Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Betty won’t leave yet,” she says, a determined glint in her eye. “And while she can still remember her life in this place, I don’t think she should, but I also don’t think you need to move home to this backwoods town.”
The sliver of humor in her voice soothes me long enough to return her small smirk.
“And she doesn’t want you to have to do that, Hen,” she says. “I’m an old woman, and them roots I got in Virginia ain’t doing a thing for me. I’ll move.”
“Aunt G, no. You—”
“I am retired. Your cousin Ellie and the grands live in Costa Rica. They got the bar to run. Gerald and his family are stationed overseas. Till he’s out of the army, I don’t think they’ll be back stateside anytime soon. I only get to see my kids a few times a year as it is.”
“But your life is in Virginia Beach.”
“Girl, I’m seventy-seven years old. Husband passed. My kids ain’t around. I grew up here. Still got friends here. Shoot, New Hope Baptist was my church till I married and moved with your uncle Robert.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “They might not have even taken my name off the roll. I’ll be back on the usher board before you know it.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“She’s my sister, Hendrix. My baby sister, and she needs me.” She leans forward to look in my eyes and taps the table with her index finger for emphasis. “There will come a time when your mama won’t be able to stay at home, but she’s still early in this. We gotta pace ourselves. Not just her, but you. Things will get worse, and we’ll face another set of decisions. Harder decisions, but we’re not there yet. I think you can stay in Atlanta, run your business and your life without much disruption, and come home every chance you get.”
The idea floats through the chaos of my thoughts, taking a few seconds to settle. Aunt Geneva’s plan will require many adjustments in how I run the business, how I run my life, but not as much as having to be here all the time would. It may be a temporary compromise we can all live with. It’s probably the best we can do for now, but guilt still gnaws at my insides.
“Don’t let that guilt eat you alive,” Aunt Geneva says.
I stare at her, amazed how she and Mama sometimes seem to pluck the thoughts right out of my head.
“How do y’all do that?” I chuckle. “I couldn’t get away with nothing growing up because seemed like Mama was always two steps ahead of every lie I tried to tell.”
“We got discernment,” Aunt Geneva replies with a wink and a smug smile. “God gon’ always tell on you.”
We both laugh at that, though I’m not sure she’s joking. If there’s one thing Mama and Aunt Geneva have always taken seriously, it’s church.
“Are you sure?” I ask, the flash of humor squashed by the returning weight of worry.
“There is very little I’ve been sure of since Betty was diagnosed,” Aunt Geneva says, blinking away tears. “But coming to live with my sister and taking care of her as long as I can—I never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She pulls me close and tucks my face into the curve of her neck. My tears soak her shirt like I’m a child again. I can’t help but think of Mama tonight, the small figure in the back seat of that police car.
It’s funny how the tables turn.
Right now, I wish I could go back to being that child who counted on Mama and Daddy for everything. So far from the woman I’ve become who runs the world around her with a steady hand. I’m barely standing on wobbly legs and with a trembling heart, but I cannot afford to fail and I won’t let her down.
The tables have turned, and now Mama’s the one counting on me.
CHAPTER 1
HENDRIX
I get paid for my good ideas.
Coming to this party was not one of them.
Another quick glance at my phone settles the uneven thump of my heart. No missed calls. No new texts.
Yet.
My muscles tighten, braced for the call that hasn’t come, and anxiety floods my nervous system as I wonder why my phone hasn’t rung.
Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.
Mama has been better since Aunt Geneva moved in a few months ago. The doctor believes Ms. Catherine’s death may have exacerbated Mama’s symptoms, or at least proved destabilizing enough that some of her lapses after Ms. Cat’s passing made sense. We can never really know, but taking her meds regularly, being more active, and having someone to watch out for her again seem to have improved Mama’s situation, or at least gotten her back on track. I try to get home to see her and help out at least twice a month, though work has been so busy lately, carving out the time has proven more difficult.