Mama B - a Time to Love by Michelle Stimpson

Author:Michelle Stimpson [Stimpson, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 18897497
Published: 2013-05-27T05:00:00+00:00

Me and Eunice made a trip to the Walmart and got some more groceries for the house. Of course, folk was starin’ at her with all that riff-raff on her face. Her eyes weren’t so bad anymore, but since she had taken the bandages off her arms, anyone who got close could see the black string sewn into her skin.

She rode around in the handicapped buggy, throwing all kinds of foolishness into the basket. Good thing we had already decided she should be well enough by the end of the week to move back to wherever she wanted to go. In the meanwhile, she said she needed some “real” food.

That Eunice was something else. I didn’t have a scale to prove it, but I know I’d put on a few pounds already, bein’ in her company. She had cut loose in the kitchen a few times and managed to put enough seasoning and honey just right on a chicken breast—make you wanna holla! I had a mind to let her cook as often as she wanted to after that.

She grabbed a few pairs of pull-on pants, shirts, and a pair of flip-flops.

“It’ll be getting cool soon. You might want to get something a little warmer,” I suggested.

“Yeah, you’re right. Some of those shelters might as well be made out of paper for as cold as they get in the winter,” she said, dropping a sweatshirt into our stash.

I, personally, wasn’t looking forward to dropping her off at some shelter, but I could see she was getting antsy. She was smokin’ outside more. Mumbling to herself. She wouldn’t agree to go to the upcoming Wednesday night service. She apologized, said I didn’t have to worry about her breaking my rules much longer.

“B, go on and get what you want,” Eunice prompted several times as we swept up and down the store’s center aisles.

“We ain’t at the fruit and vegetable section yet. That’s where I do most of my grocery shoppin’,” I said.

“Well, whatever you want, just throw it in the basket. I’m buying,” she insisted.

Put together, our bill came to a little over eighty dollars. Then she added cigarettes and that took it up to a hundred. She pulled out a VISA card, swiped through the machine. Of course, I didn’t pay no attention to what all she was doing as she conducted the transaction.

But when she was done, the girl gave her cash. Eunice thrust it into my hand before I knew what she was doing. “Here you go, B.”

“Eunice, I ain’t asked you for no money.”

“I know. I’m giving it to you.”

The cashier chimed in, “Shoot, I’ll take it if you don’t want it.”

Well, I’m not one to insult someone who’s trying to bless me. I stuffed the money into my pocketbook. “Thank you, Eunice.”

Since Eunice had to walk to the car on her cane, of course she trailed behind me. Good thing, too, ‘cause now I was starting to wonder where Eunice gettin’ all this money from. I got to doin’ the math up in my head.

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