Confessions. Sasha Campbell

      9

      Nikki

      I hurried through the hospital corridor to the nurse’s station. “Mildred Stephenson’s room, please.”

      The nurse looked down at the board, then pointed to the right. “Room 7B. Last door on the right.”

      I nodded, then turned on my heel and walked as fast as I could, knowing I was going to have to hear my mother’s mouth. I knocked once, then pushed open the door. Mama looked my way and rolled her eyes.

      “I’m glad you could make it.” The sarcasm was obvious in her voice.

      I pressed my lips together and decided to ignore my mother, considering I hadn’t gotten the message she had left on my cell phone until after six. I’ve told her a thousand times, if it’s important call me at work, not on my cell phone, which I usually put on silent while I worked.

      I pretended she wasn’t standing there and turned to the woman beside her, who looked like she had aged ten years since I last saw her at Thanksgiving. “Hey, Aunt Charlotte.”

      She gave me a sad smile. Apparently, she had been crying. “Hi.” I gave her a big hug, then moved over to the bed and stared down at the woman lying there. Big Mama was everything to me.

      “What happened?” I waited for one of them to speak, and when neither did, I swung around and pierced them both with an impatient look. Mama signaled for me to step out the room and talk in private.

      “She fell last night in the bathroom and was too weak to get up.”

      Tears stung the back of my eyes at the thought of my grandmother lying on a cold floor all night.

      “I went over there this morning and was knocking with no luck. I had to call the police to come and break the lock to get us in.”

      “Why was she by herself last night?” I was so pissed.

      My mother dropped her head, but not before I noticed the guilt in her eyes. “She insisted she be left alone. You know your grandmother. The last thing she wants is a babysitter.”

      “That may be so, but that’s exactly what she needs.” Sometimes I felt like the only adult in the family. “What’s her doctor say?”

      Mama released a long breath before replying, “She has congestive heart failure.”

      “Meaning?”

      “Meaning…” Tears flooded her eyes. “Her heart is…is drowning in fluid.”

      I swallowed the lump in my throat, then reached over and wrapped my arms around Mama and held her for a few seconds. I released her, then stepped into the room, took a seat by the side of the bed and held onto my grandmother’s hand. Touching her was comforting. The way she always felt to me.

      Aunt Charlotte rose. “Since you’re here, we’re going down to the cafeteria.”

      I simply nodded. They left and I was glad to have some time alone with Big Mama. I reached up and brushed her silver hair away from her face. It was long, very fine and hanging loose on her pillow. The result of a mixed heritage. Big Mama would have a fit if she saw her hair all over her head. She was one of those who believed in always looking her best. I guess I got that from her. Although when I first decided to grow my locks, she couldn’t understand why I insisted on growing that nappy stuff on my head.

      “Well, if it isn’t my little chickadee.”

      I smiled down into Big Mama’s gentle brown eyes and fought back the tears. I didn’t want her to see me crying. “You know good and well nothing was stopping me from coming down here to see you. I even brought you a surprise.” I reached inside my purse and pulled out a Granny Smith apple.

      Her eyes sparkled. “I ever tell you that’s my favorite apple?”

      I nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me.” But I never grew tired of hearing the story.

      “I remember I used to clean this old white woman’s house. She had one of those big fancy houses on the north side with a pretty white picket fence. She loved having me work for her better than all her other maids. Ms. Ellie used to call me that pretty colored girl.” She paused for a moment, lost in her thoughts. “Anyway, I was getting ready to head home one evening and I was hungry. She had a beautiful fruit bowl of apples. I asked her if I could have one of her Granny Smith apples and I would bring one in the morning to replace it. Ms. Ellie told me no…I couldn’t have a Granny Smith…I could have a Jonathan apple. Humph! They all had bruises on them, and I don’t care for those apples…never have. I took one look at Ms. Ellie, then walked over to the bowl, took me a Granny Smith and bit into it.” Big Mama chuckled. “I said good night and left the house.” She paused again and frowned at the IV in her arm. I moved around to her right and adjusted the surgical tape as she continued. “The next morning I came back, and when she opened the door, I handed her the prettiest Granny Smith apple I could find, and said, ‘I told you I’d bring you another apple.’ Ms. Ellie started laughing and said, ‘Mildred, you so funny.’”

      I laughed and stared down at my grandmother’s smiling face. That’s just the way she’d always been—a woman with a mind of her own. She didn’t let anyone stand in her way. This was the woman who I could always turn to when I couldn’t talk to my mother. Big Mama never judged. She simply listened, then gave her opinion whether you liked it or not. She always believed in allowing her children to live their lives, because to her the biggest lesson was finding out for yourself.

      “You think when I get home I can get you to bake me one of those coconut cakes?” she asked. Big Mama was lying there, breathing heavily. I tried not to think about the fluid surrounding her heart. Talking was starting to be too much for her.

      I squeezed her hand. “Sure, Big Mama. Whatever you want.”

      She covered my hand with hers and closed her eyes. For the longest time, I sat there listening to her breath. Loving the way she felt. Enjoying the way she smelled.

      “You know I’m not going to be here forever,” she finally said, breaking into the silence.

      I had to swallow to remove the sob that had filled my throat. “I know, but I’m not ready for you to leave.”

      “Hmmm…that’s too bad ’cause I’m ready to go…and be with my Lord. You know I gave my life to Jesus Christ when I was a little girl? I’ve been preparing my whole life to meet him.”

      “I know, Big Mama, but I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

      She gave me a narrow look. “I don’t know why not. Everybody has their time. Don’t you know your mother is talking about me moving in with her? Uhhh-uhhh…you know I always said, I didn’t wanna be a burden on any of my children.”

      “You could never be a burden. I would love for you to come and live with me.” Even though I offered, I knew what she was talking about. It was nothing like having independence.

      “That’s worth considering. Only I don’t wanna put anyone out.” She laughed. “Could you see me living with your mother? She would drive me crazy with all that smoking! No…what I want…is to stay in my own house…cook my own meals…sleep in my own bed.”

      I nodded. “I understand. Just know I love you and the offer stands. All the years you took care of me, there ain’t nothing I won’t do for you.”

      “I know, chickadee…but baby…Big Mama is tired. Getting up in the morning is becoming hard work.”

      I knew she wasn’t getting any younger. I’d seen how slow she had become the last year, but I still didn’t want to hear my grandmother talking about dying. I wasn’t ready for her to go. And probably never would be. “I just wanna make your life as comfortable as possible regardless where you live.”

      “What would Donovan say about me…moving in wit y’all?”

      “Big Mama,