other young people at the church.” She thought if she often referred to herself as a young lady rather than a woman, he’d back off. So far he hadn’t bought into it.
She could wear all the skirts—long ones, short ones, pleated ones, or a-line ones—it wouldn’t matter. Stoney couldn’t hide the body that made her age appear to be on the other side of twenty-five rather than next door to twenty. Cornbread fed took a new meaning with Stoney.
After the elevator’s doors opened, Stoney took off walking at a faster pace to Old Crusty, while Dr. Connor reminded Stoney of an earlier conversation.
“You know, you really should consider the surgery. If your eyes are giving you problems like they are and your eye prescription is as fluctuating as it is, it seems to be necessary,” he recommended in his expertise. Taking her keys from her hands, Dr. Connor did Stoney the unwanted favor of unlocking her door. “Plus it’s free. You can’t get any better than that. That’s one of the perks of working for doctors: free health insurance.”
With her inability to control her blinking for the moment, Stoney gave a gentle, polite smile that housed full lips. Nodding in agreement instead of reminding him that she didn’t have anyone to care for her after the surgery, Stoney eased her body closer to her old standby car.
“You have beautiful eyes, Stoney, and I’d like to see them more often without your glasses.”
Her uncontrolled and rapid blinking had been a reaction from medications she’d started taking as a teenager. Not bothering to mention it to him, Stoney tried not to acknowledge him at any level. Retracting her keys from his hand once he’d unlocked the door, Stoney moved closer toward the driver’s door. After easing inside, and with the door shut, she threw him a fake wave and blew out the breath she’d been holding in. Through gritted teeth Stoney blew out steamed breath.
Making her entrance onto the smooth-flowing Central expressway, Stoney drove while reminiscing about her new life. She hadn’t dated at all while being in Dallas. As a matter of fact, she had never dated. Grandma Susie had made sure of that.
In high school, when young girls were painting toes, doing hair, getting ears pierced, and eager to turn sixteen—the age their parents were dreading but at which they had agreed to allow them to have boyfriends—Stoney wasn’t able to participate. Grandma Susie had made it very clear that Jesus, church, and school were all the boyfriends Stoney needed.
For the last year since Stoney had made Dallas her home, she hadn’t found anyone who interested her, nor was she really looking. Grandma Susie may have been dead, but her spirit still lived very much in Stoney’s thoughts.
As she drove, tears ran down Stoney’s face as she allowed her mind to focus on being motherless and not knowing who would remind her when it was okay to date, kiss, or marry. If there was anything she hated, it was not knowing.
Driving in the big city, each chance she got Stoney glanced at the picture she had taped on her dashboard. Inadvertently it allowed her to wallow in self-pity. Stoney told herself that keeping the only picture she had of her mother was for the just-in-case moments. Just in case she ran across someone she thought could be her mother, Stoney wanted the proof close by.
It hurt in a different spot in her heart, not having a mother around and not knowing if she was dead or alive. At times she felt that if she knew her mother was dead, seeing a grave or something, it would bring closure to her burdened heart.
All Grandma Susie could tell Stoney about her mother was that the woman had dropped Stoney off within two weeks of her birth. She had brought Stoney to Greenville from Lord knew where, with the best baby clothing, the most expensive baby furniture, and Pampers galore. Stoney’s mother didn’t leave a birth certificate, social security card, or anything that would link them. It was even up to Grandma Susie to name her as she had. When asked about her name years later, Grandma said exactly what Stoney had figured: “Ya mama had such a stony heart, girl, I couldn’t see ya being named anything else.”
Only God had slowed down the process of the pain of not having a mother or a father. But being alone in a city where girls frequently shopped the malls with their mothers, Stoney’s heart often pained as if she were a kid again.
Staring one last time at the picture of her mother, Maeshell, Stoney parked her car in front of Brother Mike’s mini-mansion. When she got out of her vehicle, Stoney dusted invisible particles onto the ground, knowing he would give her a once-over. It made her laugh how attentive Brother Mike was about her hair, clothing, or anything having to do with fashion. Always saying how he liked “His girls” to look nice, Stoney thought he’d make someone a good husband one day, and couldn’t for the life of her understand why Vicky was so against being friends with him.
After adding her khaki jacket back to complete her Anne Klein outfit, the very one that Brother Mike had picked out when he accompanied her on a shopping trip, Stoney retrieved her songbook folder and purse, and headed toward the door.
It wasn’t until she had reached the front door and looked back that she realized she must have been the first to arrive, being that no other cars were parked out front. Wanting to reverse her steps and sit in the car until someone else drove up, Brother Mike, one of her new best friends, opened the door with a smile.
“Hey, Stoney. Come on in. Ugh.” he threw his hands up to his mouth. “Is that a ponytail, or better yet, was it?” he escorted her through the threshold and locked the door behind them. Knowing that Brother Mike had never made a move on her, and was more like a brother than friend, Stoney tried her best to relax, but couldn’t stop thinking how Grandma Susie had told her about putting herself in certain predicaments. Without realizing he had asked how she was doing, Stoney asked, “Am I the first to arrive?”
“Um, yeah.” By the way Stoney’s brow furrowed, and the way she had been clutching her belongings, Brother Mike could tell she was a bit uptight. Having had plenty conversations with Stoney, he knew that Stoney held her guard up high, and he respected that, especially since she seemed to be in the world all alone. “Look, I’m going to go finish putting the finishing touches on the appetizers and beverages. If you don’t mind, make yourself at home, and please answer the door if anyone shows up.” not waiting for a response from a dazed Stoney, Brother Mike pushed up the sleeves of his button-down, crisp canary yellow Ralph Lauren shirt, and headed toward his kitchen area.
Taking minor steps around the front part of a home almost the size of their medium-sized church, Stoney didn’t know where to begin. It seemed as though the windows made up the majority of the house, but not in an awkward way. Peering out one of the windows a distance away, she could see the sparkle of a ground pool through the wood blinds. Hot as the early May’s day was, and with having no working air conditioner in her car, Stoney wondered how the water would feel against her warm skin. As soon as she thought about swimming, she then remembered a swimsuit would have to be worn in order to do so.
“Don’t worry, I’m not even thinking about it,” she spoke confidently, as if she were talking to someone in the very room with her. Grandma Susie, to be exact.
In the living area, Stoney walked a short distance to a curio housing family photos. Unlike Grandma Susie’s house, where she had pictures covering the majority of the walls with nails and tacks, Brother Mike had the type of taste that Stoney hoped to be able to one day afford. Taking a glance at the walls and seeing no photos tacked on, Stoney remembered when she moved out of Grandma Susie’s house. In order to have it rented, she had no choice but to take extra money off the deposit for the sake of all the holes punched through the paint. When she thought about her own place, her studio apartment, Stoney realized that she hadn’t thought about complementing her space with art, pictures, or anything, for the fear of messing up her apartment
