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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

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BOOK: A Second Helping
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“Don't mean to get in your business but just wanted to know.”

“Satisfied?”

“Yes, sir. Going up to my room.”

“Okay. Lights out by ten, and no texting. I get a bill like I got last month and you and Preston will be using carrier pigeons.”

“Yes, sir.”

After his departure Trent got comfortable and thought about the Paynes. Were they really having issues? He didn't know much about their marriage, but looking at it from the outside, things seemed to be okay. Preston seemed to think otherwise. Trent hoped that whatever was happening next door, they took Preston's future into consideration. The young man had been moved around enough.

As the game came on, he thought back on the day. It began with Amari's questions about him and Lily and ended with questions about him and Rocky. The boy made him tired. Trent was glad to have Rocky back in town, though.
Now folks could get some decent food at the D&C. He and Rock had had a unique relationship, but the intimate part ended when she married Bob. During the time she was on the East Coast, she and Trent had talked fairly regularly but they'd never discussed anything remotely flirtatious or sexual. With Bob, she'd hoped to find the true love she'd always wanted but instead wound up with a man who liked wearing her underwear. He shook his head with amusement at that. Maybe life would give her another shot. She was a very special lady and she deserved finding the happiness he'd found the second time around with Lily.

 

Later that night, Sheila Payne lay in bed in the guest room surrounded by the darkness. The melancholy mood had her in its grip again and she was at a loss as to how to fix herself, still. She'd noticed the concern in Preston's eyes when he came home from hanging out with Trent and Amari and she'd wanted to reassure him, but she didn't know what to say. Instead she'd given him a good-night hug, and he'd gone up to his room. Sheila didn't want the wake of her inner turmoil affecting him, but there was no way it wouldn't if she couldn't put herself back together.
Maybe I need to go away for a while.
But that would affect Preston too and she didn't want to jeopardize his status and possibly be the cause of him having to be sent to another home. That would hurt. She'd come to view him as her son and she wanted to be there for him and with him as he grew up and claimed his place in the world. That joy would be denied them both if they were no longer family.

Her thoughts slowly moved to Barrett. In her heart, she
didn't want to divorce him. Admittedly, knocking him off his high horse even if only temporarily felt good. Earlier, when she returned home to fix dinner, he'd had very little to say but spent the entire meal and the remainder of the evening quietly watching her as if searching for something; what, she wasn't sure—a way to apologize, a way to make things better. If he wanted to talk she was open, but it came to her suddenly that seeing Marti again, as painful and as maddening as it had been, constituted only a portion of the problem. And it was a large portion, but the bulk of what was going inside had to be laid in Sheila's own lap. She mulled that over for a few moments and began to sense the rightness in her conclusion. All the brooding she'd been doing for the past few days had her looking back at her life, and in that rearview mirror she saw a woman who'd been about service to everybody and everything except herself. She readily admitted that she had no idea who Sheila Payne was or what she stood for.

Something inside wanted to find out, however. She'd made Barrett move to Henry Adams so they could become foster parents in hopes of changing a life. Little did she know that the life needing change might be her own. Certain now that she'd finally gotten to the core of her ennui, she felt herself physically and mentally relax. Deciding she'd talk to Bernadine about all this in the morning, she closed her eyes, and for the first night in nearly a week, she slipped peacefully into sleep.

 

Ray Chambers got off the train in Kansas City, Missouri, along with the schoolteacher he'd sat next to during the ride
from Chicago. Her name was Anita something-or-other—he didn't remember the last name, but it hadn't taken him long to charm her. Middle-aged virgins were all alike. He'd given her a heart-wrenching story about being one of the thousands of newly unemployed autoworkers and traveling the country looking for any work he could find. He'd been polite too; hadn't wanted to spook her and now, because he had no place to stay and had run out of money, he needed to feed her the final bait. “Had a great time traveling with you, Anita.”

“I had a good time too.”

“Let me make this call to my cousin and then I'll walk you outside. Don't want anybody grabbing you, even if it is daylight.”

She smiled shyly. “Okay.”

He'd told her on the train about this mythical cousin who was supposed to be hooking him up with a place to stay and a job interview. Pulling out his phone, he punched in random numbers and held the nonworking device to his ear. After a few seconds, he looked at her and asked emotionally, “How can the number be disconnected? I just talked to him before we left Chicago.”

“Maybe you dialed the wrong number.”

“Yeah, that's probably it.” This time he made a show of putting in the numbers slowly. He positioned the phone against his ear again, and after a few seconds, shook his head. “Same thing. Shoot,” he added.

He snapped the face closed and stuck the phone back into the pocket of his denim jacket. He sighed.

“Do you know where he lives?”

“No. Afraid not. Never visited him here before.”

“How are you going to find him?”

“I don't know. Maybe I can find a cheap room somewhere and wait it out.”

“Why don't you come home with me? You can try him for the rest of the evening and if you don't find him, I have a guest room you can stay in for a couple days if you need to.”

“I don't want to put you out. Besides, you don't even know me.”

“You were very nice to me on the train, Walter Davis, and you impress me as being an honest man. I think I'll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Come on, my car's in a garage up the street.”

As they left the train station and headed to the garage, the elated Ray Chambers shouted inwardly,
Bingo!

That evening, she cooked him dinner. After a few glasses of wine, one thing led to another, and the next morning when Anita Baldwin woke up, he was gone, along with her car, credit cards, and the two hundred dollars she'd had in her purse.

Feeling good, Ray drove into Kansas City, Kansas, just as dawn was breaking. He'd emptied Anita's debit and credit cards of all their cash, then switched the plate on her BMW with another BMW he spotted parked behind a restaurant a few blocks away from her condo complex. He'd known from riding with her yesterday that the car had no theft protection system like LoJack, and with it being foreign made there was no OnStar either. That being the case,
he figured he could keep the ride for a few more days before he had to think about dumping it somewhere.

He didn't know the first thing about the GPS built into the dash. He figured he could probably fiddle with it until he figured it out but he didn't know if the police had a way to track it if he turned on, so he left it alone. Keeping an eye on his speed and remembering to use his signals so he wouldn't get pulled over, he drove around until he found a place to eat and used some of Anita's cash to buy himself breakfast.

After eating, he got directions to the main library from the restaurant waitress, and as in many urban areas, the homeless were lined up outside waiting for the library to open. There were also a few mothers with young children, and a couple of older kids with backpacks standing around too. Just as he walked up, a woman inside the big brick building appeared in the glass of the front door and undid the locks. He went in with the other early birds and walked up to one of the librarians behind the desk marked Reference.

The young blonde greeted him with a sunny smile. “Good morning. May I help you?”

“Yes. Can you show me how to look up something on the computer?”

“Is it something specific?”

“Yeah, my daughter has to do a school project on wealthy African-American women in Kansas. Any idea who I should start with?”

“Yes. Bernadine Brown. Not only is she one of the richest African-American women in Kansas, but in the country
too. She lives upstate in a little town called Henry Adams. She's been all over the television. Can't believe you or your daughter haven't heard of her.”

“I don't let my kids watch too much TV.”

“Good for you.”

Ray took a stab in the dark. “But I think I may have heard of Ms. Brown. Now, is she the one with the foster daughter?”

“Why yes. CNN has done quite a few reports on Ms. Brown and her fostering program. The clips are probably still on their Web site.”

Holding on to his excitement, he asked, “Can you show me how to get a look at them?”

“Certainly.”

A few minutes later, Ray was sitting in front of a screen watching replays of the news reports. That the Brown woman had enough bucks to buy a whole town left him amazed. There was a short interview with the foster kids she'd brought to the town, and there in the back sat his daughter, Crystal. Even with the tacky blond weave, she looked just like Nikki.

After thanking the woman, he left the library and drove to the nearest gas station. Once he filled the tank he purchased a map. Sitting in the car, he plotted out the route. It would take him a few days probably, but he had a gassed-up BMW, plenty of cash, and nothing but time. Laughing at how easy it had all been, he pushed one of Anita's jazz CDs into the player and headed north for Graham County.

I
t was 6:00 a.m. and still dark when Bernadine got up and dressed for work. Before leaving for her drive into town, she quietly opened the door to Crystal's bedroom and saw that she was asleep. Emotions flooded Bernadine and she debated spending the morning at home. However, she knew that even in her grief Crystal would only stand for so much coddling, so Bernadine decided to give the teen some space and closed the door soundlessly. She'd text her later in the day.

Bernadine swung by the Dog for breakfast and to get a firsthand look at how things were faring now that Rocky was running things. The place was packed. The college kids from the culinary program who were working as waitstaff were dressed in black tees and jeans and moving from table to table taking orders and topping off the coffee cups of the diners. She waved to a few familiar faces, like her construction foreman, Warren Kelly, and some of his workers. As she waited for the hostess to return and show her to a seat,
Malachi came out from the kitchen. Seeing her waiting he looked around the crowded place, spotted an empty booth, and beckoned her over.

“Thanks,” she said to him as she sat.

“What can I get you?”

“Coffee to start. And so you'll know, Crystal's mom passed yesterday.”

“Sorry to hear that. How's our princess doing?”

Bernadine shrugged. “As expected I guess. She took it pretty hard.”

“Poor thing. Want me to pass the word around?”

“Would you, please? You'll see more people this morning than I will. Just want folks to put her in their prayers.”

“Will do. Be right back with that coffee.”

While she waited for his return, she looked around. The scent of food cooking was in the air, and the plates being set before the diners held real breakfast food like eggs, bacon, and pancakes. All in all, folks looked to be happy with Rocky's hand on the wheel and being served food they could recognize, and if they were happy, Bernadine was too.

Mal returned with a coffeepot and left her with one of the waitresses Bernadine knew to be named Kelly.

“Morning, Ms. Brown. Ms. Rocky hasn't set up a formal menu yet, so we're offering basics.”

“Such as?”

“Eggs, grits, toast, bacon and sausage, oatmeal, waffles and pancakes.”

“I'll have grits, toast, scrambled eggs, and one strip of bacon.”

“Coming right up.”

Her plate arrived a short while later and just as she was about to begin, a tall, black-haired White man with a George Clooney look about him, and a teenager who favored him so much they had to be father and son, entered the diner and stood by the sign that told people to “Wait to Be Seated.” Both looked dead on their feet.

Mal cruised over to top off her coffee, and she asked him, “Do you know those two by the door?”

He looked over. “Nope. They look whipped. Let me go take care of them.”

So while Bernadine watched and ate and purred in response to how good the food tasted, she went still when Mal escorted the man and teenager her way.

“This is Ms. Brown,” Mal said by way of introduction.

The man stuck out his hand. “I'm Jack James, the new teacher, and this is my son, Eli.”

She smiled with surprise and delight. “Welcome. How are you?”

“Dead. We just got in from L.A.”

“Please, sit and join me.”

They accepted her invitation and took the empty bench in her booth.

“How was the flight?”

“We drove,” the son, Eli, told her. “Never want to see the inside of a U-Haul ever again.”

At first Bernadine thought he was making a joke, but a closer look showed him to be quite serious, and quite angry if she was reading him correctly.

The dad simply said, “Eli's not real happy about moving, so excuse his rudeness.”

“No problem. Being away from the familiar can be hard on kids. Not many of them like the unknown. Plus he's worn out.”

Eli didn't appear to be paying the least bit of attention to either one of them, and she thought:
Well now.

Mal returned with coffee for both newcomers, and when he was done, Kelly came over and took their order.

Once she departed, Jack took in the bustling eatery and said to Bernadine, “This is a nice place. Interesting name for a diner.”

“Yes it is.” She noted the sadness in his eyes even as he attempted to appear friendly and upbeat.

“Mr. July said Ms. Jefferson is in Vegas?”

“Yes. Should be back later today.”

“She and I did the interview process on the phone, so we haven't met.”

“She's a nice lady.”

“Looking forward to meeting her. She told me the town just built a new school?”

“Yes, the grand opening will be in a few days, so you and Eli are right on time.” She noted that Eli had his face turned toward the window. She wondered what the deal was on him.

She and Jack chitchatted while they waited for their food, and when it arrived steaming hot and smelling wonderful, the conversation between them continued in between bites. Eli ate but didn't say a word.

Once everyone finished the meal, Bernadine said to Jack, “I know you're probably tired, so let's get you and Eli situated. If you can stand to drive just a short distance
more, I'll take you out to where you'll be living until we get your house built.”

“Built?” Jack echoed.

“Yes. Didn't Marie tell you a residence came with the job?”

“Well, yeah, but she said it would be a trailer.”

Eli's eyes went wide. “You made me leave L.A. so we could live in a trailer!”

People nearby couldn't help overhearing, and so stopped eating and glanced their way. Bernadine could see them assess Eli, and none appeared pleased. She didn't bother to explain the true housing situation to Eli, because one, he wasn't the adult, and two, she didn't care for his attitude. She took comfort in the fact that if he and his father stayed, Mr. Surly Teenager would be reined in before this was all over, even if everyone in town had to get involved. “You two ready?”

Jack shook his head wearily.

Eli stood, walked past them, and headed toward the door.

Jack said to her, “I'm really sorry about the way he's acting. Since my wife's death, he's been all mixed up.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Two years.”

“My condolences, and no need to apologize. It'll be okay.”

Mal was at the cash register when they reached the exit.

Jack reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Bernadine said, “My treat. You go on out to the truck. I'll be there in a minute.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

“Thanks, Ms. Brown.”

“No problem.”

Apparently Mal had been watching the booth action too, because as he handed Bernadine her change, he said, “Tamar's gonna love him.”

She chuckled. “Oh yeah.”

 

On the drive, Jack looked over at his son's sullen, turned-away face. “You made a real nice first impression back there.”

“They're paying you to be nice, not me.”

“Do you know that if we lose this job we'll be living on the street until I find another? Which means there'll be no food, no cable, no nothing. Just a friendly reminder.”

No response to that.

Driving the truck on the gravel road was a nightmare. Jack could feel each and every bump in the road and could only imagine what the ruts and holes were doing to the suspension of his old SUV being trailered on the back of the U-Haul. Luckily, they didn't have to go far. When Ms. Brown turned off the road and onto a narrow track that led to he had no idea where, he followed. A few moments later he spotted a large green Victorian house up ahead that had an old-fashioned porch on the front. Open prairie spread out around the house for as far as the eye could see.

“Where the hell are we now?” Eli grumbled.

Jack ignored him and slowed the truck to a halt beside Ms. Brown's cobalt blue Ford pickup. She motioned for him
to stop where he was, so he did. They got out just as a tall, silver-haired Black woman stepped out the screened door and onto the porch.

“Morning, Bernadine. Who's that with you?”

“This is our new teacher, Jack James, and his son, Eli.”

“Welcome,” Tamar offered. “Pleased to meet you both. I'm Tamar July.”

“Nice meeting you too, Ms. July,” Jack James replied.

“Call me Tamar.”

When the bored-looking Eli didn't offer any greeting at all, she speared him with a hawklike gaze.

“Are you mute?”

He blinked.

She asked him again, this time with a bit more bite, “Are you mute?”

He shook his head quickly.

“Again. Are you mute?”

“No.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. In polite society, when you are introduced to someone, you respond with
Pleased to meet you
. It's what separates the civilized from the riffraff, so let's start this over.”

Eli jumped, eyes widening slightly.

Bernadine shared a silent look with Jack.

Tamar slowly descended the steps, robes flowing. “I'm Tamar July. And you are?” As she closed the distance between them, Bernadine swore Eli looked like a rabbit about to take flight.

“Eli James,” he replied, seemingly unable to look away from the tall, Seminole matriarch's powerful presence.

“Pleased to meet, you, Eli James.”

He swallowed visibly. “Same here.”

The wintry smile she gave him made Bernadine shiver, and she wasn't even the one in trouble.

“Welcome to Henry Adams, Eli.”

“Thank you.”

That done, Tamar turned to Bernadine. “So, what brings you out here?”

Bernadine heard Jack chuckle softly in response to his son being dressed down, and she smiled as well. To their right, Eli was viewing Tamar with a mixture of caution and apprehension. There was some fear in there too. “I'm here to get them settled into one of the trailers.”

“Then have at it. If you all need anything, let me know. Nice meeting you, gentlemen.”

“Same here,” Jack responded.

She turned to Eli, who replied hastily, “Thank you, Tamar.”

“You're welcome, Eli.”

Walking back over to the porch, she climbed the steps and reentered the house.

Jack whispered lowly, “Wow.”

Eli stared at the door.

Bernadine nodded. “She is something. Come on. The trailer's around back.”

As they followed her, Jack noted that for once, Eli had nothing to say, and he decided that if Tamar was indicative of how life worked in Henry Adams, he was going to enjoy living there very much.

But Eli's silence didn't last long. Once Bernadine showed
them inside and departed with a smile and a promise to check on them later, he said in a cocky voice, “I thought the Pilgrims burned all the witches.”

“Guess they missed one,” Tamar cracked.

Both males jumped, Eli the highest. She was standing in the doorway of the trailer but they'd heard nothing to indicate her approach or presence. Jack honestly believed she'd materialized out of thin air. He took a look at Eli's horror-filled eyes and chuckled inwardly,
Oh yeah. I'm going to love this place.

After letting Eli get a good long look at her, she smoothly turned her attention to Jack. “Bernadine forgot to tell you about the town meeting this evening. We're going to be naming the school, and you're both invited.”

“I'd like that. Give us a chance to meet people. What time?”

“Seven at the Dog and Cow.”

“We'll be there, won't we, Eli?”

He was still wide-eyed. “Uh, uh, yeah. Thank you, Tamar.”

“You're welcome.” Her dark eyes assessed him for another long moment. “What year are you in in school?”

“Junior this year.”

“Good student?”

He glanced over at his father. “I used to be.”

“Planning on college?”

“Yeah. Hope so.”

“Good to know.”

For Jack it was as if the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation of what might come next.

Eli was as stiff as the proverbial board.

When she resumed speaking, her tone held a smooth, easy pace but her smile was predatory. “We're real big on schooling here, Eli. We push our children to do their best, and when they express an interest in something, we adults try and help them out. You mentioned something earlier about witches. What was the question again?”

His eyes popped in reaction, and his thin, sixteen-year-old body began to quiver.

“I remember now. You said you thought the Pilgrims had burned all the witches. Interesting topic for a report, I think. How about you, Mr. James?”

Jack wouldn't have disagreed if he'd been offered a position at Harvard. “I think you're right.”

“Dad!” Eli cried.

“You did express an interest. No getting around that.”

Eli's jaw tightened.

“So,” Tamar continued, “because you're new to town and just moving in, I'll give you two weeks after school starts to finish it and hand it in. I'm sure your principal, Ms. Marie, will want your eight-page report to count as half this semester's American history grade.”

“Eight pages!”

“Can't wait to read it.”

She turned away and focused on Jack. “If you want to follow me over to the diner for the meeting, I'm leaving here at six-thirty.”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome. You two get some rest, now, and I'll see you later. Good-bye, Eli.”

“Good-bye, Tamar,” he replied, sounding miserable.

She smiled and departed.

This time, Eli had nothing to say at all. He instead claimed one of the bedrooms, closed the door, and when Jack looked in on him fifteen minutes later, he was asleep. Jack watched for a few minutes, listened to the soft snores, and reclosed the door. He was pleased.

BOOK: A Second Helping
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