It's Not All Downhill From Here

by Terry McMillan

  “That’s very nice of you, Ma.”

  “I know. Because I’m nice. And please don’t tell Odessa I told you about the chump change she got because it’ll sound like gossip. She thinks my memory is going but I remember what I want to remember. Now give me a hug and next time, call first.”

  I had called.

  * * *

  —

  I examined my green hair more closely when I got home. My friends had always made fun of me for not knowing how to swim, and after seeing all of them swimming laps on the cruise, I promised myself I was going to learn. Plus, at one of my appointments, Dr. Alexopolous asked if I had a pool and when I said yes, she told me that swimming was an excellent form of exercise and that the loose skin hanging from my upper arms and the inner tube forming around my waist would disappear if I started swimming.

  Bitch.

  But it was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. B. B. King loved watching me learn how to time my breathing on top of and underneath the water. I learned how to kick. How to relax and float. And my tall, handsome, sexy, Hawaiian teacher, who was definitely from the Big Island, made me never want to get out of the pool.

  In twenty hours, I learned that water was not worth fearing. That waves were meant to ride or swim through. That I needed to learn how long to hold my breath and when to blow air out. But when he asked if I would like to learn how to do the backstroke, I told him no.

  I was already looking up.

  * * *

  —

  Ever since I got back from the cruise, B. B. King has not been that excited about getting out of the back seat when we go to the dog park. In fact, he gives me a look of boredom, as if he was asking, Is this the only park in town?

  I took him to the vet to see if I might have been missing something. Other than increasing his steroids to help minimize the inflammation caused by his arthritis, the doctor said B. B. King was healthy. But he also said B. B. King might be a bit lonely and that dogs have emotions just like us humans.

  As soon as we walked out I drove straight to a shelter. When we got inside, there was a lot of barking and crying, but I knew B. B. King was excited because his tail started swaying back and forth like a windshield wiper.

  The shelter volunteer looked just like the daughter of that Crocodile Hunter guy and after introducing myself, I said, “This is B. B. King and he needs some company.”

  She rubbed his head and ears, then flipped her thick pigtails behind her shoulders and said, “Hi there, B. B. King! A wittle lonely, are we?”

  B. B. King looked at her as if to say, What do you think we came in here for? Yes.

  “Does the sex or age matter?” she asked.

  “A little younger than B.B. here, but not too frisky. He was fixed a long time ago, so a female would be okay. I don’t really care about the breed as long as he or she is not mean.”

  “Then follow me. B. B. King? How’d you come up with such a cool name for him?”

  “He’s named after one of my favorite blues singers.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” she said.

  It’s times like this when I realize how old I am, and things that are common knowledge to me are foreign to young folks. But I don’t feel too bad because one day she’ll be old, too. If she’s lucky.

  We walked on the concrete floor down a corridor past sad, bored, and occasionally abused dogs, but at least now they were safe and in clean cages. The volunteer stopped at a cage where there was a white Lab about the size B. B. King used to be, asleep on her little paws. Or at least she was until Mr. King tried to put his snout between a space in the rectangle fence, which was when she jumped up and her tail started wagging and she tried to poke her snout through the space. When I saw Mr. King’s tail swishing faster than the speed of light, I said, “We’ll take her.”

  * * *

  —

  I was buzzed in and could not believe it when the elevator doors opened and there was my sister, looking better than she looked on the cruise.

  “Well, hello there, sister,” she said, and gave me a bear hug. “What a nice surprise! How are you?”

  I was thrilled to still hear the upbeat tone in her voice. I hadn’t heard her sound like this in over thirty years. Maybe Ma was telepathic. Maybe Odessa had finally rediscovered sex.

  “I’m good, Odessa. Don’t you look pretty! How are you and how’ve you been since the cruise?”

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

  I loved hearing her call me Sis.

  “So what’s going on with you, Odessa?”

  “Well, first of all, I got my settlement. If that’s what it can be called.”

  “But that’s good to hear. Something is better than nothing.”

  “And I got another job.”

  “Ma told me you left Valley View. Had enough of Ma?”

  “Ma had nothing to do with it.”

  “So, what kind of work?”

  “Well, I drive.”

  “Drive what?”

  “Uber.”

  “Are you kidding me, Odessa? Aren’t you too old? And isn’t it dangerous?”

  “No, I’m not kidding and I’m not too old and it’s not dangerous. In fact, I’m having a lot of fun and I’m meeting the most interesting people, you just would not believe it.”

  “But aren’t you scared?”

  “No. I won’t go where I think it might be unsafe. And drunks are harmless. I’ve had to help a few find their cars the night after partying and they always tip the best. The worst that has happened is when they throw up, but Uber pays me to get my car detailed and I just take it to the car wash. Plus, I now have rubber mats.”

  “And how long do you plan on doing this?”

  “Until I don’t want to. I’m my own boss. I get paid every single day and I don’t have to worry about calling in sick.”

  “Do you always get this dolled up to drive with Uber?”

  “No. I’m not driving tonight. I’m being driven. It’s called a date, Sis. Tell you more when there’s more to tell.”

  * * *

  —

  I heard the babies before I rang the bell, and as soon as Cinnamon opened the door they were both holding on to her long skirt. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, and she screamed, “Grandma, what a surprise!”

  “Hi there, little cuties,” I said, and they let go of her skirt and did that Frankenstein walk over to me and grabbed for my hands. But I was holding a surprise in one of them.

  Jonas came out of the kitchen, kissed me on the cheek, and picked up Handsome, who started kicking to be put back down. He wanted to practice walking. Pretty decided to sit down to see what was going to happen next.

  “I’m sorry for not calling,” I said.

  “No apologies necessary,” Jonas said. “Is everything okay?”

  Cinnamon looked a little worried.

  “It’s not my mom, is it?”

  “No. No news is good news with her, I think.”

  “So true. So, what brings you over, Grandma? Jonas has made an amazing tofu stir-fry if you’d like to have dinner with us.”

  “No thanks.”

  “It’s also got ginger, carrots, string beans, and garlic, and a little soy sauce. You won’t even know it’s good for you.”

  “I’ve made some improvements to my diet, but tofu isn’t one of them. Not to change the subject, but I was just wondering how soon you all might want to move into your new home?”

  I pulled the key ring out from behind my back and held it up, dangling the three keys in the air.

  They started screaming and jumping up and down and I was being hugged and kissed on both cheeks. Handsome started rocking his body from side to side and Pretty looked confused, but then realized how happy everybody else was so she just started
clapping and singing her favorite song in a language even I understood.

  * * *

  —

  “So,” Dr. Alexopolous said with a smile, something I couldn’t remember seeing her do in all the years I’d been coming to see her. “You finally listened to me, I see.”

  I can’t believe how much I used to not like her. She is much nicer and the frown she used to wear is gone. Like maybe she’d had a little Botox. Her hair is thicker and I can tell it is a wig! Money well spent. She smiled at me again, and I wanted to take back all my mean thoughts, but it was too late so in my head I just asked God to forgive me.

  “So, what’s the verdict?”

  “Whatever you’ve been doing, keep doing it. Your A1C has dropped to a manageable number. And you’ve lost a little over twenty pounds since we saw you three months ago. You should give yourself a high five.”

  I gave her one instead.

  “So, what have you changed?”

  “I’ve been eating healthy and I’ve been exercising.”

  “I knew that, but I just wanted to hear you say it. I’m so pleased to see you’re making these changes, Mrs. Curry.”

  “You can call me Loretha.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows, wove her fingers together, and looked me in the eye.

  “Please know that I’m not trying to sound like that doctor on the TV show, but I just have to tell you that if you can view these changes as permanent and not as a temporary fix, you’ll probably be adding years to your life. Healthier years.”

  That landed.

  “I’m going to try,” I said.

  Dr. Alexopolous then leaned back in her chair, but this time she crossed her arms and looked at me with curiosity and empathy.

  “So tell me, Loretha. How is your daughter?”

  “I think she’s doing better.”

  “You mean you don’t know? She didn’t see either of the doctors?”

  “Oh, yes. She definitely did. She’s been at a twenty-eight-day treatment place and she opted to stay for another twenty-eight. She should be home soon.”

  “And will home be with you?”

  “I’m not sure what she’s going to want to do, but my door is open.”

  She stood up and held out her hand.

  I shook it.

  And she patted mine.

  “She took the right step. Life has a way of working out when we work at it. Stay the course and I’ll see you in three months. Before you know it, you’ll be America’s first Top Senior Model!”

  And she laughed.

  And so did I.

  “So, what’s this all about?” Lucky asked, looking at the dishes I spent hours making spread around the table on a lazy Susan.

  “It’s called dinner,” I said.

  “It’s really pretty. It doesn’t look like anything we’ve ever eaten here. I know you didn’t make all of this, Lo,” Sadie said.

  “I did. And, Lucky, you can eat everything on this table.”

  “I know exactly what it is,” Korynthia said. “It’s called a healthy meal and we should all just shut up for a minute and thank Loretha for taking the time to make all these beautiful dishes, then ask her to explain what the hell it is. And even if we don’t like it when we taste it, we should just all pretend like it’s delicious and eat it anyway, okay, Lo?”

  I threw a dish towel at her, but missed on purpose.

  “First of all, I would like to say: get used to this if you plan on eating here ever again. All of these mouthwatering dishes are from my diabetes cookbooks. Which I hope doesn’t spoil them for you, but too bad. Now I want to announce that the new House of Beauty and Glamour will have its grand opening in a few weeks and your invitations are under your plates.”

  And of course everybody just had to lift their plates up, but when I cleared my throat they slid them back.

  “Could you just tell us what the hell each one of these is, so I can decide what I want to take home?”

  I knew Lucky was going to be difficult, even though she’s been trying her best to lose the bitch that’s still huddling in a little corner somewhere deep inside her.

  “Okay. This is called chipotle grilled pork tenderloin with strawberry-avocado salsa. And this is spicy brown rice. That’s spinach and onion couscous. Those are salmon fishcakes. And the salad is spinach, feta, and goat cheese. As you can see, there is no bread, and I will never do this shit again if you keep giving me grief. I spent all afternoon preparing this meal for you huzzies to impress you. So, somebody please bless the food and then let’s eat up.”

  “Wait a minute,” Korynthia said. “Who is that cute little dog B. B. King has his arms around like she or he is his baby?”

  “That’s Billie Holiday. She’s a rescue dog. And apparently B.B. thinks he’s her stepfather. She has perked him up like a double shot of espresso.”

  Both dogs looked at us as soon as they heard their names.

  “Hi, B.B.!”

  “Hi, Billie!”

  “What is it with you naming dogs after our most beloved and revered singers, Loretha? What ever happened to Butch and Sparky and Princess?” Lucky asked.

  “I’m honoring their memory.”

  “But they’re dogs,” Lucky said. “Wait. I take that back. I’m trying to get used to not being negative. So please forgive me, bitches.”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking,” I said.

  “Not again,” Lucky said, but then crossed her lips and said, “By all means, let’s hear it.”

  Everybody threw their dinner napkins at her. Lucky threw them back with a smile.

  “Let’s bury calling each other bitches. We aren’t bitches. We’re lifelong girlfriends. Deal?”

  “Deal,” the chorus said.

  “Now, can we bless the food since some of it might need to be microwaved if we keep jabbering? How about you, big mouth?”

  Of course I pointed to Lucky.

  All of us closed our eyes and bowed our heads. But then we looked up because B.B. and Billie were snoring.

  “B. B. King, wake up!” Sadie yelled and tried not to laugh.

  He lifted his head and looked around like he didn’t know where he was. But he then dropped his head and closed his eyes and we heard nothing.

  “Okay,” Lucky said, as we bowed our heads again. “Lord, thank you for letting Loretha prepare what looks like an interesting meal that I hope is good, and please bless this food and our lifelong friendship. And even though we will always get on each other’s nerves, you know it’s all out of love. Please say hi to Poochie for us and let her know she will always have a seat at our table and in our hearts. We hope you continue to guide us and keep us healthy and safe and strong. Amen.”

  “Anything else you want to add?” Korynthia asked Sadie.

  “I loved every word of it,” Sadie said.

  “Why am I not surprised?” Lucky asked.

  “Okay, let’s eat,” I said. “And thank you, Lucky.”

  She rolled her eyes at everybody else and looked at me and said, “You’re quite welcome, Lo.”

  And we ate.

  And every bowl and plate on the table was empty. Of course, I had made extra of everything and stashed it in the back of the second shelf of the fridge for tomorrow because I knew they would eat it all since it was delicious. If only I’d known how tasty healthy could be, I would’ve been eating like this years ago.

  “Next time don’t be so damn stingy with the portions,” Ko said.

  “And give me the name of those cookbooks. I’m sure Joe would appreciate a meal like this, too.”

  We just smiled at her.

  Lucky then took a deep breath.

  “I would like to say that having gastric bypass surgery was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve decided not to beat myself up
anymore for allowing myself to become obese. I feel lucky to be alive. I’m not trying to get all mushy, but losing Poochie has helped me appreciate the fact that I have choices and it’s not too late to make healthier ones. And I know I can be a bitch, and I probably always will be, but I want to be a nicer bitch. And I hope you bitches—my bad: ladies—will keep on loving me anyway. Also, Joe and I have decided to stay put. We are thinking of turning the guesthouse, which he’s not living in anymore, into one of those Airbnb- or VRBO-type places, which is exactly what we’re going to be renting when we go to Panama, Costa Rica, Kenya, where we might go on safari even though I’m scared of big animals. All I know is right now is the best time of our lives and Joe and I have decided to milk it. But it’ll be low-fat.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “What about the reefer?”

  “I still take a hit every now and then, but it helps me balance.”

  “Balance what?” Sadie asked.

  “My equilibrium.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

  “Sometimes I do lose my balance. And marijuana helps.”

  “Whatever works,” Korynthia said. “But we’ll be able to tell if you’re stoned, so watch your step.”

  We all just applauded and laughed at the same time, which woke up B.B. and Billie so I walked over and let them out the side door.

  When I came back, Sadie waved her hand for Korynthia to go.

  “Well, ladies, I’m not turning my house into any Airbnb or VRBO. My wonderful new husband, Henry, is handy, on a whole lot of levels I might add, and he is fixing up the house to bring it up to the twenty-first century. So all of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren, including Bird’s little ones, will soon be able to come spend some weekends and the summer—but not the whole damn summer—with their grandma and their new grandpa. And, Loretha, FYI, I am going to be working at the House when it opens because selling real estate is not fun. I love the new House. It’s classy as hell and I think it was a blessing the old one got robbed. Anyway, Henry and I will be doing some traveling and might be joining Joe and Lucky from time to time, so let me know if I get vacation pay! So, there you have it.”