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Betsy raised her eyebrows at me as if she expected I would offer sympathy and ate with her review of Mama's music. When she saw I wasn't going to come to her defense, she shook her head.

"I can't wait." she said. "Look at how much it's done for Noble man."

"I'd rather you didn't call him that," Mama quickly retorted, but still held on to her smile.

"Noble? You don't want me calling him Noble? I thought that was his name. Does he have a nickname?"

I felt the blood rise to my cheeks.

"I don't want you calling him Noble man. " Mama looked at me. "He is a very noble man, but his name is just Noble, as yours is just Betsy and not Betsy girl," Mama explained as pointedly and as carefully as she would explain to a foreigner.

"Right," Betsy said. "Fine. Noble it is." She really looked as if she didn't have the energy to put up any arguments. At her father's obvious urging, she thanked Mama for the evening and left ahead of him, showing how anxious she was to get out of our house.

"I'm sorry about her behavior," Mr. Fletcher told Mama when we all stepped out together.

"She'll get better," Mama assured him.

He shook his head and smiled at her neverending- optimism. "You're something. Sarah. Thank you far everything." He kissed her goodnight. He patted me on the shoulder but gave Baby Celeste a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

"Bye-bye.'' she called, and he laughed.

"What a child." he cried back to us, got into his car, and drove off., We stood there watching the car go down the driveway.

"You never told me about all the work that was done on what would be Betsy's bedroom. Mama." It had been simmering under my tongue ever since Mama had showed it to Betsy.

"Work was done on your room as well. Noble," Mama said. smiling, "We all love you and will never stop loving you."

"I know, but you never mentioned doing anything to that room. I was just surprised."

Her smile evaporated quickly. "You sound more envious than surprised. You wouldn't be either if you were trying," she accused, and went back inside with Baby Celeste, who was looking at me over Mama's shoulder with a similar expression of accusation on her face. Sometimes, she reminded me of a puppet when she was with Mama.

"Trying? What do you mean. trying? What haven't I done?" I asked. following.

Mama paused and turned slowly back to me. "You're not doing enough if anything is a surprise to you. Put out all the lights and go to bed." She started up the stairs to put Baby Celeste to bed. Rather than her rising above me. however. I felt as if I were sinking lower and lower with every step she took, shrinking until I might disappear into the floor.

If anything was a surprise to me? What was all that supposed to mean? What did she expect me to know?

I put out the lights and ascended the stairs, feeling almost as exhausted and depressed as Betsy. However, once again, as was too often these days, sleep was hard to capture. I tossed and turned, fretting in and out of dreams full of faces I'd never seen. voices I'd never heard. In between, I saw Betsy's smirking face and felt her eves crawling over my body like two spiders trying to get into every opening.

She stayed away from our house all the following week. Whenever Mr. Fletcher appeared for dinner, he said she was either not feeling well or seeing some friends. Both Mama and I knew he was making excuses for her. but Mama pretended it didn't matter or upset her. while I was relieved not to be swimming through all that tension.

The talk at dinner was always about the wedding and what would follow. Mr. Fletcher and Mama still had no plans for any sort of honeymoon, but they did talk about trips we might all take in the near future. I couldn't imagine Betsy being part of any of it.

Possibly because the gossip about us in the community was now so thick and curiosity about us so overwhelming. Mama's regular group of customers returned more often and new customers accompanied them. No matter what remedies they sought, their conversation always turned to Mama's impending marriage to Mr. Fletcher. Everyone wanted to look at Baby Celeste, who always enjoyed their attention. It was truly as if she knew how to model and perform the way Mama wanted her to perform. She'd smile, talk, and let anyone who wanted to hug her, hug her. If Mr. Fletcher was there at the same time, the visitors obviously considered it a bonus. Anyone could see how quickly Baby Celeste had taken to him. Heads would nod like those of the little toy animals people put in the rear windows of their automobiles. Off the busybodies went like hens clucking eagerly to spread the news.

"People are talking about us everywhere," Mama said. She called it "a symphony of wagging tongues" and laughed as if she were the satisfied orchestra conductor. Indeed. everything Mama wanted to happen seemed to be falling into place. Unlike me, nothing surprised her. She expected it all and her confidence influenced my own growing belief that higher spiritual powers were truly directing her every decision.

The crowning piece then occurred. Ten days after the New York couple had visited Mr. Fletcher's house. they made an offer. He countered and they settled. Everyone who visited us and learned of the relatively quick sale was astonished. From what I overheard them say, real estate apparently didn't move that rapidly in our area, and certainly not a house as old as the one the Fletchers had bought. Suddenly, instead of bad luck attending anyone who had personal involvement with Mama, good luck came. Combined with the positive results enjoyed from her herbal medicines and supplements, this new air of promise about Mama encouraged the gossips and meddlers to want to be in her aura, to shake her hand, to touch her or have her touch them.

One of Mama's strong beliefs was in fact a faith in her ability to transfer good energy into someone. It wasn't exactly the same as what people called the laying on of hands. She never claimed to have divine powers. Instead, she talked about an inner heat. Her body was simply blessed with the ability to capture the positive spiritual flow around all of us and channel it into people who needed and desired it.

How many times had I seen her place her palms on someone's temples, close her eyes, and hold her hands there until the client, as she liked to refer to him or to her, opened his or her eyes and declared the headache was gone? She removed aches and pains in should

ers and arms. legs and stomachs, and together with her herbal concoctions, she cured insomnia, indigestion, arthritis, migraines. as well as sped up the healing of operations and injuries.

I could still remember her soothing Daddy's tired muscles and healing his aches and strains with merely the massaging of his shoulders and back.

"I don't know if you have powers or not. Sarah," he would say, "but I sure like your warm touch."