A Second Helping (3 page)

The interrupting voice made Bernadine look up to see Amari standing in the doorway. “Hold on a minute, Lily.”

She said to him, “Don't you see me on the phone?”

He looked down at his shoes. “Sorry.”

Bernadine spent a few more moments talking with Lily before ending the call. “Now, what can I do for you, Amari?” She stashed her Hermès bag in the bottom drawer of her desk and hung her coat on the coat tree nearby.

“First off, welcome home.”

“Thank you.”

“And second. Did you fire her?”

“No. She quit.”

“I'll take it.”

Bernadine hid her grin. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. How long do I have to wait before my dad can legally adopt me?”

She studied him for a moment. “Why?”

“I think I'm ready to be a July.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” There was pride all over his face.

“Have you and Trent discussed this?”

“Nope. Wanted to talk to you first, and then Tamar.”

“I see. Well, talk to Tamar and then all of us will get together.”

“Okay.”

“Did you enjoy your vacation?”

“I did. Never went hunting or fishing before. Like the fishing part. Not the hunting. Seen enough shooting. Dad tried to tell me it was different, but the only difference seemed to be that the stuff dying wasn't shooting back.”

Bernadine also hailed from Detroit. Granted, she and Amari had grown up at different times and the city had been safer during her residency, but she understood his aversion. “Trent was okay with you not wanting to hunt?”

“He was. You know, he's real cool. He's the kinda dad kids like me always imagine having, till you get too old, and realize it ain't never gonna happen.”

The confession tugged at her heart. “But it has happened,” she countered softly.

“Yeah, it has. Got me an O.G. too.” In the vernacular of the kids of the day, O.G. stood for Original Gangster but Amari used it as a term of endearment. Trent often teased that O.G. stood for Old Geezer.

“And Tamar?”

“Tamar's pretty great too, unless you make her mad.”

“Sometimes you don't get a second helping of life, Amari, but you have.”

“I know. Barely had a first helping, so this ain't bad, at all.”

She smiled. “I missed you.”

He squirmed like an eleven-year-old male. “Ah, Ms. Bernadine.”

“I did, Amari.”

He looked her in the eyes and admitted, “Missed you too. Guess this is what family's about, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Showing her his grin, he gave her a wave and left.

Chuckling, Bernadine started in on the mail.

 

As Amari climbed onto his bike and pedaled off to the rec to shoot some hoops, he wasn't sure what Tamar would think of his plans, but he knew her vote could make or break him. Even though she could be tough, he got the impression that she liked him. Hadn't she let him live after he stole Malachi's truck last summer? In fact, she hadn't said much at all about the incident. Which in a way sort of worried him because it would be just like her to be saving up the lecture so she could bring it up sometime in the future. All that aside, she was the most important person he needed to talk with about becoming a real, permanent member of the family, and there was no way getting around it. Without her approval, he might as well start packing for his next stop.

 

In Cleveland, Ohio, Ray Chambers was standing in line at Happy Hour Liquor to pay for a bottle of wine when an old acquaintance walked into the store. “Hey, Walt!” he called out. “That you?”

Walt Hurley stopped. When he recognized Ray, his face split into a wide grin. “Ray Chambers?”

Walt walked over and the two shared a quick grip. “Been a long time. You here visiting?”

“No. I'm back in town,” Ray said, holding his place in line. “At least for a little while.”

They spent a few moments catching up and then Ray asked, “When was the last time you saw Nikki?” She was Ray's ex and Walt's baby sister.

The people in line ahead of Ray moved up as customers paid for their purchases and departed.

“Not in a while, man,” Walt answered, sadness in his voice. “That crack got her, and she wound up in the joint in Illinois. Got HIV too. My sister Jean went to see her a few months ago. Said she doubted Nikki would make it to the summer.”

“That's rough. Sorry to hear it. She and I didn't get along at the end, but I wouldn't wish nothing like AIDS on her. That's too bad.”

“Yeah, but she told Jean she was going to die happy because she got to see her daughter Crystal back in the fall.”

“Crystal? My baby girl?”

“Yeah. Nikki told Jean that Crystal was set for life. Got some high-class, rich sister as her foster mother now.”

“Really? Did Jean say where they lived? CPS took Crystal from me and Nikki when she was little. Haven't seen her since.”

“Jean said something about Kansas.”

“Kansas?”

By then Ray was at the cashier. He handed the kid
behind the glass a twenty, and asked for five Easy Picks for the big Lotto draw tomorrow night. He turned back to Walt. “You think if I called Jean she might be able to tell me something more? Be nice to see Crystal. Let her know her daddy's been thinking about her all these years.”

Walt shrugged. “I don't know, man.”

The clerk handed Ray his change, the bagged wine, and the Lotto tickets. Ray reached in his pocket and took out a business card. “Here, give her this.”

Walt grinned. “Look at you. Business cards.”

“Yeah. Own a cleaning company. Doing pretty good too.”

“Okay. No guarantee she'll call you, though. You know how she felt about you when you and Nikki were together.”

“Tell her I've changed. Go to church now and everything.”

“You in church? Hell must be freezing over.”

They laughed, and after another short talk about back in the day, they promised to stay in touch and parted ways.

As Ray headed up the street to his apartment, he smiled. So his daughter Crystal was living large. He liked the sound of that, and would like it even more once he found out where they were. Yeah, Ray had changed, but only because he'd grown too old to pimp. Life had reduced him to a gigolo and he trolled for victims in the Black churches where he had his pick of lonely, single Black females with good jobs eager to pay his bills in exchange for his affections. Yeah, he'd changed, but as in nature, a leopard never changes his spots.

M
ost of the mail on Bernadine's desk pertained to the new school. Before going on vacation, Lily had e-mailed some requests for info on textbooks and other educational equipment. Apparently word had spread because in response Bernadine was looking at enough un-solicited catalogs to supply a school district the size of New York City's. Some specialized in school uniforms, others featured desks. There were big fat ones devoted to science labs. Five had glossy pictures of gym equipment, and in another stack were piled the ones pertaining to textbooks and teacher supplies.

By the time she opened the catalogs selling school buses, her head was spinning. A knock on her open door caused her to look up. Mayor Trent July stood on the threshold. She could've kissed him for offering her a distraction. “God, I'm glad to see you. All this mail's about to give me a stroke.”

Meeting her greeting with a smile reminiscent of his father, he took a look at her piled-high desk and cracked, “Welcome back.”

“Yeah right,” she tossed back in response to his obvious sarcasm, but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “How are you?”

“I'm fine. Thanks for bringing my Lily home in one piece.”

“Most welcome. She and Crystal had a great time. Have a seat and you can catch me up on what's been going on.”

He eased down into one of her fancy chairs and made himself comfortable. “Dad said Florene quit?”

“Yes.”

“In this economy, you don't want anybody to be without a job.”

“True, but she wasn't a good fit for our needs. Told us she wanted the freedom to run her kitchen. Emphasis on the
her
.”

“I'm sure you all set her straight.”

“We tried to do it gently, but she made it hard.”

“Do you have a replacement in mind?”

“I'd really like to give another student a chance, but after Florene, I'm a little gun-shy. What about this Rocky I keep hearing about? Folks keep telling me what a great cook she was.”

“She was, but she's in Boston taking some truck mechanic courses.”

“Truck mechanic?”

“Yeah. Her father used to own my garage. She grew up with a socket wrench in her hand. Working on big rigs is
right up her alley. Haven't talked to her in a few weeks, but we do keep in touch. I can give her a call, if you want.”

“Please.” Bernadine had yet to meet the legendary Rocky, but the more stories she heard, the more her curiosity was piqued. “If she says no, I'll talk to Florene's professor about hiring another student.”

“Hopefully one with a little less 'tude because we already have Crystal.”

Bernadine grinned. “True.”

“So what's with all the catalogs?”

“School stuff. Have you seen Marie today? I need to give them to her and let her head spin for a while. Also need to talk to her about the new teacher and when he's due to arrive.”

“She and Genevieve are in Vegas.”

Bernadine stared, dumbstruck. “Genevieve Curry went to Vegas?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yep. They'll be back tomorrow.”

Genevieve Curry had grown up with town schoolteacher Marie Jefferson, Clay Dobbs, and Malachi. She was quiet, reserved, and such a lady she still wore white cotton gloves to church. Her husband, Riley, disappeared last summer, along with his six-hundred-pound pet hog, Cletus, after Cletus caused the death of a human parasite named Morton Prell. All that aside, Genevieve being in Las Vegas was like finding the pope in a strip club, but the idea of it made Bernadine proud of her. “I hope she and Marie are having a good time.”

“Me too. She's earned it after what Riley and Cletus put her through.”

Bernadine agreed. Riley let Cletus move into the house, and it became so filthy the place had to be condemned and was razed. Now, because Genevieve had no home, she was temporarily living with Marie Jefferson and her mother, Agnes. “I wonder where they are?”

“Marie's got a favorite hotel—”

“No. Riley and Cletus.”

He shrugged. “You'd think it'd be hard for Riley to hide a hog that big for this long, but they've been on the lam for going on eight months now, and so far, no word or sightings. Sheriff Dalton's warrant is still out on them, though,” he added.

Bernadine shook her head. She'd had some real memorable experiences while living in Henry Adams, but the mess with Cletus and Riley and their involvement with Morton Prell's death had to be at the top of the list. As Amari said at the time, “Death by hog. That's wack.”

“I see your office is done,” she said, changing the subject.

“Yep. They finished the last of the interior details a few days ago.”

“So, when are you moving in?”

He responded with a slight squirm that reminded her of Amari's, so she asked cautiously, “What's the matter?”

“I don't need an office, Bernadine.”

“You're the mayor, Trent. Mayors have offices.”

“I know—”

“But?”

“Why can't I do what I do from the garage?”

“Because you can't hold business meetings in the garage.”

“Why not? It's worked okay up until now.”

She sat back and eyed him.

He grinned. “Uh oh. Here it comes.”

“Back in the day, when you and Tamar and the seniors ran things, meeting in the garage worked fine, but the town's too big now, or at least it will be. We're going to have new buildings to staff and maintain. We have construction projects going on, and we're doing business with partners from Hays to Miami. You can't be mayor in between fixing old cars.”

He sighed.

“And if you tell me you want to quit, don't even try it. You're the duly elected mayor and your citizens need you.”

“The guilt card. You need to quit hanging out with Tamar.”

“I always run with the best.”

“No appealing this to a higher court, I assume.”

She gave him that look again.

He grinned and threw up his hands. “Okay, I surrender. Let me finish up a few things at the garage, and I'll move in after that.”

Bernadine knew he was being purposefully vague, but she didn't call him on it. “That's fine. Did I mention the biggest benefit of all?”

“No.”

“Lily. Her office is right next door.”

“The dagger.”

Bernadine enjoyed Trent's friendship. Were it not for his engineering background, last fall's initial construction season might have run less smoothly. For a moment she debated telling him about her earlier visit from Amari, but decided against it. Amari said he had some things to work
out first. She'd let him tell Trent about his desire to become a full-fledged July when he felt ready. “If you need help unpacking or setting up, just let me know. Maybe I'll even ask Lily to help.”

He got to his feet and shook his head. “You're hard on a man, Bernadine Brown.”

“See you later, Mayor July.”

Chuckling, he exited.

On his way back to the garage, Trent put in a call to Rocky. Her real name was Rochelle Dancer and she'd always had a special place in his heart. The failure of her less-than-a-month-long marriage had sent her to the East Coast to try and sort out her life, but he missed her friendship almost as much as he missed her cooking. The call to her cell phone went through, but he got her voice mail. After leaving her a message to get in touch, he ended the call.

 

Down in Texas, Eustasia Pennymaker looked at the beautiful bride and handsome groom, and felt as giddy as if this were her own wedding. Holding the video cam to her eye, she said, “Turn for Mama, Chocolate, I want to get the full effect of the veil. Let's show the folks why I sent all the way to Vienna for that lace.”

Chocolate was a three-hundred-pound sow. She was dressed in a custom-made white silk gown complete with a lace-edged, two-foot train that matched the veil. Eustasia spent a few more minutes filming her baby, then turned the cam's lens on the groom, a six-hundred-pound hog named Cletus. Wearing Ray-Bans, he was outfitted in a black tux with a white insert and bow tie. When he stopped, seem
ingly to pose for her, Eustasia cooed, “You're a star, aren't you, big boy? Yes you are.”

Eustasia had sent out a slew of wedding invitations for the event, mostly to local politicians and the state's biggest hog farmers, but this prewedding video was destined for the Internet. She was sure it would be a sensation. “Riley?” she called out. “Any guests arrive yet?”

He was standing up on the huge deck anchored to the back of her Texas-sized mansion.

“Not yet, honey bun.”

She ran her eyes lovingly over the man she knew as Riley Baker. He was Cletus's owner, and had coordinated his outfit to match the hog's, even down to the Ray-Bans, which Eustasia found quite sexy. She'd met Riley and Cletus eight months ago in the parking lot of a McDonald's. After they moved in, Cletus took an instant liking to Chocolate and Chocolate to Cletus, so Eustasia knew it was going to be a match made in heaven. She and Riley were getting along like two hogs in a mud hole too. Life was good. She offered him up a wave and went back to shooting her video.

From his spot on the deck, Riley, whose real last name was Curry and not Baker, returned the wave and looked out at the crew of Mexican servants putting the finishing touches to what had to be the biggest bash he'd ever seen in his sixty-seven years of living. There were at least a hundred tables set out across the sprawling yard. Each wore a snow-white tablecloth draped with pink and brown silk ribbons. Chocolate's favorite colors, according to Eustasia. More pink and brown ribbons accented the white roses covering the pergola constructed especially for the grand occasion. The
wedding ceremony would be conducted beneath it, so rows of chairs for the guests fanned out around it.

Meeting Eustasia at that McDonald's last fall had been a godsend. Who wouldn't want to live in a mansion owned by a big, beautiful, redheaded Texas millionairess who loved hogs as much as he? She'd provided them everything from clothing to feed, opening not only her home and her barns, but her bedroom for hanky-panky activities Riley hadn't concerned himself with in years, so his life was good too. Up to a point.

He hadn't told Eustasia his real last name, or that he and Cletus were on the run because of the death of Morton Prell, a nasty old extortionist Cletus killed in self-defense. After the incident, the county took Cletus away and locked him up in an outdoor pen with the intent of holding a hearing to determine Cletus's fate. Riley knew they were going to put Cletus down, so one night, before the county paperwork could come through, he broke Cletus out, put him in the bed of his old white pickup, and left town. They'd been on the lam since.

As a result, he didn't like the idea of Eustasia filming the wedding and putting it on the Internet. Had he known about it earlier he might have hidden the camcorder or “accidentally” dropped the thing, so it wouldn't work. Now, however, he could only watch and worry. He didn't know much about cyberspace but he did know that millions of people around the world flocked to it like a religion, and he was scared that one of those millions would be someone with ties to the Kansas law enforcement agencies. He and Cletus had had a great time spending the winter with Eustasia, but all this publicity meant it was time to move on.
He had no clear idea where they'd go next, but he'd been thinking about heading across the south, maybe to Florida.

He watched Eustasia greeting the first of the guests. His disappearance would break her heart, Chocolate's too, because she and Cletus seemed genuinely in love. However, recapture wasn't something he and Cletus could afford, so it was imperative that they not stay in one place too long. Continued flight was all they had.

 

Amari enjoyed the communal dinners Ms. Bernadine was always arranging, and this evening they'd gathered at Tamar's to welcome everyone home from vacation. Amari had been so happy to see Preston he'd grabbed him like they'd been separated for years. “Missed you, my man.”

“Missed you too, dog. Looks like everybody's here,” Preston said.

“Yep.”

Ms. Lily was talking with Trent, Malachi, Bing, and Clay Dobbs. Preston's foster parents, Colonel Payne and his wife, Sheila, were on the far side of the room laughing at some story big-time singer Roni Garland was telling while her smiling husband, Dr. Reg, the town's pediatrician, looked on. Ms. Agnes was bending Ms. Bernadine's ear about lord only knew what. Ms. Agnes was still in her right mind but she was approaching ninety years old.

Amari asked, “You say hello to Crystal yet?”

“Nope.”

“Me either. Guess we have to bite the bullet, huh?”

“I guess,” Preston replied skeptically.

Crystal was seated on the couch with Zoey, the Gar
lands' seven-year-old mute foster daughter, and Devon Watkins, Zoey's best friend. Devon was decked out in yet another suit.

Preston shook his head at the little boy's formal attire. “When is he going to stop dressing like the president?”

Amari grinned and shrugged.

The two of them walked up just as Zoey was showing Crystal the new Barbie she'd gotten in New York. The doll was wearing all green, from the top of her fly hat to the bottom of her peep-toe heels.

“Zo, aren't you tired of all this green?” Crystal was asking her. “You really need to get a new color.”

Zoey shook her head. Green was the color of her late mother's eyes, so it was her favorite. It was also the color of the Disney Princess tee she was wearing with her belted black jeans.

Crystal told her, “You're going to get so fixated, Ms. Bernadine's going to have to call in Dr. Phil.”

Zoey smiled at Crystal's teasing and shrugged as if to say she didn't care.

Crystal handed the doll back. “Okay. Do you, girl, but I'll tell Ms. Bernadine to put Dr. Phil on speed dial, just in case.”