Mama B - A Time to Mend (Book 4) (10 page)

“You think I’d let her run a
palm-readin’ business and have Satan-worshippin’ parties in here?”

“No, but all of that is…you
know…”

“It’s sin! Now, I ain’t
askin’ Ida Mae to be perfect ‘cause
I
ain’t perfect and
I
lived
in this house. But I don’t want her carryin’ on no sinful
lifestyle
in
here any more than I’d want her to move in a statue of Buddha!”

Son bucked his eyes at me.
“Momma, you cannot regulate your tenant’s lifestyle. As long as she’s not
breaking the law, you can’t control what she does or whom she allows to visit.”

“I know I can control how
many nights her visitors can stay without being added to the lease,” I said,
crossing my arms. “How about that?”

“Are you going to sit outside
every night and count the number of nights Earl stays over or Khalia and Leah
drop by to say hello to Aunt Ida Mae?”

“I would never question Ida
Mae’s twins coming by,” I huffed.

Son shook his head. “Listen,
the lease is a done deal. There are no stipulations on guests. We can’t go back
in and amend it after she’s already signed.”

“But Earl ain’t got no
business spendin’ nights here and I don’t like the idea of you all misusing
what the Lord blessed me and Albert with. Your father would turn over in his
grave if he knew what Ida Mae was trying to do with his hard-earned home. This
is a disgrace to our family property, Son! Don’t you see that?” My emotions got
the best of me as tears came pouring out of my eyes.

Son smacked his lips. “Momma,
don’t cry. You’re acting as though this is the end of the world.” He opened his
arms for a hug.

I didn’t reciprocate. I
tapped his chest with my index finger. “You be sure and tell Ida Mae I will not
be renewing her lease. I’ll sell this house and get mine and Albert’s name off
it before I sign up on this shackin’ business again.”

“We are not selling the
house,” Son stated.

“Ain’t no
we
. It’s
my
decision. She got one year to stay here and live however, do whatever she want
in this house. After that, I’m shuttin’ it down and I’m gonna put it on the
market. That’s what your father would have preferred over turning it into a
cheap motel.”

Son shook his head. He pulled
his checkbook from his jacket pocket and flipped to a fresh note. He filled it
out, tore it off and handed it to me. “Here’s your first month’s rent and
deposit from Aunt Ida Mae. Maybe after you get a taste of the regular income
this house can bring, you’ll realize it’s not a
church
. It’s a
house
.
And she signed a
legal
document, a
lease
.”

I was about one second away
from poppin’ him on the back of the head, talkin’ to me like I didn’t know
English.

“I understand the facts, Son.
Maybe ‘cause you been married and in your own house for so long, this is just a
house
to you. But it was my
home
until a few months ago. I was
there when your Daddy went the city and registered this land. When he went to
the lumberyard and the stone company and met with the floorin’ man to get this
house built. We
prayed
for the money to buy this house. We saved and
scrimped and sacrificed for years. I know you young folk so far in debt these
days, y’all don’t know what it’s like to do that no mo’. Y’all got too much
stuff comin’ too easy, if you ask me.

“Anyway, I’m not gonna argue
with you. She got
one
year.” I walked out of my house knowing like this
was the last time I would ever feel like it was my house.

I went back to my car and
cried like a newborn baby.

Chapter 13

Since Ida Mae moved in,
Libby’s house became the starting and ending point for mine and Libby’s walks.
We even came up with a new route so as I wouldn’t have opportunity to see Ida
Mae’s situation at my house.

Libby was about the only one
who understood what I was going through. We had done got into the habit of
walking, then packing up her house for the move. She said they was puttin’
their place on the list for government shelter because things was too iffy
still with Peter. She wasn’t ready to sell.

She panted as we kept a
brisk, steady pace. “I hate that some bad things might happen in our house,
too, but we can’t control what other people do, B. Can’t judge ‘em either. So
long as they’re still breathin’, God’s still got hope in ‘em.”

Hope for Ida Mae, Lord?
“When folks is twenty and
thirty doin’ and actin’ silly, it don’t bother me none. Fifty is when I start
lookin’ at people like they ought to know better ‘cause by that time, you done
seen two generations of life. You done seen plenty reapin’ and sowin’, and you
done been around the block enough times to know that in the long run, doin’
wrong don't never turn out right.”

My feet seemed lighter that
day as me and Libby turned the corner heading back to her house.

“Maybe she don’t think it’s
wrong to live with her boyfriend,” Libby said. “A lot of people don’t know.”

“Naaah. She know. When
Henrietta said something to her about it at the Mother’s Board meeting, she
lied. Said Earl was just visitin’.”

“Ida Mae is on the Mother’s
Board?”

I pumped my arms hard for the
last three houses. “No way, Jose. She ain’t even a member of the Mt. Zion, but
for some reason, she want to be friends with us.”

“Hmph. Sounds to me like the
Lord’s reeling her in,” Libby suggested. “Some of us come early, some of us
come late, you know?”

I know this is gonna sound
ugly, but at that moment, the last person I wanted to see in heaven was Ida
Mae. Not ‘cause I didn’t want her to make it in, but because what if me and her
had to sit by each other in the heavenly choir? I don’t need her pokin’ me,
sayin’, “B, you remember how mean I used to treat you? Ha! Ha! Ha!”

That ain’t funny.

Stop it, B.

“Lord Jesus, help me,” I
prayed in response to His order.

Libby jumped into the
conversation, “What’s the problem between you two anyway?”

“She never liked me,” I
readily answered.

“Did you ever like her?”

We slowed, approaching
Libby’s driveway. I had to think about the question.
Did I ever, ever like
Ida Mae?

“It’s taking you too long to
answer, so the answer must be ‘no’,” Libby concluded. “Sounds to me like you
two got some underlying problems.”

“Maybe so.”

Of course, I couldn’t speak
no more on it at the moment because this the kind of thing I got to talk to God
about. Ask Him to show me where I been wrong, first. Then He’d show me how to
take it from there or if He would finish it up without me.

So we went on in the house
and continued the plan for Libby’s house-packing. Peter wandered into the
kitchen three times while me and Libby was sittin’ at the table. All three
times, he greeted me like it was his first time seeing me that day.

Libby broke down and cried again
on my shoulder. All I could do was quote the Word. “Libby, the Lord said He
would never leave us nor forsake us.”

Times like those, the only
thing we got to stand on is what He promised.

I knew better than to get
into a deep conversation about Ida Mae’s situation with Frank. Since me and him
don’t see eye-to-eye on exactly how the grace of God works, I already knew he
would side with Son and say, “Honey, this rent situation is about money, not
morals.”

I guess it’s somethin’ about
men—they can separate their emotions from everything else and just
operate on the facts. Maybe that’s why back in the olden days, the men was
called to handle all the huntin’ and killin’ and stonin’ folks while the women
stayed home and loved on the children. I know for a fact I wasn’t wired for
separating my emotions and feelings from business decisions. I done too many
heads of hair on credit and never saw a dime. But deep down inside, I know God
repaid ‘cause my heart was always in the right place.

And speaking of my heart, it
was still set on helping Jeffrey directly and still helpin’ Julia indirectly. I
kept on feedin’ him and sending food back by him. They kept up their end,
sending back my dishes. I was quite proud of myself for not breaking Frank’s
trust. I was also happy to see the Lord’s joy in Jeffrey. He liked the
scriptures, and He was intrigued by hearing me pray over the meal.

I stayed out of the situation
with Son and Ida Mae, too. Didn’t even bring it up when Ida Mae came to the
Mother’s Board meeting. According to Ophelia, Ida Mae had also showed up a few
times at church. Even gave offering once. I didn’t busy myself worryin’ about
Ida Mae. So long as Son transferred her money to me on the first, which he did
again in November, I wasn’t gonna worry about her. Every month was one month
closer to the end of her lease.

Whatever the Lord was doing
in Ida Mae, that was between Him and her. And God was softening my heart to not
be so mad about how she was always such a wedge between me and Albert. Part of
that was Albert’s fault, rest his soul. Wasn’t no need in me hangin’ on to my
bad feelings now.

Sometime in the second week
of November, I was sitting, eating French toast with Jeffrey, helping him
memorize a scripture, when he hauled off and made a big announcement. “Julia is
gone.”

I figured he meant she must
have got the cast off and started driving again. “Oh? They removed the cast?”

“She
is
gone.”

By this time, I’d spent so
much time with Jeffrey, I knew how to read between his lines. “You mean she
don’t live at your house?”

“Yes.”

Jeffrey tore into his third
piece of bread.

We sat in silence while the
news sank into my head. “Where did she go?”

“Away.”

“When?”

“Today. She said to go to
Mama B and stay.”

Goodness, the woman just left
this morning.

My first mind said to go down
to the Allen house and see if Jeffrey’s story was true. But then I remembered
Frank’s wishes. I couldn’t go. I’d have to pull more out of Jeffrey, which was
a matter of asking the right questions.

“How do you know she’s gone?”

“She had clothes in her
suitcase, I watched her but she did not know I watched her. She was mad. And
she left.”

“Mad at who?”

“Mad at Dad.”

Now we’re getting somewhere.
“When did she get mad at
your dad?”

Jeffrey studied my ceiling,
like he was waiting for the answer to drop out of the sky. Then he looked at me
again. “A lady came. To see the house. She had paper and two yellow pencils.
And she asked me questions.”

“Then what happened?”

“She said we must clean up.”

Social services.

 “The lady left. Julia
and Dad were screaming. And Julia left today. Like my other mother.”

“Uh huh.”

Jeffrey’s lower lip began to
tremble.

“Must have been scary, huh?”
I whispered.

He nodded.

“Mama B, can we pray?”

“We most certainly can.”

One thing about Jeffrey: He
sure liked the idea of talking to the One who created Him.

I couldn’t very well send
Jeffrey back home knowing that Julia wasn’t there. So I called to see if, by
chance, his father might answer. Got the family voice mail. I got on the
Internet and, with Jeffrey’s help, I was able to get the work number again and
leave a message for Mr. Allen to call me as soon as possible.

Jeffrey accompanied me to run
my errands: grocery shopping, post office, and the office supply store to get
more ink for Frank’s printer. Jeffrey was well-behaved in public, though people
did kind of look at us funny because we didn’t quite match on account of our
skin color and age difference.

Around two, Mr. Allen
returned my call. Jeffrey was asleep on the couch—or at least pretending
he was—so I went to the front room to take the call. “Hello, Mr. Allen,
this is B Jackson, Jeffrey calls me Mama B. I’m the one been sending the food
to your house while Julia’s been on crutches.”

“Yes, thank you very much.
You’re an excellent cook. How can I help you?”

He’d said the right words,
but I got the feeling he didn’t really want to be bothered. “The reason for my
call is…Jeffrey says Julia is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes. Gone
away
. She
packed her suitcase and left.”

He exhaled heavily. “I can
send someone to pick up Jeffrey.”

“Oh, he’s fine,” I said,
wondering why this man ain’t askin’ more questions about his wife. “He can stay
here until you get off work.”

“Okay. It’ll be late.”

I probably would have left
this man, too.
“Mighty fine.”