It's Not All Downhill From Here

by Terry McMillan

  “I heard. I would think it might be nice, though, Ma.”

  From her dresser mirror I saw her eyes move from east to west.

  “I don’t want her knowing all my business. Odessa acts like she’s older than I am, you know.”

  “I think I do.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s because she hasn’t had sex in twenty years. Maybe thirty. Anyway, she is nosy as hell, and I don’t want to have to answer personal questions when she’s not a doctor.”

  “Well, like you said, she’s not in your wing, so not to worry.”

  “It’s a good thing she works nights, because I’ll be honest: I can fake being asleep when she taps on my door. I know the night nurse’s tap.”

  “So, Ma, I was wondering if you might want to come visit me at my house.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just feel more comfortable right here. Carl’s service was the end of my being sociable. I don’t like to travel any farther than I need to. That’s when you know you’re old. You haven’t been feeling that way, I hope.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  “I’d tell you, Ma.”

  “Odessa told me you were diagnosed with diabetes. Do you check your numbers regularly?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  “Every day?”

  “Almost.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Loretha. You’ve gotta check them every single day. I’ve been diabetic for more than thirty years.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “It just didn’t cross my mind.”

  “Everything crosses your mind, Ma.”

  “Because I didn’t want you girls to worry. Besides, I take my medication and my numbers are good. They test us here.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.”

  “Are you getting any exercise?”

  “I just started,” I say.

  “Stop lying. You’re thicker than I’ve ever seen you.”

  “Okay! But I am about to start. And that’s the truth, Ma.”

  “I’ll tell you something. Back when I was young, only athletes exercised. We played dodgeball in gym class and did some other silly shit—but if we had known back then that we needed to exercise on a regular basis our entire lives, a whole lot of my friends would probably still be here.”

  “So, are you telling me you exercise, Ma?”

  “Of course I do. We have great classes here.”

  “And you go?”

  “I’m in better shape than you and Odessa.”

  I could see that this was true, which was embarrassing.

  “What do you do?”

  “Water aerobics. Sit-ups. We have dance class. Sometimes I have been known to jump rope.”

  She started laughing.

  “Thank you, Jane Fonda! But seriously, Ma, I do know all this stuff.”

  “Diabetes is no joke, baby. Half the people on your daddy’s side had it, though they were also alcoholics.”

  I have never heard her mention my father’s family. I wanted to ask her about Odessa’s father’s side, but I didn’t think it was appropriate. Both men passed away years ago.

  “Anyway, you need to stop acting like you live twice. So, have you been reading the little tidbits I’ve sent?” Ma asked.

  “I have. Especially my horoscopes and the AARP articles. They’re encouraging and inspiring and usually find me in the right moments.”

  “I like mailing them. I like putting the stamp on the envelope and addressing it. And I like imagining you opening them and sitting there in Carl’s chair reading them with B. B. King at your feet. Now, put my hair in a ponytail and get out of here. The Voice is coming on.”

  * * *

  —

  I was dozing off watching reruns of Scandal when I heard my phone ring. I looked over at the clock and it was two twenty in the morning. I knew when a phone rings at this time of night it almost always means somebody is in the hospital or dead. My caller ID said BLOCKED. I knew instantly who it was and I put my hand over my heart, which I suddenly felt thumping so loudly I could hear it.

  “Peggy?”

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  “Cinnamon told me you called her from a blocked number. Please tell me Jalecia is okay.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I haven’t seen her in a week, but she owes me some money for letting her stay here. I’m doing all I can to keep her out of trouble, but she is eating me out of house and home, and she drinks too much and I’m worried about her safety. I could use three hundred dollars unless you want her to come live with you.”

  I sat up to turn on the light, but moonlight was already making my room glow.

  “If she wants to come live with me, she can.”

  “She doesn’t want to. That much I do know. We can talk about that another time. I want you to know that she’s safe here with me, but sometimes she disappears and binges. And I just hope she’s not in jail again. It would be a felony this time and she couldn’t just come home. She might be with her lowlife boyfriend, but she’s not answering her cell. Wait. Hold on a minute, Loretha, maybe that’s her trying to get through.”

  I heard a click as she put me on hold.

  I sat there staring at the moon, hating the fact that my daughter was calling her trifling aunt instead of me.

  “She’s downstairs. I was right. She’s been holed up with her loser boyfriend who’s got three kids and no job. I don’t know from one day to the next what she’s going to do or not do, but can you Western Union me some money before we’re both standing on your doorstep because we don’t have a roof over our heads? My social security check won’t be here for another two weeks and I’d really appreciate it, Loretha.”

  “Okay! But please, would you ask her to call me?”

  “Thank you. But I wouldn’t count on it. She’s scared of you. But I’m working on her. Just give me some time. Sorry for waking you up.”

  Click.

  I just looked at the phone. Scared of me? She’s working on her? Who did this bitch think she was? For a minute, I thought maybe I had dreamed this, but the moon was still there and when I heard B. B. King walk into my bedroom—something he rarely does—I was pretty sure it was because he also knew something wasn’t right.

  * * *

  —

  In the morning I drove to a drugstore where I always see people in line for Western Union. When it was finally my turn, I picked up the phone and waited for all the prompts that asked me the amount I wanted to send, the name of the person I was sending it to, and their email address or phone number, but I realized I still didn’t have Peggy’s number. She hadn’t given it to me.

  I was sure she’d call back.

  * * *

  —

  “I’ve been approved for the surgery,” Lucky told me after we agreed to meet for dinner.

  It had been two whole days and I hadn’t heard back from Peggy. I hadn’t bothered to share any of what happened with anybody, especially Lucky, but we hadn’t seen each other since that day at her house. I figured they’d all find out eventually so what was the difference?

  “But now I’m scared,” she said.

  For once, we had decided to eat at a healthy, cafeteria-style restaurant called Lemonade and from about eight different salads, we chose four and a bowl of chunky homemade vegetable soup. That is, until we slid our trays a little farther down and spotted those pots of red miso short ribs, Thai chicken meatballs, and shredded jerk chicken floating in thick golden sauce, which was when we just looked at each other as if to say, Fuck it, let’s splurge before we both start our disappearing diets. We had to order the seasoned rice and bread. At checkout, we decided to get the salad and soup to go and bought two of those little round m
acaroon cookies that come from France. I ordered watermelon mint lemonade and Lucky decided to be adventurous and got the same.

  We did not say a solitary word until our bowls and plates were clean, and then Lucky said, “Joe wants a divorce.”

  And I said, “I don’t blame him.”

  And she said, “I don’t want a divorce.”

  And I said, “I don’t blame you.”

  And she said, “What should I do?”

  And I said, “Fight for him.”

  And she said, “Why?”

  And I said, “Because he still loves you.”

  And she said, “How do you know that?”

  And I said, “Because I just know.”

  And she said, “Are you going to eat that cookie?”

  And I said, “No.”

  And she said, “Me either.”

  But when we stood up, we both picked up our plastic bags and I saw Lucky drop the cookie inside her purse.

  * * *

  —

  As I crossed the street to a valet stand, my phone rang and of course it was Peggy.

  “I thought you cared about your daughter, Loretha?”

  “You might want to watch your tone, Peggy. I don’t need your judgment on how much I care about my daughter. I don’t know if you’re drinking with my daughter or not, but you do realize your phone number is blocked, right? Does it now make more sense to you why I wasn’t able to wire the money?”

  “My bad,” she said. “FYI, I have been drug and alcohol free for over twenty years. I’m also disabled and living off social security, and I have no children of my own. For some unknown reason, your daughter has attached herself to me. I’m just trying to help her get her life back on track, so give me some damn credit.”

  And then she gave me her number.

  “How soon can you send it?”

  “Is Jalecia there?”

  “No. But she’ll be back. This is the way she rolls. I would certainly appreciate it if, in the future, you could show me a little more respect for caring about your daughter’s welfare.”

  “I do respect you, Peggy.”

  “Then make it five hundred.”

  And she hung up.

  “Bird is doing great,” Korynthia said. “And I’m on my way home, so please tell everybody I’ll be at Sadie’s.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. I was walking around the empty warehouse she had arranged for me to look at.

  “Yes, I am. He agreed to start another twenty-eight-day treatment session.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it, Ko. I’m starting to wonder if one of those places would be good for Jalecia. She can’t seem to stick to AA meetings. She’s giving their coins back faster than she gets them.”

  “I think they have to hit bottom before they realize they need help getting back up.”

  “But I don’t want her to fall that hard.”

  “Well, I think we just have to be patient and do what we can. Pray. Anyway, so, were you able to take a look at that facility I sent you the link to? It might be too big.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m in here now! Can you hear my echo?”

  “No. But yell.”

  And I did.

  “Dang. Sounds like you could roller-skate in there. But all of these kinds of spaces look bigger empty. Do me a favor. Don’t rule it out yet. Let’s go look at it together once I get back.”

  “Will do, although I can picture it.”

  “By the way, I’m thinking of selling my house for real this time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I could use the money.”

  “But you own that house, don’t you?”

  “No, I’ve borrowed against it over the years to help my kids and their kids and blah blah blah. But I had it appraised last year and it’s gone way up. Anyway, I’m pulling into a gas station right now. Please don’t mention any of this to the girls since I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet.”

  “You’re serious this time?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But I don’t need to live in a big-ass house by myself. And it might be nice to be closer to Bird and my daughters, and my grandkids and those bad-ass great-grandkids.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You’re only two hours away as it is and they don’t exactly go out of their way to come up here unless they need something from you. All of us have been wondering why they can’t get in their damn cars for your birthday or during Christmas—you’re always running down there and always bailing their broke asses out.”

  “Well, why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Lo?”

  “Look. Why don’t you get a second and third and fourth opinion and let us vote on it?”

  “Vote? You can’t vote on my life.”

  “We’re your longest friends, which makes us family, don’t you think?”

  “That’s a stupid-ass question, Lo.”

  “Don’t our opinions count?”

  “Not Lucky’s and not Sadie’s, which leaves Poochie, who isn’t even there. Whatever, it was just a thought I was having on this long boring-ass drive back to Pasadena.”

  “Which is your home. See you tomorrow, huzzie. And I’m glad to hear Bird is back on track. Bye.”

  As soon as I hung up, I pulled a folding chair across the concrete floor and sat down. I didn’t want Ko to leave me here to deal with Sadie and Lucky and Poochie by myself. Ko would not like living in San Diego or being around all those damn kids, who would just get on her nerves and make her wish she had us there. Plus, I would miss her. I moaned a sigh of relief, as if I had willed her not to move.

  I finally looked around the place. There were a lot of huge windows, almost floor to ceiling, which made me somewhat uncomfortable. This wasn’t exactly a busy street, and what if I was in here alone at night?

  “Hello, anybody, can you hear me?” I yelled.

  The young Asian agent who had brought me opened the back door, stuck her head inside, and said, “I can!”

  We both laughed.

  This was not a good space to sell beauty products. And you really could roller-skate in here. Or, more appropriately for us senior citizens, ballroom dance. I decided to keep looking.

  * * *

  —

  When Cinnamon called and said, “Grandma! I might get to try out,” I felt obligated to go over for dinner to hear all about it. She was talking about The Voice, of course. I was wondering if maybe they’d given her a few free singing lessons as a perk, because I still didn’t think she’d hit very many pleasant notes at Carl’s Repasse. I also hadn’t seen the twins in two months. Cinnamon had also told me the apartment felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, almost to the point where it felt like it was closing in on them because of all the gadgets and toys and strollers and what have you, so I was eager to see if I could help them arrange it better. But before I rang the doorbell, it dawned on me that they were the ones who should live in my mother’s house. After all, they were young, struggling, and on the right track. They’d also shown how much they’d matured and they deserved a break much more than my ungrateful sister.

  They buzzed me in, and I could not believe it when the elevator in the lobby opened and there was Odessa, looking better than I’d seen her look in years. Her hair was styled like she had finally put some thought into it, twisted like rope and the strands of gray almost sparkling. And was that a tangerine dress? I have never seen her in a bright color.

  “Well, hello there, Sister,” she said, and gave me a bear hug. “What a nice surprise! I know you weren’t coming to see me. How are you?”

  I couldn’t believe the upbeat tone of her voice, especially after her parting words after dinner in her dungeon upstairs. I also hadn’t heard her sound like this in almost twenty years. I was wondering if she’d finally rediscovered sex
because the only other thing I could think of that would make her voice go up a few octaves was money.

  “I’m good, Odessa. My oh my, don’t you look pretty! How are you?”

  When the doors of the elevator started jerking, begging to close, I dropped my hand and let them.

  “I’ve been well, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Sister.”

  Sister?

  “What’s going on with you, Odessa? You look and sound different.”

  “Well,” she said, and slid her very nice black-leather-that-looked-new purse over her shoulder, “I’ve recently gotten some good news.”

  “I love good news. What kind?”

  “Well, first of all, my attorneys sent me a letter advising me that I, along with hundreds of other innocent and honest senior citizens, was the victim of some kind of scam when I took out those loans that caused me to lose my home. And we’re all going to get some kind of settlement.”

  “That’s so good to hear, Odessa!”

  “I won’t see the money anytime soon but at least I know it’s coming. I can’t wait to move out of here.”

  All I was thinking was: You ungrateful bitch! But I just said, “I know you’re used to more space.”

  “A lot more space. But I’m not one to complain. I’m glad you and Carl had enough sense to buy this building, but I don’t like knowing people are walking above and below me and on both sides. But at least I know I won’t have to live here forever.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced.”

  “Don’t go there, Loretha. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I’m grateful. And I apologize for what I said about suing you. I was angry. You’re my sister. Anyway, I know you’re headed up to see those spoiled rotten twins, so get to it.”

  “Where are you headed looking so nice?”

  “I’d rather not tell you. Yet.”

  “Well, have a good time, whatever and wherever it is.”

  She waved and headed out the front door. I sure wished I knew where she was going.