The first message is from my dizzy sister Suzie Mae, wondering if I’m still in the hospital. If she wanted to know so damn bad, why didn’t she call one of my kids to find out? Then I can’t hardly believe my ears when I hear Charlotte’s voice. At first it don’t even sound like her, she sound so mellow, and I can tell she was calling from a pay phone, ’cause I hear that mall music and a lot of noise in the background. Something must be going on at home, otherwise she wouldn’ta called me like this. At least she called. I ain’t exactly shocked that she ain’t coming out here. I wonder what kind of vacation Al’s going on. Maybe he got a big job on his rig or something. Oh hell, not Cecil? Says he found out I was coming home today and he’ll stop by later to make sure I’m okay. Plus, he say he got some news. I hope he paid the IRS. This would mean I can move when I want to, not ’cause I have to. It just dawned on me, where in the hell will I go if I have to move? I’m living on a fixed income, which seems to keep me in one fix after another all right. I’m meditating on this when I hear Essex, the head of our bowling league, saying they ain’t heard hide nor hair from me, and “We lagging behind without you, Vy. You better hurry up and get your big butt down to the alley. Where you been hiding? You still alive, ain’t you? Don’t die on us before the tournament next month, gal. Chuckle. Chuckle.” Is that a knock at the front door? I do not feel like getting up to answer it, especially if it’s Cecil, or Loretta, ’cause I just barely walked in the house long enough to catch my breath. I ain’t hardly in no mood to be chitchatting yet. I peek through the curtains and, sure enough, it’s Loretta. She done dyed her hair again. Now it look lavender. She ought to stop. You can see her pink scalp and straight through her hair ’cause it’s so thin, but she got enough mousse and hairspray on it that it look like cotton candy spinning on over her head.

“Viola, are you in there, sweetie?”

Oh shoot. I can’t lie to Loretta like this. I knock on the window to get her attention and she walks over and stands there. “Hi, Loretta. Thanks for stopping by, honey, but I just got home and I’m supposed to stay in bed at least until tomorrow.”

“Okay. But do you need anything? I’m on my way to the supermarket and I could get you something if you want.”

“Thanks, but my son already went for me.”

“Oh, your son is here. That’s nice.”

“Yep. My other kids will be here today, too.”

She looks hurt. Like what is she supposed to do now. “Who did your hair, Loretta?”