Bring on the Blessings (9 page)

“I know.”

The seriousness of his tone was mirrored in the eyes now holding hers. “Okay. I’ll get you and Lily paperwork and see if we can’t push it through quickly. I guess we now have our five parents.”

Applause sounded.

Tamar added. “I’ve always believed the Spirit puts people in our lives for a reason. I’m not sure if that applies to eleven-year-old carjackers, but we’ll work with what the Spirit sends.”

“Amen,” they said in unison, and began to discuss what needed to be done next.

Dr. Reginald Garland studied his wife, Roni, as she looked out the window of their Upper West Side apartment, and finally asked her quietly, “So why do you want to do this?”

“Because you’ve always wanted children.”

He held her eyes. He had wanted kids, a long time ago. “This shouldn’t be about me. We’re a team, remember?”

She turned away and focused her attention back on the twinkling lights of Manhattan at night. “We are a team, and I’m grateful for you every day. If you hadn’t been on rotation in the ER that awful night of the shooting, I never would’ve made it. But you’re a pediatrician for a reason and I know all this solitude has to be hard on you.”

He nodded as much to himself as to her. “It is, but I love you. Goes with the territory.”

He smiled. She did too before saying softly, “I just think it’s time for me to do something else. Time to move on. Deep down inside, I’ve always wanted kids too. Couldn’t see where to fit them in back then, but now, I’m ready.”

She turned to him knowing he could see through her, but it was okay.

He walked over, fit himself against her back, and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. “Roni, your life is on the stage.”

“Not any more.”

“You’re running away again.”

“I know,” she replied, gazing up at him. “But you love me, and I love you, so let’s go to Kansas.”

Sheila Payne had spent the day packing the suitcases that would be needed and mentally preparing her counters to her husband’s arguments because she knew he’d have many. No way he’d want to move to Kansas and open his heart to a needy child, but she had her mind made up. So at dinner that evening, she announced, “I’ve decided where we’re going to live.”

The newspaper he habitually read during meals was raised like a shield between them. In response to her declaration it didn’t move, but he asked from behind it, in an almost disinterested way, “Where?”

“Kansas. Graham County to be exact.”

The paper came down. “Where?”

“Graham County, Kansas. We’re going to be foster parents.”

He snapped the paper back up. “We’re not moving to Kansas, Sheila.”

“Yes, we are, Barrett. I’ve already talked to the lady in charge. She’s asked us to fly out tomorrow so she can meet us.”

“Tomorrow? No. We are not.”

“Barrett Montgomery Payne, you promised me that when you retired I could pick the place where we’d live, and I pick Graham County, Kansas.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Are you saying your promise was a lie?”

Silence.

A long beat later the paper lowered. They’d been married twenty-five years, and during each of those years she’d
packed up and followed him all over the world. Not once had she complained or demanded he give her permanence or a real home. He held the stern brown eyes of his lady and saw the face of the woman who’d deferred to him on every decision, while she played second fiddle to his love for country and the Marine Corps. “No, the promise was not a lie, baby, but this doesn’t make sense.”

He hadn’t called her baby in years.

“It doesn’t matter. This is what I want, Barrett. Me. For us.”

The paper went back up. “Let me know what I need to do then.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

B
ecause of the chasm between them, Trent didn’t like being around Lily on a day-to-day basis, but they both worked for Bernadine and it couldn’t be helped.

“For heaven’s sake, can you smile?” Lily asked from behind the video cam. In addition to her other duties she’d been appointed videographer for the project. Bernadine thought it might be nice to videotape the before and after of the construction.

Trent didn’t smile. “I have work to do here, Lily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied filming him and the crews putting up drywall at the new rec center.

“Go away.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Mr. Billy Goat Gruff.”

The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she’d said, and they both froze. The workers looked on curiously, they too had sensed the tension between Ms. Bernadine’s two trusted employees from day one, but what they didn’t know was that Mr. Billy Goat Gruff was what
Lily used to teasingly call Trent back in the day when he was being a grump.

For Trent her words brought back all kinds of memories, none of which he wanted to deal with, so he asked her, “Are you done now?”

Caught off guard by how easily the phrase had slipped from her lips and the memories that flooded her as well, she studied him for a moment. His eyes were so hard and distant, she nodded and walked away.

He watched her go, torn between calling her back and cussing himself out for wanting to do so. The men in his crew watched him curiously. He looked them off, saying “Let’s get back to work.”

For the rest of the morning, Trent was plagued by two issues: memories of Lily Fontaine, and whether he’d made the right decision agreeing to take on a foster son. On the one hand he’d always wanted to be a father, but on the other hand a voice inside wanted to know if he’d lost his mind? Trent was forty years old, and if this Amari was only eleven, Trent was looking at a good ten years of hands-on child rearing. He still wasn’t sure why he’d volunteered. At first, he thought it grew out wanting to get back at Lily for that crack, but it was deeper than that. For one, agreeing to raise the boy felt right. The kid obviously needed a real home, and he and his family could give him that, but on the other hand who could resist Bernadine and her dream? She’d infected everyone with a boundless purpose that hit you in the heart and refused to let go. And it wasn’t as if he’d been doing much with his life up to that point, so why not step up? Before her arrival, he’d been content to get up
every morning, go to the garage, tinker with his old cars, then eat and head to bed at the end of the day. He’d been simply existing; but now he could feel the man inside stirring again, like a hermit coming out of his cave stepping into the light, and it didn’t feel too bad.

So he made his peace with being a foster parent, and with half the town to help, how bad could it be? He’d figure out what to do about Lily when he got around to it.

The following morning, Bernadine sent a car service to the airport to fetch the Garlands and Paynes, and while waiting for them to arrive she couldn’t believe how nervous she’d become. Add to the fact that she was going to be in the same room with one of her favorite singers, and you had Bernadine Brown, aka Verging on Basket Case. She drew in a deep breath and reminded herself that she’d met presidents and numerous heads of state, and the last thing she needed was to lose sight of why these people were coming. It had nothing to do with fame and being starstruck, but everything to do with the kids in need of fostering.

“They’re here,” Lily announced, standing in the doorway of Bernadine’s trailer looking out as the big black car pulled up. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s do this.”

Outside, Bernadine greeted each of her guests warmly but professionally. “I’m Bernadine Brown and this is my assistant, Lily Fontaine. Welcome to Kansas.”

The statuesque Roni Moore, whose curves and build were reminiscent of Jill Scott’s, was dressed in nice pair of
jeans, a summer sweater, and hikers. “Been looking forward to meeting you. Thanks for the invite.”

Her husband stepped up to shake Bernadine’s hand. As he introduced himself, he was so not what she’d been expecting. Medium height. Nerdish. Black-framed glasses with lenses thick as the proverbial Coke bottle, but his smile was warm and his handshake firm but gentle. She liked him instantly.

Sheila Payne, dressed in a simple white tee and brown twill pants, stood in casual contrast to her tall marine husband, in his crisp green uniform positioned by her side like a redwood.

“Thanks for flying us in,” she said warmly. “I’ve been waiting to meet you too.”

Her brown-skinned husband stuck out his hand. “Colonel Barrett Montgomery Payne. United States Marine Corps. Retired. Pleasure to meet you.”

Bernadine kept her face neutral and returned the handshake. “Same here.”

He gave her a curt nod.

“Well,” she said a bit overwhelmed. “How about we go inside and get out of this heat?”

As the visitors headed up the steps and into the trailer, Bernadine gave Lily a look. Lily returned it, but neither of them said a word.

Inside the cool confines of Bernadine’s well-appointed trailer, she gestured for everyone to take a seat in her living room. The singer and her doctor chose the sleek, comfortable gold-patterned couch while the Marine Corps chose the
matching loveseat on the other side of the African carved coffee table. The living room was done in soft earth tones. The artwork gracing the walls were pieces she’d picked up on her worldwide travels.

Roni looked around at the room. “You know, this is gorgeous. Whoever thought a trailer could be this fabulous or this big. Wow.”

Bernadine came in carrying a pitcher of cold lemonade and glasses on a tray. “Glad you like it.”

“I may have to get me one of these,” she said, looking around at the beautiful lamps and the African sculptures expertly showcased on a large black bookcase across the room.

When the others smiled, she added, “No joke.”

Bernadine set the tray on the coffee table and began to pour. “How about I give you a tour later?”

“I’d love that.”

Lily brought in a large crystal bowl filled with Ms. Agnes’s prize-winning chicken salad, then returned to the kitchen to grab the tray of fancy crackers, some plates, napkins, and the rest. As she set everything down she said, “Not sure if you’ve eaten, so help yourselves if you’d like. We’ll feed you real food this evening.”

“This is fine,” Sheila said, reaching for one of Bernadine’s gold-rimmed salad plates and helping herself to the fixings.

After everyone had a plate and was settled in, the lighthearted small talk drifted back and forth over neutral topics like hometowns, colleges they’d attended, and siblings.
Roni and Reggie had two brothers each and were the eldest in their families. Colonel Payne and Sheila were only children.

“We’re both military brats,” Sheila pointed out glancing over at her husband. “He grew up in the corps and I grew up in the navy.”

“Lived all over the world,” Payne added.

Bernadine had expected him to be standoffish and cool, but he seemed pretty regular.

Reggie said to Payne, “The kids would probably enjoy hearing about your traveling. Don’t you think, Ms. Brown?”

“Please, call me, Bernadine. And yes, most of them have probably had little contact with people who’ve seen other countries. Be a great way to teach a little geography too.”

Roni asked, “Do you have the kids picked out?”

“I do, but we’ll talk about that later. After we eat, I want to show you around so you can get a taste of what you’ll be getting yourselves into if you decide to sign on.” It would also give her a chance to check them out; see how they interacted with each other, get a feel for anything that might throw up a red flag. Just because she only had two couples didn’t mean she was going to give them an automatic pass in order to expedite the process. This was going to be serious business, and she needed them to be serious people.

So after lunch they all piled into Baby, and Bernadine drove to town. On the way, Colonel Payne said, “I’ve never seen the plains of Kansas. Got its own kind of beauty.”

“I agree,” Bernadine replied, surprised by his sentiment. “Roads are rough though.”

“No kidding,” Reggie said as they bucked and lurched over a particularly large rut.

“People keep telling me I’ll get used to it,” Bernadine said, bouncing around in the driver’s seat, “but so far, not yet.”

Bernadine took them on a tour of the old Henry Adams, then showed them the trailers, which were duplicates of her own. They seemed impressed by both stops.

They then went to the site where the homes were being built. The first five homes going up were now wrapped in Tyvek and actually looked like houses instead of a field of beams. The workers were buzzing over the site, doing their thing, but the noise of the construction was pretty much muted inside of the truck by the raised windows. Bernadine stopped but kept the engine running. “These first five homes will be finished in another three weeks or so.”

Roni looked out the window at the open spaces surrounding the homes. “There is absolutely nothing else out here.”

Bernadine chuckled. “I know, but it doesn’t take long for the feel of the land to grow on you. Real peaceful, I’m finding.”

Lily added, “When I was growing up here, I hated all this nothing, but after living in Atlanta, I’m loving it. As you get older, things change, I guess.”

“Just the houses being built first?” Payne asked.

“No. We’re putting up a rec center for the community just up the road. Give us all a place to meet. Have meetings, hang out.”

Lily added, “Especially in the winter. The seniors can get pretty isolated.”

Reggie asked, “What about health care? Is there a doctor here?”

“No. Right now, people go to a clinic over in Franklin, about fifteen miles away. If it’s really serious, they have to drive down to the big hospital in Hays.”

“You know I’m a pediatrician.”

“I do.”

He asked, “So are you planning on having some kind of clinic here for the children?”

“Soon as I can find a doctor willing to take the job. Lily and I have put out some feelers.”

He nodded as if the answer pleased him.

In the mirror, Bernadine saw his wife give him a small smile, which he returned.

Bernadine said, “I know you’re all cramped up back there. How about we get out and stretch our legs?”

Payne grumbled, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Now they could hear the noise. She spied Trent in his hard hat looking over a blueprint with construction-boss Kelly. When he saw her, he handed the blueprint over to Kelly and came over to where she and the others stood.

Introductions were made, and they all shook his hand.

“Trent’s the town mayor,” Bernadine told the guests. “His family’s lived here for generations. In fact, his great-great-grandmother was mayor in her day.”

“A lady mayor?” Sheila asked curiously.

“Yep,” Trent replied, “but we were also outlaws in those days, so don’t let that fool you.”

“Outlaws?” Payne asked.

Trent nodded. “When you meet my grandmother, have her bring out her pictures. She loves showing them off.”

“I’ll do that. My great-great-grandfather was a deputy marshal back in those days. Wonder if he arrested your ancestors. That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

Trent studied him. “Where was he marshal?”

“Indian Territory. Town called Wewoka.”

Trent went still. “What was his name?”

“Deputy Marshal Dixon Wildhorse.”

Trent looked Payne up and down, then smiled and stuck out his hand again. With real warmth in his voice, he said, “Welcome home, my brother.”

Payne looked confused, and so did everyone else. He shook Trent’s hand warily. “What do you mean, ‘welcome home’?”

“Your great–great-granddaddy and mine were good friends. So good that back in the day they fought on the same side during a shoot-out at the saloon here in town called the Liberian Lady. In fact,” Trent was just grinning. “wait until Tamar finds out. Dix’s descendant. She is going to have a fit. Man! It’s great to meet you.”

Payne still looked confused. “Are you saying Wildhorse was here? In Henry Adams?”

“Yep. More than a few times. Plus we share heritage.”

Payne stared back blankly.

“Black Seminole,” Trent said.

“Black Seminole?”

“You didn’t know Marshal Wildhorse was Seminole?”

“No.”

Roni whispered in an awed voice, “This is amazing.”

Bernadine was riveted. She’d never seen Trent so animated.

“Let me get my truck,” he said, excitement in his eyes. “Bernadine, we have to go see Tamar. I know you probably had other stuff planned but I—”

She held up a hand. “No, we can go. She was on my list anyway. That old saying about it being a small world for Black folks?”

“Amen,” Lily chimed.

Payne still looked doubtful. “Are you sure?” he asked Trent again.

“Sure as my name is July and Tamar’s got pictures to prove it. Meet you all there.” He took off at a run to get his vehicle, leaving Bernadine and the others to stare after him in wonder. “Guess we’re going to Tamar’s.”

The stunned Payne said, “Guess so.” He looked down at his wife, who smiled up and said softly, “Told you this is where we’re supposed to be.”

What could he say?

Sure enough, Tamar came out to the porch with a battered old album that was lovingly wrapped inside of a pillowcase. Everyone looked on eagerly as she opened it. Colonel Payne was seated next to her on the sofa. She told him. “The folks in Nicodemus had a newspaper called the
Cyclone,
and the photographer took pictures everywhere. Some of these are from the paper and some from pictures he took of folks who lived around this way.” She turned past sepia-colored photos and tintypes. When she got to the page she was looking for, she pointed her aged finger at
one of the men in the photograph. “This is Deputy Marshal Wildhorse. His wife, Katherine, was a pioneering newspaper lady, but I don’t have any pictures of her.”