Chapter 18 #2
Her actions stopped abruptly and she thrust her hands beneath her thighs.
Raising my gaze to her face, I encountered her stare.
I offered a smile and a discreet thumbs-up, knowing she didn’t need my approval or acceptance.
And she definitely didn’t need my permission to hold space in this place.
There was no condescension or presumptuousness on my part.
Just connective humanity, and perhaps recognition and understanding.
She visibly relaxed, placing her hands, palms down, on her lap. She returned my smile with a nod that conveyed relief and thank you.
I refocused on the icebreaker, and a young sister comically citing John Boy from The Waltons as her celebrity crush in her teens.
“Listen, I was raised by very religious grandparents and had limited options and restricted TV. It was him or Mayberry’s Andy Griffith.
I decided John Boy was boo thang worthy. ”
I laughed so hard I got light-headed and saw black spots sparking in my peripheral vision. I was suddenly dizzy. Even nauseous.
What the…
I closed my eyes and waited for black spots to disappear and the fuzziness in my head to clear.
“Everything okay?”
I looked at the man seated to my right leaning into my space and slowly nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”
I wasn’t.
The floaters had vanished, but I was experiencing a slight spinning sensation. I considered going to the lobby to catch my breath and put my head between my knees but didn’t want the possibility of unsteadiness when I stood.
Rather than subject myself to that I dug through my swag bag until I found peppermints plucked from a candy bowl.
I popped one in my mouth and took slow sips of water.
I’d have to contact my doctor’s office again to see if there’d been any cancellations in hopes of getting an appointment sooner than next month.
Girl, for now just breathe.
“You have three-point-three seconds to get to it, sis—”
“For real! Quit playing with our emotions!”
I chuckled at Shay and Bria’s impatience. Our Sister Circle wasn’t until tomorrow, same as every Saturday, but I’d called my siblings after leaving tonight’s event. Nervous. And excited.
“You’re laughing, but we’re serious, Nette. Hurry up and tell us your decision.”
“Decision?” Bria’s tone was incredulous as she started an early day from her side of the globe. “What’s there to decide? It’s ‘yes and where do I sign?’”
“Right! And she better not say nothing about it being expensive because smart schools offer boss chicks scholarships,” Shay insisted. “And even if it’s not a full ride Nette can get tuition reimbursement through her little school district.”
Bria’s laughter was bright. “And if they play the fool and won’t reimburse in full, we got this. Whatever middle sis needs, we’re here for it. Even if we have to rob two banks to get it.”
I barged in when Thing One and Two took a breath. “Would either of you like to take a break from deciding my life?”
“No! Now, what did you decide?” Bria inquired with the authority of her first-born position.
“Hold on. I’m picking Justus up from Mama’s and pulling into her driveway and only want to go through this once.
” I ignored my sisters’ irritation as I slid from my car and headed up the walkway.
I did so at a safe pace, not wanting to rush and risk a recurrence of earlier dizziness, which I withheld from my sisters to avoid alarming them or subjecting myself to their take-over spirits.
“Hey, either of you ever remember hearing the name Grandma Zinnie?”
“No, but it sounds very picking-cotton-plantation-esque.”
I snickered. “Shay, you’re stupid. But for real. No memories of Granny, Granddad, or one of the elders mentioning anyone by that name?”
“Not really,” Bria admitted. “Why? Is she an ancestor or something?”
Shay wasn’t having it. “Bria, please don’t get this child started! We will lose her to Ol’ Dixie and the 1760s. Go in the house and stay on task, Lynette Cherie.”
Laughing, I used my copy of my mother’s house key and let myself in. “Mama? Justus?”
“We’re in the family room, Nette.”
I found them snuggled beneath a blanket, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching Shrek. Which? I wasn’t sure. It was one of my son’s favorite animated cartoons, and the franchise had so many I’d lost track.
“Hi, Mom. How was your thing?”
“Fantastic!” I kissed my son’s forehead and sat on my mother’s oversized ottoman, where their feet were propped up. “Your aunts are on the phone.” I put my device in speaker mode.
“Is that my Jussy Poo?” Shay’s squeal incited a gushing fest from my sisters that Justus found humorous. They went back and forth, greeting and chatting until Mama jumped in.
“I also happen to be here.”
“Hello, Mama Dearest. Middle sis has something to tell us.”
“Thanks, Bria,” I droned before clearing my throat. “So… tonight’s event was informative and helped my decision-making process.” My family listened as I recounted the evening.
With additional latecomers arriving throughout the night, we wound up with a nice mix and demographic.
Even so, despite age differences, those youngsters were sharp and had their heads on straight.
I loved hearing their perspectives when we broke into groups based on programs of interest that were facilitated by our department representatives.
By the end of the evening, I’d made connections, experienced camaraderie and understanding, and felt embraced by a tribe that was a whole vibe.
We gelled so well there was talk of creating a coffee klatch to stay connected and support each other throughout the school year.
If we attended.
“I hope you decide to enroll, Lynette. Our campus would be lucky to have your kindness.” Kara, the greeter, had offered that sweetness as I left and headed for the parking lot, feeling thankful and blessed.
“And what’s your decision?”
I looked at my mother, appreciating the opportunity the evening had afforded.
It helped deflate apprehension and mystique by not merely mixing and mingling with fellow students but visiting and touring the campus that could potentially become a main hub of my existence.
“My decision, my beautiful familia, is… heck yeah!”
My family’s celebratory eruption made my head spin with Justus jumping up and down, my sisters screaming, and Mama doing the Cabbage Patch.
My heart soaked up their wild love. When they settled into sane humans again, I answered their numerous questions.
Afterward Mama prayed, summoning heaven’s blessings as tears bathed my face.
I took a breath and quietly confessed when she finished. “I’ll probably need everyone’s help—”
“Probably?” Mama frowned like something stank before catching herself and fixing her face. “We’re here however you need.”
My mind told me I couldn’t burden others to achieve my goals. Pride wanted to stiffen my neck. I didn’t let it as thoughts surfaced of that stage play and Zanitha Freeman. She’d endured the harshest situations. Never alone. Always with her sister-women.
My heart said kick pride aside and learn from Grandma Zinnie.
“Son, get your things.” The day had caught up with me by the time we disconnected with my siblings. I was yawning. My bed was calling. I stood and stretched, remembering what I’d neglected. “Mama, can I look through The Treasury to see what I can find on Grandma Zinnie?”
“Help yourself. You know where to find it in my office.”
“Justus, you can keep watching your movie but be ready to go when I get back.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I dialed Rodney as I headed down the hall.
“Hey, Nette.” He sounded breathless.
“Is this a good time?” Last I checked, he wasn’t in a relationship. Still, I had a ridiculous ping of something colored like jealousy imagining him engaged in naked activities responsible for funny breathing.
“Yeah… just finished jogging.”
“Oh. Okay. I’m doing it.” I flipped up the light switch and paused to let my eyes adjust before heading to the bookcase in my mother’s office. I wasn’t trying to throw him off the Justus Relocation scent. I knew he’d be genuinely happy and share my excitement.
I accepted his loud congratulations while pulling a volume from The Treasury.
Mama and Aunt Pauletta had compiled data in chronological order with separate entries for each century.
Seventeen-hundreds. Eighteen-hundreds. Nineteen-hundreds.
Two-thousands, respectively. I grabbed the eighteen-hundreds and spread it open on Mama’s desk.
I sat and ran my hand over the book, feeling the same awe I did as a child.
Except it was heightened. As were my other senses.
Turning pages in search of mid-century entries and Grandma Zinnie felt like sitting outside of myself.
I was squinting and scouring the past with intensity that left me light-headed.
I was so involved I knew I wasn’t fully giving my conversation with Rodney full attention. I closed the book and slipped it underneath my arm to dive in again at home.
“Rod, I’m not opposed to our original plan of Justus coming to California when he starts high school. That’s a pivotal time and he’ll need you. Right now, he’s only in fifth grade and I don’t think he’s ready yet. I’m not ready,” I admitted.
“When do you think you might be?”
“The thirty-fifth of February.” I stood and moved towards the door. Or rather the door moved towards me. Growing. Pulsating. Coming in and receding.
I closed my eyes and gripped the desk, feeling dizzy as hell. “What the…”
“Mom, can I stay the night with Nana so we can finish our Shrek marathon?” My son came down the hallway, sounding as if he was in a tunnel. Or maybe it was me.
I took cautious steps in the direction of his voice as the earth shifted beneath my feet. I lost hold of the book and saw it fall. I stared at it, tried to bend down to pick it up, only to spiral.
“Mom!” My child’s cry came with me as the world went black and I crashed into something like peace.