Mama B: A Time to Speak (15 page)

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Authors: Michelle Stimpson

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Chapter 2

 

I sat down across from him and we made some small talk. He asked about me and mine, I asked about Roy James and Winona. Derrick said they was doing fine in their retirement village in North Dallas. He said it was almost like a cruise ship, they had so much to do in the complex.

If I wasn’t so busy with the church and the food pantry, I might give one of those places a second glance.

Soon as I found a lull in the conversation, I decided to cut to the chase. My word, it was going on 9:45 by then! “Well, I know you ain’t stopped by here just to catch up on me. What’s the matter?”

He dropped his head. Look like a cloud of shame come over his whole body while he tried to fix his lips on the first word to say.

“Go on and spit it out.”

He exhaled. “I messed up.”

Couldn’t help but chuckle. “Join the club, son. I been president a time or two.”

Derrick shook his head. “No. I mean I
really
messed up. I don’t know if my life will ever be the same, or if Twyla is going to take me back. It’s complicated, Mama B. I just need a place to stay for a little while.”

Don’t take no genius to figure out his problem got something to do with another woman. This is exactly the kind of business I keep my nose out of. “Well, I’m sorry to hear you two are having problems, Derrick, but y’all got to work this thing out.” I stood up so he could get the signal it was time for him to leave.

“But I can’t stay…at home,” he said, with his behind still flat on my couch.

“I didn’t say you had to go home. All I’m sayin’ is you can’t stay
here
. I don’t house no marital fugitives.” I crossed my arms.

Derrick grabbed the short handles of his bag and rose. “I understand, Mama B. Where’s the nearest hotel?”

“Down Main, left on Second.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll be praying for you and Twyla.”

He raised one eyebrow and sucked in his cheeks. Seem like every man on my husband’s side of the family got that same expression when they got no clue of what to do. “I don’t know about praying. I doubt God wants to hear anything from me right now.”

“Oh, He’ll listen. You might not like what He has to say about it, but He will listen because He said He would,” I assured Derrick.

“Good night, Mama B. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Well, make that any time before eight, you hear?”

We shared a laugh as he walked out the door.

I made good on my word. Went back to my bedroom, got on my knees and prayed for him and Twyla. They hadn’t been married but five years or so. Had a three-year-old daughter, Kionna, cute as a button. 
Mmm
, mmm, mmm. I know the devil is busy tryin’ to tear up families. Don’t help none when folk make foolish choices. But if the truth be told, we all done something we knew we had no business doin’ at least once upon a time.

Lord, I don’t know what Derrick did, but You do. I bring him, Twyla, and that precious baby before you. Not because they’ve done everything right, but because You are good. I intercede on their behalf. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I tried to call Winona, but her voice mail picked up. I left her a message letting her know Derrick and Twyla might need some help by way of prayer. Me and Winona go way back. She know how to keep things between me and her and God long enough for Him to work it out. Plus, she’s his Momma. We got a way of praying for our kids that God pays special attention to, I believe.

When I got up off my knees, I rolled back in bed. I had just snuggled up under the covers when that same knockin’ come on the door again.

My goodness! Folk gon’ think I’m runnin’ numbers up in here with all this nighttime traffic!

I stomped back to the door, knowing it had to be Derrick again.

Chapter 3

 

“Mama B,” he said before I had a chance to fuss at him, “please. I went to the hotel but…I can’t stay there.”

“What you mean you
can’t
stay there? It’s a free country, last I heard.”

“Even if I could stay there, Twyla’s got the credit cards.”

He let his eyes drop to the floor again. I knew that was a half-truth if I ever heard one. No wonder he got caught doing something. Derrick was a terrible liar.

But for the first time, it hit me: Derrick really was sorry about whatever shenanigans he’d been up to. This thing would work itself out eventually. In the meanwhile, however, he was only asking for a place to rest his head which, I suppose, is better than asking for money.

“Boy, you betta thank God I’m led by the Holy Spirit. Get on in here.”

“Thank God and you, Mama B!” Derrick grabbed my neck a little too eager-like.

“Wait just a minute here! We gotta come to an understandin’,” I piped up. Now, I let Nikki stay here for free, it’s true, but I can’t bring myself to let no able-bodied grown man stay under my roof without paying something. God ain’t in that arrangement.

Derrick stepped back, still wearing a boyish grin. If memory served me right, he wasn’t too much older than Nikki, which would put him in his late twenties. Too old to be babied, too young to put him out in the streets if I didn’t have to.

“You workin’ right?” I checked.

“Yes. Got a good job in Mesquite, not too far from here. I won’t even be here during the day.”

“Mmm hmm. Rule number one, rent is a hundred dollars a week.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Derrick quickly reached into his wallet, flipped it open, thumbed through, then slapped five twenties in my hand. I guess he figured he’d better give me the money before I changed my mind. “What else?”

“No keepin’ up racket all night. No other woman in this house except your wife if she comes to visit you. Church every Sunday at ten o’clock sharp.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

This boy cheesin’ like he done won the lottery.

“How long you plan on staying here, anyway?”

“I wish I knew, but it’s really out of my hands.”

It ain’t outta mine.
“We need to sit down this time next week and get some timeframes in mind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. As much as I wanted to fuss at Derrick about whatever it was he did, I couldn’t. Wasn’t no good in makin’ my guest feel uncomfortable during his visit. Whatever his problem, he already felt bad enough. “You can stay in Son and Otha’s old room.”

He followed me down the back hallway so we could get him set up with fresh sheets and towels. I bit my tongue the whole time ‘cause Lord knows I wasn’t in the mood for no more houseguest.
Why me, Lord?

Then the Holy Spirit brought a memory to my mind, fresh and clear like it was just yesterday. I remembered standing on the front porch, holding hands with Albert as my old pastor and Deacon Handley dedicated this house to the Lord. Hmph. Every once in a while, the Lord’ll have to remind me that everything I got belongs to Him. Wasn’t for Him, me and Derrick might be in the same boat.

As we forced the fitted sheet to grab hold of the bottom of the mattress, I started humming to the tune of “I Surrender All.” That song sure is a lot easier to sing than to do, I tell you.

“I forgot about your singing,” Derrick smiled.

“Hmm?”

“You used to sing and hum all the time.” Already, he looked lighter. His face was a perfect blend of his parents. Roy James’ tight eyes, Winona’s broad nose. Almost all the cousins, my kids included, had inherited a dimple in the chin. This trademark had become near and dear to my heart. Derrick was family. I needed to remember that, too.

“Oh, yes, I sing all the time.” I smiled back. “Gets me through the day a lot easier.”

He froze and gave me a smart-aleck smirk. “You sound like my Momma. Both of you are
retired
. What’s so hard about life at this point?”

“There’s more to life than work, I’ll have you know. I got my friends, my church, and my family with people like
you
that need lookin’ after.”

He laughed again. “You got me on that one, Mama B. You got me.”

We finished fluffing the pillows on the bed. “That oughta do it.”

Derrick stopped for a moment and looked around the room. He nodded. “Man, I used to want to be like Son and Otha. They had it made.”

“So did you.”

“Naw, not like they did. They had every new video game, new movies, new scooters. Y’all had everything. I used to love coming over here.”

Come to think of it, he was right. We were blessed beyond measure. “Well, God is good.”

“I guess so,” Derrick said.

“Oh, honey, I know so. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mama B. And thank you. You won’t be sorry.”

“Night, Derrick.”
I surely hope not.

Other Books by Michelle Stimpson

 

Fiction

 

A Forgotten Love (Novella) Book One in the “A Few Good Men” Series

 

A Shoulda Woulda Christmas (Novella)

 

Boaz Brown

 

Divas of Damascus Road

 

Falling into Grace

 

I Met Him in the Ladies’ Room (Novella)

 

I Met Him in the Ladies’ Room Again (Novella)

 

Last Temptation
(Starring “Peaches” from
Boaz Brown
)

 

Mama B: A Time to Dance
(Book 2)

 

Mama B: A Time to Love
(Book 3)

 

Mama B: A Time to Mend (Book 4)

 

Someone to Watch Over Me

 

Stepping Down

 

The Good Stuff

 

Trouble In My Way
(Young Adult)

 

What About Momma’s House? (Novella with April Barker)

 

What About Love? (Novella with April Barker)

 

What About Tomorrow? (Novella with April Barker)

 

 

 

Non-Fiction

 

Did I Marry the Wrong Guy? And other silent ponderings of a fairly normal Christian wife

 

Uncommon Sense: 30 Truths to Radically Renew Your Mind in Christ

 

The 21-Day Publishing Plan

 

 

 

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