Mama B - A Time to Dance (Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

That’s just the way it was. And even a lot of us who was used to better times had to
tighten up with the economy so unstable. Shoot, plenty people lost what little
money they had managed to save, the way the stock market trumbled up
and down like a rollercoaster.
    The more I
thought about the goodness and the stability I had in God, I could have broke
out in a holy dance right there with Ophelia.
    “I tell you
what, people gon’ have to learn to look to Jehovah Jireh ‘cause all this
dependin’ on the government ‘bout to play out,” I said to Ophelia.
    Ophelia sighed.
“So what we gon’ do to help her?”
    “I don’t know. I
mean, if we step in and the church steps in to bail her out this mess, how we
know she won’t be right back to square one next year? I mean, she still got to pay the taxes in the future,” I reasoned.
    “No, she won’t.
Not if she lose this house. We gonna have to take this one step at a time.”
    Ophelia was
right. One step at a time. Maybe if we worked together to save Henrietta’s
house, she could sit down with Rev. Martin and he could teach her how to live
within her means and save up something to pay the taxes off at the end of the
year. Rev. Martin been balancin’ the books for Mt. Zion for years. He pretty
good at money-talk.
    “Well, let’s
pray,” I suggested.
    Me and Ophelia
joined hands, bowed heads, and asked the Lord to tell us exactly what to
do—or not.
     

Chapter 7
     
    I must have
dozed off not too long after Ophelia left because the next thing I remember is
waking up in a world of confusion at the sound of somebody coming into my front
door.
    “Hey, Mama B.”
    Took me a moment
to remember I had a house guest. “Hi, Derrick. How was work today?”
    “Pretty good,”
he said. He slid off his shoes at the front door and walked two steps.
    “Uh, wait a
minute,” I stopped him. “Turn yourself right back around and get your shoes and
take ‘em to your room.”
    He stood there
for a minute with a blank look in his brown eyes. Like he ain’t never had nobody
give him these type of orders. Then I guess the whole thing registered with
him. “Yes, ma’am.”
    “And I want you
to do the same thing tomorrow and the next day. Got that?”
    “Loud and clear.
You sound just like Twyla.”
    “Well, she got a
three-year-old to look after.”
    “Okay, but she
doesn’t even work full-time, Mama B.”
    “Don’t matter,”
I fussed. " I don’t know what kinda cleaning arrangements you all decided
on, but whatever they are, you sure ain’t supposed to add to the problem by not
picking up after yourself,” I lectured him like somebody should have a long
time ago. Fussin’ at folks don’t make me happy, but I ain’t had no blood
pressure problems up until now, and I don’t plan on having none thanks to him.
    He might have
wanted to talk back, but he knew better. He swept up those shoes and headed on
back to the bedroom without another word.
    I started on
dinner—turkey meatballs with green beans and red potatoes. Derrick joined
in the kitchen after a while, and we pulled ourselves up to the table for
supper. I blessed the food, then sat there watching him pick through
everything.
    “You don’t like
turkey?”
    He snarled up a
bit. “I guess I’m used to beef meatballs.”
    “I don’t fool
with beef much these days,” I said. “All that red meat ain’t good for you.”
    He sighed like
he was surrenderin’ to me.
    “You welcome to
go somewhere and get you something else. Won’t hurt my feelings none,” I told
him. I was quite used to folk turnin’ up they noses at my healthy meals.
    He turned and
glanced at the grandfather clock behind him. “No. It’s too late.”
    Considerin’ how
late he come knocking on my door, I didn’t know he had respect for time. “You
sound like me. I don’t get out much once the sun starts going down.”
    He pushed the
green beans around a little more, took a few bites, and then dismissed himself
from the table.
    I