"Girl Groups for two hundred."

"This Motown girl group began as backup singers and had fifteen consecutive hits in ten years."

"It's the Supremes!" Cha Cha suddenly yelled at the little TV on the kitchen counter, making me almost lose my cornbread.

"Who is..." the contestant hesitated on screen.

"It's the Supremes!" Cha Cha called out again, more desperate this time, looking positively perplexed.

"Ooh, sorry. Out of time. That would be, 'who are the Supremes.'"

"Jerk!" She cursed at the man on the TV.

My eyebrows were up as I got a better grip on my cornbread. I took a bite, and then drew back. Whoa. "Miss Cha Cha, this has got to be the best cornbread I've ever had. In fact, I didn't know cornbread could be this moist and sweet?" I rolled it around in my mouth, savoring it. It was almost dewy with flavor.

"Yes, I used some honey in it. I was taught that." A small smile spread on her face as she glanced at the TV and then at me.

"Really? Who said to do that?" I took another bite. God, it really was so good. How was she doing that? Just how much honey was in this?

"Genesis said so. He cooked a lot of southern things. He taught me a lot of things about cooking. We kind of traded. I taught him Colombian food and he taught me a lot of southern recipes."

"Who's Genesis?"

She looked very pleased now, no longer glancing at the TV. "Genesis is the man who saved my life."

My eye widened. "What do you mean?"

"He taught me about transgender things. How to do it and stuff, transitioning. He was so intimate about it. Without him, I don't know how I would have...hmm." Her words were so warm, but she trailed off, seeming to be thinking to herself. Was it okay to inquire more? I was so curious. Who was this 'Genesis' she was speaking of, really? Who was he to her?

"How did you know hi-"

Ring, ring, ring!

"Oh, my cellphone!" she gasped, jumping up from the table. Her bunny heels clacked on the tile in hurrying ticks as she rushed to her yellow purse. "Sorry," she said quickly to me, rifling through things in there to get it.

"It's okay," I answered back. In the suddenness of the moment I didn't know where to look.

Her cellphone beeped and I decided to tuck into my potatoes. I popped a forkful into my mouth and my eyes just about rolled backwards into my head. What had met my mouth was better than KFC mashed potatoes on steroids. The smoothest, creamiest, moistest potatoes and their buttery flavor mixed with gravy that was just the right amount of salt and weight, not drowning but absolutely perfect. I wondered if it was another Genesis recipe. If it was, thank god for Genesis. Bless him. I took another heavenly mouthful.

"Hello? Yes? This is she. What? What do you mean? Slow down, please, my English... What? Oh, no, I understood, I meant...yes... What do you mean 'she won't calm down'? She's doing what...? Oh dio- yes! Yes, I'll come right there right now! Good-bye!" The cellphone beeped and I was watching Miss Cha Cha wide eyed again. It couldn't be.

"Who was that?" I was scared to ask, still holding onto my fork, but I already knew the answer. Dread filled my tummy where the best pleasure had just been, inconceivably.

"Hospital. It's Georgina. She's- they think she's okay, but she's freaking out about something and won't calm down, crying and hysterical. They can't make out what she's saying, but her nurse knows I know what she says a lot, so they called me. They want me to come in and try to calm her. So I have to- come with me...? Another pair of ears is better than-" she'd started to wander while saying this too fast, putting on things. She cut off as she disappeared into her room. She hopped back into the kitchen after a few minutes, trying her best to slip on some bleach white canvas sneakers, the first time I'd ever seen her in anything but heels.

It was taking me a bit to register what she had said. Did she mean for me...to go with her?

"You can wear my rain jacket- no, coat. Rain coat. Podría ser grande, pero usted no tiene rain coat. It raining out." She held out a shiny white rain coat with light green flowery designs on it to me. It was a flattering trench style, flared at the natural waist for a womanly shape. I took it, still in shock from what was happening.

Oh my god, I was about to see Georgina in the hospital, see her now that she was under what the stroke had done to her. I wasn't sure if I was prepared or even believed it yet. And now, we were going to see her...

"Here, Ambrose mary janes. You like." She was speaking very rapidly, not caring about lapsing from Spanish to broken English, her eyes in a panic. I took Ambrose's mary janes from her and plopped them on the floor, slipping them on with fumbling fingers. I heard jangling ringing and looked up. She was deep in her purse, and I saw the top of her brightly decorated key ring with her car keys on it for a second before I went back to trying to buckle the suddenly reluctant straps.

Finally, I got them as Miss Cha Cha, dressed in a long red corduroy coat, put her hand on the front door's knob. I jumped up and trailed behind her while slinging on the coat that was indeed too big for me as she had warned it would be, forgetting my purse in the process but it didn't matter.

I took in a long, hesitant breath on the pathway to the car, trying to prepare myself for what I might see in the hospital. It was shaking.

"Visiting hours are closed. They're from four to seven."

"Please, you don't understand. I was called. Call the ninth floor. Please, they're expecting me."

"You have to come back tomorrow."

I couldn't stand it. The person at the desk was talking to Miss Cha Cha like she was a simpleton, repeating the same thing over and over like she was an annoyed broken record for over fifteen minutes. Miss Cha Cha was getting more antsy by the second, starting to pace back and forth a little bit. I thought she was about to lose it, the anguish was all over her face.

So I took action, not able to take it anymore. I rushed the desk and the lady's eyes took on a fright. "We're not visitors! Derek, a nurse from the ninth floor, CALLED US TO COME IN. CALL THE NINTH FLOOR!"

Without another word, the nurse picked up the sandy colored phone and pressed buttons. I was breathing hard. How dare she treat Miss Cha Cha like that? What was it? Was she treating her like that because of her accent? Because of her skin? What was her damn problem?!

"What is your name?" she asked, looking at Miss Cha Cha with those same eyes.

"Valentine Cruz. They know me. I'm there every day."

The woman spoke quietly on the phone for a minute, and then pressed a button. The double doors to her left clicked, indicating a lock had been undone. "You know the way?" she asked.

"Yes, she knows the way. She just told you she's here every day!"

"Mm," Miss Cha Cha said to me, taking my wrist and leading me through the doors. I followed her pulling. We walked along the corridor at a hurried pace.

"Muchas gracias," she said, pressing the elevator button. I heard her canvas sneaker clicking on the hospital tile impatiently as we waited.

"No, I couldn't stand how that lady was treating you! I wonder if she's new? How can she treat you like that? Doesn't she know how to do her job? What is her-"

"No, I've dealt with her before."

"Huh?" I turned to her. What did she mean? "But that lady was acting like she'd never seen you before. If she's seen you before-"

"I wonder if you noticed the little cross around her neck."

The elevator doors opened and I watched her step on. The doors were closing before I realized I had to get in, too. I was so dumbfounded at what she had said I was temporarily stunned.

Miss Cha Cha was smiling serenely a little bit at the very corners of her mouth, the reflective walls giving me this smile over and over at different angles. How could she be smiling? The elevator went up, the floor numbers above the door shining like stars counting off.

"Earlier, you asked how did I know Genesis, did you?" she asked mysteriously.

"Yeah." I didn't know what she was getting at, still thinking about that lady downstairs.

"Well, he taught me tolerance. How a true Christian knows tolerance of all god's creatures. So if that lady isn't tolerant, she's not a true Christian. He taught me that, too."

"Huh? What do you mean?" I turned to her, staring at her and not a reflection. She looked reflective anyway, thinking. Her voice came wandering, seeming to be in deep thought.

"Genesis was my teacher, my friend. My mentor. He was my drag auntie, too. And above all things, he was a Christian. A preacher, in fact. He still runs his own church group in Philadelphia to this day, I know it."

If I wasn't dumbfounded before, I was now. What was she saying? "How can he be a drag queen if he's a Christian? What- I don't understand."

"Just because he was gay and a drag queen didn't mean he had to give up his faith. You can be anything you want to be, god loves all his children regardless. He taught me that, too. That's how he saved my life. So I can be tolerant of that lady. I can forgive her, too, even if she doesn't tolerate me. I can be anything I want to be, so I'll be tolerant, too."

The light lit up the number nine and made a chime. She looked towards the front, her face becoming all business. The conversation was over. I was speechless, in complete confused shock.

As soon as the doors opened, we could hear her. My eyes zeroed in to a room at the end of the hall with people around the doorway, staring in, standing along the wall looking harried. A stocky, dark haired guy in light blue scrubs was one of the ones standing along the wall. He looked very worried.

I'd recognized Georgina's voice instantly, but it wasn't one I'd ever heard. Chills went up my veins.

"No, no, no! NO!" Crying screams, like a scared child. It reminded me of the screaming children I'd heard on the train, on the bus, everywhere. I lost my ability to walk, becoming like a scared child myself. Was this what the stroke had done to her? Made her like a child?

Luckily, Miss Cha Cha took my wrist again, yanking me into motion unintentionally. "There's Derek!" she breathed quickly, rushing forward towards the room.

The objections in the voice that sounded eerily like Georgina's turned to a long wailing, crying like a baby, getting louder as we neared the room. The dark haired man saw us, and sprinted towards us, meeting us.

"Thank god," he breathed out.

God again.

"She's been crying for an hour. She's been saying the same things, but nobody understands it. Does she speak another language, maybe? I'm so sorry you had to come in."

"It's okay, I'm glad you called. I want to help. Oh, this is Ruiz. I thought it would be good to bring her, since she knows her really well, too." Walking and talking. I waved at him nervously. "And yes, she does speak another language. She's fluent in Italian," Miss Cha Cha went on.

"I'm fluent in Italian, too. I grew up in Italy. I don't think that's an Italian word," Derek said, his face taking on devastation.

"Word? What is the word?"

But Derek didn't have to answer because we heard it.

"Fanky...fanky...no...noooo..."

The immediate look of grief that fell over Miss Cha Cha's face made me want to dissolve into tears like a child myself. It reminded me of the exact tone of voice she used when she cried at night.

"No, that's not a word," she sighed, heavy with her grief.

"What is it?" Derek asked. He seemed like he truly cared.

"That's her husband's name. She's crying because her husband was murdered."

My breath caught.

She paused, staring at the floor. Derek didn't seem to know what to say, his face devastated further. "Um, Ruiz." She turned to me and I looked up at her, my breath returning hard. I didn't know what to do.

"Yes?" I answered, curling my fingers and uncurling them, wanting to fumble with the coat I was wearing but daring not to since the coat was hers.

"Here. Go get some strawberry milk from wherever you get it. I've seen you with it before. Take my car." She started fumbling around in her purse, and I could hear her key ring jingling already.

"Um, but...Miss Cha Cha, I don't drive. Ambrose drives..." Ambrose...my breath hitched again at the thought of him. If he were here instead of at that stupid party...

"Oh. Well. Okay. You stay here then. Where is it that you get the milk?" Her keys swung out of her bag.

"Gold-"

"There's strawberry milk in the cafeteria. I'll go get some. Will it help?" Derek interrupted.

"Dios mio. Yes, please get it. It reminds her of him, calms her down. I'm going to go talk to her, okay? Ruiz, stay out here. I'm sorry."

I was deeply ashamed of the relief I felt at her last words. I nodded solemnly.

As Derek led me to a chair at the nurse's station, I watched Miss Cha Cha go into the room. The crying from within turned into another long mournful wail, rising and falling like a rolling wave. But with the context given now, I couldn't help but choke up as the true reality of that wailing voice struck me. The meaning, the reason.

Oh god, Georgina... I couldn't even imagine that kind of pain.