Catching Moondrops (18 page)

Miss Cleta shook her head weakly. “You do beat all.”

“You wouldn't like me so much if I didn't.”

She smiled and put her other hand on my face. “I don't want to see that doc in town.”

“Then we'll take you in to the hospital,” Gemma chimed in on her way to the kitchen.

“That's too far away. Don't want to make that trip, especially when they'll just tell me I'm fine except for gettin' old.”

Gemma came back with a glass of water for Miss Cleta. “But we ain't got no other choices. It's the hospital or the doc.”

“That ain't so.” I glared at Gemma over my shoulder. “We got Tal Pritchett with us, Miss Cleta. He was havin' breakfast with us when Nate came.”

Miss Cleta took the water in her shaky hand and sipped twice before saying, “Well, that sounds right fine. Isn't that just the way the good Lord works? I hear tell Doc Pritchett fixed Peeboe the milkman's bursitis up in two weeks flat.”

“He's a colored doctor,” Gemma argued like Tal wasn't even in the room.

“So?”

“So, last I looked your skin was white as paper.”

“Gemma Teague, I ain't got need of you to tell me what color I am.”

“But, Miss Cleta, you can't have a colored doctor work on you. It just ain't done.”

Miss Cleta struggled to sit up straight, but she managed. And she managed to shoot Gemma some daggers while she was at it. “Seems to me there was a day a body could've said it weren't done for a white family to take in a brown girl, but that happened, now didn't it?”

I grabbed Miss Cleta's hand tighter, so grateful at times for her hardheaded determination. “If that's what you want, that's what you'll get.” I waved Tal over from his post by the door. “This here's Tal Pritchett, Miss Cleta.”

He knelt beside Miss Cleta and smiled at her. “You sure you're fine with me treatin' you, Miss Cleta?”

“So long as you ain't no witch doctor, I got me no complaints.”

He laughed and patted her hand. “No, ma'am. I ain't no witch doctor. Ain't got me no spells or potions or nothin'.”

“Well then, get on with it.” Miss Cleta closed her eyes, her white face creased in discomfort though she persisted in playing at wellness. “But you'll find there's nothin' wrong with me at all. Just a bunch of fuss over nothin'. Y'all are gonna be stuck here till all hours over some silly worryin'.”

“Don't matter to me none how late I'm here,” I said. “It's my day to work here, anyhow, remember?”

“You got to sleep tonight, ain't you?”

I narrowed my eyes at her and played tough. “Now, Miss Cleta, I ain't goin' nowhere today or tonight, or tomorrow for that matter, so long as you ain't well. You may just as well get that through your stubborn head. Way I see it, we got two choices. We can make the best of it, or you can be bullheaded and make us all miserable while we're here.”

One of her eyes opened, giving me a vicious glare all on its own, but I knew she was having to try hard to keep her lips from curling up. She liked my stubbornness, and no matter her stony face, I knew her thoughts were softer.

She closed her eye again, settling her head more deeply into the cushion attached to the wooden rocker. “You're a mulish sort, Jessilyn Lassiter.”

“Yes'm. In that way, I think I take more after you than I do my own momma.”

That smile of hers crept out of its hiding place, and she rubbed my arm with a worn hand. “Anyways, ain't nothin' wrong here that can't be cured with an aspirin and a good night's sleep.”

I noticed that magazines sat on the floor next to Miss Cleta's chair, an empty teacup on the table behind her. If you ever had tea with Miss Cleta, you knew you'd best hang on to that cup until you'd finished every last drop or else she'd swipe it and have it cleaned before you could blink. That was her way, neat as a pin and quick on the draw.

That dirty teacup told me more than words could.

“Well, if that's all you need, I imagine the doc'll give it to you. Meantime, there ain't no harm in gettin' looked at.”

Tal put his hand on my shoulder. “Reckon you best leave me to it, then.”

“I'll wait just outside. You tell me if you need anythin'.” I started for the front door, but then I looked back at Miss Cleta. “And you do as he says, hear? Don't you go givin' the doc a hard time so he don't never want to come back here again.” I glanced at Gemma. “In fact, he and Gemma are fixin' to be married, so you best be extra good to him 'cause he's family now.”

Gemma's eyes teared up at that, but there wasn't time to say a word before Miss Cleta hooted louder than any sick old woman should ever do. “Land's sake, if that ain't news! Don't nobody tell me nothin' no more?”

I dug my fists into my hips. “Don't go hollerin' at me, Miss Cleta. I told you more'n once I figured Gemma liked the new doc.”

“You didn't tell me she liked him enough to marry him.”

“Well, I didn't know that until just yesterday.”

Miss Cleta pursed her lips. “Next time you keep me in the loop, you hear?”

“Yes'm.” I sighed. “But I still say I told you all I knew to tell.”

She waved me off and then grabbed Gemma's arm to tug her close. “Come here and give me a squeeze, child. Ain't nothin' to brighten an old woman's day like news of a weddin' for two fine people.” She embraced Gemma and gave her a kiss that left a lipstick mark on her cheek. Then she looked at Tal. “I may not know you yet, but I figure any man who wins this girl's heart must be a fine one at that.” She looked around at us with a sigh. “Well, you see there, now I feel good as new. All I needed was some good news, and here I have it. You may as well head on out.”

“Oh no you don't.” I threw out my arm to block the doorway. “He ain't goin' nowhere. You're lettin' the doc look at you, and that's all there is to it. I'll be on the porch with Luke.”

Miss Cleta opened her mouth to argue, but she didn't have a chance to utter a word before Gemma stuck a thermometer in her mouth.

Luke and I waited outside, and I folded my arms against a chill that suddenly bit into me even though it was hot as hades. “I'm worried about Miss Cleta.”

“She's a tough lady.”

“But she ain't no spring chicken. She don't look right, and she ain't baked or cleaned up like usual lately, neither.” I sat in one of the rockers made by Miss Cleta's late husband, smoothing my hands over the wooden arms. “Sully knew how to make a comfortable chair,” I murmured. “Miss Cleta's right.” I'd heard her rave about his woodworking skills so often, I felt that I'd known him, and her words ringing in my head made tears prick at my eyes.

Luke crouched in front of me and took my hands in his. “She's gonna' be fine, Jessilyn. That doctor will fix her up better'n ever. You watch.”

He'd comforted me a million times since I first laid eyes on him, but I loved how his way of comforting had changed since then. His words were much the same, but his ways weren't, and I had to bite my lip to keep the tears at bay now that his eyes spoke volumes of sympathy.

“Aw, Jessie, don't cry.” He reached up to wipe away the tear I'd let slip out. “Miss Cleta wouldn't like it, anyhow. You know what she always says. It takes more time to cry over a problem than it does—”

“To fix it. I know. But there ain't nothin' I can do to fix this problem.”

He leaned down to kiss the top of my right hand, and then his voice came out so light, I could barely hear him. “We could pray over it.”

I looked down at him even though his eyes weren't visible to me, but I didn't know what to say. I suppose it should have warmed my heart to hear him say such things. After all, the best people in my life had a faith in God unlike anything I'd ever known. But then, that was why it bothered me to hear it from Luke, because for those early years together, we had shared the same apprehension about the faith that my momma and daddy, Gemma, and Miss Cleta had in common. We had been in it together, him and me.

He knew good and well it made my nerves ache to hear such things from him. The air between us became too thick for comfort, no matter that it was true Miss Cleta needed prayer. His hands slipped away from mine, and he stood up slowly and leaned against the porch railing. We stayed there in the quiet for quite some time, neither of us willing to break the heavy silence.

Eventually I stood and peered through the screen. “He's listenin' to her heart, and she ain't raisin' a bit of a fuss.”

He came to stand beside me. “That ain't good.” We watched side by side while Tal listened, then jumped out of sight when Miss Cleta glanced our way.

We sat back down and rocked on that porch, the tension building as time passed with no word. Then Luke got up and stretched. “Can't sit no more.”

“You nervous?”

He ran a hand through his hair before turning to me. I could see he was trying to keep me from getting scared again, but he couldn't lie, either, so he just avoided the question altogether. “She's in good hands.”

“I know that well enough, Luke Talley. That don't mean there ain't cause for worry.”

He shrugged and leaned out over the porch rail. I got up and put one hand on his shoulder, leaning my weight against him. “It's times like these you realize how much a body means to you. I swear, she's like my own kin.”

He moved his arm around my waist and pulled me tight. “Things'll be fine. You'll see.”

The squeak of the door opening caught our attention, and we turned to see Gemma peering through the doorway. “Look at you cuddlin' on the porch while Miss Cleta's in there sick and lowly.”

“Ain't nobody sick and lowly in here, Gemma Teague,” Miss Cleta said from behind her. “And there ain't never a day I want people to stop livin' their lives on my account.”

All three of us jumped to attention at the sound of her voice, and Gemma gave her a submissive “Yes'm.”

“Miss Cleta, what're you doin' up?” I hurried to the door and looked inside. “Where's the doctor? You didn't knock him out or anythin', did you?”

“Don't be ridiculous! He's in the kitchen, mixin' up some sort of tonic or somethin'. Says it'll help me feel right nice. Don't know why I got to take a tonic, though. He already made me take a pill. Maybe he
is
a witch doctor.”

Tal came back in with a short glass. “Just some herbs to settle your stomach, Miss Cleta. My momma's recipe. I've used it for years.”

She took the glass with a wrinkled-up expression. “Y'all best come on in.” She waved her hand inside and then shuffled back to her chair. “If I collapse and die from drinkin' this potion, least I'll have some company.”

Gemma went to straighten the cushion behind her head, but Miss Cleta shooed her away.

We all stood by watching as she took a drink of that tonic, like we were waiting to see if she'd double over in a seizure from it or something. She finished one good, long swig and gasped for air. “This tastes like manure.” Then she pinched her nose and finished the thing in two long gulps before setting the glass down with a clatter. “Tal Pritchett, you tell your momma she needs to work on flavorin' that conconction. The taste alone could put a body six feet under.” She nodded at me. “Doc says he's comin' back this evenin', but I think it's bullheaded nonsense. Nonetheless, he says it's either that or the hospital so they can poke and prod.”

Tal shook his head at her. “Miss Cleta, I figure you're just fine and well. I ain't got no worries about you. All's I'm sayin' is I ain't God, and just 'cause I think you're fine don't mean I shouldn't keep an eye on you. You'll have Jessie with you here today like always, and I can come back later and see how you're doin'. I won't be at peace if I don't.” He nodded toward Gemma. “I spoke with Gemma, too, and we'd both feel best if she stayed the night with you tonight.”

Miss Cleta waved a hand in front of her face like she was swatting a pesky fly. “Nonsense! I'll be good as new by then, I told you.”

Gemma crossed her arms, ready for battle. “It ain't like I can't sleep on your sofa just as well as I can in my bed. That way, I'll be nearby if you need somethin', and I can keep some supplies here so we can keep an eye on your blood pressure and whatnot.”

Miss Cleta sighed, but she gave in without a fight, a testimony to the fact that she wasn't quite convinced she was okay.

Her resignation worried me, and I knelt in front of her to take her hand. “It'd make me feel better too, Miss Cleta.”

“Well, least I got me a doctor who can admit he ain't God,” she remarked. “If you're determined to, you may as well, Gemma. I'd be right grateful if you'd stay on tonight. But you won't be sleepin' on no sofa. I got me a spare room with a fine bed in it that Sully made with his own two hands. You'll sleep a good many winks in there, and there won't be no reason for you to be tendin' to me in the middle of the night, I can tell you that. I'll give you the same pay I give Jessilyn.”

Gemma got into battle stance again. “Oh no, ma'am, you won't. I won't take pay.”

“Gemma Teague, are you in the medical profession or not?”

“I'm only an assistant.”

“There ain't no
only
about it. You're an assistant to the doc, and you're stayin' here to help me; that means you get paid sure and simple. There's no fightin' about it.”

Gemma's face turned two shades of pink, and Miss Cleta put up a hand to stop her. “Don't argue with an ornery old woman who just drank the potion of hell, child. It won't profit you none.” She stared Gemma down for a second to make sure she didn't try a rebuttal and then snapped her feeble fingers to get Luke's attention. “As for you, Luke Talley, you can come on back here at five o'clock and walk Jessilyn home. I don't like her walkin' off by herself, and I ain't got it in me to worry today.”