I didn’t like to think ill of the dead, but if everything I’d been taught in church was true, Odell was burning in hell. I was still mad at him, but my anger had eased up a little. Now when people praised him in my presence, it didn’t disgust me as much when I smiled and agreed with them. Despite his actions, my life was still moving in a positive direction. I had a much better life now because of what he’d done.

I ran into Aunt Mattie last month at Mosella’s while I was having lunch with some of my coworkers. She’d followed me to the restroom and told me why Odell had been fired from his handyman job at her place before I met him. She’d caught him attempting to rob one of her most important tricks. Her prostitutes had confessed to her that Odell would pressure them to have sex with him for free behind her back, two and three times a week. Another man, who’d worked at the house the same time as Odell, blabbed that he used to steal food and liquor from her pantry and sell it to rival madams. If I had known all that before I met that low-down, conniving, greedy, funky, black dog, I never would have gotten involved with him. Then he, Yvonne, and Milton would still be alive. My worshipping and praising him like he was a god, had made him even worse. Just as I was about to excuse myself and go back to my table, Aunt Mattie said something that almost made me faint. “I seen your baby girl. Your mama showed her off at the church bake sale last week. I done good, didn’t I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That neipee ain’t never failed yet . . .”

I didn’t know what to say. While I was trying to find the right words, Aunt Mattie gave me a sly look and went on. “Clarabelle told me you sent her to me to get some help so you could have a baby. I wish you had come to me yourself. I would have given you a discount.”

I gasped so hard I choked on some air. My face felt like it was on fire. I hadn’t seen Clarabelle since the day she’d picked up the neipee for me, so I had no idea she had blabbed after all. I made a mental note that if I needed help again from a hoodoo, I’d go to one who didn’t know me. “I . . . I hope you don’t go around broadcasting my business. I don’t want folks, especially my mama and daddy, to think I believe in all that . . . um . . . what you do.”