A Second Helping (10 page)

 

The rest of Bernadine's morning was spent at the Power Plant and was fairly routine. She told Lily about the newcomers, and how Eli had been put in his place by Tamar, then asked her to check with the construction crews about how soon the Jameses would be able to move into the house being built for them.

Lily walked into Bernadine's office twenty minutes later with the update. “There's still some electrical and plumbing to take care of, and the interior finishes need to be completed. So another week to ten days.”

The house would be the newest addition to their small subdivision and was going up next door to the home shared by Lily and Devon.

“Okay, good. So did Rocky call you about the food she wants to send back to the grocery suppliers?”

“Not yet. I'm going to have lunch there this afternoon with Trent. I'll ask her about it, if I get a chance.”

“Were you friends with her in high school?”

“No, didn't know her that well. She was a couple years behind us if I remember right. I do know she was Old Man Dancer's daughter, though. He owned the garage where Trent and his buds used to hang and fix their cars.”

“Okay. Get with her when you can.”

“Will do.”

After Lily's departure, Bernadine sat back and wondered if maybe she'd misread Rocky yesterday. She could've sworn the woman was holding some type of grudge, but Lily didn't seem to know much about her, other than her parentage. Interesting, she thought.

Also interesting was the talk she'd had earlier with Trent about yesterday's video clip featuring Cletus's wedding. According to Trent, Sheriff Dalton had the matter well in hand. He'd made contact with the Texas authorities, and hoped to have the two fugitives extradited back to Kansas as soon as they were picked up. It pleased Bernadine to learn that Genevieve had been the one to drop the dime on Riley. With any luck, it would be the first of many daggers Genevieve would get to use to puncture Riley's no-good hide before the sheriff threw him in the pokey, and a pork manufacturer turned Cletus into hot links.

Going back to her laptop, she checked out tonight's town meeting agenda. She wanted to see if Lily or Trent had added anything new. It didn't appear so, which meant that naming the school continued to be the most important item. The ribbon-cutting ceremony was scheduled for Saturday morning and everyone was hoping they'd have something to call the place by the time this evening's meeting ended. When she first came to live in Henry Adams it took her a while to stop shaking her head each time she saw the words
Dog and Cow
on the faded, listing sign above the diner's door. She couldn't believe someone would actually name an establishment that, but after getting to know
the owner, she understood. Malachi's explanation of how the name came to be was tied to his having been a county veterinarian, with dogs and cows making up the bulk of his animal clientele. Add to that the fact that he'd been very heavy into alcohol back then, and you had everything you needed to know. Over time, Bernadine had come to enjoy the frivolity in the name, and in the man, but she had no intentions of letting Malachi July anywhere near the school-naming process.

She turned her attention back to the screen on her laptop. A few minutes later a soft knock on her opened door made her turn to see Sheila Payne standing there.

“Morning, Sheila. Come on in. You want coffee?”

“No thank you,” she said, entering fully. “Mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“No. What about?”

She took a seat. “I need to go away for a little while and sort some things out.”

Bernadine viewed her silently before asking, “Are you and the colonel having problems?”

“In a way, but it isn't anything that can't be fixed.”

“It isn't Preston, is it?”

“No. Definitely not. He's one of the reasons I need to do this so that I can be the best mother to him that I can be.”

“Then as his advocate, you need to tell me what's going on.”

So Sheila told her everything, from the affair to her melancholy to the conclusions she'd drawn last night while lying in bed. “I just want to take some time off to think.”

“How long?”

“A month. Six weeks. No more.”

“As a foster parent, that's a good chunk of time, Sheila.”

“I know, so my question is, will Preston have to be placed elsewhere if I do go? I think of him as my son now, Bernadine. I don't want to lose him.”

“Have you talked to your husband?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Preston's status first.”

“And you don't want a divorce.”

“I don't. I just want some time with me. That's all.”

Bernadine didn't think it an unreasonable request and was pleased that Sheila's first concern was the effect on Preston. Bernadine's biggest concern lay with how the colonel and the Brain would do without Sheila there as the buffer. “Do you think they'll be okay without you around to referee?” The two males seemed to tolerate each other, but there'd been very little real bonding that she could see.

“They're getting along better, I suppose, but if we're planning on being a family, the father and son need to be on the same page. My leaving may help facilitate that. Barrett's faults aside, he is a fine molder of young men.”

Bernadine considered that. She worried about Preston though. All the town's foster children had issues of one sort or another but Preston had opened himself up the least. She was aware that much of it had to with the fear of being disappointed. Kids like him kept their hearts closed because they were weary of all the broken promises. “Do you know where you want to go?”

“A nuns' house outside of Chicago.”

That surprised her. She thought maybe a friend's house, an old girlfriend's, but a nunnery?

“Visitors are allowed to retreat there and I think it will be perfect for what I need to do.”

“Okay. Discuss it with your husband and make sure you reassure Preston. I'll talk with them both as well.”

Sheila nodded. “Thanks, Bernadine.”

“You're welcome. Let me know if and when you plan on leaving.”

“Okay.”

Sheila departed and Bernadine was left to ponder their conversation. The colonel's adultery wasn't that shocking, but she was surprised by Sheila's plan of action because Sheila had never shown much spunk. Henry Adams had more than its share of strong women, and if you didn't speak up you could get blown over by all the sound and fury. Sheila was nice and dependable, even cracked a joke every now and again, but she rarely spoke up. Bernadine supposed that came from having grown up in a military family, where according to Sheila one was seen and not heard. Bernadine wasn't sure if a trip to a nunnery would help any of that, but she'd give Sheila her full support.

O
ver at the Dog, Rocky and her staff had just caught their breath from the morning's mad rush and were now making preparations for the lunch crowd. The new Dog and Cow was a hundred times busier than the old place and the need for someone to help her with the cooking was a given. One of the students on the waitstaff had volunteered to pitch in with breakfast, and proceeded to wow Rocky with his skillet skills and efficient handling of the orders. She was so impressed she planned to hire him but wanted Mal to meet him first. He was one of Florene's classmates. His name was Matt Burke.

“I'm eighteen, the youngest of three,” he explained as they all sat in Mal's office. “Been working at my parents' restaurant up in Decatur County all my life, and I love to cook.”

He went on to tell them of his goal to own his own five-star restaurant one day. “We don't have anything that's even two-star around here. That Italian place over
in Franklin was the closest to a nice place to eat, but they closed right after Christmas.”

Rocky's initial impression was that she liked him. She could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke about owning his own restaurant, and she liked his smile even though it was easy to see he was nervous as hell. She gave Malachi an approving nod before asking the young man, “Do you prefer Mathew or Matt?”

“I prefer Siz. It's short for Sizzle.”

She and Mal stared.

“It's what my family's always called me. My mom says when I was real little she'd have me in the kitchen in a high chair when she fired up the grills and skillets in the morning. Soon as they got hot enough and started to sizzle, I'd clap my hands and imitate the sound.” He gave them an example and they all grinned.

“How old were you?” Mal asked laughing.

“According to her, about a year. Been Sizzle ever since.”

“Great name for a cook,” Rocky told him.

“Gonna be an even greater name for a chef,” he boasted self-confidently.

Mal grinned. “I like your style, Chef Siz. Would you like to be Rocky's right-hand man? Job is yours if you want it.”

“Yeah! Thank you! Would you mind if I took a couple Saturday evenings off a month?”

“To do what?” Rocky asked curiously.

“I manage a band.”

“A band?” Mal asked dubiously. “What kind of band?”

“Jazz and blues mostly.”

Mal lit up with delight. “You're lying.”

He grinned. “No sir. It's called Kansas Bloody Kansas.”

“Kansas Bloody Kansas?” Rocky echoed, skepticism written all over her face.

“Yes, ma'am. Has to do with Kansas and the fight for slavery back in the day. We thought it'd be a cool name.”

She and Mal shared a look.
Lord.

They spent the next few minutes talking salary and other employment items like hours, holiday pay, and such, and when they were done, Siz shook their hands and hurried back to the kitchen.

“Nice young man,” Mal said once they were alone.

“I like him.”

“So, how's it feel to be back?”

“I hit the floor running, so haven't had time to think about it. Love the new place, like I said before. Real busy this morning.”

“Yeah. Lots more folks around to feed these days. No complaints from the populace about the service or the food this morning though, far as I know. Folks complained long and hard the week Florene was here.”

“I had a few people stop and thank me for coming back. It felt good.”

“Well, add my name to the list. Couldn't be happier having you here.”

“Thanks. I need to get to the kitchen. Lunch calls.”

“Let me know if you need more help. Got a stack of résumés from the culinary school you can go through.”

“Good to know.” She gave him a smile and left him alone.

 

Lily walked into the D&C for lunch and looked around the crowded, noise-filled diner for Trent's face. The jukebox was rocking “Flashlight” by George Clinton and his mother ship maniacs, and she unconsciously moved to the rhythm of the familiar tune as her eyes continued the search. She spotted him waving at her from a spot in the back. She gave him a nod, then threaded her way past crowded booths, tables, and wait people carrying trays loaded down with plates of food.

“Hey you.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Hey back. How'd the morning go?”

“No problems, so let's not jinx me by talking work. Look at all these people.”

“I know. The D&C is back.”

“I even saw some people from Franklin in here earlier. Word must have gotten around that Rocky's back.”

“Bernadine wanted me to talk to her about sending back some food. Not sure I remember what Rocky looks like, so if you see her would you point her out?”

He studied her for a moment.

“What?”

“You don't remember her?”

“Nope. She was, what, a sophomore our senior year? Senior girls don't pay attention to sophomores unless they're hitting on their boyfriend, and I didn't come to Henry Adams until high school, so I didn't go way back with her like maybe you did.” She immediately turned her attention to the menu printed out on yellow paper. “What am I going to have?”

He thought about that. He supposed she was right and turned his attention to the menu as well.

Waitress Kelly took their orders, and after her departure, he and Lily sat back and enjoyed the hustle and bustle and each other's company.

Trent was surprised to see Rocky coming their way bearing a loaded-down tray. Although he and Rocky had ended their intimate relationship, he was still a bit apprehensive that her meeting Lily might go sideways.

“Hey Trent,” Rocky said, placing a plate holding his order of fries and a big BLT in front him.

“Hey Rock. How are you?”

“Busy. Real busy. And how are you, Lily? Been a long time.” Lily's plate of salad was set down in front of her.

“Doing fine, Rocky. It has been a while.”

Rocky set down their two glasses of iced tea and added two straws. On the jukebox, Gladys Knight was singing “If I Was Your Woman” over the raised voices of the noisy crowd. “Anything else I can get for you two?”

“I'm good,” Trent replied.

“I think I am too,” Lily added, then said to her, “Bernadine said there was food in the freezers you wanted sent back?”

“Yeah, some of the stuff Florene ordered I'm not going to use.”

“E-mail me a list, or bring it by my office, and I'll see if I can't sweet-talk the suppliers into taking it back or making an exchange.”

“Sounds good. I'll start on it tonight after we close.”

“Okay.”

“Well, if you two are all set, I'll see you later.”

As she made her way back toward the kitchen, Lily
forked up some salad and asked the tea-drinking Trent, “So, how long were you two bed buddies?”

Trent spit tea across the table and coughed until he thought his eyeballs might burst. His fit was noticed by the people sitting nearby, and so Bing came over and slapped Trent on the back a few times. “You okay? You know we don't allow dying in the Dog.”

Trent gave him a look that drew a smile from the old farmer, who then went back to his seat.

Trent turned his attention back to Lily and finally said in a strangled-sounding voice, “That was so wrong, Lily Fontaine.” He wiped at his mouth with his napkin.

She offered him a smile and waited.

He eyed her. “On and off about six years.”

She shrugged. “Fine. That was before we hooked up again, so I have no problem with it.”

“That the truth?”

“You still have a thing for her?”

“No.”

“Then we're good.”

“Can I eat now?”

“Bon appétit.”

He grabbed the bottle of ketchup and doused his fries.

“I love you, Trenton.”

“Tell it to the marines.”

He looked up, met her eyes, and they both laughed.

 

Meanwhile, over at the Paynes' house, Sheila was dragging suitcases out of the closet while her marine colonel husband looked on with disapproval. “Where are you going, again?”

Sheila pulled another suitcase out of the closet and replied, “Chicago. I'm taking a vacation.”

“We just returned from vacation.”

“That was yours. This one will be mine. I'll be leaving in the morning.”

“Do you want a divorce?”

“No.”

“Then you are coming back?”

“Of course.” She set the largest suitcase on the bed and unzipped the sides and top so that it would open. Inside were two Florida postcards purchased during the reunion but never used. She set them aside on the bed. “Unless you prefer that I don't.”

His arms were tightly folded. “I prefer that you do.”

She searched his eyes. There was so much in her heart that she longed to say about all the things she wanted them to be, do, and share, but instead she said to him, “I talked with Bernadine and she sees no reason for this to affect Preston's status with us.”

Just as she said that, Preston appeared in the doorway. He studied the suitcases and then Sheila. He asked coldly, “You pulling those out for me, right?”

“No, Preston,” Sheila said softly. “I'm going on a vacation, that's all.”

“You two getting a divorce?”

Barrett glared, “Not your business.”

“The hell it's not,” Preston countered. “If you two split, I get screwed again!”

Sheila gasped. “Preston!”

He snapped his mouth shut, then mumbled, “Sorry,”
and left. The slam of his bedroom door shook the house.

“He needs to show more respect, Sheila.”

“Like the respect you showed me with that whore?”

Barrett's eyes widened.

“Yes, Barrett, I said
whore
. Shall I say it again?”

He stared at her as if he'd never seen her before.

“Go talk to Preston. I need to figure out what I'm going to be taking.”

Preston was seated on the edge of his bed when a knock sounded on his closed door. “Come in.” Seeing the colonel didn't help his sullen mood. “I suppose you want an apology?”

Barrett was still reeling from Sheila's temper.

Preston stared suspiciously at the look on the colonel's face. “What's wrong with you?”

“She just said the word
whore
.” His face was filled with both wonder and confusion.

“To you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why'd she call you a whore?”

“Not me. Marti,” he offered, only half aware that he'd answered aloud.

“That the nurse at the reunion?”

That got Barrett's full attention. “How'd you know?”

“The way she was all over you, Goofy could've figured that out.”

He went stock-still.

“You cheated on Mrs. Payne with a woman who still wears a Jheri curl? I didn't know they let you do crack in the marines.”

Barrett paused, stared, and then, unable to help himself, laughed. “They don't, but you couldn't tell it by me, huh?”

“She's hurting bad, isn't she?”

Barrett sobered and nodded. “I think so.”

“That why she's going away?”

Another nod.

“Did you ask her to stay?”

That tack had never occurred to him. “No.”

“Man.” Preston found that messed up, but he kept it to himself. “So, how long she gonna be gone?”

“A month, maybe six weeks.”

Six weeks!
Preston sighed. “You want me to move over to Amari's till she gets back?”

“Why?”

“So you don't have to put up with me.”

“You think I just put up with you?”

Unsure how to answer, Preston shrugged and replied, “We get along sometimes, but not like Amari and his dad.”

“I see.” And for maybe the first time, Barrett saw Preston for what he truly was—a boy in search of a father. Barrett hadn't had much of one either. The only affection Lamont Payne ever showed his wife and son, Barrett, involved beating them down with his fists. “I told you about my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“So it's not like I have a good example to draw from.”

“I know.” Preston had had his share of beatings in his life so he understood where the colonel was coming from, but he kept that to himself too.

As they both mined their thoughts, there was silence for a long moment until finally Barrett said, “If you want
to move to Amari's, that's up to you, but I'd prefer you stay here.”

Preston eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“I can't learn to be a good dad if my son's living next door.”

Preston wasn't sure how to take that either. “You saying that just because you're supposed to?”

“Preston, we may not know each other real well, but you know I don't say anything just because I'm supposed to.”

“Right.” Preston looked away.

“So, what do you think? Shall we try it?”

“Being son and dad?” Preston kept his excitement masked.

“Yes.”

He shrugged, saying emotionlessly, “Sure. Why not?”

“Such enthusiasm.”

“Never done this before. Don't want to invest in something that might not pay off.”

Barrett studied him. “I see.”

“It's the truth.”

“Appreciate that. But you are willing to try?”

“Yeah, if you are.”

“May not be easy.”

“I know. Especially with you being kind of a hard-ass.”

Barrett smiled. “And proud of it. Still want to try?”

Preston nodded.

Barrett stuck out his fist, and he and Preston bumped knuckles to seal their pact. “
Semper fi
.”

“What's it mean?”

“Always faithful. Be it to country, the corps, or family.”
Preston thought that over. He liked the sentiment, and although his life had never had any
Semper
or
fi
, he tapped his knuckles to the colonel's again, and echoed, “
Semper fi.
”