Free Mama B - a Time to Love by Michelle Stimpson Page B

the
groceries away back at the house. Said her leg was botherin’ her. Since she’d
been wearing some pants that Libby brought her, I hadn’t had an opportunity to
see what was going on with her. But when I went in to check on her before I
took my afternoon nap, I had to keep my composure. Her bad leg had done turned
dark brown and was weeping from the pores.
    “Eunice, you got to get to a doctor,” I
warned softly, trying not to scare her too bad.
    “It’s only cellulitis. Flares up from
time to time.”
    “Has it been this bad before?”
    She shrugged. “Can’t say that it has. But
everything gets worse as we get older, right? I’m guessing with the fall and
the drugs and all, it might be taking a little longer to get better.”
    I shook my head. “This ain’t healthy. I got
a good mind to take you to emergency right now.”
    “You will do no such thing,” Eunice
protested, covering that leg with the bed covers, as though her condition would
leave my mind if I couldn’t see it any more. “I’ve seen enough doctors this
week to last me the rest of the year.”
    “What about your stitches? And your
nose?”
    “The doctor said the stitches would
dissolve on their own. And once a broken nose is set, all you need to do is let
it heal. I’ll take off the face bandages tomorrow.”
    She ‘bout stubborn as my momma was.
Couldn’t get her to go see a doctor ‘til it was too late. “Eunice, need I
remind you, you ain’t got no medical degree, far as I know. You got no business
doctorin’ on yourself.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “When you spend
several years married to an abusive alcoholic, you learn to be your own doctor
after a while.”
    Eunice grabbed the medicine bottle and
half-full glass of water on the night stand. She popped another pill. “I’ll be
fine, B. You worry too much.”
    She could set up there and act like her
leg was fine all she wanted to, but I knew better. Eunice was sicker than she
thought.

Chapter 13
     
    Frank wanted to go for a light dinner
after our dancing Friday night. I figure since I been up with Eunice ‘til two
in the morning, I could extend a similar courtesy to Frank. All those calories
we burned on the floor would make up for eating so late.
    Frank picked a steakhouse off of the
highway. One I hadn’t ever been to, actually, so I had to study the menu. So
many new places popping up near Peasner.
    “What’ll it be?” he asked when I closed
the booklet.
    “Believe I’ll have the chicken Caesar.”
    “Sounds good.”
    The waitress came and took our order,
leaving us in a familiar spot across from each other. I don’t know what it was
about the lighting in that place, but Frank looked awful handsome despite his
laid-back clothes. Bald head, brown eyes, smooth skin, shining white dentures.
I could see why women might have thrown themselves at him, making a man’s
temptations even harder to bear.
    All through our chit-chat as we ordered
and waited for our food, I told myself to stop thinking about what Cynthia had
said. Whatever Frank done in his past ought to stay there, like they say about
Vegas. Still, there was a part of me that wanted to know. What if Frank is
some kind of womanizer? What if he makes a fool of me? It would be all my fault
because Cynthia did warn me.
    I tried to take everything into account.
In the past months, Frank had been nothing but kind to me. Sent flowers, took
me dancing, let me take everything as slow as I needed to.
    But he did make a habit of texting me
before we talked. Maybe he had to get where he could talk, get away from
another woman? Maybe the reason his daughter stopped volunteering at the shelter
was because he didn’t want her to see me. Then the enemy got real busy with
the accusations. What if his wife didn’t die of a disease – maybe he
poisoned her?
    Well, I’d had about enough of giving the
devil room in my brain. If I was gonna be in some kind of a
more-than-friendship with Frank— IF —I certainly needed