LITMIR.BIZ

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discussed any of their dates, real or imagined.

      Mother Blister’s patience was growing shorter than a flea’s facial hair. There didn’t seem to be an end or an answer forthcoming to the women’s plight. With one dark leathery hand sporting long veins forming the shape of a road map, and age spots resembling routes, exits and all, Mother Blister pulled back her tatty wig. She fumbled around and picked up the Bible beside her that lay open to the “Song of Solomon,” resting with her other hand on the end table. She could tell that it was a passage that Needy must’ve read often because the ink was faded, the page folded repeatedly, and the verses highlighted while the rest of the Bible looked brand new.

      Mother Blister grinned as she remembered the essence of the erotic verses before she hurriedly closed the Bible. She didn’t want to let the words of love go, so she hugged the Bible tightly to her sagging breasts as if to bring heaven a little closer.

      Mother Blister’s pink rubbery gums supporting her dentures looked like two thick pieces of hard Bazooka bubblegum, laying one atop the other as she smiled and nodded, “I agree with Needy. I want to hear about your dates; if you’ve had any.” She squinted over her bifocals and pointed around the room. “I’m hoping that somebody in this room had a chance to be with a man lately—”

      Needy interrupted Mother Blister that time, not caring that the woman was the senior member. Needy needed to regain control of the meeting so she added impatiently, “In addition to relating or lying about your dates, please for once let’s not give the man’s last name. We don’t need another fight like the one at the last meeting when Petunia and Gracie Charles thought that they were going after the same man.”

      “I agree,” Cill butted in. “Y’all know it’s a shame that it wasn’t until Gracie was released from the emergency room that we found out that she and Petunia were actually chasing father and son.” Cill sat back proudly and pointed at Needy. “I’m sorry. You were about to get somewhere with this sordid trip down memory lane.”

      Needy’s muddy brown skin was beginning to turn beet red but she was also determined to show a little decorum and not sink to Cill’s level. “Now, let’s get down to it,” she said with her lips curling, “because our common denominator is the we still need a man factor.

      After all, it was Needy’s house and until things changed, she was the man of it.

      While Needy began to recount the several imaginary encounters she would’ve had with men she’d never met, which was unnecessary because none of them had a man, Birdie found herself looking over at Petunia.

      As physically challenged as Petunia might’ve looked at thirty-six, Birdie wasn’t much better at the age of forty-two, with just a little more meat on her bones.

      Birdie suddenly started feeling uneasy. A twinge of jealousy was invading her spirit, and she wasn’t comfortable about it. She sat farther back in her chair and started to sulk when she realized why. She was afraid that Petunia might get a real date before she did.

      Petunia wasn’t aware of Birdie’s discomfort as she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth at Needy. She held up one skinny palm so Needy could talk to it, instead. With her position silently stated, Petunia wiggled in her seat, eager to start the lying fest. Looking like a nervous and anemic worm on a hook, she was so busy trying to be dramatic that she didn’t see Birdie jump from her seat, trying to be the first one to set it off.

      Birdie shuffled her feet from side to side, ready to deliver her news. “While Petunia is getting her act together, I’ve got something to tell.”

      Knowing that she had all eyes upon her, Birdie took time to flick away an invisible piece of lint from her green couture dress. She wanted to give the other women a chance to envy her new matching green Manolo Blahnik shoes. Which was something she’d never have done before joining this very vocal group.

      The way the other women, including Needy, smiled and gave appreciative nods towards Birdie now angered Petunia. No, this heifer did not dismiss me, Petunia thought, as her eyes narrowed into two slits. Evil thoughts of what she’d like to do to Birdie weighed heavy on Petunia, causing her to sink lower in her seat. She sank until she almost disappeared into the cushions. Any farther and she’d have looked like a needle stuck in a pincushion.

      Making sure she had everyone’s full attention, Birdie’s voice took on a phony seductive tone as she spoke her words, hushed and raspy. “It was simply amazing—”

      “Say what!” Cill blurted, her words tinged with a taste of jealousy. She’d decided that just a nod of acknowledgment would not do. “Please don’t play with us.” She leaned forward while twirling a stubborn chin hair. “How did that happen? Are there any other details?”

      The room was quiet as everyone leaned forward. Birdie thought they were about to hang on her every word but the other women’s attention was really captured by Cill’s unyielding chin hair that she twirled like a baton.

      No one was ever sure if that was the only chin hair Cill had, or just a hair that she’d missed while shaving. But then again, the women were never sure exactly why she attended the singles ministry meeting since she looked like she loved being a switch-hitter in the game of life and a good one at that.

      “Well, until he recently contacted me, it was about two years ago since I’d seen him,” Birdie said slowly as she watched the other women’s attention return from Cill’s stubborn chin hair back to her. “I’d gone to the prison—”

      “You mean to tell us that you got a date and a marriage possibility while up there at the prison?” Petunia interrupted. Thinking there was more drama coming, she was giving Birdie her full attention. She could hardly contain her excitement as she thought, Imagine, meeting a man working in the prison? Why didn’t I think about going to prison?

      “Anyway, like I was saying,” Birdie continued with a little annoyance in her voice as she tossed her long brunette hair over her shoulders with an exaggerated head shake, “it was while I was talking to one of the guards and he was commenting on how nice my outfit was—”

      “Now, ain’t God good? You wore something decent for once and you were rewarded by meeting a nice man with a job,” Mother Blister quipped, cutting Birdie off as she stood to answer the nonstop urge from a non-cooperating bladder. By the time she realized it wasn’t sweat dripping between her legs she really needed to go. All those false alarms finally caught up with her. She was rushing out of the room so fast she looked like a speeding shadow.

      Before Birdie could reply, Needy quickly picked up where Mother Blister left off. “You sure are blessed. You went up to that prison—no doubt to do some prison ministry—and as a reward you got a date two years later with a guard with job benefits. Do you know what that means?”

      “If she doesn’t know then I certainly do,” Cill answered for Birdie. “That means that Birdie gonna be able to use some of those benefits when she marries that guard. She can get gold crowns placed on her teeth so that she’ll look like she belongs. And, of course, that will take care of that halitosis she got.”

      Cill was proud of herself for taking the opportunity to throw that mention of bad breath into the mix. She could tell by the sneaky grins on the other women’s faces that she’d said what they’d been thinking.

      At the mention of her having bad breath Birdie cupped her hands to her mouth and blew into them. She was stunned. No one had ever mentioned that she had bad breath. When people leaned away from her, she always felt it was because her essence was so overpowering and folks wanted to give her space. Now she knew, and the foul-odor truth was trapped in her hands, floating up her nostrils and momentarily making her dizzy. She clutched the end of the bookcase for balance and continued speaking with one hand covering her mouth as if she suddenly had a toothache.

      “That’s not exactly what happened,” Birdie murmured into the palm of her hand. She didn’t want to take a chance of speaking too loudly and having more of her bad breath escape.

      Mumbled or mangled, the words were clear to the others as the sudden, revised revelation spread around the

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