For Your Love (13 page)

The twins were in their jumper chairs watching a
Sesame Street
video while she and Kelly discussed the salon Kelly wanted to open. They discussed how many stations she might need, and what type of equipment. Bernadine was impressed with how clear and concise the young woman's ideas were on everything. It was apparent she'd been thinking of opening her own salon for some time. She was also licensed.

“You'll have to make some calls to see whether the license is transferable,” Bernadine pointed out. “Lily can help you get with the right agencies if you get stuck.”

“I should probably be able to do that on my own.”

“Can you use a computer?”

“No.”

“We'll get you some training. You have your high school degree?”

Another no, and an explanation. “I dropped out when I was sixteen, and after I had the babies, there was no time to go back and finish.”

“I'm not judging, but you'll need to have your GED before I'll even think about giving you the opportunity to be the owner.”

“I understand.”

“You're going to need some business classes along the way, too. The community college has some great programs. Once you get your GED, I'll have you sit down with Jack James, and the two of you can come up with a plan.”

“Thinking about going back to school is scary.”

“No scarier than trying to run a business without the proper business skills.”

“You're right.”

Bernadine took in the twins responding happily to Big Bird singing. “We may need some day care for them, too.”

“I know. I had a chance to talk to Leah after the town meeting. She offered to babysit when she could, but she thought she might need some kind of training. And of course Ms. Genevieve offered to watch them whenever I needed help.”

“Leah's in school during the day, so Genevieve will probably be a better fit, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I'll check on some training for Leah. I assume you want to begin as soon as possible? I know the ladies want you to.”

“I do.”

“See about the license, and we'll go from there.”

Bernadine glanced around at the house. There were a few dishes on the counter and a few baby toys scattered around the floor, but other than that the place was as spotless as it had been the day they moved in. “Christmas will be here soon. You and Bobby need to get a tree.”

“That isn't necessary. The babies don't know anything about the holidays.”

“This is your first Christmas in your new place and in your new life. I'll send somebody over with a tree, and sometime this week I'll get Tamar or someone to take you shopping for ornaments.”

“But—­”

“Kelly. Just say yes.”

She dropped her head. “Okay. Yes.”

“And I'll have Lily order you a laptop.”

Kelly opened her mouth as if to protest, but Bernadine shot her a look, and she closed it. “Crystal can come by after school and get you going on the computer. If you know how to work your phone, getting up to speed on the computer won't be that hard.” She eyed the young woman. “Do you have any concerns, need anything else?”

“No, ma'am. We're all straight.”

“Okay, then let me get going.”

Kelly walked her to the door. “My mother said Bobby and I would never have a good life. I think we're going to prove her wrong.”

“I think you're right. Call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Over at the school, Amari was trying to work up the courage to do what Brain had suggested and ask Kyra to sit with him at the movies Friday night. He'd snuck glances at her all morning and caught her sneaking looks at him a ­couple of times too, but still he worried. He didn't want to ask her and have her say no, but whatever was going on inside him seemed to have a mind of its own. It kept whispering
Ask her, ask her,
to the point where he wanted to yell,
Shut up!

After lunch, as they were walking back to the classroom, he couldn't stand it any longer. He called out, “Hey, Kyra. Wait up. Need to talk to you a minute.”

He watched Leah and Brain pass a look between them, but they kept walking, giving him the privacy and space he needed.

She stopped. “Yes?”

He almost bailed, but pressed on. Praying his voice didn't crack, he asked, “Do you want to sit together at the movies Friday night?”

She looked off for a moment, then back at him, and said more words than he'd ever heard her say before. “I like you, Amari—­I really like you. You're cute and you're funny and nice, but boys are a distraction, and I can't be distracted if I want to grow up and be a thoracic surgeon. Okay? Thanks for asking, though.”

Stunned, he stared. He didn't even know what a thoracic surgeon was. He looked down at his Timbs, drew in a breath, and cursed himself for being so damn stupid. “Sure, Kyra. You . . .  um . . . stick to studying.”

In the classroom, Brain met his eye expectantly. Amari responded with a quick negative shake of his head and took his seat. Leah must've seen it too. Looking shocked, she stared at Kyra, who had her head in her book.

“Let's open our math books,” Mr. James announced, so Amari did.

Lying on his bed after school, solemnly tossing a Nerf football in the air, Amari felt stupid and, yeah, sad. He'd taken a chance and put himself out there, and Kyra Jones had chopped him off at the knees. He hated girls.

His mom stuck her head in the door. “Hey. How'd your day go?”

He shrugged. “It was okay.”

“You look a little beat down, baby.”

“I'm good,” he lied.

She said nothing for a moment, and then came in and sat on the edge of bed. “So how's your quest to win the hand of the fair Kyra going?”

He studied her for a moment. “Did Dad tell you?”

“No, I figured it out on my own. It's one of my mom super­powers.”

He cracked a smile. “I don't even know if it's worth your time.”

“Helping you figure stuff out is always worth my time, so shoot.”

“Okay, so I know I'm not old enough to go out on like a real date, but Brain suggested I ask her to sit with me at the movies.”

“And?”

“She crushed me like a bug on the sidewalk. She was nice about it and everything. Said she liked me, thought I was cute, but basically boys were a distraction. She wants to be a thoracic surgeon, and I guess the two don't go together.”

“Hurt your feelings, huh?”

He nodded.

“I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt.”

“Me, too.”

“I don't think I've heard of a fourteen-­year-­old who didn't have time for boys, but I suppose that's better than being so boy-­crazy she can't think straight. There are enough of those in the world already. Tell you what, don't be too down on yourself. Somewhere in your future is the girl you've been looking for. You're cute, funny, and smart in ways that a lot of boys your age aren't.”

“That's what she said, except for the smart part. I had to come home and Google what a thoracic surgeon was.”

“And?”

“It's a medical doctor who operates on the heart, lungs, esophagus, and other organs of the chest.”

“Thanks. I learned something today.”

“You're welcome.”

“Unfortunately this won't be the only heartache you'll have before that really special girl shows up; life always sends us more than one.”

“Great.”

She leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. “You'll be okay. Might take a minute or three. You never know, she might just change her mind.”

“Thanks, Mom. You and Dad make an awesome parenting team.”

“We're learning as we go.”

“What's he cooking for dinner?”

“I believe catfish, sweet potatoes, and steamed broccoli. His favorites.”

“Mine, too. Tell him to cook extra.”

“Will do. Get your homework done, and I'll call you when dinner's ready.”

Alone again, Amari didn't feel a whole lot better, but at least he knew he would live.

Downstairs, Trent looked up from the seasoned cornmeal he was dredging a filet in. “Amari okay?”

“Kyra stepped on his heart.” She told him the story.

“A distraction?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“I thought so, too.”

Devon came into the kitchen and asked, “When are we going to put up the Christmas tree?”

“Saturday,” Trent told him.

“This Saturday?”

“Yes.

“Are we going Christmas shopping, too?”

“Yes. Christmas shopping, too.”

“Yes!” he said, executing an exaggerated fist pump.

During their first Christmas as a blended family, they'd gone to the mall, done their shopping, had lunch, and then come home and put up their tree. Trent and Lily decided to make that a tradition. Having grown up in foster care, Amari had never experienced the excitement tied to the holiday. Devon said he and his grandmother used a small tabletop tree she'd found at the Goodwill. Trent assumed that was because money had been tight.

Trent and Lily had both grown up with all the excitement and holiness of the season, and they wanted to make memories for their sons, so the shopping and the tree had become the first of their family traditions.

“What do you want for Christmas, Mom?”

“I don't know, Devon, whatever you get me will be fine. But there is something special I want you to do.”

“What?”

“After we put up the tree, I want you to read the Christmas story from Luke.”

“In the Bible.”

“Yes. I'm making it a July family tradition. That okay with you?”

Trent's heart swelled. His Lily Flower was so awesome.

“Yeah, Mom, that's way okay.” Devon rushed over, gave her a big hug, and whispered, “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome. Now go tell Amari it's time to eat. Then the two of you get the table set.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He looked to be the happiest boy on the planet when he hurried out of the kitchen.

“You rock, baby doll,” Trent told her. “What a great idea.”

“Thanks. My mama used to say, ‘Jesus is the reason for the season,' and we need to be reminded of that. This way our kids always will be.”

 

F
riday morning, Bernadine pulled into the lot of the Power Plant and wondered why there were so many vehicles there. Usually she was the first to arrive, but these cars and trucks were idling with their engines running, and their drivers were inside. Perplexed, she got out of her truck. The moment her boots made contact with the salted, snow-­cleared pavement, vehicle doors swung open and men piled out and began to approach. Alarmed, she fumbled for her phone, intending to call for backup, but upon seeing Lyman Proctor, the grizzled president of the Franklin Chamber of Commerce, she relaxed. “Morning, Mr. Proctor. You scared me there for a minute.”

“Morning, Ms. Brown. Sorry to alarm you, but we need to speak with you.”

She glanced around at the stern faces of the group accompanying him and realized some were familiar. The temperature was twenty-­five degrees, and the wind was blowing. Way too cold to discuss anything outside. “Okay. Come on in.”

She unlocked the door. One of the men politely held it open to let her enter first, and she thanked him, all the while wondering if this meeting had anything to do with their crazy-­as-­a-­bedbug mayor.

Inside, as the men removed their coats and took seats, she sent a text to Trent, asking that he come to the office immediately. She had a feeling he'd be needed. While she waited for her Keurig to do its thing so she could have coffee, she asked Mr. Proctor, “What's this about?”

“Astrid.”

Her assumption had been correct. “She's your mayor, Mr. Proctor. I can't see how I can help.”

“We want to move our businesses to Henry Adams.”

Stunned by that, she took in the determination in their faces. That she was momentarily at a loss for words was an understatement.

Proctor said gently, “Let me make the introductions first, just in case there's someone here you don't know.”

“Go right ahead. Anyone want coffee?”

As she handed out cups of brew, he began. In response to the names, she nodded at the town pharmacist, the grocery store manager, the owner of a gravel-­hauling operation, and a short, smiling man who ran the coffee shop. She already knew Arnold Katzman, who, with his wife Emma, co-­owned Franklin Flowers. He toasted her with his cup. “Great coffee, Ms. Brown.”

“Thanks.”

One guy owned the tire repair shop, another a sporting goods store. All in all, they represented a cross-­section of the Franklin business community.

“Not everyone interested could make it here this morning, Ms. Brown,” Mr. Proctor explained, “but there are more.”

Just then, Trent, Lily, and Bobby arrived.

“Morning, Bernadine, Lyman,” said Trent.

Proctor responded, “Trent, Ms. Lily. Good morning.”

Trent introduced Bobby and then asked, “What have we missed?”

“We're just getting started,” she assured them. “Go ahead, Mr. Proctor.”

He began with a litany of complaints about ser­vices being cut, forced evictions, and just plain old meanness on Astrid's part. He informed her that every firefighter on the force had quit in response to the treatment of Luis Acosta, so there was no longer a department. The community was up in arms about the library being closed more hours than it was open. Businesses had been hit with a new surtax so outrageous, it threatened their meager profits and livelihood. Rents were going up, as were loan payments taken out on farm equipment, vehicles, and building improvements. “When Astrid gets done, there won't be a town, so we want to move here. She may own our buildings and the land beneath them, but we own our inventory.”

Bernadine looked to Trent and received a shrug. She still had no idea how to deal with this aside from saying yes, but that would open the floodgates to problems that made her head hurt just thinking about them. “Astrid's been mayor less than a month—­maybe she'll come to her senses. Is there someone advising her that you all can have a sit-­down with?”

The men shared a look. Proctor said, “I don't want to tell tales out of school, but her closest adviser is her bed buddy, Meryl Wingo.”

“The high school principal!” Bernadine squawked.

Proctor nodded. “The married-­with-­five-­children high school principal.”

“Wow!” Lily said softly.

The tire repair store owner, Ethan Wells, added, “They've been close for years.”

Bernadine was blown away. After gathering herself, she said, “Gentlemen, we've talked about expanding Henry Adams, but we can't accommodate all of you so quickly. Am I to assume you'll all need a place to live, too?”

Proctor nodded. “She'll evict us first thing.”

“We won't have anyplace to house you until maybe next fall. And how do you plan to pay for the move, get your buildings constructed, and all the rest?”

“We're offering to put up our inventories as collateral, and some of us have savings. We're hoping you can point us to a banker who'd consider lending to us.”

Bernadine knew no bankers taking flowers, tires, or coffee machines as collateral for business loans. She would give Tina Craig, her financial adviser, a call and ask, though. “Does Astrid know you're considering this?”

“As far as we know, no. At least not yet, but she will eventually.”

“So if she finds out you met with me and why, and decides to evict you all at, say, noon today, what are you going to do?”

Proctor shrugged. “Do our best to survive until the spring. Somewhere. I own a lumberyard—­things are pretty slow for me in the winter anyway.”

Bernadine sighed. She really wanted to help them, but she faced a dilemma. Could she, and would it be wise? As she'd said, Henry Adams was looking to expand, but not overnight. Either way, Astrid was going to throw a fit, and Bernadine had no desire to spend the Christmas season battling the devil.

“So give me a rough estimate on how many businesses are looking to relocate,” said Trent.

“Besides the ­people here, there are about five or six more.” He glanced around at the ­people with him, and they nodded in agreement.

“Then we're talking fifteen to twenty, plus your families?”

“Yes.”

“That's going to be quite a load. You'll have to pay taxes if you move here.”

“Of course. Would we own the land?”

Bernadine replied, “No idea. That's something I'll have to add to the mix as I think this over, but I'd never hold the land over your heads the way Astrid is doing.”

“Good.”

The gravel hauler, Dick Slater, one of the two Black men in the group, spoke up. “I'd like to start my kids in your school, if that's possible.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Chuckles were heard.

“Astrid's been reviewing the teacher contracts, and she's cut a lot of the positions. The classrooms are overcrowded, and many of the teaching staff are threatening not to come back after the Christmas break. My kids' education is important, and I'm not the only one wanting to make a change.”

Astrid hadn't wasted any time putting her stamp on things, Bernadine thought. “How many children do you have, and what ages?”

“Two boys. One five, one seven.”

Little ones. They were going to have to hire another teacher, maybe two. Luckily they'd had the forethought to build the school with expansion in mind. “Nonresidents have to pay tuition, but if you'd like to enroll them, it would be better after the break.”

“Understood.”

“See me after we're done here for the forms we'll need filled out,” said Lily. “That goes for anyone else interested, too.”

“Will do.”

This was turning out to be more than a notion Bernadine thought to herself. But the question nagging her was: Why? Why was Astrid doing this? So she asked.

The answer was unanimous: “She's broke.”

“I've lived in Franklin all my life,” said Proctor, “and since Astrid's daddy died and her grandmother Mabel moved to Florida, there's been no one with a brain in charge of the town. She's been using the town coffers as her personal checking account for years—­especially the past few. She doesn't work at anything, so she has to have some way to pay for the new Caddy she buys every year and her trips to Europe and having the house redecorated whenever the mood hits her. Bleeding the town dry is the only way. There've been very few new residents in the last five years, and many of the houses are sitting empty, which is why she keeps raising rents and adding surtaxes on businesses. I wish I knew how to get in touch with Mabel. She never put up with Astrid's nastiness, and she'd be appalled to know the town her grandparents founded was on the rocks, and that the residents were being treated this way. Then again, she has to be in her nineties now. Maybe she does know, but is just too old to do anything about it.”

Bernadine was glad to have all this new information. It gave her a great deal of insight into Astrid, but what to do with it was anyone's guess. “Gentlemen, is there anything else you need to say?”

There wasn't, so she said, “I'm going to talk to my lawyers, my finance ­people and have them offer me some advice, and get back to you after the holiday.”

Proctor looked stricken.

“Mr. Proctor, surely you didn't expect me to answer you today? If you did, I'm truly sorry, but this is not something I can decide to do on the spot. There's a lot to take into consideration here.”

“I understand, and you're right.” Proctor still looked sad, though.

Bernadine felt bad for him and his group, but not enough to make a decision without input from her experts. “So let's meet again after the first of the year, and go from there.”

They nodded and thanked her.

As they donned their coats and prepared to leave, Mr. Proctor said, “Thanks again for hearing us out, Ms. Brown.”

“No problem. I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that we can work this out somehow.”

Bernadine and her administrative crew spent the rest of the morning making phone calls in an effort to evaluate the feasibility of Mr. Proctor's proposal. Tina was on the case, as was Bernadine's legal team, who were investigating what type of contracts or documents might be needed to go forward. Three of the men in the group had children they wanted to transfer to Jefferson Academy. Their kids were all younger than the students presently enrolled. From where she sat, Jack had enough to do without having to incorporate first-­ and second-­graders into his lesson plans, so she'd get with him after school to talk about expanding the teaching staff. With any luck they'd be able to have someone hired and in place by the time school started back up after the Christmas break. Thanks to Astrid and her machinations, the stress of turning the world had just upped itself a few more notches—­and she hadn't even started her Christmas shopping.

Entering the school auditorium for movie night, Bobby and Kelly were surprised by the sheer number of ­people inside—­Black, White, young, old, men, women, teens, little kids. The air was festive, buzzing with voices and laughter as ­people visited, staked out seats in the kiva-­shaped room, and stood in line for hot dogs, popcorn, nachos, drinks, and small plastic bowls of Tamar's homemade ice cream. After all he'd experienced this week, Bobby didn't know why he continued to be surprised by the happenings in town, but guessed it was because he had to keep pinching himself to make sure it was real. They'd left the twins at home in the care of Ms. Genevieve. She'd come over a few times during the week to get to know them better, and both she and Kiki had enjoyed the visits. Tonight was the first time they'd ever left the babies with a sitter, though. They were admittedly apprehensive, but looked forward to a few child-­free hours.

“Hey, you two. Good to see you.” It was Mal July. “Get yourselves some eats and grab some seats before the place fills up. Going to get real crowded before the lights go out.”

Kiki asked, “You do this every Friday night?”

“Without fail. Gives us something special to do and helps us stay in touch, especially during the winter. Do you like old movies?”

“I guess. Genevieve said tonight it's
Star Wars
.”

“Yep, and for us real old folks,
The Bronze Buckaroo
.”

“Who?” Bobby asked with a laugh.

“
The Bronze Buckaroo
. One of the movies Hollywood produced in the thirties and forties for folks who look like us. The Buckaroo was a singing cowboy. Guy named Herb Jeffries.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Most ­people your age haven't. But he died recently. We're showing the movie in his honor, and so the kids can check him out.”

“I learned something,” Kiki said.

“When you roll with us, you learn a lot,” Mal pointed out with a smile. “Let me get going. Enjoy yourselves.”

They nodded their thanks, and he moved on.

Kiki looked up at Bobby. “
The Bronze Buckaroo
.”

“I know.”

As Mal predicted, more and more ­people were filing in. Bobby spotted Trent's son Amari and his friend Brain down front, setting up a small podium onstage. “You want popcorn?”

“And a hot dog and a soda.”

“Then let's go.” In Dallas they would never have been able to waste money on something as frivolous as popcorn, but he'd been surprised by his first paycheck earlier. The amount wasn't large, but it was substantially more than he was accustomed to bringing home.

Moving through the crowd, they were greeted with smiles, words of welcome, and questions about the twins. ­People wanted to know how they were faring. Had they put up their Christmas tree, and were they getting used to the cold weather? “No!” Bobby and Kiki replied as one. That brought on laughs. Bobby felt as if they were in the midst of family, and he liked that.

After running a quick sound check and setting up the podium so Tamar could make her announcements, Amari and Brain went to the kitchen. The place was a hotbed of activity as Tamar, Rocky, OG, and their team of volunteers prepared the food. Because the boys were now members of the crew, they were allowed to grab their snacks without having to stand in line, so they loaded up and went to their seats. Most of their peers were already there. Wyatt and Zoey, Devon, Leah, and Tiffany, along with some Franklin kids, took up one row. Eli and Crystal were MIA because they were holding down the Dog along with Siz. Leah had saved a seat beside her for Brain, so he joined her. Amari took a seat in the row behind everybody and started in on his nachos. He still had the heartbreak blues but was determined not to let that keep him from enjoying
Star Wars,
one of his favorite movies.