Read Online Mama B - A Time to Dance (Book 2) by Michelle Stimpson - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Stimpson
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voice. I couldn’t make
out all of what she was saying. Probably a good thing, too.
I did hear Derrick threaten, “Miss Henrietta, if you don’t get off this back porch,
I’m going to get Pastor Phillips.”
“You can’t scare
me with my own pastor!” she barked. “I got a good mind to pop you!”
Next come a loud
yell from Derrick. “Why’d you hit me?”
I done had
enough of her, Lord. “I’m calling the police!” I warned from the kitchen.
“No, Mama B!” I
heard him slam the door shut. He came running back in to find me. “No. There
can be no police activity at this address.”
I set the phone
back on the charger. Took a good look at the fresh red handprint forming on my
nephew’s face. Henrietta need to quit! Just ‘cause she old don’t give her no
right to go around boppin’ people. ‘Specially not when she still strong enough
to leave a mark.
“She’s gone,
anyway. It’s over.”
He sat down at
the dinette. I stood over him, took his chin in my hand and turned his face to
the side so I could get a better look. “Boy, she slapped the fire out of you.”
He shook out of
my grasp. “What is she so mad about?”
“She thinks I’m
stealing Pastor Phillips from her. But truth is, I don’t want him, he don’t
want me, and he sure as the sun rises don’t want her, either.”
Derrick
squinched up his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Henrietta might be onto something.
Your pastor looked our way throughout most of the sermon. And you do look nice
for, you know, an older lady. No offense.”
“Pastor Phillips
is like my brother. Me and him and Geneva and Albert go way back. Ain’t nothin’
to what you and Henrietta talkin’.”
“So, who’s the other guy?”
“You sure are in
my business!” I turned my back to him and stepped over to the crockpot to check
on my turkey stew. Cameron had turned his nose up about eating it the first
time I gave it to him, but he “disliked” it enough to eat two bowls full. I
chuckled at the memory.
“Sounds as
though you really like this new friend of yours,” Derrick said.
He must have assumed I was thinking about
Dr. Wilson.
“You worryin’
‘bout the wrong thing,” I turned the tables, shaking my spoon at him. “I
saw how all those young ladies looked at you today at church. You the
one attracting folks’ eyes. Where’s your wedding band at, anyway?”
“Twyla kept it.
She says I don’t deserve to wear it.” His eyes got all fixed and glassy. “What
am I gonna do?” Then bent over and hit his head on top of the table a few
times. “I was so stupid.”
I had a mind to
let him sit there for the next ten minutes beating himself up, literally. But
the Holy Spirit reminded me of Romans 8:1. No condemnation to those in
Christ.
“Derrick, stop
beating your head on the table.” Now it was my turn to put my hand on his
shoulder and stand between him and all the shame and guilt the enemy wanted to
bring. “You done wrong, but God knew you would do it before you even thought
about doing it. And He still came into your heart despite you. Why don’t you
pray and then give Twyla a call. Invite her and the baby over for dinner, we
got plenty.”
He winced. “She
won’t even talk to me. There’s no way. I messed up big time. Maybe I should let
her go, you know? Start over. Just chalk this first marriage up to a life
lesson, move on and do my best to be a good father to Kionna if Twyla will let me.”
I asked him
point-blank, “Is that what you want to do?”
“No,” he quickly
replied. “But what choice do I have if Twyla doesn’t forgive me?”
“She ain’t gon’
have a reason to forgive you if you don’t let her know you still care.”
“But what if
she’s still mad?”
“What you think
– she’s supposed to be happy you cheated on her? She supposed to
sleep on it and wake up feeling better about it the next day?”
“I didn’t cheat
on her…technically,” he tried.
I put a hand on
my hip and stared him
out all of what she was saying. Probably a good thing, too.
I did hear Derrick threaten, “Miss Henrietta, if you don’t get off this back porch,
I’m going to get Pastor Phillips.”
“You can’t scare
me with my own pastor!” she barked. “I got a good mind to pop you!”
Next come a loud
yell from Derrick. “Why’d you hit me?”
I done had
enough of her, Lord. “I’m calling the police!” I warned from the kitchen.
“No, Mama B!” I
heard him slam the door shut. He came running back in to find me. “No. There
can be no police activity at this address.”
I set the phone
back on the charger. Took a good look at the fresh red handprint forming on my
nephew’s face. Henrietta need to quit! Just ‘cause she old don’t give her no
right to go around boppin’ people. ‘Specially not when she still strong enough
to leave a mark.
“She’s gone,
anyway. It’s over.”
He sat down at
the dinette. I stood over him, took his chin in my hand and turned his face to
the side so I could get a better look. “Boy, she slapped the fire out of you.”
He shook out of
my grasp. “What is she so mad about?”
“She thinks I’m
stealing Pastor Phillips from her. But truth is, I don’t want him, he don’t
want me, and he sure as the sun rises don’t want her, either.”
Derrick
squinched up his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Henrietta might be onto something.
Your pastor looked our way throughout most of the sermon. And you do look nice
for, you know, an older lady. No offense.”
“Pastor Phillips
is like my brother. Me and him and Geneva and Albert go way back. Ain’t nothin’
to what you and Henrietta talkin’.”
“So, who’s the other guy?”
“You sure are in
my business!” I turned my back to him and stepped over to the crockpot to check
on my turkey stew. Cameron had turned his nose up about eating it the first
time I gave it to him, but he “disliked” it enough to eat two bowls full. I
chuckled at the memory.
“Sounds as
though you really like this new friend of yours,” Derrick said.
He must have assumed I was thinking about
Dr. Wilson.
“You worryin’
‘bout the wrong thing,” I turned the tables, shaking my spoon at him. “I
saw how all those young ladies looked at you today at church. You the
one attracting folks’ eyes. Where’s your wedding band at, anyway?”
“Twyla kept it.
She says I don’t deserve to wear it.” His eyes got all fixed and glassy. “What
am I gonna do?” Then bent over and hit his head on top of the table a few
times. “I was so stupid.”
I had a mind to
let him sit there for the next ten minutes beating himself up, literally. But
the Holy Spirit reminded me of Romans 8:1. No condemnation to those in
Christ.
“Derrick, stop
beating your head on the table.” Now it was my turn to put my hand on his
shoulder and stand between him and all the shame and guilt the enemy wanted to
bring. “You done wrong, but God knew you would do it before you even thought
about doing it. And He still came into your heart despite you. Why don’t you
pray and then give Twyla a call. Invite her and the baby over for dinner, we
got plenty.”
He winced. “She
won’t even talk to me. There’s no way. I messed up big time. Maybe I should let
her go, you know? Start over. Just chalk this first marriage up to a life
lesson, move on and do my best to be a good father to Kionna if Twyla will let me.”
I asked him
point-blank, “Is that what you want to do?”
“No,” he quickly
replied. “But what choice do I have if Twyla doesn’t forgive me?”
“She ain’t gon’
have a reason to forgive you if you don’t let her know you still care.”
“But what if
she’s still mad?”
“What you think
– she’s supposed to be happy you cheated on her? She supposed to
sleep on it and wake up feeling better about it the next day?”
“I didn’t cheat
on her…technically,” he tried.
I put a hand on
my hip and stared him
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