Читать книгу Blessed Trinity - Vanessa Davis Griggs - Страница 14

I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.

(Psalm 37:25)

“Pastor Landris, this is Reverend Knight. How are you?”

“Wonderful. And yourself?”

“Making it, or as my congregation loves saying every Sunday, ‘Blessed of the Lord and highly favored!’” He cleared his throat, loudly in Pastor Landris’s ear.

Pastor Landris pulled the phone away and looked at it while shaking his head in disbelief at the man’s rudeness.

Reverend Knight continued. “I’m sure you’re wondering what has prompted my call.”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Well, I was wondering if I might be able to interest you in lunch—on me, of course.”

“And what would be the occasion? Celebrating my losing out on securing a building I was trying to get, maybe?”

“Oh, I can see you don’t pull any punches. I like that in a man, and even more so in a preacher. You know, we’ve gotten so sanctimonious these days, we don’t always say what’s on our minds. That only leads to unnecessary speculation.” Reverend Knight cleared his throat again. “Forgive me for the noise in my throat. I’ve almost used it up preaching for the Lord. You know, that’s the way I want to go out,” he said, as though he was preaching a sermon and coming to the close. He paused a second. “Listen, Doc, I want to get together with you. Lunch, dinner, whatever you want. I just need to have a real sit-down talk with you. I have an offer I’d like to propose, and I don’t care to discuss it over the phone. So what do you say?”

“If I said I wasn’t interested—”

“At least sit down with me and hear what I have to say. If you’re not interested, then you’re the kind of man who will flat-out tell me. But only a fool will turn down something without knowing what he’s turning down.”

Pastor Landris only heard the word “fool,” and that didn’t sit too well. “What if I want to think about it first?”

“Think about what? I’m asking you out to eat and talk—I’m not proposing marriage. Besides, you’re not my type!” Reverend Knight laughed out loud at his own joke.

Pastor Landris was silent.

“Come on, Doc. Let’s you and me sit down and break bread together. You and me. We can talk and get to know each other better. Who knows, you might find I have something you’re interested in. How’s noon tomorrow looking for you?”

Pastor Landris already knew the whole day was open for him. “Let me get back to you,” he said.

“Sure, sure. Talk it over with the missus and get her okay.” Reverend Knight laughed again. “From more than forty-eight years of marital experience, believe me, you don’t want to mess up there.”

Pastor Landris decided not to even dignify that with a comment. “What’s your phone number?”

Reverend Knight gave him his number. “I look forward to hearing from you shortly,” he said. “Now don’t keep me waiting too long. You wouldn’t want the cloud to move without you.”

They hung up. Pastor Landris stared at the phone before placing it back in its base.

He went to find Johnnie Mae. She was in the den folding towels. A woman named Ms. Bertha came three times a week to clean the house, but Johnnie Mae enjoyed folding towels fresh out of the dryer so much, she did that task herself.

“He wants to have lunch tomorrow,” Pastor Landris said, watching Johnnie Mae smooth out and line up the plush, combed-cotton towel before triple-folding it.

“Wear something a little more casual than usual.”

“Who said I was going?”

“You. He wants to have lunch and talk. I’m sure you want to hear what he has to say. Knowing you like I do, I’m sure you’re planning to confront him. Instead of driving yourself crazy about what he may or may not be up to, call him back right now and tell him you’ll meet him tomorrow. Regardless of what he ends up saying, you’ll know for sure and have peace of mind.”

“So what’s on your mind?” he said, looking closer at her troubled, unsmiling face.

“Nothing.”

He got up, squatted down in front of her, grabbed both her hands, and looked into her eyes. “Johnnie Mae, what’s wrong?”

She released the towel and looked back at him. “I called over to check on my mother while you were on the other line talking with Reverend Knight. She’s having a bad day today. Really bad. It’s getting so hard. With Rachel home visiting, I now have Rachel, Marie, and Donald ganging up and badgering me about my decision to let Mama stay in her own house instead of putting her somewhere. But Mama doesn’t want to leave her home yet. She loves her house…she loves her community. That’s her comfort zone. How can I make her leave that?”

“I know. I just don’t get why they won’t trust your judgment. Your mother did—that’s why she put you in charge of her affairs.”

“Rachel spent the night at Mama’s house this past week, and she says Mama gets up in the middle of the night and wanders around the house. She said Mama could leave the house and no one would know where she’s gone. It’s unsafe not knowing what her state of mind might be when she’s wandering around unattended.”

“I guess none of you would have known this otherwise,” Landris said.

“No. We thought Mama just went to sleep and stayed asleep until one of us stopped by in the mornings to check in with her. Rachel asked me how I’d feel if something terrible were to happen to our mother just because I refuse to move her to a home. She says I’m being stubborn and reckless. I know she’s the oldest and all, but I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Stubborn and reckless—is that what she said?”

“Yes. And it hurts. I’m trying to do what I think is right. Landris,” Johnnie Mae had tears in her eyes, “I don’t know what to do. I know putting Mama in a nursing facility might seem like the right thing to do to them, but I can’t manage to get something out of my head Mama said when we were little.”

Pastor Landris moved the almost-empty clothes basket and sat next to her. He placed his arm gently around her. “What did she say?”

“That no matter what, we had better not ever put her in an old folks’ home.”

Landris pulled her in tighter, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”

“Oh, she meant it. Back then, she definitely meant it. Mama’s brother had their mother put in a home. Here was this vibrant, active, alert woman, and Uncle Rusty had her put in a nursing home because he didn’t want to be bothered. When we were little and Mama would talk about the awful things that happened to her mother while she was in that place, how rapidly her mother declined, she always told us we had better not ever send her to one of those places. She didn’t care how bad she got—one of us ought to love her enough to fight for her and even take her in if we had to.” Johnnie Mae laid her head on Pastor Landris’s shoulder.

“You know, all that your mother said back then was before anybody knew anything about Alzheimer’s. She didn’t know what was coming, and how it would affect her.”

“I know, but she thinks she’s fine. Fifty-percent of the time she’s her normal self. If we tried to put her in an assisted-living place or nursing home, she’d feel betrayed. I just know she would. Even now, she thinks all we want to do is put her away and take what’s left of her money.”

“Yeah, I know. She told me last week when I was over there that Rachel was only coming home to try and steal her money out of the bank. She asked me to take her to the bank so she could get it out and hide it. She accused Donald of taking things out of her house and thinking she doesn’t know it. She said she’s not crazy. She knows when things are missing.” He stopped to see how Johnnie Mae was taking all of this. She seemed to be handling it okay, so he continued.

“She thinks Marie is the really sneaky one because she acts like she cares so much about your mother, when all Marie ever talks about is your mother going to a home just so she can commandeer her house. Your mother feels Marie is merely pretending to care about her. I tried to tell her all of you really do care about her. So naturally, now she thinks I’m part of the conspiracy.”

“And me?” Johnnie Mae knew Landris was trying to spare her feelings. “What did she have to say about me?”

Pastor Landris looked at her. He knew he couldn’t lie to Johnnie Mae, not even to protect her feelings. “She said you don’t care anything about her. All you care about is that baby of yours, whose name she couldn’t remember, and that jack-legged preacher you married. I guess that would be me.” He tucked his wife’s side-bang behind her ear. “She thinks most preachers are crooks and your smooth-talking husband needs church money, so she has to be careful around ‘those two holy rollers.’”

Johnnie Mae cried silently as Landris held her close.

“I’m sorry you had to hear Mama saying all of that. I know it can’t be easy for you to tell me this, either, but I need to know what she’s thinking.” Johnnie Mae dabbed her eyes with one of the hand towels. “And Christian? What did she say about my brother Christian? Did she mention him at all?”

“Oddly, she thinks Christian purposely stays in the army so he won’t have to be bothered with her. She doubts if something were to happen to her that he would even take the time to come home and see about her.”

“Wow, you certainly received an earful.” Dabbing at her eyes some more, she tried to control her sniffles, then grabbed up the remaining four towels and began to fold them.

“Johnnie Mae, don’t be hard on yourself. When your mother came back to herself again, which was about thirty minutes following her rant about all of you, she had the most wonderful things to say about each of you.”

Johnnie Mae began to cry again. “Why is this happening to her? Why my mother?” She sat back and began to rock slightly. Pastor Landris pulled her close to him again and held her still. Johnnie Mae sat straight up. “I have to find a sitter for Mama, at least during the night. And that’s that. The sooner, the better.”

“Excuse me, Johnnie.” It was Ms. Bertha. She was a tall woman, six-feet-one, and a few years younger than Johnnie Mae’s mother. “I was coming to get the towels to put them away before I left for the day. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation just now, but did I overhear you saying something about needing a sitter for your mother?”

Johnnie Mae smiled and wiped her face completely, hoping to erase any visible signs of her distress. “Yes, Ms. Bertha. Do you happen to know anyone who might be interested and would be really good? I don’t need anything major done for Mama, at least not at this point.”

Ms. Bertha slowly placed her hand over her heart. “Yes, ma’am, I believe I do. In fact, I have the perfect someone in mind.” She released a huge grin. “Me.”

“You?”

“Yes, Johnnie. All my kids are grown and gone. There ain’t nobody left but me. It gets lonely being at a house by yourself,” Ms. Bertha said. “So staying at your mama’s wouldn’t be a hardship on me. And you know I love your mama…I love me some Countess Gates. Truthfully, it wouldn’t even be a job to stay there with her. I don’t come here to your house but three times a week, so it wouldn’t be too much on me to do both. I’m a light sleeper, so keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be a problem a’tall.”

“Ms. Bertha, I can’t ask you to do this. I’m sure you don’t want to be confined to sitting around during your off time. What about the bowling league and the other things you do with the people at your church? No, but I truly appreciate your offer—”

“Johnnie, you need a sitter. And I could use the extra cash. To be honest, I was thinking about looking for more work to supplement my income. Things keep going sky-high these days. It’s getting harder and harder for us old folks to make the ends of our dollars wave at each other from a distance, let alone get close enough to meet.”

“You’re not old, Ms. Bertha.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that ’cause you’re hot on my trail, seeing as you’ve hit your forties now,” Ms. Bertha said with a chuckle. She was never one to hold back when it came to stating the truth. “I’ll be sixty next month. My social security won’t kick in for another two years at best. A woman still has to eat, even though you can probably tell I ain’t missed any meals yet.”

Ms. Bertha wasn’t fat but what one might refer to as thick. She was solid through-and-through, with curves in all the right places topped off by a perfectly shaped, white afro she vowed would never even flirt with a bottle of anybody’s dye. She was “all nat-u-rale,” as she liked to say, and proud of it.

“It wouldn’t be too much on you?” Johnnie Mae stared hard at her. “Ms. Bertha, are you sure about this?”

“Sure as my name is Bertha Ruff. Like I said, your mother was there when I needed someone; now I’d like to do what I can for her. She was the one who sent me to you for this job, which I appreciate more than you’ll both ever know. I’ve worked in plenty of white folks’ houses. Most of them now use maid companies to come in and do their cleanings and whatnots. Folks like me used to could count on this kind of work, but now it’s become big business. There ain’t a lot of places available for many my age.” Ms. Bertha gathered the folded towels and began stacking them neatly inside the clothes basket.

“You pay better than anyone else I’ve ever worked for, but that ain’t why I want to do this,” Ms. Bertha said. “You know you could have gotten me for a lot less than you did, but you, being your mother’s child, can’t help but do more than right by people. And God’s gonna bless you for that, too. I just know He is. Your mama is so proud of you. And I know I sho’ am. We talk about you and all you’ve accomplished all the time at church. Countess and Jericho Gates did a fine job raising you. A fine job! You’ve done them proud.”

“Well, thank you, Ms. Bertha. Okay, so I need to hire a sitter. And you definitely would be perfect for the job. If you really want it, it’s yours.”

“Thank you, Johnnie.” She clapped her hands once, then picked up the basket of folded towels and started toward the arched entranceway. Turning back, she said, “We can hash out the details later.” She winked, gave a quick nod, then left.

Johnnie Mae smiled as she hugged Landris. “Landris, I know everything is going to work out, but this is so much harder than people know.”

“Well, I know,” Pastor Landris said as he held on to his wife, enjoying every second of their embrace. “And you know God knows. People say that if God allows you to come to it, He’s going to bring you through it. We just have to hold to His hand. He’s given us His promise and His Word that He won’t let go.”

Pastor Landris caressed Johnnie Mae’s hands as he brought them, ever so gently, to his lips and lovingly planted them with a kiss.