P.S. I know your first name is Glenn but what's your last name?

There. I slide away from the computer and try to figure out what I can do to fill up the rest of the night or to make the time pass until I hear the computer letting me know I've got mail. I decide on laundry. I do three loads, including drying them and folding them. Nothing. I take a very long shower, wash and condition my hair. I'm due for a new weave and so I leave a message for Joseph at Oasis to let me know if he can squeeze me in sometime next week. He's usually booked months in advance. But he likes me.

"Mom, can I come in?"

"No, go away, Sparrow. I'm relaxing."

"Well, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"What if I change my mind about a party?"

"Too late."

I hear her stamp her foot.

"How could it suddenly become cool to have a sweet sixteen party in a matter of hours?" I say.

"I don't know. But I don't want to have like something huge. Just a few friends over."

"What made you change your mind? This sounds a little fishy."

"I don't know. Seeing Grandma. Maybe I overreacted. Turning sixteen is a big deal. Don't you think?"

"Of course it is."

"But there's a catch."

"What is that, Sparrow?"

"I'll only have one if you have one, too."

"Then forget it."

"Then I'll just be depressed. Thanks for caring. I'm going to sleep. Oh, sounds like you just got an e-mail."

I grab my bathrobe. Before I have a chance to tie the sash, I brush past Sparrow and head down the hall to collapse in front of the computer. I close my door and click on. I hear hers close, too. It is an e-mail from Dark Angel. My heart is beating so fast I almost can't stand it. I pray my daughter is wrong. I pray he is who he says he is. I don't care if he never becomes my boyfriend or my husband, I just want him to be legitimate.

I open it: Hello there, Ms. Tiger Lady: Nice hearing from you. To answer your question, I haven't written a poem since the one I sent you, but I have more than enough for a book. Finding a publisher is hard when you're a poet. I've been thinking about self-publishing, although it's expensive. But you never know. I'm glad you liked the poem I wrote for you. It's kind of embarrassing to be so open about your feelings sometimes. So, yes, I'm looking forward to meeting you at our agreed-upon date and time and my last name is Cook. My address is 100 Seal View Drive, Chandler, AZ 85249. Anyway, I'm exhausted. Been a very long day. So I'll sign off for now. By the way, I'm going to visit my folks for a couple of weeks and may or may not have Internet service. They live outside of Baton Rouge. So if you don't hear from me until we hook up, don't freak out. Dark Angel.

"Yes!"

Good Vibrations

"Hi, Joseph," Gloria said from her car phone.

"Hey, Miss Glo. How are you this lovely morning?"

"I'm better today than I was yesterday. I think I must be losing my mind though, Joseph. I forget more than I remember. I meant to tell you my annual blood test and mammogram is today. I also forgot the vacuum isn't picking up anything so I'm going to stop by Home Depot and buy a new one. Anyway, I should be in before noon."

"Would you mind getting a couple of cans of Brasso? We're also low on lightbulbs if you are so moved, sweetheart."

"No problem. I'll see you in a minute, then."

"Wait! Glo?"

"Yeah."

"Could we chat a few minutes after we close tonight?"

"Sure, baby. Is everything all right?"

"I hope it will be."

"It's not Javier, is it?"

"No no no. He's fine. We're fine. It's nothing for you to be alarmed about. I just wanted to run something by you."

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"Hell no! After twenty years? You need to get right with God. I said it's nothing to worry about so don't go getting yourself all in a tizzy."

"Wait a second! Did you see who's coming in today?"

"I haven't checked everybody's schedule yet but now that I know you'll be a little late, I will."

"Sister Monroe is back in town."

"I heard. Grandma Dearest herself. I hope she's calmed down with age. I also heard she not only had work done but she did the gastric bypass thing. So there's less of her to get on our nerves."

"We'll soon see, won't we?"

After she left the imaging office, Gloria felt lucky when less than two blocks away she spotted the sign for Good Vibrations Hardware. She pulled into a parking space right out front. Most of the industrial vacuum cleaners were priced the same, so she didn't need to drive halfway across town to Home Depot. This must be an upscale hardware store, she thought, after seeing that the glass was tinted a little darker than most establishments in Phoenix. She could tell they got hit with southern exposure, so it made sense. Unlike most hardware stores, this one didn't have flowers or lawn mowers or wheelbarrows or shovels near the entrance. Gloria was relieved because it was why she always ended up with gadgets she didn't need or had no idea how to use, especially since Marvin had been gone.

When Gloria stepped inside, her eyeballs opened as wide as they could and then froze. The first thing she saw was an erect pink penis sitting on an acrylic stand. It looked like it was floating. As her eyes traveled across the aisles, there was a chorus line of penises in various shapes and sizes. It was clear this was not the kind of hardware store she had in mind. Penises were everywhere, perched high and low on wooden shelves.

It seemed as if they might come to life and attack her. It gave her the creeps. She didn't, however, rush to leave, much as she was tempted to. Gloria was more afraid someone might recognize her and think she was desperate for things to have come to this. Of the fifteen or twenty folks in here, she was grateful no one looked familiar.

Reluctant to walk around, Gloria also felt a tinge of excitement at the thought that you could actually buy the kind of penis you always wanted. Not that she had been thinking about one. If she had, it would've been Marvin's. As things stood, she had accepted the fact that she might never be sexually active again. And it was okay. She had no idea how much a fake penis cost and wondered what their return policy was. She started chuckling at the thought that you can take anything back to Nordstrom's no-questions-asked. What would a woman or a man say (not that she had any intentions of buying one of these things): "This didn't fit" or "This one didn't work for me?"

"May I help you?" she heard a male voice say from behind her.

When Gloria turned around, she was surprised to see a young woman. She was dressed all in black and both arms were covered with so many colored tattoos you couldn't see her skin. She had tiny barbells through holes where there shouldn't be any: the middle of her tongue, her chin, the side of her eyebrow. The scariest of all went through the center of her nose. What was the point of them all, Gloria wondered? "I thought this was a hardware store!" she blurted out.

"Well, it is, sweetheart. Would you like me to show you how some of them work?"

Gloria pressed the palm of her hand against her chest like a schoolmarm. "Oh no, that won't be necessary."

"Well, some work better than others."

"I've never been in a store quite like this before."

"No need to be embarrassed, sistah. We all have needs and sometimes we have to satisfy them."

"I suppose there's some truth to that."

"Feel free to turn them on. Some vibrate. Don't be afraid to hold them to see how warm they get."

Gloria lowered her head and looked at her feet. She didn't know this young lady, and here they were talking about penises. As she headed toward the door Gloria noticed a shelf full of clitoris stimulators. She must've walked right past them when she came in. Between the creams and oils, feathers and whips, plus stacks of movies, Gloria was a little weirded-out by it all. "Thank you very much," she said to the young woman, who now had a line at the counter.

"You're quite welcome. Have a nice day, and come back to see us soon," she said.

"I'll do that." Gloria got in her car and headed straight for the salon. She decided to keep her mouth shut and not tell anybody what a fool she had made of herself. Her girlfriends especially. They'd have a field day.

The music met her at the back door. John Legend, to be exact. At forty-three, Joseph still held down the music front. He often bumped heads with Twyla and Joline. They loved hip-hop. He tolerated it. They loved rap. He hated it, couldn't stand the language: everybody was a bitch, a ho, a motherfucker or a fag. Gloria would not allow any of it in the salon. Right next to the front door was a big sign that read: No Profanity No Unnecessary Gossip No Loud Talking on Cell Phones (turn off all ringers, including ringtones) No negative comments about anyone based on race, physical features, gender or sexual preference.

Absolutely no personal checks.

No hot food.

No dogs. No children under 9 or 10 (unless they are getting their hair done).

We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.

So relax. We hope you enjoy our services.

(10-20% discount on all referrals) The Management OASIS HAIR & BEAUTY.

"Good afternoon, everybody." Gloria waved as she headed toward her office.

"What up, Ms. Glo?" Joline asked, never expecting an answer. The tips of her blond dreadlocks were pink today.

"Hi there, cutie," Twyla said. She had greeted Gloria the same way each and every day for the past three years.

"Hey, Miss Thang," Joseph said. He gave her the two-cheek kiss even as he struggled, trying to cornrow Chrysanthemum's one-inch snatch of hair so he'd be able to stitch an eighteen-inch bone-straight weft onto it. He was shaking his head so she couldn't see him.

"Hey, baby."

"You need some help with the vacuum?" he asked.

"Oh, shoot!"

"If you forgot my Brasso I'm going to beat you."

"I'm sorry, Joseph. They ran late at the imaging place and I was rushing to get back here."

"Rushing for what?"

"Yeah, rushing for what?" Joline asked.

"Just stuff I need to take care of. I'll pick everything up tomorrow. Promise."

"Well, I'll let you off the hook today, and we can make Twyla sweep up."

"I don't mind," Twyla said. She was prettier than most of the girls in those rap videos on BET. Her maple skin looked like satin. Today, her hair was pushed back and brushed up on top of her head like one huge comma.

"Not to worry. I'll do it," Joseph said.

When Sister Monroe walked through the door, Gloria almost didn't recognize her. She was half of her old self. She looked weird, as if her head was now too big for her body. Her hair was no longer flame red but burgundy. Her roots were silver and those three-inch stilettos she was famous for wearing had been replaced by hush puppies. She still limped as if she weighed three-hundred-plus pounds.

"Hello there, Sister Monroe," Joseph said. "You are looking fabulous! Those missing pounds certainly agree with you."

"Why, thank you, Joey. It ain't no fun feeling like you walking into church on a bed of hot coals."

"I hear you Sister Monroe. And it's Joseph. But Joey is okay, too."

"You all can call me by my real name now, too: it's Johnnie Lee. I quit my old church a long time ago. I worship at a non-what is it? demo, deno-demoninational church where you don't have to prescribe to just one religion. Anyway, it's nice to see at least one familiar face in here, Joseph. I see you finally got married!"

He looked at his wedding band. "I did," he said, and left it at that. He and Javier were married in Costa Rica a few years ago. They'd been together ten. It took a while for some folks to accept their union, since Gloria had insisted Joseph not hide it. Today, however, he didn't feel like breaking it down to Sister Monroe or Johnnie Lee.

"You had any kids yet?"

"They're on the horizon."

"That's good," she said, and headed to Gloria's office. "Chile," she said without even thinking about knocking, "I need to give you a hug with all you been through. You know I loved me some Marvin and you have been in my prayers nightly, baby."

Gloria stood up and accepted her hug, all the time hoping Sister Monroe wouldn't be inclined to compare body notes. "It's so good to see you, too, Sister Monroe. You have certainly been missed around here. You were our live entertainment."

"I know you all had to miss me. I'm blessed and highly favored. I could feel your spirit all the way out there in the Mojave Desert. How you doing, baby? Hanging in there?"

"I'm hanging in there. You look fantastic. You truly do."

Sister Monroe tried and failed to blush. "I certainly try. I may not have but ten or twenty years left, but I'm going looking as foxy as I can. Lord willing." She decided not to bother telling Gloria her real name. It could wait. She turned and looked out at the salon. "I sure like what you've done to this new place. It's lively."

The walls were pale gray. The workstations were bold: chartreuse, cranberry and purple.

"Thanks. I was looking for a much bigger place so I could add a day spa, but a lot has changed. I'm not so sure now. I just have to see how it goes."

"Un-hun. The Lord doesn't give us more than we can handle. He will make a way when it feels like there is no way. Anyway, which one of them chil'ren is Joline?"