Plenty Good Room

by Cheri Paris Edwards

  “Well, Ms. Britton, that’s all I wanted. I thought that you had gotten so much bad news on the day that we’d asked you in that I just wanted to call you and give you a positive update.”

  “Thank you,” said Tamara sincerely. She added shyly, “Mr. Perry, I never thanked you for your kindness that day at the conference. I was overwhelmed, and you really helped me. And I really do appreciate you calling me to let me know that she’s doing better.”

  After a moment of silence he replied, “You know, you don’t have to call me Mr. Perry. You’re not one of my students. My name is Isaiah.”

  “Isaiah?”

  “Yes, it’s Isaiah, just like in the Bible. My mama, God bless her, just loves the Lord and His word, and so, quite naturally, she named me after a prophet,” he finished with a laugh.

  She laughed, too, even though her Bible knowledge was so limited that she was not sure who Isaiah was or exactly what he had accomplished to make him worthy of being written about in such an important book.

  “Well, Ms. Britton, I’ll let you go. I’m sure you have lots of other things to do.”

  “Okay, Mr. Pe—Isaiah. Thank you again for calling,” she said.

  “Oh, anytime, Ms. Britton. Anytime,” he said, and Tamara held the receiver to her ear until she heard him hang up.

  Until now she had not noticed just how close Sienna’s small body was to her own, or how the girl’s slightly fuzzy head rested gently on her arm. Tamara felt awkward, but she did not move away even when the girl pulled her arm up and placed herself under it so that she could snuggle her sandy mop even closer.

  “You should’ve told him to call you Tamara,” Sienna said in a sleepy, muffled voice.

  “Hmmh?”

  “When he said call him Isaiah, you should’ve told him to call you Tamara.”

  “Oh,” she replied. Tamara’s emotions were askew now, stirred up by the girl sitting so close to her and by the husky-voiced Isaiah Perry’s telephone call.

  Unseeingly she stared, expressionless, at the television screen for a few moments while her thoughts drifted into space. By the time she glanced down at Sienna again, the girl had fallen asleep there cuddled close to her, with her small legs tucked tightly under her compact body.

  Reflecting once more on Isaiah Perry’s unexpected telephone call, Tamara sighed, again considering all the changes that seemed to be taking place in her life so quickly. Wearily she glanced over at Sienna, sleeping comfortably in the crook of her arm, and she thought ruefully, The truth is, my whole world is changing, turning upside down day by day, and I don’t think there’s any way to stop it now.

  27.

  Lonely Night

  After taking only a taste or two of the watery red punch, the girl set the small paper cup on the table next to her and then picked absentmindedly at a brightly colored, confetti-sprinkled Christmas cookie she held in her hand.

  The holidays were the most difficult time of the year for her. All around were reminders of the family that she did not have. Though they meant well, this small party organized by hospital personnel, given to help kids locked up in this barren facility to have some semblance of a celebration, only made her feel more forlorn and sad.

  Cynthia, the tall, thin African-American woman who worked on her unit, had clearly taken the small, lonely girl under her wing. Often when the nurse came on shift, she stopped by the girl’s room to offer her homemade snacks to eat, or books to read, or sometimes just to say a special hello to the girl. Today she handed her a brightly wrapped present, saying, “This is for you, sweetie.”

  “Thank you,” the girl said shyly as she took the small present.

  Placing her cookie on the plywood table beside her, the girl carefully opened the package. Inside she found a book titled, Hind’s Feet on High Places, by Hannah Hurnard.

  Cynthia rubbed the girl’s shoulder gently. “I know you’ve had hard times, but this book will help you, honey. It will give you comfort. One day everything is gonna be all right for you. I just know it.” Before the girl could see the tears that sprang to her eyes, the nurse quickly turned away.

  Her head averted now, Cynthia did not see the long, curious stare that the girl gave her before sliding the book into her pocket to read later.

  The girl looked around the room and saw that several of the night nurses and other staff were in the lounge area, keeping the party lively for the small group of patients still here on this special day. Many had gotten to go home for the holidays, but even if she’d earned the right, she had no home to go to. She did feel fortunate to be out of her room, though, since she’d been on lockdown for almost three months now—ever since she’d had the “breakdown” that landed her in this hospital in the first place.

  Just then the small, blonde nurse who always told her, “Just call me Evelyn, hon, not Ms. Stevenson, just Evelyn—the other makes me feel too old,” turned on the CD player. Cheerfully she said, “Come on, everybody, it’s Christmas now—sing!”

  “Silent night, Holy night,

  All is calm, All is bright . . .”

  Cynthia mouthed the words to the Christmas hymn, but her mind was still on the withdrawn, sad-faced girl. If her schedule had allowed it, Cynthia would have taken her home today and showered her with love and attention. Misty-eyed again, Cynthia glanced over at the small figure sitting alone. The girl was not singing with the rest of them; instead, she pulled the book Cynthia had just given her from her pocket and, ignoring the celebration going on around her, quite deliberately opened it and began to read.

  28.

  Unexpected Joy

  Startled, Tamara sat up quickly, immediately glancing at the clock on her nightstand. Then she realized that it was Christmas morning and she had no reason to be up early, and stretching contentedly, she lay back down in the bed, gratefully closing her eyes again. Between work and Sienna, her schedule was always busy, and this year, before she’d known it, the holiday season had crept in.

  With Thanksgiving’s arrival, the two of them had been invited to Mrs. Jackson’s, where they had feasted with her family. Tamara felt stuffed again now just thinking about all the food that she and Sienna had put away that day.

  To her surprise, Isaiah Perry had greeted them at the door when they arrived. Denise Jackson had met the young man at the church when he first moved into town, and had taken him “under her wing,” too, since all his relatives lived far away in the South. Isaiah was a frequent visitor to the Jackson home now, often having Sunday dinner with the family and spending holidays with them as well when he was in town.

  But on that day, even Tamara’s nervousness around Isaiah did not keep her from tasting as much as she could of the scrumptious dishes. In fact, watching with amazement as the two of them ate, he grinned widely and commented, “For two little bitty women, y’all can sure eat a lot!”

  Tamara laughed and replied between bites of sweet-potato pie and warm peach cobbler smothered with Cool Whip, “I know I’m stuffing myself, Isaiah. I’ve just never seen so much food in one place, that’s all. I’m gonna have to work out extra hard tomorrow, but I just have to try a little of everything today!”

  Sienna had filled her plate again and again, feasting on hickory-smoked turkey and savory dressing, candied sweet potatoes, and buttery, cheesy macaroni. Even after the girl’s stomach was clearly stretched to the limit, she tried to eat more, stating exuberantly, “Miss Jackson, this food is goo-ood!”

  That was a good day, she thought; Sienna and I had fun together.

  As if the girl knew she was thinking of her, Sienna’s voice woke her out of her dream state. “Tamara, it’s Christmas; c’mon, wake up!” said the girl excitedly.

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” she said, realizing her short-lived sleep-in time was over. Wiping the sleep from her eyes and pulling on her robe, she followed Sienna down the hallway.

  “Sienna, put something on your feet!” she croaked froggily, and the girl obligingly stopped in her room, grabbed some thick white sock
s, and was back without missing a beat.

  “Go on into the living room, Tamara; I’ll get your coffee,” the girl said, and before Tamara could object, she ran into the kitchen area. Tamara heard the swinging door close behind her with a small thud.

  That’s strange . . . Something smells wonderful right here, like fresh-cooked breakfast almost. It must be my imagination—I guess I’m hungry, Tamara thought, with a small laugh. She went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Tucking her legs under her, she stared at the tree while waiting for the girl.

  This was Tamara’s first time decorating the house for Christmas, and in fact, it was the first time she’d celebrated the holidays in any real way. Each time she bought more festive ornaments, Tamara had told herself it was for the girl, but the truth was, she was enjoying all of it a lot more than she had thought she would. Tamara stared at the tree that they’d trimmed together in lavenders, blues, and beiges, and it was beautiful, glowing with twinkling lights and sparkly ornaments.

  “Here’s your coffee, Tamara.”

  “Thank you, Sienna,” she replied as she took a sip of the steamy, fragrant coffee. “This is excellent—it tastes different from my regular coffee.”

  With a happy smile Sienna said, “It’s French vanilla; I bought it with my allowance just for today. I knew you’d like it.”

  “Well, thank you again. Now, you open your gifts.”

  “Can I?” asked the girl, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Yes, you can. They are for you.”

  One by one the girl opened each of the presents that Tamara had carefully picked for her over the past several months.

  Inside the brightly wrapped boxes were color-washed and sparkly bell-bottoms with matching tops, as well as skirts with sweaters and blouses to match that were suitable for church. After she’d finished with most of the boxes, elatedly the girl opened up a large plastic container that Tamara had filled with inexpensive glittery and colorful makeups and perfumes.

  “Oh, Tamara,” Sienna said time and time again, alternately gazing at each newly opened package and then back at her again. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  Tamara, meanwhile, sipped her French vanilla coffee, watching her tear open each brightly wrapped gift. She was surprised to find that she felt a strange contentment each time the girl showed obvious happiness with her choice.

  Finally, only one gift remained, and Sienna struggled to retrieve the huge box that Tamara had placed almost in back of the Christmas tree.

  “What is this?” she asked with a curious look.

  “Well, you’ll have to open it to find out,” Tamara replied with a mischievous smile. “It goes along with that present right on top, so open it first.”

  Sienna grabbed the smaller, square present and pulled the paper off excitedly. Inside was a carefully chosen selection of contemporary gospel CDs, including the girl’s favorites that she liked to sing.

  “You bought me music!” said the teen exuberantly.

  “Yes, Sienna, I bought you music. Now, open the other box.”

  The girl turned and began to rip away the bright wrapping paper that hid the mysterious package’s contents. “Oh, Tamara, it’s a karaoke machine!”

  “Yes, it is.” She put her coffee on the table, and her expression grew serious. “Sienna, you are gifted. You have a magnificent voice, and I think that this machine will enable you to practice singing some of your favorite songs at home.”

  “Do you really think I can sing?”

  “Oh, my, Sienna, yes—I know that you can sing.” Then, surprising herself, she added, “Perhaps if things continue to go well, we can look into procuring you some voice lessons in the future.”

  The girl’s look became quizzical. “‘Procuring’? What does ‘procuring’ mean?”

  Tamara laughed and said, “I’m sorry, hiring you a voice teacher, Sienna—that’s what I mean.”

  Though it hardly seemed possible, the teen’s small eyes opened even wider. “Really? You’d hire a teacher to show me how to sing better?”

  “I would, because you are just that talented.”

  “I have something for you, too,” said the girl, pulling out a small box from the pocket of her robe.

  Tamara looked at her questioningly. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”

  “But it’s Christmas, Tamara; everybody s’posed to get something. Open the box, Tamara! C’mon,” she urged.

  Tamara unwrapped the small gift slowly and then carefully removed the lid of the enclosed box. Inside was a pair of delicate gold earrings with a small diamond sparkling on the wire of each. “Oh, Sienna! These are just beautiful!”

  Sienna’s lips turned up into a satisfied smile, and she said, “Well, you know that’s not a real diamond—it’s a ZC or CZ or somethin’ like that, the woman said at the store.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that! They are quite beautiful, and I’m going to wear them as soon as I get dressed today!” she said.

  Almost shyly Sienna added, “I’m glad you like them—you are kinda picky, Tamara; you always look so nice and everything, I didn’t know what to get you.”

  “Well, you did good, and see? You know me better, much better, than you thought!” Tamara replied with a small smile as she glanced at the delicate earrings once more.

  “Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back,” said Sienna with a mysterious smile on her own small face.

  Tamara had little time to wonder just what the girl was up to before she rounded the corner into the living room, carrying a large tray.

  “What’s this?”

  “I got up early and fixed you breakfast this morning. I made you some bacon and some eggs and French toast with syrup, and I poured you orange juice, ’cause that’s all we have.”

  Inexplicably, Tamara’s eyes grew instantly misty as she gazed incredulously into the girl’s face, which was bright with happiness, “I don’t know what to say, Sienna. Thank you.”

  Sienna made a face and said, “C’mon, Tamara, now, don’t get all teary-eyed and stuff, it’s just some microwave food, ’cept for the eggs, ’cause that’s all I really know how to cook.”

  Not trusting herself to reply, she nodded dumbly and placed the tray on her lap. Though the food was lukewarm by now, for some reason it was the best breakfast Tamara ever remembered having. When she glanced up at Sienna again, the teen was dancing around the room happily, holding the karaoke microphone in her hand while singing to herself. Despite Tamara’s efforts to restrain her feelings, the young girl’s joyous expression caused her emotions to overflow. Quickly Tamara wiped away tears and, with a strange happiness filling her heart, finished eating her Christmas breakfast.

  29.

  Kickin’ It

  “I don’t know if I should be here,” said Tamara, warily glancing around the crowded nightclub.

  She had been happy at first that they were finally inside after waiting in line for such a long time, but now she was frustrated to find that they would have to stand again in these cramped, smoky surroundings. The murky darkness of the second-floor room made her a little claustrophobic, and all kinds of people she could not see well were rubbing close to her, which made her even more uncomfortable.

  Even in her discomfort, though, Tamara was enjoying the smooth jazz sounds emanating from the superb music system. The loudspeakers accentuated the smooth instrumentals, and the rhythmic tinkling of the keyboards made her feel as if bubbles of music were exploding melodically inside her body.

  “Tam, you needed this. That’s why we made you come tonight. It’s the perfect time, with the holidays and all, to get you out of the house, girl!” said Lynnette before turning to smile flirtatiously at a tall, well-dressed man who was squeezing by her.

  Tamara looked at her friend uncertainly. “I don’t know, Lynn . . . I’ve never been to a place like this before. Are you sure that I’m dressed okay?”

  Lynnette turned to her friend and said, “Girl, you looking good! Shoot! You was
hurtin’ Jay-Jay when you walked out of the house, ’cause I don’t think he’s never seen you in a dress before!”

  “What do you mean, hurting him?” Tamara asked quizzically.

  “Girl, in other words, I had to help that brotha put his eyes back in his head,” Lynnette answered with a laugh. “He turned to me with his eyes all big and said, ‘Tam’s been hiding legs like those under pants all this time?’”

  Tamara ducked her head, hiding a small, nervous smile as she felt her cheeks begin to burn. She wasn’t really hiding her legs; she just rarely wore skirts, because pants seemed more comfortable to her, and then again, perhaps it was because she wasn’t certain whether she wanted men to look at her legs at all.

  “Whew! There’s lots of folks here!” said Lynnette as she glanced around the crowded room. “I sure hope Jayson is scouting us a spot to sit down at while he’s out getting our drinks, ’cause, girl, as they say, ‘the joint is jumping tonight,’ but these shoes were not meant for standing up long,” she whispered to Tamara as she pointed to her feet.

  Tamara looked at her friend’s pointy-toed, ankle-strapped black spiked heels and nodded in agreement. Lynnette always dressed well, and tonight she wore a tight, short black leather mini with a black leopard print silk shirt. Casually she held a three-quarter-length matching jacket of the same soft lamb leather over her shoulder with a silver-jeweled hand. Her chunky silver necklace with earrings to match completed the outfit.

  Tamara’s own style was much less flashy and more understated. A deep burgundy suede stretch skirt skimmed her lower body closely, barely hinting at her curves and stopping right above her knee. The skirt was topped with a silky black stretch shirt that showed off her small waist and defined stomach, and she wore classic-styled black sling-backed alligator pumps. Although Tamara worked her treadmill more for the health benefits than anything else, her daily workouts were apparent tonight in the tautness of her toned body.

  Leaning over the balcony railing, she observed with interest the people on the lower level as they interacted animatedly with one another. Most held drinks in their hands, and many seemed to know each other, while others stood in corners or sat at tables alone or with partners. A few sat stiffly erect, and their rigid posture made them appear to be as uncomfortable in this environment as she.