A Second Helping (5 page)

Trent had no idea that adding an eleven-year-old car thief to one's world could make life so sweet. “So what did Tamar say?”

“A bunch of stuff about a Spirit Quest. Do you have a hatchet?”

“Yep. Tent too.”

“Good,” he replied with relief in his voice. “Can you show me how to put up the tent?”

“Yes.” Trent was still stuck on this remarkable young man wanting to be his son. “Did she say when you were going to do this?”

“No.”

“Okay. We can ask her. She taking you?”

“Uh huh. She said you had a town to run and that the O.G. would spend the whole time talking about the honeys, so she'd go with me instead.”

Trent knew that he was busy, but he would've taken the time off to do the quest. In fact, by all rights he should have been the one, but since she'd already staked her claim, he decided to let it go; he'd have a lifetime to bond with Amari, and besides, he loved Tamar too much to spend even a moment being mad at her. She was in the winter of her life and there was no telling how much longer she would be with them before leaving this plane to join the Ancestors.

“So you really want to be my son, even though I'm not going to let you get away with stuff like stealing cars or running game?”

That last part made Amari think back to the unique punishment he'd earned last summer for tricking Ms. Agnes into buying him and Preston adult-rated video games. “Yes.”

“It's not always going to be fun being dad and son. Some days you're going to want to throw me under a combine.”

“I know.”

“And I'm going to push you hard to do your best in school. No getting around that either.”

“I understand.”

“With all that in mind, I'm going to ask you one more time. Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Then come here.” Trent stood and held out his arms.

Amari closed the space between them and let himself be enfolded in the strong embrace of the man he very much wanted to grow up to be just like.

Above him, Trent held on tight and mentally prayed for all the blessings his son deserved after the life he'd been forced to lead since becoming a ward of the state. “You do your part and I'll do mine. We're both going to screw up from time to time, but that's okay.”

Amari's chest got tight and his eyes began to burn. “Okay.”

They stepped apart.

Trent held out his hand, and when Amari grasped it, Trent said, “I, Trenton July, take you, Amari July, as my
son. In sickness and in health. In craziness and crisis. To love and guide, until we leave this life.”

Amari replied solemnly, “I, Amari July, take you, Trent July, as my one and only dad. In health, and when you get old, to love and be guided by you, even when I want to throw you under a combine, until we leave this life.”

As Amari looked up at Trent with that patented grin, all Trent could think was:
Now take that, Tamar
, but aloud he said, “I think this calls for ice cream. How about we sneak out and go to the rec and see if we can find some in the freezer.”

“Good idea, and Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Oh. Do I still have to do the Spirit Quest thing?”

“Yep.”

Amari sighed.

Trent grinned. “Sorry. It's tradition.”

“Okay.”

So they left the office and headed off to celebrate their new union with all the ice cream they could eat.

 

Over at Bernadine's house, Crystal stood on the porch and stared across the street at Preston seated on the steps of the Payne house. He looked dejected. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed to be staring at something only he could see. Interesting, she thought, and debated what she should do. The old Crystal would've shown him her hand and flounced back down on the porch's sofa to continue
reading
Architectural Digest
, but she'd matured a lot in the last nine months, and by Henry Adams standards Preston was family. As the oldest kid it was her responsibility to play big sister so she left her porch to check him out.

“You okay, Brain?” He'd earned the nickname at school. The boy was scary smart. Even their teacher Ms. Marie thought so.

“Yeah.”

Crystal didn't believe him so she folded her arms and waited for him to tell her the truth.

Her stance garnered a small smile and a shrug. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if he was weighing what to say. Finally he asked, “Is Ms. Bernadine home?”

“No, she's at the Power Plant.”

“Then let's talk on your porch.”

She nodded.

“Let me tell Mrs. Payne where I'm going. Be right back.”

He went inside, and after his return they crossed the street.

They took seats, Crystal on the sofa, and he chose one of the chairs.

“So what's up?” she asked him.

He looked off into the distance for a quiet moment. “I think I'm going to be leaving.”

That was so
not
what she wanted to hear. “Look. We all know what happened when I tried to run away.”

“No, not like that. I think the Paynes aren't getting along and if they split up, we all know where that leaves me.”

Crystal frowned. “What makes you think they're about to split?”

“She's real sad. It started at that stupid reunion the colonel dragged us to.” Upon seeing the confusion on Crystal's face, he told her the same story he'd related to Amari the night at Tamar's.

When he finished, she asked, “You really think this woman was somebody the colonel used to kick it with?”

“The way she was acting? Big time.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly.”

They both went silent for a few moments and then Crystal said, “Maybe they'll work it out.”

He responded with a small shake of his head and then looked over into her eyes. “This is the first family I really wanted to hook up with. After a thousand wack foster placements, I'd started to hope. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” Crystal knew exactly what he meant. She'd had the same sort of hope about her mom. It hadn't worked out.

Preston said, “So, that's what's going on with me.”

“That's rough.”

“As Amari says, ‘No shit.'”

“Maybe Ms. Bernadine can help.”

He shook his head. “No. Don't say anything to her, please. Let's just keep this between me, you, and Amari. Okay?”

Against her better, fifteen-year-old judgment, Crystal acquiesced. “Okay, I won't tell her. Promise.”

“Thanks.”

He stared off again and Crystal said quietly, “Brain?”

“Yeah?”

“It's gonna work out.”

He nodded glumly, then stood. “I'm going home, get something to eat, and then run down Amari.” Before leaving, however, he said sincerely, “Thanks for listening, Crystal.”

“You're welcome. Just don't make it a habit.”

Grinning, he headed home.

Crys watched him go.
Trouble in paradise.
She hated lying to Preston, but she planned to tell Ms. Bernadine about the Paynes just as soon as she came home because although she'd never tell him, Crystal was worried about him.

 

Having no idea what Crystal had in store, Bernadine concentrated on getting through the rest of the morning's tasks. She put in a call to Florene's professor, only to be told by the secretary that Malachi had contacted the office earlier. The résumés of potential replacements had been e-mailed to him an hour ago. A pleased Bernadine thanked the woman and ended the call. Crossing the D&C off her list, she turned back to her computer screen.

A few minutes later a knock on her open office door sounded. She looked up and saw Roni Garland.

“Got a minute?”

“As many as you need. Come on in. You want coffee?”

She shook her head. “Already had my morning three. Catch me around four this afternoon.”

Bernadine truly enjoyed Roni's wit. “What can I do for you?”

“Haven't had a chance to tell you yet but we were mailed
the last of the paperwork for Zoey's adoption. Once we send it back, the court says it shouldn't take long.”

“Good. You all have been perfect for her.” The Garlands had first broached the subject about making Zoey legally theirs this past Christmas.

“It's been mutual. She's the reason I'm singing again.”

Bernadine nodded. A few years ago, the estranged husband of one of Roni's backup singers had gone berserk with an automatic rifle during a concert. Roni left the blood-soaked stage that night and never sang again, until last summer. Now, to the delight of her fans like Bernadine, the multi Grammy Award–winning vocalist was presently hard at work on a new CD. “So how'd the recording session go while you all were in New York?”

“Laid a few tracks that I'm pleased with, but I spent most of the time taking the kids sightseeing. You should have seen their faces when they saw the Statue of Liberty.” She laughed. “What was even better was the face of a man standing beside us when I started explaining to them that the statue was built in France and originally meant as an anti-slavery symbol. He almost choked to death.”

Bernadine grinned. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Yeah. Tried to argue with me. Told me I was telling the kids lies. I told him to look it up. Then I gave him my producer's address so he'd know where to send me an apology.”

Bernadine's shoulders shook with laughter. “You are something else.”

“Best way to be. Anyway, back to the CD. I'll be flying back and forth to New York until we get it done, so the
sooner we build the studio I want here, the better. I already know I'm not going to like missing Zoey.”

The town's construction crew was hoping to make the recording studio a reality by midsummer. It and the other projects on Bernadine's build list for the year would begin in earnest just as soon as spring finished wrestling the weather away from Old Man Winter. Also due for construction this year was the health clinic Roni's husband, Reggie, wanted to open. Presently there were no doctors practicing in Henry Adams and his expertise was sorely needed. “Tell your hubby I need his wish list for the clinic by next week so that he and I can sit down with the architect.”

“Will do. You know, after all the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple it's really really quiet here, and the silence feels good. Never thought I'd miss being in a teeny tiny place out in the middle of nowhere, but?” She shrugged.

“I'm glad to be home too. Missed this place a lot.”

Roni stood. “Okay, Boss Lady, I'm going to head out so that you can keep turning the world. Take a breath every now and then, would you?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Roni made her exit.

Bernadine went back to work.

O
ver at the Dog and Cow, Malachi was in his office taking another look at the résumés sent by the culinary college's secretary. Call him sexist, but he had no intentions of hiring another female. If Florene had been the pick of the female litter he wanted nothing to do with the runts. A few of the résumés had looked interesting. He picked up the phone on his desk and began to dial the first candidate's number when he heard, “Hey Mal.”

The sight of Rocky Dancer standing in the doorway almost gave him a heart attack. “Oh my goodness!”

He jumped up and rushed over to give her a big hug.

She reciprocated, laughing, “Hey. Watch the back. Watch the back. I may need that spine.”

He stepped away with a grin on his face. “You visiting, or back for good?”

She shrugged. “For good, looks like. Unless a better offer comes along.”

“Your job's open if you want it.”

“I think I do. Love what you've done with the place.”

“Hallelujah!” And he hugged her again.

“Things been that bad?” she asked, laughing again.

“You just don't know. Have a seat and let me tell you a story.”

So she did and he filled her in on everything from Bernadine Brown to Riley and Cletus to Florene.

“Lots been happening. How's Trent? Got a call from him but I was on my way here and didn't want to spoil the surprise by calling back and telling him I was coming.”

“Could've knocked me over with a feather, seeing you standing there. Trent's fine. Lily's back.”

She stilled. “Fabulous Fontaine? Why?”

Mal explained Lily's return to town and her role in the new and improved Henry Adams.

“So are she and Trent back together?”

He nodded.

“Not going to lie and say I'm happy for him. Never did like Fontaine, but hey, who am I to judge. He didn't mind me getting married, so I guess I can be nice.”

“Good. Lily's done a lot of good here.” He could tell by her cool eyes that she had issues with Lily being in Trent's life again, but he hoped her good side would eventually prevail over any jealously she might be harboring. “So, your marriage to Bob didn't work out?”

“Nope. When you walk in and find your husband wearing your underwear, it's time to go.”

Mal's mouth dropped.

“I guess Trent didn't tell you.”

“No,” he replied in a voice filled with wonder.

“Well, now you know. So, if I'm coming back to work here, how about a tour?”

Mal was still stuck on the visual of her ex wearing her underwear and decided a tour might be just the thing to clear his boggled mind.

They spent the next little while walking around the D&C. She checked out the freezers, all the new appliances, and the new setup. “This place is sharp, Mal. You did a great job.”

“It's all on Bernadine. She's responsible. Without her help, this place would still be a dive.”

“It wasn't that bad.”

“Yeah it was. So, when do you want to start?”

“In the morning, I guess.”

“Then welcome back, Ms. Dancer. Place is all yours.”

They went back to the office to discuss salary and vision.

Rocky said, “You know, if you want this place to eventually pay its own bills, how about we add a couple of big screens, do some theme nights—that sort of thing.”

“I'm all for it, as long as we don't serve alcohol.”

“I'm okay with that.”

“Good, because I don't want anyone leaving my place and killing somebody on the way home. The only saving grace about my drunk years was that I never killed anybody.”

They continued talking about their plans for the D&C but were interrupted by Clay standing in the doorway.

“Rocky! Is that you?”

She grinned. “It's me.”

“Get over here,” he said with a grin.

Hugs were exchanged, and Clay said, “Good to see you. I hope you're coming back to work here.”

“That I am.”

“Thank goodness. Now we can have food we can eat and recognize.”

She chuckled.

Then he said, “Almost forgot what brought me in here. What's the deal on the limo out front?”

“What limo?”

“Come see for yourself.”

A curious Mal and Rocky followed him out of the office.

Sure enough, parked outside was a gleaming black limousine. The tint on the car's windows prevented them from seeing whoever was inside.

Clay asked, “Who do you think it is?”

“No clue,” Mal replied truthfully. “One of Bernadine's peeps, maybe? Music friend of Roni's?”

The driver got out first. Tall and White, he was wearing a crisp black uniform, complete with hat. He smoothly opened the passenger door, and out stepped a well-dressed Black man who appeared to be in his late fifties, early sixties. They watched as the stranger took a moment to look up and down the street. Considering the diner was the only building at this end of town, there wasn't much to see, but he seemed satisfied. After sharing a few words with the driver, he walked to the diner's entrance.

Once inside, he glanced around at the red and chrome interior and appeared impressed. Upon noticing Mal, Clay, and the lovely Rocky standing in the empty dining room, he came forward, smiling. “Morning. Can you tell me where I can find Bernadine Brown? Hope I'm in the right town.” He directed a big grin Rocky's way, but was promptly ignored.

Mal checked him out. From his blue pin-striped suit and gold silk tie, to the handmade brown leather shoes, he stank of money. “And you are?”

“Not that it's any of your business, but the name's Leo. Leo Brown.”

The ex.
“Welcome to Henry Adams. Heard about you.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “Bernie telling tales out of school?”

“No. Just the truth.”

His jaw tightened. “Just tell me where she is.”

“Power Plant. Turn around, go back up the road. Circular building. Brick red. Can't miss it.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled, and strode out back to his ride.

“Wonder what he wants with Bernadine?” Clay asked.

Mal shrugged.

“You jealous?”

“You want the truth or the lie?”

The two old friends smiled.

Rocky said with surprise, “You didn't tell me you were hitting on Ms. Brown.”

Clay said, “That's because he's batting a big fat zero. If he was a baseball player he'd be in the minors.”

Mal lowered his head to hide his grin.

Rocky walked over and wrapped an arm around each of the waists. “You know, I really missed you two old players while I was gone.”

“We missed you too,” Mal said.

They each gave her a kiss on her cheek.

“Welcome back,” Clay said. “Good to have you home.”

And she replied, “As Dorothy said when she and Toto finally got back to Kansas. No place like it.”

 

At the Power Plant, when Lily's voice came over the office intercom to announce the arrival of Leo Brown, Bernadine sat straight up in her chair. “
What!
”

Realizing he'd probably heard her response, Bernadine calmed herself, took in a breath, and replied as pleasantly as she could. “Let me finish this call,” she lied. “I'll let you know when I'm done.”

“Okay.”

Before Bernadine could stop it, the memory of that day in his office flared to life and she was angry, hurt, and humiliated all over again. What in the world was he doing in Henry Adams! They hadn't spoken since the divorce. Was he dying? In trouble? She'd have to let him in before she could get answers, and lord knew she didn't want to. Running him over with Baby would be better, but she drew in another breath, and hit the intercom button again. “Send him in, please, Ms. Fontaine.”

“Yes, Ms. Brown.”

A few short seconds later, the man she'd fallen in love with at age nineteen and who'd broken her heart beyond repair at age fifty-two stood in her doorway. “Leo,” she said, coolly, “how are you?” She didn't like him well enough to stand up and give him a proper greeting, but she did gesture for him to take a seat.

“Doing okay, Bern. Even better now that I see your face.”

She gave him a fake smile. She'd always detested being called Bern but he'd insisted on using the masculine-
sounding nickname anyway. “What can I do for you?”

“Just stopped by to see you. Been keeping up with you and your town through CNN and the Internet.”

“You flew all the way here just to stop by?”

“Uh, no. I'm staying just outside Franklin consulting on a project for the company. And since I'll be here for a while, thought I'd drive over and see how you are.”

“That's nice,” she lied. “As you can see, I'm doing well. Town's keeping me busy, but it goes with the territory. How's the wife? You'll have to forgive me for not knowing her name.”

“No problem. I'm divorced. Again.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Another lie. “Was this number two or three? I haven't been keeping up.”

“Three. Kiara's her name.”

“Ah.” He'd always been a sharp dresser, but he'd put on some weight since she saw him last and the buttons on his silk coat were straining a bit. Possibly a result of having to eat all those Happy Meals his young wives probably preferred.
Stop it, Bernadine
.

“You think we could get some dinner sometime while I'm here?”

She didn't hesitate. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Bern.”

“No, Leo. Why would I want to do anything with you?”

“You always were hard on a brother.”

“Only when deserved.”

“Can we at least be friends?”

“Why?” she asked, taken aback at the outrageous proposal.

He shrugged. “Because we shared a lot of good years before…”

“Before you lost your mind, you mean?” she countered bitterly.

He had the decency to look embarrassed.

“You cheated on me, Leo. Me.”
The one who really loved you,
she said inwardly, and thought about the old Mary Wells tune with that same title. “We're divorced. You made that happen, remember?”

He met her eyes. “I do, and I'd like to make it up to you if I could.”

She shook her head. “You can't, and I won't apologize for how I feel.”

“I understand, but I am sorry.”

“So am I, Leo.”

“Can I be frank?”

“Sure.”

“I want you back.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you back. Cheating on you was the biggest mistake of my life. I realize that now.”

“This wouldn't have anything to do with your latest PYT leaving you for a pool boy, would it?”

He went stock-still.

“I lied, Leo. I do keep up. It's in my best interest to do so.” She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “I also learned, belatedly, that you had a bunch of millions stashed offshore that you hid from my lawyers.”

He took out a handkerchief and mopped at his suddenly damp brow. His hairline had marched back a few inches
too since the divorce. “Look. I'm not going to lie. I treated you bad, and yes, Kiara left me, but I've been wanting you back for a long time.”

She didn't believe that for a minute but she let him have the floor.

“I'm lonely, Bernadine. There, I admit it. You're the only woman who ever loved me for me.”

“And you threw it in the trash,” she reminded him softly.

He looked away for a long moment. “What if I promise it won't happen again?”

“Leo, you can promise to turn into Little Richard and it still won't matter. I'm not coming back. So unless you have some legitimate business to discuss, we're done here.”

He sighed audibly. “What if I tell you I'm not giving up?”

“On what?”

He got to his feet. “On you, me. Us. I didn't get to be who I am by taking no for an answer.”

“Did you hear me the first time?”

“I did, but we had a good marriage and we can have it again.”

“If you come near me talking this nonsense again, I will slap you with a restraining order so hard, they'll feel it on Jupiter.”

“I don't care. Not giving up. See you.” He headed to the door.

“Leo!” she called angrily. “Leo!”

But he was gone.

She cursed.

Lily came in. “What's wrong?”

“I'm divorced from a crazy man, that's what's wrong.”

In response to Lily's confusion Bernadine told her the story, and when she finished all Lily could say was “Wow.”

Bernadine shook her head. “Why can't he go on with his life and let me do the same?”

“Because he doesn't have one?”

“Good answer.”

“You know,” Lily began, “if this were anyone else, I'd think it was kind of romantic, him wanting you back.”

Bernadine speared her with a look.

“I said, if it was someone else. Remember I was the one who threw Winston's suitcases into the street when he tried to get me to move back to Atlanta.” Winston was her old boyfriend and she'd wanted to choke him when they finally broke up.

“Leo's got a better chance of marrying George Bush than getting back with me.”

“I hear you.”

Lily studied the quiet anger in Bernadine's face. “It's lunchtime. Put the world down and let's go see what Tamar and Agnes are serving today.”

Tamar and the seniors ran a small lunch operation out of the rec center's kitchen. The menu was limited to pre-packaged salads, sandwiches, and a soup of the day. All proceeds went into the center's general fund.

“You go on ahead. I'm not really hungry.”

“You sure? Want me to bring you something back?”

“Yeah. A salad might be nice. I'll stash it in the fridge for later.”