Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(30)

In June of that second summer, on a day when Benjamin had gone off earlier than usual, Otis sat at the kitchen table complaining that the pain in his back had traveled around to his side.

“I don’t gotta go to Luella’s today,” Delia said. “If you’re feeling poorly I can stay here and fix you up a nice hot mustard plaster.”

Otis shook his head. “Ain’t no mustard plaster gonna fix what’s ailing me.”

“And just what’s that?” Delia asked.

“Too many years of living,” Otis chuckled. “A man gets to where he done outlived his usefulness, then—”

“Daddy Church, don’t you dare talk that way!” Delia said angrily. “You got more usefulness than a man half your age.”

He laughed again. “Delia Church, you is one sweet woman.”

Although Delia said half a dozen times she’d be happy to stay and care for Otis, he was insistent she go.

“I need me some peace and quiet,” he said. “So take that young’un and do your chattering elsewhere.”

A short while later she and Isaac left the house and started toward Cross Corner Road. They were almost to the turn off when Delia got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“We gotta go back home,” she said. “Daddy Church ain’t looking too good.”

“I thought we was gonna visit with Jerome,” Isaac said.

“We ain’t going nowhere if Daddy Church is sick.” Delia whirled on her heel and started back toward the house.

Isaac reluctantly followed. “Granddaddy looked fine to me,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, well, you is ten years old and ain’t in charge.”

When they got back to the house Otis was sound asleep on the sofa. Delia walked over to where he was lying and listened for the sound of his breath. She stood there for a moment then smiled.

“See,” Isaac grumped, “you made me miss out on a fine day of playing for no reason.”

“It weren’t for no reason,” Delia said. “It was on account of loving Daddy Church.”





Delia





It don’t matter how old or how young you are, everybody needs somebody to watch over them. Me and Benjamin got each other but Daddy Church, all he’s got is a faded little picture.

Benjamin’s his boy, true enough, but once your boy gets married he got his own family. He’s not really your boy no more; he’s some woman’s husband. That’s just how life is. Right now me and Benjamin got Isaac to watch out for, but when Isaac grows up and marries off he ain’t gonna have responsibility for watching over us, he’s gonna have responsibility for his own family.

Boys outgrow their daddy, but girls is different. Girls don’t ever outgrow needing a daddy to watch over them. Daddy Church knows that, and he treats me good as if he was my own true daddy.

When my baby girl died Benjamin was busy watching over me, but Daddy Church went and carved out a coffin for that tiny baby. On the top of that pinewood box he cut a little heart. It was like he put a piece of hisself in there to watch over our baby. I ain’t never gonna forget that.

He thinks I can’t see when he makes a face from hurting, but I see plenty. I’d like to say, Let me take care of you, Daddy Church, but I can’t ’cause he’s too proud a man to be accepting pity.

I been praying and asking the Lord to watch over him, but the thing with praying is that you don’t always get what you’re asking for.





The End of a Generation





Otis died the second week of September.

The week prior Delia never left the house because she feared he wasn’t looking well, but those days passed uneventfully. Otis ate breakfast, then napped on the sofa for most of the day. With Otis sleeping and Isaac off at school, Delia was left to face the long days of emptiness alone. She cleaned everything that need to be cleaned, drank cup after cup of coffee, and sewed several more patches for the quilt she was making, but she missed having someone to talk with.

“Go visiting,” Otis said, “and quit fussing over me like I’m a dying man.”

“I ain’t going nowhere ’til I see you looking chipper.”

“Ha,” Otis laughed. “You wait for a man of my years to get chipper, and you for sure ain’t going nowhere.”

Nothing more was said that day, but by Tuesday of the following week Delia could no longer stand the thought of another day filled with the sound of silence. Visiting Luella Jackson was an all-day thing, but if she walked down to Bessie Mae’s house she’d be back before Otis woke from his nap.

“Daddy Church,” she said, “you mind if I take a jar of my apple jelly down to Bessie Mae?” Before he could answer she added, “Bessie’s house ain’t but a few minutes down the road.”

The truth was it took twenty minutes to walk to Bessie’s, but Delia figured she’d step lively and be there in half the time.

When Otis said for her to go and quit worrying about him, she left.

Once she got to Bessie’s they settled in and Bessie, who was a talker to begin with, had a truckload of gossip. Delia intended to stay for an hour, two at the most, but as they sat on the porch enjoying ham sandwiches and sweet tea she lost track of the time. It was well into the afternoon when their conversation was interrupted by a gust of wind ripping through the trees.