Stepping to a New Day (7 page)

Eyeing each other with what appeared to be amazement, the girls left him in the kitchen alone.

Eli backed his car out of the driveway on his way to the neighboring town of Franklin to have dinner with his girlfriend, Samantha, and her parents, but his mind kept replaying how rigid Wyatt appeared walking away during lunch. The kid had been real silent for the rest of the day and something made Eli want to make sure his friend was okay. Following the death of his mom, Eli hadn't cared about anybody's feelings other than his own. Living in Henry Adams had changed that. So he pulled up in front of the boy's house and got out.

Wyatt answered the door and eyed Eli suspiciously before saying, “Hey, Eli.”

“Hey. Just stopped by to check you out. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings at lunch.”

“I'm good. Thanks.” And he promptly shut the door.

Stunned, Eli stood there.
I know this kid didn't just close the door in my face.
But he had and Eli could either pound on the door or leave. Holding onto his temper, he chose the latter.
So much for trying to help.

By the time Eli got to Sam's house he'd let it go, but would be talking to the other kids about the incident because Wyatt hadn't acted
good.

Sam answered the door and unlike Wyatt met his arrival with a smile. “Come on in.”

She lived in a nice house. Her parents seemed to like him and he thought they were okay as parents went. They didn't
hassle him or make him feel uncomfortable and that's all a kid could ask. Her mom, Natalie, wasn't a very good cook though, and as they sat down at the table he politely ate the spaghetti and meatballs because he was supposed to.

“You looking forward to community college, Eli?” her dad, Phillip, asked. He was a plumber.

“Yes, sir.”

Her mom glanced Sam's way. “Sammy's pretty excited about going to Columbia in New York City. Aren't you, honey?”

“I am,” she said with a happiness that showed.

Her mom sighed. “I just wish you'd gotten the scholarship to KU, so you'd be closer.”

“I know, but Columbia came through first.”

Sam was incredibly smart. Her big brain ranked right up there with Leah's and Preston's. She'd set her sights on leaving small-town Kansas the moment she became eligible to apply for colleges. She'd also been smart enough not to apply to KU, even though she told her parents she had. Neither of them had gone farther than high school. Sam was their only child and because they weren't familiar with the application process they'd relied on her to handle the paperwork and keep them informed.

“What are you going to major in, Eli?” her father asked.

“Art with a minor in business.”

He nodded approvingly. “Smart. Having business as a backup is a good thing. Art won't pay your mortgage.”

Eli didn't like hearing that, but nodded as if he agreed. He glanced at Sam. She showed a tiny eye roll. Hiding his amusement, he went back to his plate.

At the end of the meal, Eli stood. “I'll help clean off the
table, Mrs. Dickens?” It was what polite guests offered, but as always, she waved him off.

“Thanks, Eli, but you two go ahead and get your studying started. Can't have you flunking out right before graduation.” Her dad didn't offer to do anything and left the table to head for the flat screen in the den.

Eli and Sam moved into the living room.

As they took out their history assignments, he gave a quick look around to make sure they were not overheard and asked quietly, “Are you ever going to tell them you didn't apply to KU?”

She chuckled. “Maybe after I graduate from Columbia. Have you talked to your dad about letting you move back to California?”

“No, because he'll probably tell me no. I'm waiting on my friend Geoff to call me back. He's going to ask his mom if I can live with them until I finish school.” Eli's mom and Geoff's mom had been good friends. If she said yes, he'd have a better chance of getting his dad to agree. Eli enjoyed living in Henry Adams. He liked the people, the friends he'd made and the maturity he'd found, but he wasn't a small-town kid and he was feeling stifled by the slow pace and having nothing to do but go to school and hang out at work. He missed the energy of California, the people, his friends, surfing, the music. And like Sam, he wanted out, but unlike her, he didn't have the grades to get him into a big college—his own fault—so he had no golden ticket. “Maybe I'll have some leverage if I win the art competition.”

“Maybe.”

“No matter what happens though I'll do my best to come and see you at Columbia.” She went so still in response, he paused. “What's the matter?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Let's get started.”

He reached out and gently turned her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Talk to me, please. Is something wrong?”

For a moment their gazes held. She backed out of his hold and stared off for a moment. “Do you really want the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. It's like this. I don't want a boyfriend back home when I leave in August.”

That confused him. “What do you mean?”

“You and I have had a good time together but you don't love me, Eli. You never have. And please don't lie to me and say that you do.”

He blinked.

“I knew going in that you still had a thing for Crystal and it was okay, but when I leave I'll be stepping into a new life with new friends and maybe eventually somebody who'll be all mine and I'll be all theirs.”

“Wow,” he said softly. He hadn't seen that coming. At all.

She reached out and cupped his cheek. “You're a pretty amazing guy and you've been really sweet to me, but we don't have a future so there's no sense in pretending that we do.”

“So is this goodbye?”

“I still want to go to the graduation dance together, if you do. I still want to go to the Friday night movies and do all the other fun stuff we've been doing, but as friends.”

He studied her and realized he'd really screwed this up. All this time he'd been basically playing her but she'd played him, too. He felt like such a fool he wanted to rewind time and start over with this incredible girl because she'd deserved better. “I'm sorry, Sam.”

“Me, too.”

Damn!

“Do you still want to work on this assignment?” she asked quietly.

In truth, he wanted to slink home with his tail between his legs. “Yeah. What's the first question?”

Later, lying in bed in the dark, Eli thought back on Sam's startling confession. He felt an inch high. What might have happened had he dealt with her like a real girlfriend and not as a placeholder for Crystal? Would she have been so quick to dis their relationship? Would she have been sad about their being separated by so many miles? As it stood she'd been pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing and his ego felt stomped on. No more than he deserved. Treating her the way he had he'd earned having his feelings bruised like the loser in an MMA bout. Like most boys, he'd grown up believing girls were emotional and fragile little things. Since moving to Kansas it was obvious the women he'd interacted with didn't know that.

T
he following morning, as Paula prepared to leave for her office, she received a text from her uncle Calvin in Oklahoma.
Tyree gone. Della making funeral arrangements.
Sadness flooded her and she whispered a prayer for her grandfather's soul. That he was no longer in pain from the cancer was a blessing. She was then beset by a different set of emotions. His death meant she'd have to go back to Oklahoma and she sent up a prayer for herself.

Once in town, Paula stopped by Bernadine's office. As always she was at her desk.

“Good morning, Reverend. Come on in and have a seat. What can I do for you?”

Paula sat and said, “My grandfather's passed, so I'll be going to Oklahoma as soon as the funeral arrangements are finalized.”

“My condolences on your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Is this the same grandfather you went to see over the Christmas holidays?”

“Yes, he had cancer, but he hung on longer than the doctors said he would.”

“So sorry,” Bernadine said again. “Do you want Katie to fly you there?” Katie piloted Bernadine's personal jet.

“No. I'll fly commercial. Less drama that way.”

Seeing Bernadine's puzzlement, Paula explained, “My aunt Della already thinks I'm a stuck-up so-and-so. If she finds out I flew in on a private plane she'll really go to town on me.”

“You're kidding.”

“Wish I were. I am persona non grata in her eyes. So was my mom.”

“May I ask why?”

“My mother left there as soon as she finished high school. After her death when I was fourteen my grandfather took me in. I left too, as soon as I was able. Most folks born there die there.”

“You are one of the kindest and most loving people I know. How dare she hate on you.”

“Thanks for that, but it is what it is. I pray for her and for me.”

“Is this more of your being kind as opposed to being right scenarios?”

That made her smile. “I suppose so.” Bernadine was referencing a sermon Paula had given a few months back. The theme had been: Choosing to be kind over being right.

Bernadine cracked, “That's why you're the pastor here and I'm not. So when are you leaving?”

“Not sure, or how long I'll have to stay after the funeral, either.” She had no idea if he'd made a will.

“Okay. Let me know if I can help in any way.”

“I will.” Paula stood. “Thanks, Bernadine.”

“You're welcome. God bless you.”

She gave the Boss Lady a nod and slipped out.

On the short drive to the church, Paula thanked God again for bringing Bernadine and Henry Adams into her life. Three years ago when the diocese in Miami informed her it would be closing her aging inner-city parish, she'd also been encouraged to retire. Knowing her call was still strong and viable she'd eschewed the advice and prayed for direction instead. A short while later the remarkable Ms. Bernadine Brown entered her life. Like everyone else in town, it took Paula some time to wrap her head around the depths of Bernadine's generous spirit, but through it Paula gained a community, a brand-new church, and the opportunity to combine the two things she loved most: serving God and helping kids.

Inside her office, she hung her parka in the office closet and checked her planner. She had a session with Zoey Garland after school. As far as Paula knew, Zoey, aka Miss Miami, as she was affectionately called, hadn't gone Muhammad Ali on anyone in quite some time. She assumed the anger management talks they'd been having were helping—either that or no one had made Zoey mad enough recently to set her off. Smiling, she closed her planner. Until Zoey arrived the day was her own, so she sat down at her desk to fine-tune her sermon. One of the upcoming Sunday readings was from Ecclesiasticus. Chapter 44, verses 1-15. It paid tribute to the ancestors, particularly those unsung. When she began working on the sermon earlier in the week, she'd thought the verses apropos in light of her grandfather's cancer fight. Now that the disease had won, the words resonated louder still, even though living with him represented a dark, painful period in her life, and Tyree Parks hadn't feared God or
anyone else.
Their descendants stand by the covenants; their children
also . . .
Paula wasn't looking forward to returning to Oklahoma. When she visited her grandfather in the hospital over the Christmas holiday she'd hoped things in the small town of Blackbird had changed for the better—they hadn't. The people had gotten older of course, but the petty jealousies, backbiting, and the abject poverty remained firmly entrenched. Her mother's sister, Della, was still bitter, resentful, and venomous. Every word she'd spoken to Paula had been laced with barbs, even going so far as to deride Paula for being a priest. The hate-filled words hurt—always had, and probably always would because she didn't see her aunt changing. When it came time to return there for the funeral she'd need God's help because Blackbird, Oklahoma, was a snake pit and anyone who ventured in without fangs was prey.

Needing to find out about the funeral arrangements, Paula picked up her phone and mentally prepared herself to speak with her aunt because she knew it wouldn't go well. When Della answered, Paula said, “Hey, Aunt Della, this is Paula. My condolences.”

“How'd you find out?”

“Uncle Calvin sent me a text.”

“What do you want?”

“To see if the arrangements have been made. I'll be coming for the funeral.”

“Why? He didn't leave you anything, if that's what you think.”

Paula prayed for patience. “I don't want anything from him. I'm coming to pay my respects. I owe him that.”

“You owed him so much you left, just like your mama did.”

“Can we not go there? He was my grandfather.”

“And my father and your mother's father. Didn't stop her from breaking his heart when she left. And you turned around and did the same thing. Apples don't fall far from the tree.”

As difficult as it was, Paula refused to be baited.

Della continued, “And don't think you're going to have a say in the service.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

“Good. Because nobody wants any of that mumbo-jumbo you and those Catholics use.”

Paula gave up long ago trying to explain to her aunt that she wasn't Catholic. To Della if you weren't Baptist or Methodist, you were Catholic. “How's Robyn?”

“Got her head in those damn books so much, have to remind her to do her chores. She's going to turn out to be as useless as Lisa.” Della's daughter, Lisa, disappeared fifteen years ago, leaving behind her then two-year-old daughter, Robyn, for Della to raise. No one knew where she'd gone or if she were alive or dead, and Della didn't seem to care. Paula worried that Della's constant berating would kill her granddaughter's love for learning just as she'd tried to do with Paula.

“I'm looking forward to seeing her again.” The seventeen-year-old was quiet and withdrawn but smart as the proverbial whip. Paula wished there was a way to help her but trusted God to make a way out of Blackbird for her just as a way had been made for Paula.

“Just stay away from her. The last thing she needs is you filling her head with more of your college nonsense.” On Paula's visit last winter she'd offered to help Robyn pay for college if she chose to attend. Della had been furious but Paula planned to keep the promise no matter what because the girl deserved to have as bright a future as possible.

“Let me know when the arrangements are set.”

When no response followed, Paula waited. A glance at the phone's face showed:
Call Ended.
Della had hung up. Tight-lipped, Paula tossed the phone aside and wiped at the hot tears in her eyes. Her aunt was going to make her lose her religion but she was determined to stay forthright.

Gen had a literacy session that same morning with a student in Franklin. Usually Nathan chauffeured her there and back, but with him gone the driver would be TC. Lily's assessment of Henry Adams's newest resident played back in Gen's mind.
For a man of a certain age, Gary's uncle is kind of hot.
Gen agreed. Granted, she knew nothing about him, which meant he could be a serial player like Mal before Bernadine entered his life, or have some other major fault, but he hadn't given off that vibe. In fact, he'd been nothing but polite and respectful on the ride from the airport. They even shared a similar taste in music, not to mention the man watched C-SPAN, of all things. That alone was enough to add the words
and intriguing
to the end of Lily's description. If he panned out, TC Barbour might be quite the catch for a woman of a certain age, even though that woman wouldn't be her.

As the time to leave approached, Gen went to the closet for her blue leather jacket and the tote holding her books and supplies. Nathan was sometimes late picking her up. What with a wife needing to be dropped off at her job and a baby to drive to day care it was a wonder he showed up at all some mornings, but a glance out of the curtained windows showed TC right on time. Seeing the black town car made the gloomy April day seem brighter somehow. Marie was still upstairs doing whatever behind her bedroom's closed door, so Gen called out a goodbye and left.

He was standing beside the opened car door when she stepped out onto the porch. “Good morning, Ms. Gibbs,” he said as she approached.

“Good morning, Mr. Barbour. How are you?”

“Doing well.” As she walked by him and took her seat she caught the faint scent of his nice-smelling cologne.

After closing her in, he took his seat up front. He swiveled around to face her. “You'll have to direct me, if you don't mind. Couldn't get the GPS to wake up and do its job. Ms. Brown said you're headed to Franklin?”

“Yes, it's the next town over. Go out to the road and turn left. Franklin's not that far.”

“Okay.” He followed her instructions and soon they were underway.

“Do you want some music?” he asked.

“I do. Thanks.”

Soft jazz played lightly against the quiet interior.

After a few moments, he asked, “Is the weather ever going to get warmer? As in really warm? I'm not liking these forties one day, sixties the next.”

That amused her. “It'll settle down soon. Where are you from?”

“Oakland.”

“Ah. California weather.”

“Yes. It can get cold there too, but it doesn't hang around like this. Are you from here?”

“Yes. Lived here all my life.”

“Then you must like small towns.”

“I didn't when I was younger, but now, I'm content. Finally realized there's a lot to love.”

“Such as?”

“Lifelong friendships. Goodhearted people. No crime.”

“Gotcha. Enjoyed the town meeting. Never been to anything like that before.”

“Not many communities gather the way we do. We get together on Friday nights too, to watch movies at the recreation center.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We show an early one for the kids and a late one for the adults—usually classics.
Carmen Jones. Casablanca
. I think we're showing
Pinocchio
and
Dream Girls
this Friday.”

“And everybody turns out?”

“Yes. Kids, babies, teenagers, grown folks.”

“That sounds really cool.”

“It is. I missed them when I was married. My ex-husband didn't really care to go, but I'm there most Fridays now.”

“How long were you married?”

Gen sighed. “Truthfully, forty years too long. It took me a while to admit that he loved his hog more than me, but once I did, I left.”

He caught her eye in the mirror. “He loved a hog.”

“Yes. One of the downsides of being in a small town is that there are no secrets, so you may as well hear the story straight from the horse's mouth.”

And when she was done with the telling, he asked, amazed, “The hog killed a man?”

“Sat on him until he went splat. And when the authorities carted the hog off, my idiot of an ex-husband broke the animal out of the county pen and the two went on the lam, like maybe they were the Dillinger Gang. It was unbelievable.”

“I'm sorry but this is funny.”

“It's okay. In some ways it was, but it was also off the wall, stupid, and when the health department bulldozed my home, infuriating.” Just thinking about it made her temper spike so she calmed herself.

“Does your ex and his hog still live here?”

“No. Riley took him to Hollywood last year to make him a star.”

“What!”

“Truly crazy, right?”

“Yes. You've been through a lot.”

“I have, but I'm still standing and that's what counts.”

“Amen.”

His approving tone made her add one more star to his name. “So what about you. Married? Divorced?”

“Widower. Lost my wife Carla to lupus almost thirty years ago now.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“Thanks. Loved her madly.”

Gen wondered what it felt like to be loved so deeply. “Children?”

“Three. Two boys and a baby girl. All grown now of course. How about you? Any kids?”

“No.”

She saw him watching her from the mirror and she gave him a tiny shrug in response as if the gesture summed it up. She never knew whether she was the one with the fertility issue or Riley. Her doctor said she was fine. Riley never went.

They were now driving down Franklin's main street. She directed him where to turn and to the address. He stopped the car out front. “Do you have my number so you can call when it's time for me to take you back?” he asked.

She didn't. After adding him to her contacts, she placed her phone back in her purse. “I'll call you in about an hour.”

He came around to open the door for her. She wanted to tell him it was unnecessary but she knew it was his job so she kept it to herself and got out. “Thank you.”