Mama B - A Time to Dance (Book 2) by Michelle Stimpson Read Free Book Online Page B

can
look at ‘em and tell they’re dentures or implants from a mile away. But Dr.
Wilson’s teeth…I couldn’t be sure. Either he’d been brushing and flossing all
his life, or he’d found himself top-notch dentist.
    “Frank, I can’t
say whether this evening was particularly pleasant or not.” I shook my head.
“To be honest, I tuned out way back at the movie.”
    “Fair enough,”
he conceded, setting his napkin on the table as well. “Hey, no worries. All
thing work together for good, right?”
    “Right,” I
agreed.
    “If nothing
else, the Lord let you happen across the young man’s wallet so I could minister
to him tonight. That was divine.”
    “Indeed,” I
agreed again. Come to think of it, the Lord had been showing up all evening
– from the moment I broke down in the car up until now, as a little
inkling of a revelation had begun to form in me. And Dr. Wilson had played a
part in it all.
    “Frank, let me
take back my previous statement. I did have a pleasant evening with you. And
I’d be glad to do it again sometime.”
    The light that
spread across his face was contagious. I found myself smiling at him, knowing
he must have felt like he was getting somewhere with me. But I hadn’t made no
promises, just another time out. Sometime. I was thinking maybe in
another couple of months, around Christmas when everybody’s inviting folks to
get-togethers and such.
    “How about next
week?” He jumped on my suggestion.
    “Well, I—”
    “No rated PG
movie. I promise.” He held up the scout’s honor sign.
    He tickled me
with his quick wit. “No movie, huh? What else you got in mind?”
    “Dancing,” he
said with a sly grin.
    “Dancing?” Should
have stuck with my first mind. “Now I know you done lost your religion now.
You think I’m going to a club with you?”
    “Not a club,
Beatrice. Salsa dancing. I’m taking a class. I need a partner. At our age, I
can’t find many women mobile enough to hit the floor with me.”
    “Frank, I don’t
know how old you think I am, but I’m much younger at heart.”
    “I sense that
already. What do you say?” He balled up his fists and swing them back and forth
as he danced a little side-to-side jig in place.
    If I didn’t
agree, he might carry on with that funny dance. “Okay, okay. Salsa next week.”
    I could hardly
get that image of Frank dancing out of my mind as I drove home. Salsa
dancing . Goodness, Libby was going to have a good laugh when I told her
about my plans to take the town with Dr. Wilson again.
    As I stepped out
of my car, I cut a little step of my own. Yeah, I still got it. Thank You,
Lord .
    But my smile
faded as I walked up to my screen door and saw the business card wedged in the
doorway. I grabbed the exposed half and opened the door simultaneously.
    Dallas County
Sheriff’s Office . I
gasped. In all my years, hadn’t never had the police come up on my door. The
name on the card read Lieutenant R. Gonzalez .  And somebody
hand-wrote “Call me at your earliest convenience” on the card.
    Father? But before I could get the prayer fully
formed, the answer hit me: This got something to do with Derrick.
     

Chapter 11
     
    I prayed my
nerves back down, then waited up for Derrick like he was my own child out on a
date. Only thing was, I didn’t have a curfew time for a grown man. Actually,
this was the first time all week he had been gone this late in the evening. Had
to be almost ten o’clock before he came rushing through the door.
    And I was
sitting right in the front parlor to greet him. “Evening.”
    “Evening, Mama
B.”
    I thrust the
card at him. “You had a visitor today.”
    He took one look
at the card and fumed, “Aw, snap! They’re watching me!”
    “Who’s watching
you?”
    “The
prosecutors, the judge, the cops, everybody!”
    “Wait a minute
here. Why is the law after you, Derrick? Are you on the run?”
    “No. I’m on
house arrest.” He heitched up his pant leg and
showed me the black box