Lacy's End (25 page)

The party went well, and before the night was over Brenda had five offers of catering jobs, and others asking for her business card. At first, she declined, trying to explain that this was a one-time thing.

However, after the third request for a card, Allen leaned across her, handed his card, with Brenda’s name and phone number written on the back. He explained, “She didn’t think about bringing cards with her tonight. Here’s her information.”

When the guests had walked away, she said, “Allen, I don’t have any business cards because I don’t have a business.”

He pulled her into the kitchen. “Are you really that naïve?”

“What do you mean?”

He smiled. “You really are naïve. How many inquiries did you receive tonight?”

She smiled demurely. “Five.”

He shook his head. “Granted, they all probably won’t offer you three thousand dollars, but still…you don’t even have to do the math to know that’s a lot of money on the table.” She still looked confused. He threw his hands up in frustration. “Start your own catering business.”

“Oh, no—I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t even know how.”

“You did it tonight.”

“That’s different.”

“Why.”

“It just is,” she said, turning away and beginning to clear away dishes.

He pitched in and started helping clear, but he didn’t let up on the issue. “Brenda,” he said, setting some glasses in the sink, “you said yourself you need to make money. You want your own place, don’t you?”

“Well yes, of course, I do.”

“You want Lacy living with you instead of the social worker, don’t you?”

A flash of anger crossed her face, blood coloring it red. “Of course I want Lacy with me. Don’t you think it kills me knowing Angela has the say-so with her?”

He spread his arms, hands palm up. “Well, then…you can change that.”

She sighed, puckered her mouth, rolling her eyes in a thoughtful gaze. “I wouldn’t even know how to begin. I’m sure there’s a lot of rules and regulations to obey.”

“So, you do some research.”

“What about money? It must take a lot of it to get a business going?”

“How about a silent partner?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Who?” To his grinning smile, she said, “Oh, no, Allen. You’ve done enough. I’m not going to take money from you.”

“You’re not taking money.”

“Okay, I won’t borrow money from you, either. I don’t even know if I’d be able to pay it back.” She walked away, intent on picking up more dishes.

He ran to catch up, grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, looking into her eyes, punctuating his words. “It’s a business investment. You won’t have to pay it back.”

“And if I’m not successful?”

“Then I write it off as an investment loss.”

She dropped her shoulders, knowing she was losing the argument. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

He picked her up and twirled her around. As she came down, he pulled her against him, kissing her passionately on the mouth. When he pulled away, he noted how happy she looked. “It’s going to happen, Brenda. Soon, this is all going to be over, and you’ll be free to do what you want.”

She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate.

Angela and Lacy entered the kitchen. Their arms were laden with dirty dishes, and they set them down with a sigh.

Brenda sighed. “Back to reality.”

They shared the chores. Allen and Brenda shared the news of the new business.

Allen ordered her business cards, stationary, helped her open a business checking account using his silent partner money, and a savings account using the three thousand dollars her first catering job had produced. Allen also put her in touch with a lawyer, who helped her get a business license. He finally drew up a silent partner agreement, upon which he and Brenda had agreed. Just a few short weeks after Florence Howell’s party, Second Chance Catering was born.

A month later, Brenda and Allen were sitting by the pool. It was cool outside, so Allen had dragged out the patio heater. They sat huddled together on the patio swing, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. Each of them had a mug of hot cocoa warming their hands. Thanksgiving was only a week away. “Mom wants me to come home for the holiday,” he blurted out.

“Oh?” Brenda said, stopping the swing for a moment. She hoped the disappointment in her voice didn’t betray her. Angela also was traveling home for the holiday. She had invited Brenda and Lacy, but Brenda hadn’t committed to her. She felt embarrassed going to Angela’s family home, knowing they must all know about the situation. The hearing to return custody of Lacy to Brenda was scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving, but until then she preferred to stay away. She had planned to use the holiday break to look for an apartment. She let the swing go, and it resumed its rhythmic journey.

“I was wondering if you and Lacy would come with me.”

The swing stopped, and they sat in silence. When she began to speak, her voice cracked with emotion. “No man has ever asked me such a question.” She fell silent again, and he gave her time, looking away so she wouldn’t feel pressured. “Allen, I don’t think I’m worthy enough to meet your family. Maybe someday—after I’ve recovered a little and have some of my pride back.”

He turned and looked at her, tipping her face toward his. “You’re worth everything,” he said. He kissed her, and she felt a teardrop slide down her cheek. “You’re the exact girl my mother always hoped I’d bring home.”

She laughed, choking on her tears. “What, she doesn’t love you?” She kissed him this time, the intensity rising with each passing moment. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her as close as he could. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not until it’s finished with Peter.”

“Then it’s time to end it,” he said.

She turned away, staring down at the water, following with her eyes the ripples the filter made. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Right after Thanksgiving.”

She nodded. They settled into the swing, resuming the back and forth motion, content for the moment with what they had.

Brenda stood back and looked at the display she had just assembled—a large round platter with a big colorful Santa Claus in the center. It was beautiful, with an inner center of decadent fudge, surrounded by a pinwheel of colorful cookies. She was on her way to the hospital. The nurses had been kind and welcoming to her. She wanted to show her appreciation to them.

She had been a volunteer at the hospital for several months now and regretted having had to decrease the number of hours she put in there. With the growing success of the catering business and her need to be a stronger parent for Lacy, she just didn’t have as much free time anymore. Today she would sit with the kids in the cancer ward. Allen had warned her about their strict diets, so she had just knit them all hats to cover their bald chemo-heads—pink with white snowflakes for the girls, and tan with basketballs for the boys. She made a special one for Richie Jones, Allen’s special patient.

She had begun sitting with the boy and his mother for longer periods than she had with the other kids. She didn’t know if this was because of the empathy she felt for the dying boy, or the compassion she felt toward his mother, who would have to live on after he was gone.

She and Taja became somewhat close, swapping recipes, laughing at stories of Richie growing up, holding each other while the other cried during periods of intense grief. It was hard to believe the boy would soon be gone, but Allen had assured her this would be his last hospital admission. She had held Allen while he cried over his defeat.

“I hear you’re a caterer,” Taja had said to her on one of her visits. She had taken her by surprise with the question, but she had nodded in affirmation of the answer. Taja had smiled and said, “Would you do Richie’s after-party?”

“After-party?”

“It’s what he wants,” Taja had said. “And I don’t think I’ll be in any condition to organize it after his passing, so I’m doing it now.”

Brenda had been shocked and uncomfortable, but when she spied the expectant smile on Richie’s face, she nodded. “I’d be honored to do it, but I won’t take any money for it.”

Taja laughed. “Good, because I ain’t got money.”

All three of them had roared with laughter. Brenda spent the rest of the visit asking Richie about his favorite foods. She wanted to make sure she included all of them in the menu.

Brenda sighed at the memory and picked up her platter of goodies. She headed for the front door, eager not to be late for her volunteer shift. With the holidays so close, volunteers were in short supply.

Struggling to open the door, she set down the platter on the grass and eased open the car door. As she did, her side mirror caught a glimpse of someone sprinting across the lawn behind her. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought she recognized Peter.

Quickly, she threw open the door, grabbed the platter and jumped into the car, slamming and locking the door behind her. She turned in her seat, scanning the premises for any sign of him—nothing. She craned her neck to get a better look and sat perfectly still for several minutes. Nothing happened. She didn’t hear any cars start, no tires squeal, just the pounding of her own heart. She laughed uneasily. “You’re getting paranoid,” she scolded herself.

She put the car in gear and pulled out of her parking space. Every so often, as she drove down the road, she would glance in her rearview mirror, looking for any signs that someone followed her. She began to breathe easier.

She greeted the security guard with a big smile and a chocolate brownie. “Morning, James,” she said.

He returned a hearty chuckle and a pat to his protruding midsection. “Good thing I’m working out,” he said good-naturedly.

Brenda imagined he had a wife at home, cooking gourmet meals for him. “That’s great, James. You’re looking good.”

James waved her through with a hearty chuckle and a flick of the wrist. “Go on now, Mrs.… I mean, Brenda, and go make those kiddies smile.” She hesitated a moment. “Was there something else?”

She bit her lower lip, hesitated to ask her question, not wanting to come off as some paranoid lunatic. “Say, James, you haven’t seen my husband around, have you?”

He shook his head. “He’s been in here a couple of times with one of his deputies.” He chuckled. “He said something about bringing along a witness to do police business, so you couldn’t accuse him of harassing you.” He shrugged. “I had to let him in.”

She gave him a warm smile. “It’s fine. I was just wondering.” She inched forward. “Have a good day.” She saw him wave in her rearview mirror.

She found a spot in the parking garage and got out of the car. She looked around with a new awareness. It unnerved her to know Peter had been on the hospital grounds without her knowing it. She slung her purse over her shoulder and bent in to retrieve her package.

As she began to stand, she heard movement behind her. She swung around, eager to confront Peter and put a stop to this madness—even if she had to die in the process. Then three feet ahead of her, she saw a mother clutching her little boy’s hand tightly.

He was singing a song and hopping on one foot. She walked on as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

Brenda smiled, laughed lightly at her over-dramatic imagination and moved on. A few feet more and she heard footsteps rushing behind her. She whirled again, her mouth half-open in preparation to do battle. She clutched the mace can Allen had bought her tightly in her hand. She would not let Peter lay another hand on her—ever! She let out her breath. It was only a little man, clutching a bouquet of flowers, hurrying toward the elevators that would take him to the lower floors and into the hospital.

While she knew well enough this man was no match for Peter, she felt better with the knowledge that another person was nearby. She rushed forward. “Hold the elevator, please.” The door began to close. “Please!” She called again, picking up the pace.

The man reached out and put his foot in to stop it. Brenda nearly fell through the door. She probably would have if the man hadn’t reached out with his empty hand to steady her. “Whoa there,” he said, “You got demons chasing you?”

She laughed nervously. If he only knew. “I’m late for a shift, that’s all,” she said, but she glanced back over her shoulder.

“You sure you’re okay?” She nodded in response.

When she saw him eyeing the platter of cookies, she extended it to him. “Have one.”

His eyes lit up, but he shook his head. “That’s not necessary. It looks like you’re on your way to a party.”

The elevator bell chimed and started to open. She peeled back one side of the plastic wrap. “Consider it payment for rescuing a damsel in distress.”

He chuckled as they stepped from the elevator. They were on the ground level now. She could see the parking attendant and let out a breath of relief. “Well, if you’re going to put it that way.” He lifted one cookie from the tray and took a bite. “Mmm, mmm, these are fantastic,” he said. His eyes wandered back to the tray.

Brenda laughed. “Thank you. Here, have another.” She peeled back the wrap again.

He smiled. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“I’m pleased you like them so much.” She nudged the tray in his direction.

He took a brownie this time and started to turn to walk away but turned back. “May I be so bold as to beg one for my wife? She’s awfully down about being in the hospital over the holiday, and I think this might be the thing to cheer her up. Her nose will be a bit out of joint that someone else bakes better than she does, but I won’t tell her that.” He grinned and winked. “She’s pretty smart, though. I think she’ll figure it out.”

They both laughed as she handed him a brownie. “Tell her to get well soon, and I hope you have a happy holiday.”

“Same to you,” he said.

Brenda’s heart melted at the thought that this would be the first holiday season she looked forward to since her mother’s death.

She watched him take a few steps and then turn back. “You might want to be careful about wandering around up there by yourself. One of the docs got his tires slashed, and I don’t think they’ve found the person who did it.”

Brenda frowned. “When did this happen?”

“Last night, I think. It’s a shame people have to be so mean. You know what I’m saying? Everyone should bake brownies.” He smiled and started walking.

“Do you know who the doctor was?”

He stopped, shook his head. “Naw. I never pay attention to that kind of stuff. My wife has so many doctors working on her that I lose track. It’s a Mercedes, is all I know. I walked by it right after it happened.” Brenda’s blood froze. Allen owned a Mercedes, but surely, he would have said something to her. Wouldn’t he? “He was a young guy—fighting mad, he was. Not that I blame him—all four tires slashed like that.” He shook his head, and she watched him walk away.

She ran to find Allen. He was standing at the nurses’ station and turned his head when he saw Sheila nod in her direction. He caught sight of the tray and ran to help her.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, easing the tray out of her hands.

“The hell she didn’t,” Sheila said and ran to snatch the tray from Allen’s hands. “What good is it to have a master baker on staff if we can’t reap a little of the benefits once in a while.” She leaned toward Brenda for a hug. “Thanks, Brenda.”

Brenda giggled and threw an arm around Sheila’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you save some for the night shift.”

Sheila raised her eyebrows in a challenge. “Let them find their own damned baker. You’re ours.”

She trotted off to the staff lounge, taking the tray with her, dashing any hopes Allen had of getting a sweet treat. Allen shrugged and held up his arms. Brenda smiled. “I figured something like that might happen.” She pulled a tin from her bag and handed it to him. “Your own personal stash.”

He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her with purpose. “I knew I could count on you.”

They started toward his office. She grew serious. “Did someone slash your tires last night?”

“How’d you know?”

“A patient’s husband told me. We shared an elevator ride. He warned me they hadn’t caught the person yet. Do you think it was Peter?”

“Probably. I’ve seen him lurking around, but he hasn’t violated the restraining order. I can’t very well bar him from the hospital.”

She frowned. “I guess not.” She kissed him quickly. “I have to get up to the ward. Taja’s probably waiting for me. She said she had an errand to run but didn’t want to leave Richie alone.”

“Lunch later?” he asked.

“If you can wait until two.”

He snapped the lid off the tin of sweets and bit voraciously into a brownie. Through a mouth full of food, he mumbled, “I can wait.”

She was halfway down the hallway, and he stood watching her back as she departed. She turned and threw him a kiss. “Eyes open,” he shouted after her.

“Always,” she shouted back.

When she arrived on the ward, she went straight to Richie. Taja waited anxiously. “Did you hear?” Brenda shook her head. “Richie’s going home for Thanksgiving.”

She grinned with pleasure, wondering why Allen hadn’t mentioned it. “That’s great, Taja.”

“I’m going to go and get him checked out. Will you stay with him?”

“What about your errand?” she asked.

“Not necessary now that my boy is coming home.”

Taja’s errand was to go to the costume shop, dress up as a giant turkey and sing songs with her boy all day long on Thanksgiving. In all honesty, she didn’t feel Taja had all that much to be thankful for that year.

Brenda watched her run off, her heart heavy with sadness. She knew the only reason Richie would be going home for the holiday was either he was improving drastically or it was nearing the end for him, and his wish to die at home was being granted. She knew from conversations with Allen the former was not the case. She admired Taja for her strength. For all her problems, losing a child to social services didn’t compare to the grief and hopelessness Taja surely must be feeling.

She took a large book from her bag and sat down next to Richie. Several of the kids who were ambulatory gathered for the story. Those who weren’t able to join the group story patiently waited for her to read to them individually. Fortunately for her, there were only three currently bed-bound, and their beds were close enough together for her to read to all of them at the same time. She guessed this was cleverness on the part of the nurses.

It was almost two by the time she finished reading the story. She looked up to find Allen standing in the doorway with a big smile plastered on his face. “You should have had more children,” he said. “It suits you.”

Her smile dropped. “I couldn’t even care for the one God gave me. I don’t deserve another.”

He let the comment go. No amount of protest on his part was going to assuage her guilt. He walked over to her and held out his hands. “My turn kids,” he said, pulling her into a standing position and kissing her lightly on the lips. Several cries of, “Yucky,” followed by giggles escaped the mouths of the kids. Just for fun, he kissed her again. This time, she giggled.

“It’s meatloaf in the cafeteria. We’d better hurry before it’s all gone.”