When they got to urgent care, Sheba was informed that her grandmother’s insurance was not being accepted and she would have to pay for her to be seen.

  “How much would that be?”

  “Two hundred and seventy-five dollars.”

  Sheba reached into her purse and handed the woman her credit card. Once she ran the card, Sheba was given a receipt, and she went to sit down with Miss Pearl.

  “What was the problem?”

  “For some reason, your insurance wasn’t accepted,” Sheba said and looked for a number to call on the back of the card.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m calling the insurance company now to see what the problem is.”

  While Sheba was on hold to speak to customer service, a nurse came and took her grandmother to be seen by the doctor. When a service rep did come on the line, she told Sheba that the policy was canceled for nonpayment, and she was transferred to an agent.

  “Unfortunately, your grandmother will need to reapply to be covered.”

  “I understand. I’m at urgent care with her right now.”

  “I will call you tomorrow, and we can get your grandmother reinstated. But that coverage won’t take effect until the first of next month,” the agent stated, and Sheba ended the call. Her next call was to the bank, where she was able to speak with the branch manager, who turned out to be the bearer of more bad news.

  “Thank you very much for holding, Miss Styles,” the branch manager said when she came back on the line. “And thank you very much for your patience.”

  “No problem. I just need to know what’s going on with her accounts.”

  There was a second or two of silence.

  “I was able to look into the matter and found that the account that the insurance payment was drawn from has been closed, as well as her savings account. The only active account Mrs. Harrison has open is the account that her social security check is deposited into.”

  “There must be some mistake. Why would my grandmother close those accounts?”

  “Your grandmother didn’t close them. The accounts were closed by a Millicent Harrison. She has your grandmother’s power of attorney.”

  “I see.” Sheba paused to exhale past her anger. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Were you aware that the house is in foreclosure and a final notice has been sent?”

  “No, I wasn’t aware,” she said and thought about the past-due bills and the final notice she’d seen earlier. “How far behind is she?”

  “$11,299.68.”

  “Shit. When was the last time a payment was made?”

  “It’s been over a year.”

  “How much would it cost to get the house out of foreclosure?”

  “$2,394 will stop the action.”

  “Do you take credit cards for payment?”

  “Yes, we certainly do. What’s the card number?”

  With that handled for the moment, Sheba’s next call was to Chanel. “Did you know that Grandma’s house was about to go into foreclosure and that she has no insurance?”

  “What? I thought that Aunt Millicent was taking care of all that for her after Granddaddy died.”

  “I thought so too, but apparently what your aunt was doing was robbing Grandma blind. She closed all her accounts and stole her savings.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I weren’t.” Sheba saw a nurse come out of the back who appeared to be coming in her direction. “I’m at urgent care with Grandma, Chanel. I’ll call you back.”

  “Why are you at urgent care with Grandma?” Chanel asked, but Sheba had already ended the call and was on her feet waiting for the nurse.

  “Miss Styles?”

  “Yes. How’s my grandmother?”

  “She’s fine. We were able to get her pressure under control with medication, and she needs to follow up with her primary care physician to get her other medications up to date. However, the doctor is concerned about the persistent cough. Do you know how long she’s had that?”

  “No. I just got home from the military yesterday.”

  “I see. First, thank you very much for your service to our country.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The doctor would like to transfer your grandmother to Decatur Medical Center for further observation and to run some tests.”

  After that, Miss Pearl was transported by ambulance to Decatur Medical Center. Sheba sent Chanel a text message to meet her there, and then she headed for the hospital. Upon arrival, she got her grandmother checked in.

  “Since your grandmother only has Medicare, she’ll be billed for the amount that Medicare doesn’t pay.”

  “I understand,” Sheba said, signed as being the party responsible for the bill, and went to sit down in the waiting area. It was forty-five minutes later when Chanel arrived at the hospital and sat down.

  “How’s Grandma?”

  “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “I checked her blood pressure this morning—”

  “She let you check it? I try, but she never lets me. She says she is a grown woman and is more than capable of checking her own pressure.”

  “Well, it was really high, and when I went to get her meds, she was out of her pressure pills and a couple of others, so I took her to urgent care, and that was when I found out she has no insurance.”

  “I was sure Aunt Millicent was taking care of all of that for Grandma.”

  “Apparently not. Apparently, she was robbing her blind before she died.”

  “That is so foul,” Chanel said as Demi came into the waiting room.

  “If she weren’t already dead, I’d kill her myself,” Sheba said.

  “If who weren’t already dead?” Demi asked.

  “Your mother,” Sheba said and hugged her. “Hey, Demi.” She broke their embrace and looked at her younger cousin. “You lost weight, and your face looks drawn.”

  “Whatever, Sheba,” Demi said and hugged Sheba again. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  “Now, what did the Wicked Witch of the West do this time?” Demi asked of her mother, calling her by the name they used to call her as kids.

  “She was stealing all of Grandma’s money,” Chanel said as the doctor approached them.

  “Miss Styles? I’m Dr. Kulkarni. I’m a pulmonologist here at Decatur Medical Center, and I conducted the examination of your grandmother.”

  “How is she?”

  “My preliminary diagnosis of her condition is emphysema. It’s a disease of the lungs that usually develops after many years of smoking.”

  “She quit smoking two years ago,” Chanel said.

  “But she’ll be the first one to tell you that she started smoking when she was thirteen,” Demi added.

  “Emphysema is a condition that involves damage to the walls of the alveoli of the lung. Alveoli are small, thin-walled, very fragile air sacs located in clusters at the end of the bronchial tubes deep inside the lungs,” Dr. Kulkarni advised them.

  “What’s the treatment for emphysema?” Sheba wanted desperately to know.

  “Once it develops, emphysema can’t be reversed.”

  Chapter 6

  It was late the following afternoon when Sheba got home from the hospital. Dr. Kulkarni recommended that Miss Pearl be kept overnight for observation. However, when Sheba arrived to take her grandmother home the following day, she was informed by the hospital staff that the doctor had ordered the tests she had spoken to Sheba about.

  “The diagnosis of emphysema cannot be made based solely on the symptoms,” Dr. Kulkarni explained the night before. “There are several tests that are used to make the diagnosis. I’m going to order a CAT scan and spirometry and pulmonary function tests to determine airway blockage. I’d also like to do an ECG to check her heart function and rule out heart disease as a cause of her shortness of breath.”

  With everything going on with Miss Pearl and her health, Sheba barely had time to think about the fact that her aunt Millicent had stolen from her grandmother and left her uninsured and on the verge of foreclosure. Maybe she had a reason to do it, but for the life of her, Sheba couldn’t see one. All she could think was, how could she do that to her own mother?

  “Did you know what your mother was doing?” Sheba asked Demi the night before at the hospital.

  “That she had stolen money from Grandma? No, I didn’t know anything about it,” Demi said, but it was only partially true. She didn’t know that her mother had stolen money from her mother, but she knew the money to pay off the loan sharks came from somewhere. She looked at the rage in Sheba’s eyes and knew her cousin well enough to know that she should keep the story to herself at least for the time being.

  “You sure?” Chanel asked. “Because this sounds more like some shit you might do.”

  “Damn, that’s fucked up, Chanel.”

  “What? You trying to act all brand new because Sheba’s here. Is that what this is?” She paused. “Because I know you, and I know that you will do whatever, beg for it, borrow it, and if that doesn’t work, steal that shit. Ain’t that your line?”

  “It is, but I swear on Granddaddy’s grave that I would never do that to Grandma.” She looked at Chanel and pointed. “That hurt. I may be a little on the grimy side, but that’s family.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chanel said.

  “And it is good to see you, fam,” Sheba said and hugged Demi.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Sheba,” she said, and Chanel made it a group hug.

  “See, this is more like it.”

  “What?”

  “First you say I’m too skinny, and then you accuse me of robbing Grandma. It’s about time y’all show me some love.”

  “All the love in the world for you.”

  Sheba looked at Demi. She had lost a lot of weight since the last time she saw her. Demi’s once-wide hips were all but gone, as were her once-healthy breasts, and her skin looked dry. It was obvious to anyone who wanted to pay attention that Demi was hooked on cocaine, probably smoking it, and more likely than not, she was running with the wrong crowd.

  Just then, Sheba was startled by a loud banging on the door. As the banging continued, she went to the door and looked out. Sheba smiled and opened the door.

  “What’s up, what’s up?” Floyd said and picked Sheba up.

  “What’s up, Floyd?”

  He put her down. “What’s up, Sheba the queen?”

  “I’m good, I’m good. What’s up with you?”

  He leaned forward. “Grandma’s not here, right?”

  “No, she’s still in the hospital. You can come in,” Sheba said, and Floyd came into the house. “What’s up with you and Jody being banned from the house anyway?”

  “Grandma said that she knows that we’re nice boys, good boys, but she just can’t have no drug dealers coming in and out of her house.”

  Sheba led them into the living room, and they sat down. “You and Jody selling drugs now?”

  “It’s in the blood. Damn near a family business.”

  “What you talking about?”

  Floyd shook his head. “There’s a lot of shit you don’t know.” He laughed. “Lotta shit about the old days that I didn’t know until Pops told me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Any brew left from the party?”

  “Cooler on the back porch,” she said, and Floyd bounced up to get one.

  “You want one?”

  “Yeah. But I really need something stronger.”

  “Not in this house.” He handed Sheba a bottle and sat down.

  “You were about to tell me what I don’t know.”

  “Did you know that my pops was in business down here and that he used to bring the dope to New York for your mom and pops to sell?”

  “I knew my mother kept selling until she died, but I didn’t know about your father.”

  “Did you know that my pops was in Detroit when your pops got shot? My pops kept that shit going for a long time while we were kids before he gave it up.”

  “No, I didn’t know any of that.” But it was good to know. “How are Uncle Al and Aunt Tina doing?”

  “They’re good, still down in Kingsland taking care of Grandpa. He said to tell you hello, and my mother said that she hopes to see you soon.”

  “Tell your mama I’ll get down there to see her. How is Grandpa Pete?”

  “Dementia’s getting worse. Hard to keep him in the house.” Floyd laughed. “Pops hired a nurse to keep up with him, but then he started fucking the woman. So one day while they’re fucking, Grandpa leaves, and it took them the rest of the day to find him. Then he had to explain to my moms how two of them were in the house and he still got away.”

  Floyd laughed, and so did Sheba, because it was a cute story. However, since there were four kilos of cocaine in a briefcase under her bed, Sheba was more interested in the fact that he and Jody were in the drug business.

  “So how deep in the game are you two?”

  “We doing all right,” Floyd answered, and Sheba decided not to push the conversation. One thing that the day before told her was that she needed money to save the house and cover her grandmother’s upcoming medical bills.

  “What’s up with you and Demi?”

  “I don’t fuck with her. That’s what’s up with me and Demi.”

  “Why?”

  “Demi called me one night and said that she needed me to come pick her up. When I get there, she says, ‘I’m sorry,’ and then three masked niggas robbed me. They took my money, the dope I had on me, and my car, and all she got to say is sorry. No, Sheba, I can’t fuck with that girl no more. I got nothing but love for her. I just can’t fuck with her.”

  “I hear you.”

  Floyd looked at his watch. “Look, cuz, it’s good to see you. Glad you’re home and all that, but I got someplace I need to be.”

  “Go where you gotta go. I’m home for good, and you know where to find me.”

  “Cool.” He started for the door. “I’ma come scoop you up tonight. We’ll hit the clubs, celebrate you being back home where your ass belongs.”

  “I see this.”

  “I heard about what Aunt Millicent did.” He opened the door. “That’s why we need Sheba the queen to straighten shit out. I’m out,” Floyd said and closed the door behind him.

  It had gotten late in the day, and Sheba was hungry because she hadn’t eaten all day, but after looking in the refrigerator, she decided that she didn’t want any of the leftovers. She decided to go and get something to eat at Grindhouse Killer Burgers.

  It wasn’t crowded when Sheba walked in, but there was a line, so she got in it and looked up at the menu. That was when she noticed the man next in line to be served.

  “Next in line!”

  “I’d like to place an order to go,” came a voice so deep that it reverberated in her ear. He was at least six two with a muscular build and deep mahogany skin that seemed to glow.

  “Go ahead with your order.”

  “Grindhouse Style with grilled onions, American cheese, Grindhouse sauce, pickles, and lettuce.”

  “You wanna make that a combo?”

  “Yes, please,” he said and turned toward her. Sheba saw full, sexy lips framed by a close-cropped beard that she had seen before.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll have that for you in just a minute,” she said, and he paid for his meal. “Next!” the cashier shouted, and he stepped to the side to wait for his food.

  “Dante?” Sheba said softly.

  He looked at her. “Sheba.”

  His name was Dante Manfred, he was once her boyfriend, and he was the reason that she joined the Marines. Ten years ago, she was pregnant with his baby when Sheba caught him coming out of a room with Desinita Shaw, who was once one of her close friends. Both of them were fixing their clothes. Although both swore that nothing happened, Sheba ran out of there feeling hurt and betrayed by two of the people closest to her. She joined the Marines the next day and aborted the baby she was carrying.

  “It’s me.” She waved. “I thought that was you.”

  “How have you been?” Dante asked and gave her a hug.

  “I’ve been doing fine.”

  “When did you get home?”

  “I got home yesterday.”

  “You look great.”

  She looked at the man she once planned to build her world around. “So do you.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Ten years,” she said.

  There was a time when Sheba could have told him how many days, hours, and minutes it had been, but she’d moved past that point. It took him a second, but Sheba could tell by the way his expression changed that he remembered the last time he saw her.

  Dante remembered the night he kissed Desinita and they broke up over it. Sheba never told him, so he never knew that she was pregnant with his baby. All he knew was that after that night, Sheba avoided him until she joined the Marines, and he never saw her again until that moment.

  “How long are you home for?” Dante asked.

  “Home for good.”

  “Next in line!” the cashier shouted impatiently, and Sheba stepped to the counter to order her food.

  “I’d like an Apache Style killer burger with grilled onions and Pepper Jack cheese.”

  “You wanna make that a combo?”

  “Nope, just the burger.”

  “I’ll have that for you in just a minute,” she said, and Sheba paid for her meal. “Next!” the cashier shouted. Sheba stepped to where Dante was standing waiting for his food.

  “Grindhouse Style combo!”

  “That’s me,” he said and excused himself to go and get his food. Once Dante got his food, he walked back over to Sheba, thinking of something clever to say. “What did you get?”

  “I got the Apache Style burger.”