“I asked her about it a few weeks ago and she told me it was nothing.”
“It ain’t nothin’.”
I knew it. I knew something was bothering her. Why didn’t she own up to it? “This time I’m not letting her get away with it.” With a firm push on the screen door, I head on out to the backyard.
Fee’s taken a seat in her favorite chair. She pulls her tobacco pouch out of the pocket on her apron and pops a big piece behind her bottom lip. With a deliberate shake of her head she lets me know something orsomeonehas got her goat. “Woo-whee. That Kadeesha. She gets on my last nerve.”
“You and me both.” That might be true. But we have a more important matter to discuss. We sit there in silence awhile before I speak. “Okay, now.Don’t be telling me nothing’s wrong with you. I saw you holding your stomach again.”
“It ain’t nothin’ but a cramp.” She won’t even look at me when she says it.
“What kind of cramp? Your cramps been gone a long time. You’re sixty-four years old.”
“Shoot.” She closes her eyes, plays like she’s napping.
“Don’t ‘shoot’ me. How did it go at the doctor’s last month? You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
I swallow and press my lips together. She’s exactly right. “Forgot all about it. So much going on around here.” Here I’ve spent time thinking about my hair weave and a job I’ll never get, and forgot all about asking my own auntie what happened at the doctor’s. “I’m sorry. Please tell me how it went.”
“Listen here,” she says, in a rigid tone. Her eyes are big as saucers now. “Doctor say I’m okay. If it keeps on bothering me I might have a little surgery. That’s all.”
“What kind of surgery?”
“Exploratory surgery. But I ain’t gone worry about that unless I have to.”
“Then why are you still holding your stomach?”
Her voice softens. She turns to look at me dead-on. Our knees are rubbing together. “It’s fine, baby, and I don’t want to talk about it no more. I want you to talk. What is it you wanted to tell me?”
I squeeze one eye shut, let her know I’m on to her. I’m not ready to switch subjects but Aunt Fee is the most stubborn woman alive today. Finally I say, “Mama Carla’s leaving.”
Her eyebrows shoot to the sky with wrinkles lining her forehead.
I put a finger to my lips. “Shhh, now. Be quiet about it. She doesn’t want anyone knowing. She said she’d be telling you soon. After she tells the board.”
She leans her chair back against the brick, the way she always does. The front legs rise a little. “Here we go. Another new housemother. Lawd have mercy on us all. Just when we had something good.”
“That’s not all.”
“Uh-oh. What else happenin’, baby?”
“She thinks I should apply.”
Fee whips her head around. “For housemama?”
I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
She doesn’t respond and I could swear she’s thinking it’s a bad idea, but then, “That’s wonderful, dahlin’.” Her lips curve into a big smile.
“You mean it?”
“Anything has to do with you betterin’ your life is good news to me.” She picks up the Gatorade bottle and spits inside. Then I see her face transform, switch from glad to mad as fast as a rabbit can run. “The idea of you spendin’ all these years in front of a toilet, disposin’ of everybody else’s number two.Shoot.It’s about time you put down that ol’ nasty plunger, and put it down for good.” After crossing her arms in a huff on top of her large bosom, I see her jaw clench. “Doing all that nasty work all these years—for eleven dollars an hour.Hmmph.”
“Eleven fifty.”
She just looks at me.
