Chapter 10 #2
He swayed side to side the smallest bit, fingers tapping his thighs like drumsticks.
Nervousness was natural for any child facing disciplinary trouble, but such physical manifestations often preceded meltdowns for Justus.
I was relieved when he stopped swaying and breathed deeply as if silently counting like his therapist instructed.
“Technically, Mom, it’s not a class. It’s an afterschool enrichment program. ”
One of the benefits of not having a child until my mid-thirties was, I was mature and patient. So claimed Mama and Granny. I reminded myself of that questionable opinion while eyeing Justus. “Semantics, son. Class or program, unacceptable behavior is unacceptable. Right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Did you and Mr. Giles have a sleepover?”
It was an innocent question, not a tit-for-tat comeback or off-handed disrespect. Still, I needed the Lord to uncrack my face from that hit. I pretended not to notice Mama watching me with laser-eyed curiosity. “Mr. Giles is back home in Chicago.”
And, no, we didn’t have a sleepover. Technically. Paul briefly dozed off after doing what we did but was up and headed to his hotel to pack for his flight long before dawn.
“He reminds me of Dad.”
I clutched that redirect from what did or didn’t happen in my oasis. “They’re nice men.”
“No, not like that. I mean he and Dad almost look like the same person.”
“You know what, Baby J? I always thought Rodney and Paul favored each other.”
I stared from my mother to my son, wondering what they saw that I didn’t.
Rodney and Paul were two very different people with distinct personalities and admirable qualities.
They were kind, intelligent family men who happened to be delightful to the eyes.
Paul was more extroverted and playful than Rodney; the latter was borderline genius and a touch nerdy.
But both possessed a laid-back sexy swagger I found appealing.
And both are six-one. Solid, but muscular. Same pecan complexion. Expertly groomed. With fashion sense and good taste in cologne…
That thought was background smoke to my epiphany.
Rodney wore locs while Paul’s head was shaved.
Rodney had dimples in both cheeks. Paul solely on the left.
Acknowledging their deep voices and calming ways, I felt as if a brisk wind blew fog away, leaving me to see their stark similarities.
Truth took my breath away, left me wondering which came first—the chicken or the egg? Paul Giles or Rodney Adams?
“I need to check my email.”
Mama and Justus immediately clustered up next to me as I abandoned my man-on-repeat conundrum temporarily.
“Are you checking for your grad school acceptance?”
I nodded at Justus while scrolling my inbox.
“Wait! Let’s call Bria and Shay.” Mama patted her pockets. “Never mind. I forgot my phone in the car. We’ll bring them up to speed and let them know you got in.”
“You mean if.”
“I mean when.”
I offered Mama an appreciative smile.
“Mom, you got an email!”
They pressed in so close I nearly lost my balance. “Where?”
Justus pointed at my screen. “Right there. You need me to open it?”
My heart pounded. My hands shook. I stared at my phone, too nervous to touch it. “No… but you can hug me while I do it…” Inhaling, exhaling, I opened a possibly fate-changing email and read aloud as my son wrapped his slender arms around my waist.
Dear Ms. Stanford,
On behalf of the Master’s in Education Graduate Admissions Committee at the University of Texas, Austin, we are pleased to recommend you for admission…
“I got in…” My stunned whisper was lost as Mama and Justus started hollering. I whispered it again, helping my mind to embrace the blessing before tossing my hands towards the sky and screaming my praise.
“I know that’s right! Bless His name.” Mama flung her arms around Justus’ that were yet about me so that the three of us were a little brown bundle of happiness.
“That’s cool, Mom. Congrats!”
“Baby girl, you’re stepping in high cotton.”
I kissed Justus on the cheek while laughing at Mama echoing one of Granny’s sayings. “I’m standing on the shoulders of the ancestors and angels.”
“Amen. Call your sisters!”
I accessed my contacts, but my intentions were interrupted by a name dominating my screen as a call came in. “Hold on. It’s Miss Hester.”
“Miss Hester? Why’s she calling?” Mama leaned in, looking at my screen.
Hester Greer had been my grandparents’ neighbor the past forty years.
She was that grandmother who sat on her front porch watching everything, correcting misbehaving children, or offering greetings.
With limited mobility she relied on a walker, but very little happened on the block that Miss Hester wasn’t aware of.
I’d taught several of her great-grandchildren and she found pleasure in calling to share their current activities.
“Probably an offspring update. I’ll tell her I’ll call her back. Hi, Miss Hester—”
“Lynette, baby, seen your mama lately? I called her cellular but she’s not answering.”
Something in her voice put my celebratory joy on pause. “Mama’s right here. She left her phone in the car. Is something wrong?”
“I believe so. There’s an ambulance at Terracina’s—”
“An ambulance?”
Mama snatched the phone before I could say another word. “It’s LaVeda, Miss Hester. What’s going on?”
“Mom, what’s happening?”
I quieted my son with a finger to my lips and pulled him beside me. I held his hand while eagle-eyeing my mother, wishing I could hear what Miss Hester was saying. But hearing wasn’t necessary. Mama’s horrified expression told everything.
“We’re on our way.” Mama disconnected, returned my phone, and took off walking.
“Is Granny okay?” That shot out of me as I pulled Justus along, hot on Mama’s heels.
“I don’t know. Bert’s car isn’t at Mama’s. Lord, if my sister isn’t where she should be and something happened to my mother…” Her words floated away on a flash flood of fear.
Justus suddenly stopped as if afraid to move. “Mom, what’s wrong with Granny?” His eyes grew wide and he took frantic breaths. “Why’s an ambulance there?” He went from rocking to pacing in a tight circle before I could intervene.
I knew not to restrain him physically. He was stimming. It was his central nervous system’s way of helping him cope with stress, anxiety, upset, overwhelm, or crisis.
“Close your eyes and slow your breathing.” Mama circled back when she heard my caution. “Can you do that?” I waited until he nodded and his pacing and breathing slowed before offering additional comfort and silent prayers. “Everything’ll be okay. Go with Nana, please.”
My mother was a soothing presence for my child; and I couldn’t have her blood pressure spiking.
I needed them both to remain calm, which I knew they would in the presence of the other.
I hugged Justus gently, my face buried against his soft hair.
“I have to run to my classroom to get my things. I’ll meet y’all there. ”
I watched them hurry off before heading in the opposite direction, calling Aunt Bert in the process. When my call went to voicemail, I took to running, praying, forgetting the assurance I’d given Justus and fighting horrifying fears.
Aunt Bert’s car was in the shop for servicing, meaning Uncle Ross had dropped her off. She had in fact been at Granny’s all along.
Exhausted after her recent travels and a day of elder care, she’d dozed off only to awaken and find our beloved gone. She’d jumped up in a panic, run in search of Granny, entangling her foot and tripping.
Over what, she couldn’t remember. But she’d landed hard on her left knee, shattering her patella. Surgery to repair the damage might be necessary.
EMTs had responded in minutes, the arrival of the ambulance alerting Miss Hester and half the neighborhood.
Aunt Bert was taken to the nearest emergency room pleading to be let out so she could attend to far more urgent business.
My beloved grandmother was missing.