Bring on the Blessings (24 page)

A
s summer began to wane, Henry Adams’s new residents were all settled in. The unpacking had been finished, items that had been shipped, like all the colonel’s books, finally arrived, and all the boxes stored.

During the last week of August, the children began school with Marie Jefferson in charge, and Trent was thankful that the 9:00 to 3:00 classroom gave him a break from the ten thousand questions Amari seemed to wake up with daily. He and Preston finally finished painting the Jefferson fence, and since then there’d been no more Stupid Boy Tricks. Trent was encouraged by that. So far, no cars, trucks, or tractors had come up missing, and he was encouraged by that as well.

He’d mentioned to Marie that Amari was behind in his reading, and she promised to handle it as tactfully as she could. Education was paramount, especially for a child
with his background, and Trent volunteered to help in any way he could to get the boy up to speed.

Trent’s other dilemma was Lily Fontaine. He had fallen for her again, hook, line, and sinker. They’d not gone on a second date because now that the town Web site was up, she was spending her time fielding all the requests for info on Henry Adams coming in from all over the world, or so it seemed. Although he was in love with her, he had enough sense not to let her know, but in truth, he’d begun falling for her again the day she drove into the garage with that smoke-belching rental car.

It was surprising mainly because it wasn’t anything he’d planned or that she’d encouraged; his attraction to her was just there, and every day, every time he saw her he slid farther down the slope.

“So when did you resurrect this old dinosaur?” Malachi asked.

The two of them were in the garage looking at an old banged-up and busted-up Chrysler New Yorker. It used to be Trent’s high school car. “Been trying to get to it for a few years now.”

“Liar,” Malachi said with a grin and took a swig of his cola. “I was drinking back then, but even I remember this car. Used to be mine before I gave it to you when you were sixteen.”

Trent pretended not to hear and concentrated on removing the passenger-side door. He’d totaled it in a spring ice storm right after graduation. Since then it had been sitting under sheets of plastic and tarps to keep the weather out.
Old man Dancer, Rocky’s father and the previous owner of the garage, had promised to help Trent restore it when the time came, but he died six years ago. “I may have a buyer for it when I’m done.”

“You are no more going to sell it than I’m going to marry Tyra.”

Trent finally got the rusted door off and eased it to the floor.

“Does Lily know you’re working on it?”

“Don’t see why she should.”

Malachi shook his head. “Denial is not a river in Africa, boy.”

Trent chuckled. “I know, Dad.”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me. When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“When are you going to tell Bernadine how you feel?”

“Already have, but she’s in denial too.”

“Not like you to go after a woman over forty, or even fifty for that matter.”

“Things change, but in your case, sometimes they don’t.”

Trent knew he shouldn’t ask, but he did, “What do you mean?”

“Means you’re still in love with Lily Fontaine.”

“Not necessarily,” Trent lied.

“Pitiful. You’re working on the car you took her to the prom in, and both of your ex-wives looked just like her.”

“No they didn’t.”

“Yeah, they did. Maybe not exactly, but overall they resembled her a lot.”

Trent wanted to remind Malachi that he’d been drinking back then too, but he kept that to himself. “Like I said, I think I may have a buyer for this when I’m done.”

Malachi shook his head. “Whatever you say.”

A moment later, Amari came strolling in. With his backpack on and his jeans and blue polo he looked like the normal everyday eleven-year-old coming home from school.

“Hey, Trent. Hey OG.”

Malachi grinned. “Hey, kid.”

Trent asked, “How was school?”

“Ms. Marie is trippin’, but it was all right. Gave me a bunch of homework that I can’t read, so I’ll need your help. I can do the math, though.”

“Got your back. If it’s any consolation, she used to wear me out too.”

“It’s not,” he cracked. Amari looked over the car as Trent started in on removing the other door. “You taking this to the dump?”

“Nope. Going to restore it. Maybe sell it.” He waited for Malachi to throw in his two cents but thankfully he didn’t.

“Can I help?”

“Sure. After the math homework.”

“Why does there always have to be a catch?”

“It’s the way life works.”

Amari walked around the old black car. “You sure you don’t want to take this to the dump? Looks dead.” He stuck his head inside and checked out the panel. “No computer?”

“Nope. No computers back then. At least not the high-tech ones on cars today.”

“Zoey could steal this.”

Malachi and Trent shared a look. Trent said, “You steal this after I fix it, and I feed you to a combine.”

“Can you hot-wire a combine?”

“Go in the office and get your homework started.”

“I was just asking.”

“Homework.”

Malachi stood up. “Come on, boy. I’ll buy you a soda and you can get on your job.”

Amari shot Trent a grin and followed Malachi inside.

“Mrs. Curry was my reading tutor today.”

“Really?” Malachi said, coming in with another Pepsi for him and a can of Dr Pepper for Amari. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, but she seemed real sad. Did you know her husband’s big fat pig killed somebody?”

Malachi took a sip. “Yep. Officially, it was pretty tragic.”

“How come none of us kids knew about it?”

“Grown folks’ business, but it was on the news too.”

“I don’t watch the news.”

“Noticed that.”

“Well, I think we should have been told. I can take it. I grew up in the murder capital of the world, but murder by hog? That’s wack.”

“Is that all you learned from Genevieve today?” The seniors were taking turns tutoring Amari in reading.

“No, she just seemed so sad. Did they really tear down her house?”

“Yeah. She was supposed to be tutoring you, not using you as Dear Abby.”

“Who’s that?”

Malachi waved him off. “Never mind.”

Amari kept talking as if Mal hadn’t said a word. “I think she just needed somebody to talk to. Been trying to think of something nice I can do for her. Make her feel better, you know?”

He did and it made him feel good. Beneath all that rock-hard city swagger was a kid with a heart. “Sounds like a good idea, but right now, math. And get started before Trent comes in and starts fussing at us both.”

Crystal dumped her backpack on the chair in her room. She was not a big fan of school. She was also getting tired of not hearing anything back about her mom. It had been weeks now since the search began. She was sure Ms. Bernadine was getting tired of her asking about it all day every day, but what else was she supposed to do? It hadn’t taken real long to find Zoey’s aunt.

She sighed with frustration and made up her mind that if she didn’t hear something back by next week, she’d go back to searching herself.

At school the next day, she went over and sat with Amari and Preston outside at lunch.

Amari looked suspicious. “What do you want?”

“Need to talk to you. I’m thinking about taking off.”

“And go where?” Preston asked, concerned.

“New Orleans, to find my mom.”

“Isn’t Ms. Bernadine paying somebody to look for her?”

“Yeah, but they’re taking too long.”

Preston said, “You should just wait.”

“I’m tired of waiting.”

“Okay,” Amari said, “but why are you telling us?”

“Might need your help.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll have to get to the highway and I can’t drive.”

“Call a cab,” Preston said.

“Don’t be stupid. What am I going to look like calling a cab so I can run away?”

“If you’re running away, you’re going to look stupid either way.”

“Shut up!” she snapped.

Amari took a bite of the big fat burger the senior ladies had made them for lunch. “Preston does have a point. Why not stay? Ms. Bernadine’s got to be the best foster mother you ever had.”

“I know that, but this is my
real
mother I’m talking about. My flesh and blood.”

Preston wanted to remind her that they were talking about a flesh-and-blood crackhead, but he decided to keep that to himself.

Amari asked, “So when do you want to do this?”

“Next week some time.”

“You’ll have to get somebody else. I promised myself I wouldn’t steal anymore cars. I don’t want to mess this up and get sent back. I kind of like it here.”

“Are you crazy? We’re in Green Acres, there’s nothing
to do, no place to go. They don’t even have a damn Mickey D’s.”

Amari looked at her. “No, they don’t, but the people here are the closest I’m ever going to get to being in a real family. Shit, I may even learn to read. I’m not messing this up.”

She huffed out a breath and leaned back against the table. “You’re just scared.”

“Right.”

“You are. You’re just scared of getting caught.”

“Yep. So you and your bad weave have a good time
walking
to 183.”

“Kiss my ass, Amari,” she said, and stalked off.

As she disappeared back inside the rec center, Preston asked, “You think she’s really going to take off?”

“Probably.”

“You’re not going to help her, are you?”

He shrugged and drained the last of his drink. “Don’t know.”

“Amari?”

“It’s her family, man. You and me, we don’t remember our mamas. She does. Makes a difference.”

“You’re going to get caught.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Way I figure it, I can probably get her to the highway and get myself back without anybody knowing I was gone if the planning’s right.”

Preston shook his head. “This is so not going to work.”

“Cheer up, maybe she’ll hear something or change her mind and we won’t have to worry about it.”

“We don’t have to worry about it now.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Why?”

“Because as cracked out as Crystal is, she’s part of our family. Remember the candles we lit?”

“I don’t think this is what that meant.”

“It did to me. When one of us needs something, we step up.”

“I thought you just said you don’t want to mess this up?”

“I don’t, which is why if and when the time comes we need to have a bulletproof plan.”

Preston scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “Okay, but we definitely need to keep this on the down low. If Ms. Bernadine finds out or God help us, Tamar, they’re going to line us up, give us a blindfold and a last cigarette, and have the colonel shoot us at dawn.”

Bernadine sat at the dinner table and watched the silently eating Crystal. She wasn’t sure how to deal with the moody and withdrawn young woman she’d turned into over the past few weeks. Granted the girl had always been a little edgy, but now she was spending most of her after-school time up in her room and never had more than a few words to say. She hadn’t been disrespectful, so far, but Bernadine wondered if the honeymoon period the foster parenting DVDs had described was coming to an end. “You’ve been awfully quiet the last few days. Something going on you want to talk about?”

“No.”

“If you’re sick, we can have Dr. Garland take a look at you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Positive.” She finished the rest of the food on her plate and then pushed back her chair. “I’ll load the dishes and go finish my homework.”

“Okay.” Bernadine watched her leave the room.

After Crystal went upstairs to work on homework, Bernadine went next door to talk with Lily about what might be going on with Crystal.

Inside however, she found Lily seated at the kitchen table, her hands laced around a cup of tea. There were tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Bernadine asked with concern.

“Just got faxed a report on Zoey. Here—read this. I called the Garlands. They’re on their way.”

Bernadine took what appeared to be a copy of a police report. As she read, her shaking hand went to her mouth. “My Lord,” she whispered. “Rats?”

The Garlands came in.

Roni saw their faces and asked, “What’s the matter? We brought Devon back with us, Lily. He and Zoey are out on the porch swing.”

Roni and Reg read the report and tears welled up in both their eyes. “Oh no,” Roni whispered, “oh, my poor little baby girl.”

Reg asked, “Where’d this come from?”

“Miami-Dade Police,” Lily said. “Apparently, that initial report of where and how they found Zoey after her mother
died never made it into any of the subsequent reports. Fell through the cracks, I guess. All anyone knew except the two officers who found her and dropped her off at the ER was that she was homeless and her mother was dead. She went straight into the state child protection system afterward.”

Lily added, “I just got off the phone with one of the officers. She said there were so many rats fighting over Zoey her whole little body was covered.” Lily began to cry. “She said she and her partner wouldn’t have even known there was a child under the mound of rats if they hadn’t heard her screaming.”

Roni sank into a chair and put her head in her hands. “I’m going to be sick.” She got up and ran to the nearest bathroom. Her husband hurried after her.

Bernadine wiped at her eyes. “So how badly was she bitten?”

“Not very, miraculously. The policewoman said the rats had turned on each other by the time they arrived—trying to keep each other from getting the prize, I guess. Zoey did have to have a series of rabies shots. She was in the hospital for quite some time.”

“Lord have mercy,” Bernadine said with a sorrowful shake of her head, “and she went through that all alone.”

“Yeah.”

Roni came back in the room. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Bernadine reassured her. “It’s awful.”

Lily then repeated the information about the rabies shots, and all Reg could do was sigh. “Had that been me with those rats, I’d be on heavy Thorazine to this day, maybe for the rest of my life.”