Somewhat Saved by Pat G'Orge-Walker

Author:Pat G'Orge-Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2011-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

27

It was barely after nine o’clock in the morning but Bea was determined to catch up with Zipporah before the rehearsals for that evening’s performance began. She’d already tricked Chandler into giving her Zipporah’s room number by telling him that she wanted to personally return Zipporah’s wallet even though he’d already told Zipporah it’d been found.

When Bea had called Zipporah earlier and suggested that they have breakfast, Zipporah had tried to politely decline. Bea acted as though she didn’t get the hint and wouldn’t back off. Out of a sense of respect and a need to have her wallet, Zipporah accepted Bea’s invitation.

Bea ambled into the hotel restaurant wearing a floral print dress, zebra-striped jacket, and large sunglasses. The sunglasses were a last minute touch in case someone wanted her autograph. She hadn’t been bothered for it in the past few days but she needed to stay ready for the obligations of fame. Bea still didn’t realize that it had never shown up for her.

She spotted Zipporah immediately. Zipporah had that star quality, according to Bea, that seemed to illuminate the space around her.

“Good morning, Zipporah.” Bea sang the greeting as a tribute to Zipporah. She didn’t seem to care or notice that her rhythm and notes were flat.

“Good morning, Mother Blister.” Zipporah suppressed a smile. She really couldn’t be angry with the old woman. There weren’t that many people who seemed to care about her, whether she was talented or not, without wanting something in return. But she couldn’t deny being curious about the reason Bea wanted to have breakfast with her.

Bea immediately handed Zipporah her wallet. When Zipporah took it, Bea noticed something she hadn’t seen before. “That’s a lovely tattoo on your wrist.” Bea took Zipporah’s hand without permission. Turning it over, she examined the small image on the inside of Zipporah’s wrist.

“It’s not a tattoo.” Zipporah smiled and explained further, “It’s my birthmark. I guess I’m accustomed to it so I don’t pay it any attention.”

Bea returned the smile. “Is that so?” She examined it again and for a moment thought it looked familiar, too. “What exactly is it?”

“When I was younger it looked to me like a small plant leaf.” Zipporah traced the outline of the birthmark. “Now it looks like a collard green leaf.”

“Really?” Bea laughed. “You ain’t never had collard greens until you taste mine.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Zipporah picked at the bacon and cheese omelet. She really had no intention of eating it but Bea had blurted out the order before she could stop her.

“You can ask me anything you want.” Bea couldn’t stop smiling. She was overjoyed by Zipporah’s apparent acceptance.

“Why are you so friendly toward me? What is it that you want?”

“Say what?” Bea was truly astounded. Her face turned a deeper purple, which made her complexion look like an overripe eggplant.

“I didn’t mean to insult you.” The moment the question had left her mouth and she saw Bea’s hurt look, Zipporah was sorry. “Why don’t we just

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