A Second Helping (6 page)

“Okay, but you sure you don't want to come?” Lily asked with concern. “Might take your mind off Leo.”

“No. I'll be okay. You go on.”

“Okay, I'll see you in about forty minutes then.”

Once Lily was gone, Bernadine mentally reviewed Leo's visit. Had he lost his damn mind? No way was she becoming his wife again. She'd give her millions away to a crackhead first. But, if she were being truthful, seeing him had brought back the memories of not only his perfidy but the good times they'd had as well. He'd been her first and only boyfriend. Growing up, Black women with her build and coloring were rarely termed beautiful, yet he'd made her feel that way by surprising her with flowers and sending her cards. He did his best to make sure she knew how much he cared and how special he considered her to be. Then he began moving up the corporate ladder, and the more money he made, the more distant he became. The marriage had already died for her a good four years before she busted him with his secretary. So why in the world would he think she'd take him back? He was an executive with one of the big oil companies and she wondered if he'd been sniffing petroleum fumes. That was the only rational explanation she could come up with. The more she thought about him and his outrageous proposal, the angrier she became.

When Malachi July appeared at her door a short time later, the hot look she lanced through him caused him to raise his hands in mock defense. “I'm bearing food. Lily sent me. Please don't kill me, oh great queen.”

She dropped her head and grinned. “I'm sorry. Come on in.”

He put the packaged salad on her desk. “Lily told me you had a visitor.”

“Lily's got a big mouth.”

“She's just worried about you.”

“I know. I wasn't serious. Sit, if you have time.”

He chose a chair and took her up on the offer. “I saw him earlier.” And he told her about the encounter with Leo at the Dog. “Lily said he wants you back?”

“Wanting and getting are two different universes.”

“Good to know. I'm having enough trouble without adding him in the mix.”

She smiled. “I'm not here for that, remember?”

“So you keep telling me. I'm patient though.”

The lure of him floated around her like wood smoke; fragrant, wistful. “Thanks for the salad.”

“I'm going to a picnic this Friday evening. Like to take you along as my guest.”

“Who else is going?”

“Nobody. Be just you and me.”

She chuckled. “It still gets cold in the evenings. We'll freeze.”

“That's why I'm throwing it in my truck.”

That left her speechless.

“So, do you want to go?”

“A picnic in a pickup truck?” she asked doubtfully.

“Sure, why not? Can't take you to the opera.”

He had to be the most amazing man she'd ever met, and much to her own surprise she replied, “Okay. I'll go.”

If he found her acceptance surprising, he hid it well. “Good. Pick you up Friday at seven. Your place.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Nope. Got everything covered. No fancy clothes though. This is a casual affair.”

“Gotcha.”

“Now, some even better news. I found a cook for the D&C.”

“Already?”

“Yep. Rocky's back and she's agreed to take the job.”

Bernadine wanted to shout with joy. “That is great news. When can she start?”

“In the morning.”

“Does she like the new place?”

“Yeah. She also had some good money-making ideas that should help get you out from under the gun. Would you be willing to meet with her?”

“Of course. I'm looking forward to it.”

“Thinking about making her manager. She's always run the place. May as well give her the title.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about the salary he'd decided upon, and some other items related to the diner, like ordering a few big-screen plasmas so patrons could watch sports.

Bernadine liked the idea. There was nothing better than watching football on a big screen with a bunch of friends. “Get a couple of estimates and give them to Lily.”

“Will do, and I'll let Rocky know you want to meet her.”

Their business now done, he got to his feet. “Feeling better?”

She nodded. “Yes. Thanks. And thanks for the salad and the picnic invite.”

“You're welcome. Just a few of the many services I provide.”

Their eyes met and held. Bernadine found herself wondering what it might be like to have him in her life as more than a friend.

“See you later,” he said softly.

“Bye, Mal.”

Alone again, Bernadine opened her salad. She did feel better but she wondered if she'd been sniffing petroleum fumes too. She couldn't believe she was going to a picnic in a pickup truck. Who'd ever heard of such a thing?

 

Sheila Payne fed the lunch dishes into the dishwasher and turned it on. Preston had taken off for the rec and Barrett was seated at the kitchen table leafing through the latest issue of
Leather Neck
magazine. The melancholy she'd brought back from Florida continued to ride her and she had no idea how to make it go away. When she looked up, his eyes were on her, so she turned back to the sink and used the paper towel in her hand to finish wiping down the counter. In as cheery a voice as she could muster, she said to him, “I'm going over to the rec center and see if Tamar or Ms. Agnes need help with the lunch cleanup.”

“Sheila, will you tell me what's wrong.”

“I'm fine, Barrett.”

“No, you aren't.”

She sighed and said again, “I'm fine.”

“I don't believe you. Was it the reunion? If you don't want to go next year, I'm okay with it.”

She looked away and gave a tiny shake of her head. He'd never been a man sensitive to her moods, so she doubted he really wanted to know. More than likely, what he did want was for whatever was bothering her to disappear so that he could go back to the even-keeled, regimented life he preferred. Having to constantly ask after her was not something he was accustomed to. Maybe she should just blurt it out. It would probably make her feel better, but at what cost? She hadn't been raised to be confrontational and she worried about the effects of such disclosure on their marriage and their future with Preston.

“You don't have a fatal disease, do you?”

She gave him a genuine smile this time. “No, Barrett. I'm not dying.”
Except maybe inside.

He continued to assess her and she continued to avoid his eyes. Finally, as if he'd had enough, he got to his feet and walked over to where she stood.

“Tell me. Whatever it is. Please?”

Sheila thought about all the strength she'd noticed in women like Bernadine, Lily, and Roni and decided that maybe time had come to find her own. “Seeing Marti at the reunion reminded me of your affair with her, and it broke my heart all over again.”

Her words seemed to rock him like a mortar blast. She actually thought he might fall over. “You wanted to know,” she reminded him quietly. “Any response?”

When he continued to stare, apparently speechless, she
offered up a bittersweet smile. “I thought not. I'm going to the center. I'll be back in time to fix dinner.”

Going to the closet to get her jacket, she could feel his eyes following her. She'd no idea whether they held anger, surprise, or remorse, because she didn't look back. Instead she put the jacket on and headed for the front door. He was still rooted in the kitchen when she left the house.

The rocked Barrett stood in the silence. He'd been so sure she hadn't known about his affair with Marti, yet there he stood. His heart was pounding and his body shook with both reaction and guilt.
She knew!
He had no idea what to do or say. Not that there was anything he could say to her; not after all these years. Having prided himself on being a man of honor, he was in reality an arrogant, hypocritical adulterer. Marti had been his only walk outside his marriage, but it didn't matter.
She knew!
Did she want a divorce? He prayed she didn't. Although their marriage lacked the fire and passion other married couples seemed to have, he and Sheila were comfortable with each other, or at least he thought they were. Now he wasn't sure how she felt, because over the years, he in his arrogance hadn't bothered to ask. He'd assumed she was content being his wife, but the earth-shattering revelation she'd dropped just now contradicted that.
Lord.
He ran his hands across his face. All his life he'd been a man of action, but now he didn't know what to do.

 

When Amari looked up from his ice cream and saw Preston enter the cafeteria, he asked his dad, “If the Paynes split up, can Preston come live with us?”

“Who said the Paynes are splitting up?”

But by then Preston was on them and pulling up a chair and Trent was left with a bunch of unasked questions.

“Hey Mr. July; hey Amari.” Preston saw the bowl of ice cream Amari was finishing. “Aw man, why didn't you call me to say you were getting ice cream?”

“Sorry. This was payment for helping Dad set up his new office.”

Trent asked, “Have you had lunch, Preston?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then just tell the ladies to get you a bowl. Have them put it on my tab.”

“Thanks!”

Trent rose to his feet. “Gotta get back to the office, guys. Drop by if you want to. See you later.”

Trent patted Amari on the shoulder and departed.

Amari and Preston ate their ice cream but didn't talk much.

The place had gotten pretty crowded with locals and the men and women working the construction sites. They saw Mrs. Payne come in. She gave them a wave and disappeared in the kitchen.

Before Amari could comment, they heard, “When you two young men get done, I need you to start wiping down some of the empty tables, and take the trash to the Dumpster.”

Both looked up at Tamar and replied in unison. “Yes, ma'am.”

Once she moved away, Amari said, “Man. I can't wait until school starts back next week.”

“Me too, so she can work somebody else to death.”

After wiping down the tables and hauling the large garbage bags out to the big Dumpsters behind the building, they earned Tamar's thanks and made their escape.

They went outside in the chilly sunshine and sat on one of the picnic tables near the track. They were dressed for the weather in jackets with hoodies underneath, so the temperature wasn't an issue.

“Did Mrs. Payne look like she'd been crying when she came in?” Preston asked.

Amari nodded. “Yeah, she did.”

“Reason one hundred and eighty-five why I hate the foster care system.”

“What do you mean?”

“If the Paynes split up, I'm gone. The state will make me move to another home.”

“Probably not. You're family, Brain. If the Paynes split up, Ms. Bernadine will figure out a way for you to stay here. Guaranteed.”

“I don't know, man. I told Crystal—”

Amari's head spun sharply. “You talked to Crystal? About what?”

“What's been going on, and how I feel about it.”

“You talked to her about your feelings? Are you on crack?”

Preston shrugged. “It was okay.”

“Until she puts your business on YouTube.”

“She promised not to tell Ms. Bernadine or anybody else what we talked about.”

Amari was shaking his head. “Crystal is okay, but only up to a point. I didn't mind stealing O.G.'s truck for her last
summer because she needed the help, but
I'd
have to be on crack before I told her anything personal.”

“Well, talking to her made me feel better.”

“Are you sure this was our Crystal? Blond weave? Lots of attitude?”

Preston grinned. “Same one.”

“You're much braver than me, my man. Much braver.” Amari let go of the humor and his manner turned serious. “You really that worried about this thing with the Paynes?”

“Yeah. It's my own fault though. It's what I get for thinking they'd be the ones to keep me forever.”

“Hope can kill you.”

“Got that right.”

“Me, I'm stepping up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told Tamar and my dad that I want to be a full member of the family.”

“What? Now who's lost his mind? Amari, we're foster kids. You know better than that. What did they say?”

“Dad was cool. Tamar said yes, almost.”

“Almost?”

“I have to do something called a Spirit Quest.”

“Like the kind the tribes took back in the day with the hallucinogenics?”

“The what?”

“The Native American version of what folks today call acid?”

Amari's eyes popped. “Acid? She didn't say anything about doing drugs!”

“That's just one way of going about it. I'm sure she's not going to make you do drugs. Least I hope not.”

“You're scaring me, man.”

“Sorry. So what did she say you had to do?”

“Get a hatchet and a tent, and that she's going to be the one doing the whole thing with me.”

Preston asked doubtfully, “You sure being a July is going to be worth all this?”

“There's more. After I finish the spirit part, she wants me to do something to honor the town and the Dusters. She called it a project.”

“Like in school?”

“Same thing I asked.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“No shit.” Amari sighed, then lay back on the table's top and looked up at the blue sky. “But Trent's the kind of dad kids like us always dream about.”

“Wish I'd gotten him, although the colonel's not too bad for a military hard-ass. Sometimes.”