Something Old, Something New (14 page)

S
aturday morning, Paula was having coffee at the small table in her new kitchen when the melodic notes of a flute drifted like a breeze through her open screen door. With every rise and fall of the intricately fingered music the talent of the flutist was apparent. At first the measures were slow and filled with such mournful tones, the instrument seemed to weep. Paula heard pain, grief, longing. The emotion made her want to hold the flutist close to her heart and help bear the burden of such deep sadness. But even in pain there is sometimes beauty, and in this case that beauty was the musician's pure skill. Each note was distinctive and filled with both vibrancy and life. Whoever was playing had the technique of a virtuoso.

As the music continued, Paula's curiosity got the better of her, so she got to her feet. She'd met her nearest neighbors, the Clarks, Jack and Eli, and the Pam Grier clone, Ms. Rocky Dancer, but had yet to meet the mayor's grandmother. She wondered if the music was coming from her house.

Outside, the music was now rising as sweet and as bright as the morning's sunlight. Paula gauged the direction from where it was flowing and set out.

It was Rocky. She was seated on the metal steps of her trailer. Upon noticing Paula, she slowly removed the silver flute from her lips. “Morning, Reverend.”

“Good morning. You play beautifully.”

“Thanks. Do you need something?”

Paula shook her head. “Just wanted to see where the music was coming from.”

Rocky looked slightly embarrassed. “I don't play much anymore, but woke up this morning with the urge inside. Trent used to play once upon a time, too, but I'll bet he doesn't even know where his flute is.”

“Feel free to start my morning with your playing whenever you like. I felt like I was at a concert.” She wanted to ask about the pain she'd heard threaded into the music but didn't know Rocky well enough to inquire without coming off as nosy or rude, or both.

“How long have you been a reverend?”

“Going on fifteen years.”

“And before that?”

“I had a child psychology practice in Atlanta.”

“Ah,” she voiced quietly. “Are you going to help out our kids?”

“If they need it, and will let me.”

“Oh, they need it, believe me, and so do many of the adults.”

A few yards away, Jack and Eli James exited their trailer. Eli waved, and Jack called out, “Morning, Reverend. Hey, Rock.”

Rocky waved. Paula did, too, but she noticed the way Rocky's eyes followed them as they walked to their car and drove away. “Are they good neighbors?”

The question seemed to drag Rocky's attention back to the present. “Yeah, they are. Have you ever been married?”

Paula was caught off guard by the abrupt off-topic question. “No. You?”

“Once for a hot minute, and I swore off men big-time after the divorce.”

“But now?”

Rocky smiled. “How do you know there is a but now?”

“I've been in the psychology business and the God business long enough to know that there's always a but now. So?”

For a moment Rocky appeared to be gathering what she wanted to say. “There's a guy, and he's a really nice guy, and I could probably fall for him forever and forever, amen.”

“Then what's the problem? He isn't married, is he?”

“No. The problem is me. Scared of getting my heart broken again.”

“Does he impress you as being a heartbreaker?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you think he could make you happy?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. He's a widower, and I don't want to be the woman he's picking up on the rebound.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Not sure if he's really serious about me, or just looking for somebody to replace his wife.”

“Have you talked with him about this?”

“No. I'm trying not to talk to him at all.”

The amusement in her eyes made Paula laugh. “Don't block your blessings, girl.”

“I know, but easier said than done.”

“Has he asked you out?”

“All day, every day.”

“If you keep hiding, how will you ever learn the truth? Life's too short not to embrace the things that could bring us joy.”

“I know that, too, but it's easier to keep saying no. That way I don't get hurt.”

“No pain, no gain, though, right?”

Rocky cocked her head. “Since when do reverends say ‘No pain, no gain'?”

Paula chuckled. “Would you prefer ‘No guts, no glory'?”

“I think you're going to fit in well here.”

“I'm hoping to. And I think you should go out with this mystery man of yours and see where it leads. Nothing worse than being old and gray and filled with what-ifs. Life has sorrow, but it can potentially hold solace and love as well, and if this man can bring you those things . . . ?” She left the question open-ended. She'd heard the longing in Rocky's music. Solace and love were needed. “Just something to consider.”

“Okay.”

They were interrupted by the sound of a car's horn. They turned and saw an old but shiny green pickup truck bumping across the grass in their direction. Rocky asked, “Have you met Tamar?”

“No, I haven't.”

“Then today's your lucky day.”

The woman who exited the truck was tall, dark-skinned, and bore an amazing resemblance to the July men Paula had already met. The black-and-red caftan flowing around her like an African robe was shot through with silver swirls that matched the color of her flowing hair. In her ears were large silver hoops, and a multitude of bracelets graced her wrists. She was a beautiful woman. She was also wearing combat boots that hadn't been new in probably decades.

Rocky made the introductions.

“Pleased to meet you,” Tamar said. “I came to see if you'd like to do a little bit of running with me today. There's also some people I want you to meet and a few places you need to see if you're going to be living here.”

Paula had no plans for the day. “I'd like that.”

Rocky said to Tamar, “You've been scarce since the funeral. We've been worried about you. You okay?”

Tamar nodded. “I'm getting there. I heard you playing a little while ago, so I came to make sure you were okay. I know today's Deborah's birthday.”

Apparently Tamar had heard the pain, too, Paula mused, and she wondered who Deborah might be.

In response to Tamar's words, a mask slid down over Rocky's features. “I'm okay” was all she would say.

Tamar didn't press for more, but said gently, “Just checking.” She then turned to Paula. “Reverend, you ready to roll?”

“Let me grab my purse. Be right back.”

A few minutes later Paula was in the passenger seat. As Tamar turned the key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to life, Rocky grinned and called, “Reverend, make sure you got on your seat belt.”

Tamar leaned her head out her window and called back with a laugh, “Hater!”

A confused Paula had no idea what Rocky meant, but when Tamar drove out to the dirt road and the truck began traveling at a speed faster than light, Paula understood, held on for dear life, and prayed.

Chapter 13

L
ily had a decision to make. Devon was supposed to be spending the afternoon and some of the evening watching the baseball playoffs with Mal, but Devon was still on punishment and technically couldn't watch TV. He also hadn't as of yet produced the three-page letter of apology he was supposed to write to Zoey, and Lily knew she'd erred in not setting a deadline for it to be done. She wanted to encourage the bonding Mal was trying to forge with his soon-to-be grandson, but on the other hand, she didn't want to say yes, Devon could go, and have him think he'd gotten around her edict. She'd talked to Trent about her dilemma last night when he returned from checking on Tamar, and he'd agreed with her on both sides of the issue. In the end, though, he left the final decision up to her, saying he'd support her either way.

Devon came down to breakfast a short while later, and to her surprise handed her three sheets of lined paper. “It's my apology to Zoey.”

She read what he'd written. On all three pages, front and back, he'd written,
I'm sorry Zoey
. And that was it. He'd written the words in cursive, and his small handwriting filled the pages. When she met his eyes, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. In the past few weeks he'd learned to mask himself pretty well. However, this was not what she'd asked him to do, and they both knew it.

“So can I go watch baseball with Mr. Mal now?” he asked.

Lily was admittedly tired of being a hard-ass. She decided to relent, but only up to a point. “Yes, but once you come home, you're back on lockdown until Zoey gets back from New York and you can give this to her.”

That drew a pout that he quickly covered up.

“And I expect you to be more charitable to her and everyone else in the future. You weren't very nice to the reverend yesterday.”

He didn't respond to that but did say, “Thank you for letting me watch baseball, Ms. Lily.”

The tone lacked the sincerity she was accustomed to hearing from him. As his foster mom, that saddened her. She wanted her baby boy back, but it appeared as if that child and those days were gone, so she had to go with what she had. She picked up her phone and punched up Mal's number before handing the phone to Devon. “When Mr. Mal answers, ask him what time he'll be by to pick you up.”

She took a moment to unload the dishwasher while the two made their arrangements and heard Devon say, “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Mal.”

Devon handed the phone back to Lily. “He said noon.”

“Then we'll have you ready.”

Meanwhile, Trent and Amari were at the garage working on Bing's old T-Bird. The original engine was shot, and while Trent worked on replacing it, Amari handed him the tools he needed like a nurse assisting a surgeon.

“Let me have the caliper.”

Amari handed it over. “Are you and Mom going to adopt Devon, too?”

“She and I haven't talked about it, but I'm pretty sure we will. Why?”

“He's such a dork.”

Trent looked up. “That's kind of harsh.”

“Sometimes the truth is.”

Trent resumed his task. “Suppose I'd applied that standard to you?”

“I'm not a dork.”

“No, but you were a car thief, and cursed like the proverbial sailor. Not exactly a poster child for exemplary behavior.”

Amari met Trent's eyes sheepishly. “Oh.”

Trent paused for a moment to let that sink in before saying, “Devon's going through some things right now, and as his family we have to be there for him, regardless of how we feel about his personality.”

“But he's never going to be a July.”

“When you had the whole town hauled into court, I had misgivings about you, too.”

Amari looked away.

Trent softened his tone. “You have a big heart, Amari. Use it to help your brother. He may not know it at the moment, but he needs you, okay?”

“If you say so,” Amari replied grudgingly.

“Hand me that socket wrench. We're supposed to meet up with him and Dad at noon to watch the games. And so you'll know, on Wednesday you'll be missing school so we can go see the judge and sign the papers finalizing your adoption.”

Trent saw the elation on Amari's face but was pretty sure missing school was a part of it.

“Will we have to go before that old mean Judge O'Hara?”

“No. He's retired. We'll be going before Judge Davis.”

O'Hara had been the judge originally assigned to the case involving Amari, Crystal, Preston, and Mal's stolen Ford. When O'Hara tripped and fell and had to be carried out of the courtroom on a stretcher, Judge Amy Davis replaced him and settled the mess to everyone's satisfaction.

“I wonder if she'll remember me.”

Trent chuckled. “I'm sure she will, son. You're the most memorable kid anybody around here has ever met.”

Amari beamed.

Trent held his hand out for the next tool. Amari passed it to him, and Trent asked about something else he had on his mind. “How're Brain and the colonel doing?”

Amari shrugged. “Better, I guess. Preston said they're back to playing chess, and that the colonel's been calmer about the whole birth parent search, but Mrs. Payne has been at her new office a lot. Brain thinks the colonel's lonely.”

Trent found that surprising. “Really?”

“He says the colonel asks her every morning what time she's coming home, and every morning she tells him, ‘At the end of the day.' She told Brain that her answer is the same answer the colonel used to give her when he was working with the marines.”

“Sounds like payback.”

“Pretty much.”

Trent wondered how often the two friends discussed his relationship with Lily and decided that maybe he'd rather not know. “Okay, let's test these pistons.”

P
aula had gone through a number of the many prayers she knew by the time Tamar brought the truck named Olivia to a halt beside an open field. In the warp-speed journey to wherever they were now, they'd made so many twists and turns, some on two wheels, that Paula prayed yet again that her heart would survive the trip back to the trailer. Rocky had been right: tightly buckled seat belts were a necessity.

Tamar glanced over. “You okay, Reverend?”

“I think I may have wet my pants on that last two-wheel turn, but other than that, I'm good.”

Tamar's eyes were gleaming. “I like you.”

Paula was glad to hear that. She wasn't sure she could walk at the moment, but Tamar's approval meant a great deal. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who is Deborah? Rocky's music this morning was almost heartbreaking.”

“Deborah was her mom. She committed suicide when Rocky was nine.”

Paula understood now.

“Come. I want to show you this.”

Paula exited the truck and followed Tamar out into the field.

“This is our cemetery. The county plans to bulldoze it next summer.”

Stricken by the news, Paula asked, “Are you trying to stop them?”

“Bernadine's lawyers are fighting back with everything they have, but this is county land, so we're not holding out much hope. Ideally, they'd let us inter the remains elsewhere, but the Health Department is saying the remains may be too old, there may be the danger of disease, etcetera, etcetera.”

Paula shook her head sadly.

“We'll see what happens.”

For the next hour, Paula accompanied Tamar through the overgrown field and listened as she told the stories of the Henry Adams and July ancestors buried there. Paula found the tales of the July outlaws particularly interesting, especially the men Tamar called the Terrible Twins.

“My grandfather Neil and his twin brother, Two Shafts, had different mothers but the same father, and they were born on the same day. Shafts's mother was Comanche.”

“So in a way they were twins. Why was he called Two Shafts?”

“During an archery competition when he was young he hit the bull's-eye with two arrows. He was so accurate, the second arrow split the first one right down the middle.”

Paula was impressed. “Does he have descendants in town, too?”

“Never married. Said he didn't want to father children who could not be free to be Comanche. He suffered a lot after being taken from his parents and sent to one of the so-called civilizing schools. The people in charge cut off the braids of the male children, put the hair in the center of the field, and made the kids watch as it was burned. He never forgot that. He was living alone in the mountains of Arizona when he died in 1910. His July brothers brought the body here and buried him.”

“How did they know he'd passed on? Did someone write to them?”

“No. Tamar, my great-great-grandmother, came to Neil and my aunt Teresa in their dreams and told them. She is known to walk in the dreams of her kin. Even today.”

Paula wondered if this Tamar was all there.

As if sensing Paula's skepticism, Tamar pinned her with her hawklike gaze. “You'll find many wonders here, Reverend. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.”

The frozen Paula nodded quickly.

That proved to be valuable advice later on that morning when Tamar drove her to meet Marie Jefferson and Genevieve Curry, and Paula heard the jaw-dropping story of Cletus the hog, his role in the destruction of Genevieve's home, and the death of a man named Morton Prell.

A
fter Mal drove over and picked up Devon, Sheila Payne paid Lily a visit.

“I have a few invitation mock-ups I want you to choose from.”

Once they were seated in the kitchen, Sheila rifled through her stylish new black satchel and handed Lily the invitations. There were three different versions, and they were all nice—not too frilly or pretentious.

“Crystal designed them,” Sheila revealed.

That made Lily appreciate them even more. She decided on the one she liked best, and Sheila agreed. “That one was my choice, too. Crystal did an outstanding job.”

“Yes, she did. I'll have to thank her.”

“She wanted to do them for free, but I made her charge me. I thought she should be paid for the beautiful work. She can also add the design to her portfolio for the art schools she's going to be applying to, and let them know the invitations were commissioned.”

“Good idea.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about the invitations, and then Sheila asked, “Have you been looking for a suit?”

Lily couldn't lie. “I haven't had the time.”

Sheila didn't fuss, but the look on her face spoke volumes.

“Okay, okay. I'll start looking.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“And get something gorgeous—not just any suit that will do.”

“Yes, Sheila,” Lily said in mock surrender. “You're not supposed to know me that well.”

Sheila shot her a smile and glanced at her notes. “I've talked with Rocky about the food, and Reverend Grant said she'd be honored to perform the ceremony.”

“I owe her a thank-you, too.”

“Lastly, Bernadine has instructed me to tell you that she will be paying for the honeymoon.”

Lily stilled and waited for the proverbial other shoe to drop. “Where is she sending us?”

“That is a surprise,” she replied. “But she says the weather will be warm, the reservation is set for a week, and she will be handling the flight plans.”

Lily shook her head at Bernadine's behind-the-back maneuvering.

“I'm also instructed to warn you that should you refuse her wedding gift, you will have to meet her in a cage match.”

Lily howled with laughter.

A smiling Sheila stuck her notes back into her bag.

With the business completed, they had some coffee and kicked back. Lily asked, “So how's the colonel?”

Sheila paused over her cup. “A bit confused, I believe.”

“By what?”

“Everything. My job. Preston and his search. The idea of having to cook dinner for himself.”

“But you're only working part-time. Why is he cooking dinner? Is he helping out?”

“Nope. He's cooking because a few days last week, I didn't get home until after seven.”

“Why not?”

“Because I chose not to. I sat in my office and caught up on some of my reading, looked over china patterns on the Internet. Mostly I just relaxed. This being a working woman is a wonderful thing.”

Lily saw the mischief in Sheila's eyes. “You know you're wrong, right?”

“No, I'm not. I've catered to him since the day we met. This job's helping me grow up and making him do the same.”

“What about Preston?”

“He's my cheerleader. He told me when I want to stay late, I'm not to worry about him eating because he cooked for himself a lot in foster care. He makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”

That made Lily smile. “He should also know that I'll feed him any time he wants.”

“I believe he knows that, but I'll make sure.”

“Good.”

“Would you do me another favor?”

“I can certainly try.”

“Have Trent and the other dads see if they can't come up with something for Barrett to do with his time. There has to be a way for him to give back to the community that doesn't involve ordering people around.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Not yet, but Barrett's a good man. The problem is, the marines have spoiled him, and so have I. It may take a while to undo all that damage.”

“I'll run your idea by Trent.”

“Thanks.”

After Sheila's departure, Lily picked up her phone. She hadn't talked to her son, Davis, in over a week, and she wanted to check in. The call went through, but instead of it being answered by his familiar and sunny “Hey, Mom,” she heard instead a female voice ask angrily, “Who is this!”

Taken aback, Lily looked at the display on the phone and, upon determining she hadn't misdialed, replied, “This is Lily Fontaine, and you are?”