When Everything's Said & Done (16 page)

Their gazes held.

“But how do you make a living from this, Cora?”

She inhaled. “Money isn’t my goal, Warren. I’m not trying to make a fortune. I just want to help these kids know their strengths. And to know that being an individual is good. They don’t have to follow the crowd.”

He walked over and stood in front of her. “That’s al
l well and good, Cora, but— uh, you do need to make money. It’s just the way things are. You can’t survive without it. You might be able to eat and sleep off Miss Laura for a little while, but—”

“I don’t intend to live off of my mother for the rest of my life.” Cora crossed her arms. “And I’ll have you know I actually add to the family income. I make a lit
tle bit of money by selling my paintings.” She pointed. “Every once in a while some wise, open person buys one. And I have things that come from Africa that sell okay. ” Her chin lifted. “As far as the kids go, sometimes there is a small fee to cover the supplies. And so far, so good.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.” Cora regained her footing from Warren’s pointed question. “Now, what about you? You’re a policeman?”

“Ye-
es. I’m not wearing this uniform for fun.”

Cora made a face. “How did you come up with that?”

Warren looked amused. “I came up with it because this is what I want to be. Policemen do have a purpose in this society, you know. We’re not all bad. We’re not all pigs.” He shrugged. “We look after people. We try to keep order, because life doesn’t work well without it.”

“I realize that.” Cora backed down a bit. “I just never thought that one of my friends would be a policeman.” “So you consider me to be a friend?”

Cora relaxed on one hip. “Warren, you’ll always be a friend.”

“Huh.” He spun the cap in his hand. “And there’s no possibility for anything more?”

Cora got quiet. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Now that, Cora, is a lie,” Warren replied.

Her mouth dropped open. “What? Did you just call me a liar?”

“I did. A beautiful liar, but a liar nevertheless.” “Your uniform is not a license to be rude. I—”

“So if you feel the need to lie to me, perhaps even to yourself right now,” Warren continued, “it’s okay. I’ll let you slide for awhile. But I’m going to want the truth at some point, Cora.”

He looked deep into her eyes as if he were search
ing for it.

Cora didn’t know what to say.

“Have you eaten?” Warren went to safer grounds. “No.” Cora picked at her arm. “I was going to go home and see what I could scrounge up.”

“No scrounging for you tonight,” Warren replied. “I’m on lunch break. Would you like to go around the corner and sit down and have something to eat at
what’s going to be one of my favorite spots? It’s called Atwater s.”

Cora paused just a second. “Why not?” she replied.

Warren waited while Cora put everything away and locked up. Then they headed down the street together.

Nebia’s Story...

“I told you, Miss Nebia, there was something going on between those two,” Erica said. “And you said you weren’t sure about that.”

“Of course I knew there was something,” Nebia replied. “But I said Cora never talked about it. At least for a good while she didn’t.” Nebia licked her lips. “But, yes, I saw it in her face the day she saw Warren for the first time after he returned to St. Petersburg. ”

“And her feelings were so strong that you saw them, but Cora was still having a hard time admitting anything,” Cynthia added.

“No doubt she was.” Nebia swiped at a mosquito. “I don’t think Cora knew what to do with those kinds of feelings. She had known what to do with attraction, lust, but not feelings that had more permanent rum
blings. And Warren realized Cora’s predicament,” Nebia continued. “So he took it slow. It was because he knew her as a child. He knew Cora’s roots, what made her who she was. Warren really knew Cora, so when she tried to pretend as if there was nothing there, he told her it was fine. He gave her time to be in that comfortable space. But he also warned her that she was going to have to come out of there. To come out and meet him in a love that was adult. That deserved a commitment.” Nebia paused. “Because Warren knew Cora wanted it.”

“And did he ask her?” Erica asked.

“When the time was right...yes, Warren did. And Cora was ready.”

CHAPTER 22

"Well, I’ve got you now.” Cora smiled and turned her body toward Warren as she sat in the passenger seat.

“You think so?” Warren glanced at her,
and then returned his gaze to the road as he continued to drive.

She nodded slowly. “I most certainly do. Because I’ve never seen you dance before, Warren. Never. Never. Never. Not while we were in high school. None of the times when we’d get together in the backyard and show what we could do. You’d just sit and watch. You’d never join in. And now—
” she counted on her fingers “—we’ve been out one, two, three...we’ve been out four times. You’ve taken me to eat, we’ve been to the movies, but every time I said, ‘let’s go out so we can dance,’ you’d say something like, ‘don’t want to do that.’ So I just figured it was because you can’t.”

“And that’s what you get for figuring,” Warren replied. “Because here we are, on our way.”

“Yeah.” Cora chuckled. “And that’s how I know I’ve got you. I’ve pressured you so much that you finally gave in with your no-dancing self.” She chuckled again. “So this is going to be interesting.”

“It sure is.” Warren nodded.

Cora studied his profile, and she knew there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t think Warren was a good- looking man. Every time the lights from the oncoming cars flashed inside their vehicle, in Cora’s mind Warren shone like a gem. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. She took in everything down to the length of his eyelashes.

Warren glanced at her. “What’s gotten into you?” Cora looked down. “Nothing. Can’t a woman be quiet if she wants to?”

“Not you. You’re always talking.”

“See there.” Cora turned her body toward the dash
board and folded her hands in her lap. “You think you know everything about me. Well, you don’t.” She looked out the window, but in her mind’s eye Cora was seeing every detail of Warren’s face. Especially his mouth. He had never kissed her. Not really.

“Have you been to CeCe’s before?” Warren asked.

“No, I’ve never been,” Cora replied. “But I’ve heard some pretty good things about it. I heard some of the kids talking about their folks going there and loving it. But I’ve also heard them whispering among themselves. They talk about who got drunk at Cake’s, and who got caught with somebody else.”

“I heard a few things about it myself,” Warren replied. “We made an arrest over there one night, but overall it’s a pretty good place. I hear it’s got great
food, and CeCe’s kitchen is open half the night. So, it’s been doing pretty good. Hear it’s got a good D.J. and all, so we should have a pretty good time.”

They drove for another five minutes before they pulled up in front of CeCe’s. It was simply a house stuck in the middle of a row of what were obviously businesses. There were cars parked all up and down the street.

Warren and Cora parked and got out. They walked toward the building. When they stepped inside Cora noticed how the living room had been converted to a dance floor, and the dining room was the dining area with small tables and chairs. The tables were topped with crocheted tablecloths. Glass soda bottles served as candleholders, and what had been a large pantry was now the D.J.’s booth. His records were stacked and labeled on the shelves around him.

A healthy woman wearing a dress that fit every one of her curves walked over with a smile that was as inviting as the music.

“I’m CeCe. Welcome.” She stretched out her hand.

“Hi, CeCe,” Cora replied.

“Good to meet you,” Warren said.

“I don’t know if you know it, but we are a restau
rant with a dance floor. Are you planning to eat?” The question separated the paying customers from the loiterers.

“Yes, we are expecting to have dinner,” Warren replied.

“Good,” CeCe said. “And I’ve got just the table for you.” She picked up a menu that had been handwritten and directed them toward a corner table. “Come with me.”

Cora and Warren followed her and sat down. “Donna will be over to take your order in a minute. I hope you enjoy yourselves.” CeCe smiled again.

“From what I can see,” Cora replied, “I’m sure we will.”

They looked over the menu as the D.J. played an old blues tune that had several people jumping and mov
ing on the dance floor, Cora laughed at the antics of one man. “I think there’s going to be some performances up in here tonight,” Cora said.

Warren glanced at the dance floor. “Do you plan to join them?”

“Yes, we do plan to join them.”

“I’m not talking about just dancing,” Warren said. “I’m talking about acting a fool like that fellow out there. ” Cora laughed. “I might do a
little of that, too. You know who you’ve got over here, Warren Gray.”

“Yeah, I know who you think you are, and who you’ve been determined to be up to this point in your life. People don’t always remain the same, Cora. As time passes, people change.”

“Most people do, I guess. I can’t say I haven’t made some changes,” Cora replied. “I have, as a matter of fact.”

“I know you have. That’s why I’m saying what I’m
saying right now.”

She looked in his eyes. They were so serious and dark. Cora looked down at the menu. “See, you start
ing in too serious too fast for me. And I’m too hungry for that. I’m going to pick what I’m going to eat.” “Please do. I’m just making conversation.” Warren smiled.

Minutes later Donna arrived. “Are you ready to
order?”

“I am,” Cora replied.

“Go right ahead.” Donna readied her pad and pencil. “I’ll have your green beans, your greens and some of this macaroni and cheese. And I want some cornbread with that.”

“All right. What kind of meat are you having?”

“No meat for me,” Cora replied.

Donna, who was obviously a teenager, made a funny face. “And you, sir?”

“Let’s see, I think I’m going to have this, CeCe’s Killer Smothered Chicken.”

“All right.”

“And give me a side of your lima beans, and—^uh. I’ll take some corn.”

“Anything to drink?” Donna looked from Warren to

Cora.

“You have tea, don’t you?” Cora looked at the menu again.

“Yes, we have sweet tea.”

“I’ll take some sweet tea.”

“Start me off with some tea, too,” Warren said.

“I’ll bring your drinks out in a minute,” Donna replied before she walked away.

The drinks came and the food followed shortly after, and Cora and Warren engaged in conversation about the restaurant, CeCe, Laura and life in general. The conversation flowed easily—^the talk of two people who had known each other for a lifetime. The talk of friends.

Once the meal was done, Cora sat back and took a deep breath.

“My goodness, and when I first ordered I promised myself a dessert of apple pie with vanilla ice cream on top. But now I can’t eat another thing.”

“This hit the spot for me,” Warren replied. “I’m feel
ing just fine. Not too much, not too little.”

The song in the background ended and the dancers began to return to their tables.

Donna popped up again. “Can I get you something else?”

“You can bring me a beer,” Warren said.

She looked at Cora.

“I’ll have some more iced tea,” Cora replied. Donna picked up Cora’s glass and walked away.

“When a Man Loves a Woman” began to play. Cora watched a couple get up and go to the dance floor. She looked across the table and saw Warren rise from his chair as well. He came and stood in front of her and stretched out his hand. Cora looked at it.

“It’s time,” Warren said.

“Time for what?” Cora challenged.

“You’ll see once we get out there.”

She looked into his eyes, then said, “All right.”

Cora placed her hand in Warren’s and followed him on to the floor. When they stopped, Warren pulled Cora to him and wrapped his arms around her. It was uncanny how her head fit so neatly just below his shoul
der. Cora couldn’t help but close her eyes at the feel of him. They had been going places together for a couple of months, but all that time Warren had kept his distance. At first Cora didn’t know what to think about it, but she finally concluded Warren just wanted to be friends. But now, as he held her in his arms, the feeling that came over her made Cora know that, for her, it was more than friendship.

Warren began to move in a simple but rhythmic fash
ion as they held each other in silence, and the music and the lyrics washed over them.