Bring Your Own Poison by Jimmie Ruth Evans

to stop in front of your house. He’d been down at the jail with a client, and he was on his way home. They couldn’t do anything about the car last night because it was so late, so he just called T.J. to come and get him. I’m sure they’ll take care of the car sometime this morning if they can.”
    Amazed that she had been able to get in that many words without being interrupted by either Mrs. Culpepper or Belle, Wanda Nell paused for a deep breath.
    Mrs. Culpepper sniffed into the phone. “Well, they should have called me first thing this morning to let me know what was going on. I wouldn’t have worried so.”
    â€œNow, Lucretia,” Belle said, “you heard Wanda Nell. It was real late last night when all this happened, and those poor boys were probably worn out. I’m sure T.J. would have called you otherwise, but they need their rest, just like you and me.”
    â€œWhen I was their age, I could dance at a party till three in the morning and still be up in time for breakfast with my daddy before he went to work,” Mrs. Culpepper said, apparently still miffed.
    Wanda Nell couldn’t think of a thing to say. She was trying too hard to imagine Mrs. Culpepper as a young woman partying until the wee hours of the morning.
    Belle chuckled. “Oh, Lucretia, you truly are something. They’re only men, honey, and you know men don’t have the stamina us women do.”
    â€œWell, that’s true,” Mrs. Culpepper said. “When I remember the things I used to do at that age, well, they couldn’t keep up with me, I know that for a fact.”
    Wanda Nell seized her chance. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure chatting with you, but I need to see about some breakfast here. Y’all have a good day.” She hung up the phone before either of the older women could start chattering again.
    â€œLord have mercy,” Wanda Nell muttered. She finished getting the coffee on and then went to the refrigerator, intent on fixing breakfast for herself, Miranda, and Lavon. She glanced at the clock and frowned. It was almost eight-thirty. Miranda and Lavon were both usually up by now. She shut the refrigerator and went to check on them.
    She found Miranda in the bathroom, on her knees, throwing up in the toilet.
    â€œHoney, what on earth is wrong?” Wanda Nell soaked a washcloth in cold water, wrung it out, and held it to Miranda’s forehead when she sat back from the toilet.
    â€œI ate too much chocolate last night at the movies,” Miranda said, looking away from her mother. “I knew better, but I just couldn’t help myself.”
    â€œOh, dear,” Wanda Nell said. Miranda loved chocolate, but it sure didn’t love her back. If she ate very much, she got sick to her stomach. “You must have really eaten a lot to make you throw up like this.” Wanda Nell reached for the toilet handle and pulled it.
    â€œI know,” Miranda said, her voice weak. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
    Wanda Nell wiped her forehead and her mouth, just as she had done when Miranda was a child. “Can you get up now, sweetie?”
    Miranda nodded. Putting her hands on the toilet seat, she braced herself and got up from the floor. “I think I’m done.” She took a couple steps and leaned against the sink. “Maybe I ought to lie down for a few minutes.”
    â€œSounds like a good idea,” Wanda Nell said. She rinsed out the washcloth again and gave it to Miranda. “Take this with you, put it across your forehead, okay?”
    Wanda Nell followed Miranda into her bedroom. Lavon was awake, playing happily in his crib with his toys. The minute he saw Wanda Nell, though, he started talking and demanding to be picked up.
    Wanda Nell gave him a kiss and a hug, then picked him up and set him down on the floor. “Come on, sugar, let’s go in the kitchen and we’ll have some