Mama Stalks the Past Read Online Free PDF Page A

that Hannah had been married four times.”
    I shoved my spoon into the stew. It was rich and dark, bubbling with meat and carrots, and new potatoes. “You know, you may not have to spend too much time on Miss Hannah, Nat, or that land,” I told her. “Once you find the envelope Miss Hannah told Calvin Stokes about, things will straighten out, don’t you think?”
    “The solution to Hannah’s murder won’t be as simple as finding an envelope.”
    I sipped the wonderful broth. My mind drifted to Cliff and how much I wanted to be with him. Life was the pits, I thought.
    Mama looked as if she understood my feelings, as if she knew exactly what was on my mind. She broke a piece of bread in two, then said, “I’ll give Nat a day or two to calm down before I ask him to let me go through his mother’s things.”
    I frowned. “Why?”
    “He’s so uptight.”
    I shook my head. “I know enough about Nat to know that he’s not only impulsive but greedy. A few days will be too late.”
    Mama leaned back in her chair and smoothed her napkin on her lap. “You’re right—he’s probablycombing through Hannah’s belongings right now, looking for whatever he can turn into cash. And if he finds the envelope he won’t understand what is inside.”
    “He could throw it away,” I warned.
    Mama fidgeted in her seat. An odd look crossed her features. “To be honest, I would rather look for the envelope when he’s not at home,” she admitted.
    “I’ll go along with that,” I said, eyeing the succulent piece of meat positioned on my fork. Nobody made stew that tasted like Mama’s.
    “Maybe later tonight … around eight,” Mama suggested. “Nat usually leaves about that time and doesn’t come back until the next morning.”
    I froze, remembering Nat’s vengeful attitude and the stab of anxiety I’d felt when he came into our house angry. “On second thought,” I said, “it might be a good idea to have Daddy close by when you go over to Miss Hannah’s.”
    Mama’s laugh was rich. “Nat
is
scared of James, isn’t he?”
    “Like a dog of a dogcatcher.”
    Mama nodded. “If we’ll have to wait until James is here to go with us, we’ll have to look for that envelope later than eight o’clock.”
    “The business my father has to take care of will take him more than a few hours, won’t it?”
    Mama spoke softly but quick. “James is hanging with his drinking buddies again,” she admitted. Worry tinged her voice.
    I wiped my mouth with the napkin, and felt a little guilty that all I had been worrying about was my troubles with Cliff. “I suspected that,” I admitted.
    “I’ve got to come up with some way to break the cycle,” Mama said softly.
    The expression on her face tugged at my heart. I patted her hand. “You know, psychologists call a person like you a codependent,” I told her gently.
    “James is my husband!”
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that. And I know that you can handle it.”
    “Yeah,” Mama murmured, as if talking to herself. “But I wonder if there will ever be a time when James will be able to handle it himself!”
    I was silent. My father’s drinking wasn’t a source of contention between him and Mama. Mama didn’t argue, she didn’t fuss. For a long time, whenever my father came home drunk, she did her best to make him comfortable. But after his drinking almost landed him in jail for murder, it became clear she had decided that it was her responsibility to keep him sober. She never admitted it, but I knew it was a burden, one she insisted on bearing alone.
    “By the way,” I said, after a few moments of silence during which we cleaned our plates, “how will we get inside Miss Hannah’s house if Nat isn’t home?”
    Mama smiled; her eyes and face sparkled. She was once again herself, eager to push ahead. “Now, that’s a good question.”
    “I ain’t up for spending time in jail for breaking into his house.”
    “We won’t break in,” Mama said