took some home. The menfolk surprised us by cleaning up after everybody. Now that’s a new tradition I could sure get behind.
My kids headed back to my house. Me and Frank decided we wanted to get out together for a spell and see some of our friends. Plus, we needed a moment to ourselves.
I said my good-bye’s to Eva, Frank, Jr., and the rest of my future in-laws.
We were still stuffed when we rolled into his car and took the highway back to Peasner. Ophelia had already invited us to drop by since they were eating late. And by “they”, I mean her family, Henrietta’s small family, and Pastor.
On the way to Ophelia’s, I quizzed Frank about how long he had been planning this, how he knew my ring size, everything a woman wants to know when she gets engaged.
Turns out, a lot of them knew of Frank’s intentions already, and that was only right, seeing as he was gonna ask me to marry him in the house their mother picked out and decorated.
He’d gotten Son’s blessing ahead of time, too. Not that he needed Son’s approval, but that’s one thing about Frank: He do things real respectful-like. He honors people, and that makes people honor him in return.
I’m just surprised the secret didn’t make it back to me beforehand.
“I had help,” he admitted. “Debra Kay is all in your business, you know?”
“She sure is,” I had to agree.
The trees lining the highway displayed the most magnificent fall colors; hues only God Himself could have arranged for our eyes to see. “Look at those trees. God is amazing,” I gawked.
“Wonderful,” Frank added, “awesome.” His hand slipped across the console, pulling mine into a comfortable clasp.
I used my free hand to check out the notification from my phone. It was a text from Paul. I opened it to find a picture of him and Eunice sitting at a table. “Me and my mom,” was the caption. Brought tears to my eyes yet again as I shared it with Frank.
He stole a quick glance at my phone’s screen. “Wow. That’s wonderful.”
“Mmm hmm. We make a pretty good team in the Lord if I do say so myself.”
He squeezed my hand in agreement.
Unfortunately, the closer we got to Ophelia’s the more I felt an attitude licking up my spine. Henrietta. I knew she was gon’ have somethin’ negative to say about the engagement.
“Let me go on and apologize ahead of time for whatever Henrietta might say,” I said as we walked toward Ophelia’s porch. “I don’t know why she’s made it her life’s goal to make me miserable.”
“I’ve seen it a thousand times, B. When someone is sick or hurting or not completely in their right mind, they take out all their anger and frustration on the person they know loves them and won’t reject them. It’s human nature,” he explained. “Take it as a compliment.”
On Frank’s advice, I ignored Hen
rietta’s snide remarks as best as I could. We didn’t really sit down and give her a chance to go all in, just stood up in the living room where they was all seated and announced the engagement.
After all the huggin’, you know Ophelia’s question. “When y’all gon’ tie the knot?”
“We ain’t got that far yet,” I covered.
But Frank voiced, “The sooner the better.”
“Fast as hotcakes,” Henrietta gibbered.
I took a deep breath, walked over to Henrietta and threw the biggest bear hug she ever did get. “I love you and there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it, you hear?”
Her eyes got all bugged out. That caught her off guard. She didn’t have nothin’ else smart to say. Ha!
We didn’t stay long because it was getting dark already. The drive back to my house was short, but long enough for me to take a long, hard stare at the man sitting across from me and think about the future we would have together. We had a lot to work through, I knew. Like whose house was we gon’ live in, whose church we gon’ go to, how to change up the wills and so forth. Gettin’ married at our age ain’t as easy as folk think it is if you got two pennies to rub together.
But I wasn’t worried. Just like Frank always said, God works everything out for those who love Him. And we both certainly did.
~
Here’s an excerpt from
Mama B: A Time to Mend (Book 4 in the Award-Winning Mama B Series!)
Prologue
“Frank Wilson, do you take this woman, Beatrice Jackson, to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold…” Pastor Phillips ran down the list of vows.
My knees was shakin’ something awful, like I ain’t never been down the aisle before! As I was standin’ there, gettin’ ready to link my life with Frank’s in holy covenant, I did think about Albert lookin’ down from heaven. I know he would be happy for me, but he would still give Frank the side-eye.
“I do,” Frank answered.
“And Beatrice Jackson, Mama B,” Pastor teased, “do you take Frank Wilson to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold…” That sure is a long list, I thought to myself as he named off all the stuff I was promisin’ to do. Somehow, my list seemed longer than Frank’s. Still, I agreed, “Yes.”
“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. Frank, you may now kiss the bride.”
Our guests clapped and oooooh-ed as Frank lifted the mini-veil from my face. That veil was Ophelia’s idea. When she and Pastor popped up with their fly-by-night wedding ceremony, she put on a veil and had the nerve to wear a white dress, too. She said she never had a real wedding and this was her last shot, so she was going to do what all she wanted to do. I told her I ain’t had no business coverin’ my face like a woman who hadn’t never been kissed, but when it came down to the moment, I was glad I had listened to Ophelia.
When I got a clear view of Frank’s smooth, round, deeply brown skin, I noticed his eyes glistening. Of course, I started tearing up, too, ‘cause we knew this marriage was a big gift from God to both of us. When you lose your first spouse, it’s hard to move on. You think can’t nobody ever take that person’s place, and you’re right. But somebody can start a new place in your heart.
We kissed real short-like, which was something we had already discussed ahead of time. No need in making people feel uncomfortable. Our kids and grandkids was in the audience, for goodness sake. Folks was already callin’ me a cougar ‘cause I was 73 and Frank was seven years my junior.
Me and Frank saved all our serious kissin’ for later. One of his doctor friends gifted us a hotel room in San Antonio at the Riverwalk. We drove down as soon as we left our reception in the fellowship hall. Bags was already in Frank’s SUV! Chile, we waved good-bye at those folk, hopped right in the vehicle, and headed for the highway—Frank drivin’ like a bat out of you-know-where.
We laughed and talked about the ceremony. It wasn’t a big wedding, just the family and friends who were able to make it early on a Saturday morning. We did it that way more so they could all meet each other. Being married really ain’t about the ceremony, you know.
Anyhow, when we got to San Antonio, Frank checked us into the hotel room. I thought, with the way he put the pedal to the metal, we might get straight to the business. But we didn’t. We went for a walk, hand-in-hand. Slow. Strolling along the river. The weather was so nice, we ate outside.
“You look beautiful, B,” he complimented. “I feel like the most blessed man in the world.” His compliment went a long way as we waited for our food.
He kissed the palm of my hand and I dern near fainted from the heat rising up in me. Part of me felt ashamed. I hadn’t never been with nobody intimate-like except my first husband, and he had been gone on to heaven for nine years. What if I went slamp crazy back in that hotel room?
Ophelia’s words of wisdom rushed back to me. While in the women’s restroom, just before I walked down the aisle, Ophelia had cornered me. “B, I know it’s been a while since you did the bedroom backstroke, but don't be in no hurry. Your body ain’t quite the same as it used to be. This will help, though,” she’d whispered as she slipped a plastic tube into my hand. “I call it lady lotion.” She raised her eyebrows and tilted her forehead toward me. “And it ain’t for your arms and legs.”
I understood. Made double-sure to drop it in my purse so I wouldn’t leave it behind.
Now, I ain’t one to go into all my private business, but I will say this: Every gift from God is good indeed.
And the gift from Ophelia came in handy, too.
Chapter 1
I was having a hard time saying good-bye to my house. Even though most of my clothes and necessary items was in Frank’s house and I spent every night there, I still didn’t think of his home as my home, too. We was goin’ on two months of being married, and more often than not, I felt like a guest in that big ol’ house.
Of course, Frank gave me free reign. Told me I could bring in whatever I wanted. He told me if I wanted to throw something out, he would just appreciate if I let him know. Frank said if he didn’t really want it, he’d let his children know ‘cause they might want it. We was both tryin’ real hard to be respectful of our kids. It’s hard on them when a parent gets remarried. Probably feels like a lot of their good memories are passing away into the wide blue yonder.
Frank’s work schedule left me home alone for most of the day, which was right up my alley. Lord knows I can’t have nobody around me all day every day. I likes to clean, wash, and take care of all my other routines in peace and quiet. I don’t know what I’m gon’ do when he retires from medical practice. Guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get there.
Anyway, I was sittin’ home in the kitchen one morning. I had already cleaned up the dishes from making breakfast, and Frank was already gone to work. It was just me and the Lord at the table in our quiet time, which I’m glad don’t change no matter where I stay.
Somebody come beatin’ on the back door. “Doctor Frank! Doctor Frank!”
My first thought was to call 9-1-1 because anybody who done made it to the back door done already trespassed the fence. But they had a desperate sound in their voice, so I decided to investigate first.
I tightened my robe around my waist and shuffled across the hardwood floors as I unfastened the rag on my head and allowed my gray curls some breathing room. I passed the second living area and asked, “Who is it?”
“It is Jeffrey Allen!”
“Jeffrey who?”
“Jeffrey Allen. Dr. Frank, there is a car in your driveway!”
I peeked out the window blinds and saw the profile of a boy who was probably about twelve or thirteen years old. White. Brown hair. Camoflauge t-shirt with blue jeans. “Honey, Dr. Frank ain’t here.”
“Can you tell him there is somebody at his house,” Jeffrey pleaded.
I knew then, there was something wrong with this boy. If I just said, “Okay,” and he walked away, ain’t no tellin
’ where he might end up.
I opened the door and got a good look at him. He was no taller than me, with the cutest little freckles and braces. “Jeffrey, I’m Mrs. Wilson.” I held out my hand.
He shook my hand but scratched his head with his other hand. “I thought Mrs. Wilson was dead?”
Lord, help this boy. “Dr. Wilson’s first wife is gone on to heaven. I’m his second wife. I’m the new Mrs. Wilson.”
“But if you are Mrs. Wilson—”
“Baby, Just call me Mama B,” I put an end to his confusion.
He shivered in the morning chill.
“Come inside,” I welcomed him. God knows if my oldest, Son, was there, he’d have a hissy fit about me letting in a total stranger. But I couldn’t let the boy freeze to death. Besides, I figured I could take him down with a kick in the leg if I needed to.
He followed me back to the kitchen. I picked up my cell phone. “Do you know your home phone number?”
“214-555-1634.”
I dialed and waited for an answer. “Yes, this is Beatrice Ja—Wilson and I’ve got Jeffrey here at my house.”
“Where is he?” the woman asked with concern in her voice.
“You know where Silver Oaks Drive is—Dr Frank Wilson’s house?”
“Yes. We live on that same street.”
“Great. Well, come on over. We’re at 2304, Dr. Frank’s address. I’m his new wife, Beatrice.”
“Oh,” she sighed, “I see. I’m sorry, I’ll be right over to get him.”
“No problem. We’ll be here waitin’.”
I ended the call and motioned for Jeffrey to take a seat.
He sat, staring at my Bible and notepads. “Is this a school?”
“In a way,” I laughed. “I study the Bible, the word of God, every morning. Kind of like going to church.”
“Oh.” He looked around, taking in the kitchen. The shiny silver appliances held his attention the longest. I got the feeling he’d never actually been inside Frank’s house. “What is that smell?”
“Breakfast,” I said. “You hungry?”
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