Wrongful Accusations - Chapter 10
Home Cooked Meal
I was having a little trouble with my case, but the only thing that I wanted to think about then was what I was going to eat.
Before I got to the kitchen, I knew there was not going to be anything in the fridge that would satisfy my appetite. Cold cuts, yogurt, leftover meatloaf, none of which I wanted.
The phone rang right before I started to pout, it was my Aunt Essie.
“Professor, how’s it going?”
“Sandra, I am not a professor anymore, I'm a librarian.”
“You’ll always be a professor to me, it’s just like you will always be my aunt.”
Aunt Essie was quiet for a moment. “Sandra, I think I have made a terrible mistake. I don’t feel like I am really serving a purpose there.”
“Maybe you can start tutoring students. I’m sure there are a lot of kids that need help with English composition, especially college students, those essays wreak havoc on your brain.”
“I think that would be a great idea. I don’t think the library will let me do that when I should be standing around waiting on someone to check out a book and making sure the users only stay on the computers for their allotted time.”
“You can quit. You can volunteer at a school or college, or you can tutor them at your house.”
“At my house?”
“Yeah, you have a huge house, just pick a room.”
“Yes, you’re right. Will you help me set it up?”
“Of course, when do you want to start?”
“Today. I’m going to give the library my two week’s notice but I would like for things to be ready before I begin.”
“I’ll be ready when you get here.”
Aunt Essie had a huge smile on her face when I opened the door to her. When I sat down on the couch, I noticed that Aunt Essie was still standing.
“Sandra, I’m worried about you. Why don’t you quit your job and then we can start this tutoring venture together?”
“Professor, why would I do that? I didn’t get hurt in the line of duty; I was out riding my bike, minding my own business when my neighbor’s obsession with me went up to a criminal level.”
“But you work on these terrible cases, looking for murderers. What would you do if one of these people decided to come after you?”
“Aunt Essie, relax, I’ve got this under control. I know what I’m doing. You know I’ll help you with the students whenever I can, just let me know what you need me to do.”
“Well, I would like for you to make flyers and get all of the email information for each school within the North Memphis area. I will draft a memo that states the details and we will email that information to the schools. If we do not receive much response, we will include schools in South Memphis and then Whitehaven.”
“I think that you may want to reconsider having all of these kids in your house. You don’t need anything coming up missing.”
“Darling, that’s what the security cameras are for. You aren’t the only one who is up on that type of technology.”
“Okay, professor. Looks like you’ve got it all under control. We’ll see what happens.”
When I had asked Aunt Essie to take me to McDonald's for a McRib, she said that she would bring me to her house for some real food. I always loved my aunt’s historical Midtown home, I loved the whole street.
Every year, in November, the neighbors began putting up their Christmas lights. When I was a child, people came from all over the city to see the beautiful lights and Nativity scenes. I would walk or ride my bike down the street and watch how the lights reflected off of my jacket, it was great.
I followed Aunt Essie into the kitchen, where she pulled out fixings for grilled chicken fajitas, my favorite next to pizza. She asked if I wanted to go to the grocery store once we finished eating. I didn’t think carrying Kroger bags up the stairs, with a sprained leg and bruised ribs would be such a good idea. I did have another request.
“Aunt Essie, can I spend the night with you? We haven’t done that in years, I think I’m having auntie withdrawal symptoms.”
Aunt Essie threw her head back and laughed, “Of course, you can spend the night darling. I would love to have you. At least I know you’ll have some decent meals while you’re here.”
I smiled; it was great having such a loving aunt that still loved to spoil me at 35 years old. Then I thought about my mother and realized that she hadn’t even called to see if I was still alive or dead. I would call her, maybe.
Aunt Essie and I talked as we ate our fajitas. I struggled to make sure more food got into my mouth than on my shirt.
“Sandra, you still have not learned how to eat without trying to feed your breast.”
“No ma’am, I guess not,” I laughed.
For the remainder of the night, Aunt Essie and I watched movies and drank my favorite, margaritas. Usually, I don’t confide in my aunt about my cases, but I wanted to know what she thought of Mrs. Muhammad.
“Do you think she killed him?” Aunt Essie asked.
“I think so, but I have to prove it.”
“Have you been to her house?”
“Not yet, I’m waiting for my leg to get a little better.”
“Are you expecting her to put up a fight?”
“I would if I was trying to get away with killing my cheating husband.”
Aunt Essie nodded, “You should take Nicole with you. I’m sure she’ll be up for the challenge.”
“I thought about that but she’s never dealt with a murderer before, only people that were accused of murder but didn’t do it.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No ma’am.”
“What did I tell you about assuming things?”
“Assume means making an “ass” out of “u” and “me”.
“Exactly, and I don’t believe I have raised an ass, do you?”
“Hell…heck no! I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”
“That’s a good girl,” Aunt Essie said, patting me on my head like I was a poodle. I looked at her. She was too messed up from the alcohol and I wasn’t too far behind her.
If you missed any chapters —Wrongful Accusations
There's a healthy balance in this scene, emotional nourishment + the feel good factor of healthy food.