Sister Betty Says I Do

by Pat G'Orge-Walker

  But there was still the matter of that particular first lady being able to afford Le Posh. Ima, on the other hand, couldn’t afford one thing that was on the menu. Even the outfit she’d purchased had needed special authorization from her credit card company before the boutique would ring up the sale. She’d chosen to wear the expensive, modest, gold-colored two-piece dress with its knee-length hemline, its hand-stitched, embroidered bodice jacket, and its modest matching veiled and wide-brimmed hat. And so she hesitated when the waiter asked if she’d like a glass of water. According to her plan, if things worked out, it was Leotis who’d offer to pay for lunch and she’d let him.

  “Excuse me, madam. I would like to again offer you Le Posh complimentary water with lemon while you await the arrival of your guest.”

  It was the third time the snobbish man with perfectly aligned freckles across his rosy-colored cheeks and plastered auburn hair had approached her table. He was dressed in black and white and had a red sash, and he had interrupted her mental tirade. He’d kept offering her something “complimentary,” as though, despite what she wore, he knew she was broke.

  “No thank you,” she told him again. And so she balled her fist and let the smile stay plastered upon her face, as she’d done for the past thirty minutes, waiting on Leotis, who had yet to show.

  After another ten minutes of idle waiting and shooing away the annoying waiter, Ima’s anger reached its peak. Now she didn’t care if the entire restaurant heard what she was about to lay on Leotis. She quickly opened her purse to pull out her cell phone, only to remember that she’d left it on the front seat of her car after speaking to him earlier.

  That late afternoon, when Ima returned to Pelzer and went directly to Sasha’s, she was in a foul mood. Earlier, she’d raced from the restaurant past all the first ladies that she’d wanted to impress, like a thief trying to run out on paying her bill. She’d gotten into her car and discovered that Leotis hadn’t left any messages on her cell phone to explain why he hadn’t shown up.

  Again inside Sasha’s apartment, Ima continued the conversation from earlier that morning. Ima paced back and forth in Sasha’s living room, throwing magazines and plucking the fake leaves off Sasha’s potted plants. She even began ranting about paying someone to put roots on Leotis. In the meantime, Sasha kept trying to calm her and delay another insanity hearing for one of her family members.

  “Putting roots on somebody, Ima? Really? You done lost your ever-loving mind!” Sasha ranted. “Why in the world would you want a man who obviously don’t want you in the first place?” Having chased, caught, and lost almost all her male pursuits, with the exception of the one she married, and having quickly become a widow by choice, Sasha knew a thing or two about unrequited love.

  But Ima hadn’t come there to discuss her plans for snatching up Leotis through roots or otherwise and then to give up so easily. She figured Sasha had been a member of his church long enough to give her some advice, perhaps tell her something she’d overlooked.

  “I didn’t come over here to hear a lecture,” Ima told her.

  “Well, that’s too bad, because you’re about to get one.” Sasha then pointed to one of the small framed pictures hanging on her living room wall. “I know desperation when I see and hear it, and your desperation is loud and clear, Ima. You’re jealous of your sister Zipporah. She’s as pretty as you, and she can sing and you can’t. She’s married to a successful record label executive, and you ain’t married to nobody and can’t keep a man. She’s got a child, and your baby-having eggs is approaching their expiration date—”

  Ima didn’t need or want to rehash her mother, Areal’s past decision to give her younger sister, Zipporah, away at birth, even if her aunt Sasha’s comparison had some truth to it.

  “As usual, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ima snatched the picture from the wall and laid it facedown on the coffee table. “I didn’t even know I had a sister until a few years ago. I could’ve had June Bug, or Chandler, as he’s called now, if I’d wanted him when we were teenagers.” Ima’s voice trailed off as she added, “I can sing if I want to, but I don’t. She ain’t got nothing that I want. Let her live her life, like she did all the years we didn’t know about each other. . . .”

  Sasha said nothing. She shook her head as she took the picture off the table and returned it to its place on the wall before sitting again.

  Ima pretended she’d not noticed what her aunt did, and continued talking. “I’m falling for this man, and I aim to have him. He ain’t no different than all the others I’ve run across in church.”

  “I think you’re wrong, Ima.” Sasha leaned forward, pointing her finger in Ima’s face. “Reverend Leotis Tom is different, and that’s why you want him.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ima pushed away her aunt’s accusing finger. “He’s got a pulse, an imagination, and a desire to be with a woman. He’s just not as bold as some of those I’ve dealt with before.”

  Sasha shook her head. “Let it go, Ima. I’ve been telling you for as long as I can remember that them churchmen that done felt you up and molested you when you was younger because you blossomed early, they done got their just rewards from the Lord, or they will get them. You can’t just keep on cheapening yourself because those low-down demons lowered your worth.”

  “Leotis is supposed to want me,” Ima said sharply. She’d deliberately sidestepped her aunt’s history reminder. She didn’t need to hear it; after all, she’d lived it. “I can tell he wants to get to know me better every time we share the same space. He couldn’t keep his eyes off me, not even if he were quoting scripture.”

  “So did those other men, including your recent fiance, Reverend Lyon Lipps.”

  “Leotis is different!”

  Sasha rose slowly. Her eyes widened. “Well, suh,” she said softly, “I believe I know what it is now. I see why he’s different,” she said before she sat again.

  “Well, it’s about time.” Ima began to smile, thinking she and Sasha were now in agreement.

  “He’s different because either you think another woman wants him or he may be interested in another woman.” Sasha began biting her lip but not her words. “And if that ain’t the reason, then my pastor is different in your eyes because he’s not trying to feel up all over you, like almost every man since you was in elementary school. If he don’t try something unchristian-like, then you don’t get to judge and punish him, because, like I told you before, you’ve never believed God was ever really on your side and would!”

  “Well,” Ima said, “Maybe God is, or maybe God ain’t. But I believe I’ve heard it said that God helps them that help themselves.” Her eyes swept over Sasha, blinking and determined. “I’m just helping myself to what I want and deserve.”

  “And you think you want and deserve Reverend Tom?”

  “Yes, I do!”

  “Does he have anything to say about it?”

  Ima placed her hands on her hips and turned her ankles from side to side, first one and then the other. “Not if I keep showing him the total package.”

  “You are back to that again. Ima, you are totally out of control,” Sasha barked. “You fixing to get yourself hurt, messing in uncharted territory.”

  Ima waved Sasha’s words away with a flip of her hand. She smiled and spun around, checking out her reflection in the large scallop-edged gold-framed mirror on Sasha’s living room wall. “I’m a grown woman, or can’t you accept that?”

  “Shuddup! You’re acting like a spoiled child. And I know what I’m talking about when I tell you Leotis is uncharted territory. He’s a holier-than-thou man who I normally wouldn’t want anywhere near one of my kin. He’s probably up to his eyeballs with unfulfilled seed, too, and there’s been plenty of young women in church who’s tried to get some of that seed for womb planting. So what makes you think you gonna arrive in town and within a month or two change or snatch him? Like I said before, you are out of control.”

&n
bsp; Determined to show she was still in control, Ima ran her fingers across her latest get-a-man outfit, which she’d changed into before coming there. It was a see-through, green-laced, strapless one-piece pantsuit. She also wore a pair of five-inch white heels that accentuated her perfectly shaped size six feet. The neon green—painted toenails were the final come-hither to any male with a foot fetish. She’d already decided he was a leg man, but she wasn’t certain if Leotis was into feet or not. She intended to find out that very day.

  Ima turned and, again, looked into the large scallop-edged, gold-framed mirror. She smiled and then released the white pearl hair clip she used to keep her hair from falling fully onto her shoulders. Turning from side to side, she smiled again, running her fingers through her hair.

  Sasha didn’t like that Ima ignored what she knew was the truth. She thought she’d try harder to convince her by using plain old common sense. “Okay, why don’t you just give yourself a little more time to think things over? Leotis ain’t going nowhere, and I don’t see him chasing after no one in particular,” Sasha pleaded, “Besides, you just got over the heartache of messing with that other so-called man of God, Reverend Lyon Lipps. Don’t dip your heart back into the love shredder.”

  “Hmmm,” Ima whispered, ignoring Sasha’s alleged wisdom. “If this outfit don’t catch him, then he’s either dead in spirit or stuck in the closet.” She then winked at her reflection before turning around to face Sasha with an almost maniacal smile. “Look up the word perfection and you’ll see a picture of me in this outfit right next to the word.”

  “Whatever.” Sasha still wasn’t giving up. She pointed her cane in Ima’s direction and then hit the floor hard with it to make sure she had her attention. “I see you ain’t gonna listen, and since you’re determined to get hurt again, I’m gonna help cushion your fall. Pay attention, because I don’t have a lot of time to spend on your wishful and dumb thinking.”

  “And for the last time,” Ima yelled, “it’s not dumb!”

  Ima took a step forward. She ran both hands along her hourglass-shaped body and tossed her hair to the side. Smiling again, she whispered, “Don’t forget you and me are kin.” Ima twirled back around to face the wall mirror before she continued. “And although I might be a bit younger and more experienced, Aunt Sasha, it’s still your scandalously vicious blood that’s running through my veins.”

  Sasha’s eyes became so large, they made her glasses appear like two dots covering her pupils. She became temporarily stunned by Ima’s remarks. And yet she couldn’t and wouldn’t argue with the vanity of Ima’s reasoning. With her addled mind racing at warp speed, tripping and falling over all the downright sinful and often scandalous works of her past, she shook her head and sighed. “Well, okay then,” Sasha said, surrendering, as she came nearer to Ima. “I’ll give you some intimate details I know and have heard about the man.”

  Sasha stopped and began shaking her head again. “Listen, I ain’t got a lot of time, because I need to get back to planning Sister Betty’s wedding reception before Bea, the she-rilla, messes up the plans she don’t know I’ve changed. But I’m gonna do what I can to help you to achieve this foolishness. But don’t come crying to me when you mess up. You might have my scandalous DNA, but even with all your arrests and shenanigans, you still ain’t had as much experience as me.” Sasha looked Ima up and down before walking around her and stopping in front of her. Looking in her eyes, she declared, “You’re an addle-brained something, but I’ll work with what you have.”

  Ima and Sasha gave one another an air kiss before retreating into Sasha’s kitchen. Over several cups of iced tea, they would make hellish plans that would snatch Leotis from the hands of bachelorhood.

  “Folks in Pelzer been downing me all my life,” Ima told her aunt. “And if I become the first lady of the church, that’ll be cherry-sweet revenge.”

  The next day, over in the other part of town, Sister Betty was still praying for wisdom as she confronted Sharvon, unknowingly much the way Sasha had dealt with Ima.

  Sharvon was off for the entire week after finalizing a big case. Sister Betty had been using the time to badger her relentlessly into forgiving what she called Leotis’s unintended slight. “He doesn’t have the experience of gently letting a woman down who’s chasing him so openly and shamelessly,” she’d explained. “Normally, he doesn’t place himself in a position to deal with something like that. I’m sure he’d have kicked Ima quickly to the curb if he knew how to do it without hurting her feelings.”

  But Sharvon was too full of anger. Her disappointment had caused her to lose sleep, because she had refused to accept any of Sister Betty’s reasoning. Instead, over the past few days she’d avoided Sister Betty and the occasional visit from Freddie by retreating to her bedroom.

  But now, at this moment, Sharvon stood in the doorway of Sister Betty’s bedroom, looking as though she had the weight of the world upon her small shoulders. She still wore the clothes she’d worn the day before: a cream-colored tailored pantsuit and a purple cotton blouse that had many wrinkles and looked more like crushed velvet. Her hair was disheveled. “I’ve messed around like an idiot and fallen in love with that dumber-than-a rock preacher man,” she moaned.

  Sister Betty knew it hadn’t been easy for Sharvon to walk into her bedroom and blurt out her feelings of disappointment about Leotis. Sister Betty stood and took Sharvon by the hand, leading her back to the bed. They sat on its edge. For several moments Sister Betty cradled the young woman’s head, rocking her as though she were a young child. Sharvon, a woman filled with enough confidence and wisdom to solve complicated legal cases, began weeping like a lost soul.

  Like Ima, Sharvon had finally come to realize that she had feelings for Leotis that went beyond friendship. This morning it took Sister Betty’s words of prayer, more words of encouragement, and a few soft kisses upon Sharvon’s forehead. Sister Betty believed Belle would’ve done that same thing for her daughter, had she lived. Somehow it all came together, and Sharvon calmed down enough to sit quietly for several moments without finally giving in to weeping. She did not say a word aloud but mouthed the words “Thank you” before she finally rose and left the room.

  The next sound Sister Betty heard was the water running in the bathroom inside Sharvon’s bedroom. She continued sitting on the side of her bed, with her arms now lifted in prayer. She thanked God for the small breakthrough. And she began wondering after Sharvon left the room if she would have been as effective a mother in calming her own baby boy if he had lived. She smiled a little, because she always arrived at the same conclusion. She must have some mother wit. After all, how often had she calmed Leotis or advised him in some matter or the other?

  Sharvon had showered and gone into the kitchen. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but since they’d not had breakfast, she began preparing two small meals for herself and Sister Betty. It wasn’t long before the smell of bacon, eggs, and home-fried potatoes brought Sister Betty into the kitchen. After Sharvon had left the bedroom, Sister Betty had dozed off for a short time and had slept longer than she normally would.

  Neither said a word about the sad shape Sharvon was in earlier. After eating, they turned on the local gospel music station on the kitchen radio. Humming and singing, which neither could do very well, they moved about in the kitchen, wiping countertops, filling the dishwasher, discussing what to cook for dinner. They then sat down at the kitchen table and chatted about Sharvon’s heavy caseload, the drizzling rain outside, all sorts of things that really didn’t matter, avoiding what Sister Betty believed was truly still on Sharvon’s mind.

  Yet some things needed saying quickly. Sharvon unknowingly opened the door to the conversation by saying, “Until the other week I had been thinking about offering more pro bono work to the church.”

  “Pro bone? What’s that?”

  “Pro bono,” Sharvon said, correcting her. “It means offering a service for free.”

  “I see.” Sister Betty smiled slightly before a
dding, “So what’s changed?”

  Sharvon ran her fingers through her hair and leaned in. She made the move suddenly, as though there were others in the kitchen who would hear what she was about to say. “I know you may not approve, and you’ve explained Leotis’s awkward way of handling things the other week, but . . . ”

  Now it was time for Sister Betty to lean in, too. She clasped her hands, appearing to hunger for more. “But?”

  “I still have feelings for Leotis that I shouldn’t have, and obviously, he’s not interested. If I offer to perform pro bono work for the church, I want it to be just for the church, with no ulterior motives. Right now the way I feel about him, I probably should just stay away until those feelings leave.”

  Nothing Sharvon had revealed was a real surprise to Sister Betty. And as much as she wanted to give advice about romance, she was new to it and uncertain as to what to add. So she gave Sharvon her usual advice when something needed addressing. “Why don’t you just pray on it and see what God says about it?”

  “Is that your answer for everything?” Sharvon smiled. “Well, I guess if that advice is good enough for you, and I see how well it’s worked, perhaps I should give God a chance to straighten me out.” She stood and walked around to Sister Betty’s side of the table and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “You are one amazing woman. The church, Freddie, and this community, they’re all fortunate to have you.” She then kissed her on the forehead. “I know I am.”

  Sister Betty stood and continued humming and buzzing around the kitchen. She felt uplifted and proud of the way she’d handled Sharvon’s misery earlier. She’d barely put the last pot away, after Sharvon went to her room to gather her laundry for the wash, when suddenly she caught a cramp in her knees. She reached out to hold on to the counter. This ain’t no time for my arthritis to be kicking up, Lord, and I’m not thinking that it’s you, ’cause I don’t feel crippled by it. Gotta be this damp weather. The constant sound of raindrops hitting her windows always calmed her. She was just about to go to her room to sit and read her Bible when the kitchen phone rang.