“Not bad.”
He’d asked all the questions Della hadn’t bothered with and it was a small balm. He was only a few years older than Paula. His mother, Anna Lee, had gotten involved with Tyree right out of high school. Much to Della’s fury, her half brother had been shown all the affection she was denied. It also irritated her that he and Paula got along.
“Mama wants you to come to dinner tonight if you don’t want to cook,” Calvin said.
“I’d like that,” Paula replied. While growing up, Della had forbidden her any contact with Anna Lee. “She still live in the same place?”
“Yes.”
“She’s having dinner with me and Robyn,” Della declared.
That caught Paula off guard. She knew the only reason Della was laying claim to her time was to thwart Anna Lee and using Robyn as bait, but because Paula wanted to see her younger cousin, she ceded her aunt the round. “Tell your mother thank you for the invite. I’ll take a rain check before I go home.”
“No problem. I’ll stop by tomorrow. Got some things I want to talk to you about.”
“Like what?” Della demanded before Paula could reply.
In response, his eyes reflected a chill so reminiscent of Tyree’s, Paula was instantly transported back to her teen years when drawing her grandfather’s ire could turn her to stone. Even Della took an unconscious step back. Then in a voice also reminiscent of his father’s, Calvin stated, “It’s none of your business.”
Della’s unbridled hate flared but he appeared unfazed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Paula.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
He left.
In the silence that followed, Paula knew retribution was coming. Della didn’t like being challenged, especially by her father’s bastard child and as always, Paula would have to pay, but just as Della’s hand whipped out to slap her, Paula grabbed her aged wrist, held, and said through gritted teeth, “I’ve forgiven you for abusing me as a child but I will not let you abuse me as an adult.”
Della showed surprise.
Reminding herself they were both children of God, Paula released her hold. “Now, let’s go. I want to see Robyn.”
Following Della in the rental car, Paula drew in a few deep calming breaths. The Bible said turn the other cheek, but she was pretty sure that didn’t mean she was supposed to let her aunt assault her, and if it did, then she’d have to seek forgiveness in her nightly prayers. As a teen she’d endured whippings with belts, ironing cords, and doubled lengths of plastic-coated clotheslines. There’d been countless slaps to the face, punches to her chest and stomach and no one to make it stop. Her grandfather never intervened, nor did the neighbors. Della was the adult, Paula the child. No one in Blackbird saw fit to call the authorities. It just wasn’t done. So she’d retreated into her books and got good grades and applied for scholarships, and eventually earned one to Spelman. On her eighteenth birthday, a letter arrived with a check for more money than she’d ever seen. It was her mother’s life insurance money. It had been set aside for her and her alone. The check and scholarship were her ticket out of Blackbird and she never looked back.
Della’s house was as run-down as its neighbors, and just the sight of it triggered painful memories. Paula parked and followed her up the warped wooden steps and inside. The dreariness of the interior was brightened by the smile that came over Robyn’s face when she saw Paula, but the girl took one look at her grandmother and turned her attention back to stirring what smelled like a pot of beans on the stove. “Hi, Cousin Paula.”
“How are you, Robyn?” Each time Paula saw her, Robyn’s resemblance to her mother, Lisa, became more and more pronounced. Paula truly wished she knew why Lisa had left her behind.
“I’m good,” she said, casting a wary glance at Della. “How was your flight?”
“It was fine. Come give me a hug.”
She shot another quick look at her grandmother, placed the lid back on the large pot, and walked into Paula’s embrace. Robyn’s strong hug told all. Paula responded with all the love in her heart and silently prayed for the help the teen needed to be set free. After placing a kiss on the teen’s forehead, Paula released her and asked, “How’s school?”
“Good.”
“Grades?”
Robyn offered a small smile. “Real good.”
“Excellent.”
Della asked, “You fry the chicken?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s in the oven keeping warm.”
“Those beans done?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then let’s eat.”
The meal was a silent affair. Robyn seemed afraid to speak and Paula understood. What she didn’t understand though was how Lisa could have abandoned her. Granted, Lisa and Della had never gotten along but to disappear for fifteen years with no word? “Chicken’s good, Robyn,” Paula said.
Robyn’s eyes slid Della’s way before she responded. “Thank you.”
Della said sharply, “Finish eating and clean up. Need this kitchen mopped before you go to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Paula asked, “Do you have homework?”
Robyn nodded. “Yes. Geometry test tomorrow.”
“Then how about I help you with the chores so you can get to your studying.”
“She doesn’t need help. Do you?” Della asked her granddaughter pointedly. Paula heard the veiled threat beneath the words and was certain Robyn did, too.
Her response was a softly spoken, “No, ma’am.”
Paula wanted to insist but knew the price Robyn would pay if she forced the issue so she let it go. “Okay. Thanks for the great dinner. I’ll be here until the funeral, so we’ll talk soon.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Ignoring the smugness in Della’s eyes Paula rose from her chair. “I’m going back to Papa’s. Aunt Della, if you need me, just call.”
No reply was offered. Paula gave Robyn’s shoulder a parting squeeze and left them alone. On the short drive back, she wiped at her angry tears and offered up a prayer on Robyn’s behalf.
Inside her grandfather’s house, she took her suitcase into her old bedroom and was again flooded by memories. The hard-as-a-rock twin bed was still there, as was the small, rickety nightstand that needed a magazine beneath one of its uneven legs to keep it upright. The walls appeared to have been painted at some point but they were still stark white. How many nights had she lain awake wishing to be elsewhere? In reality it had been four years’ worth and each day crawled by like a century. Back then, her only escape had been school, where she’d been encouraged by teachers like Mrs. Cramer, who taught typing, and Mr. Ellis, who’d taught both English and Biology, and where she’d giggled with friends Fanny Jones and Kathy Stevens over the cute boys du jour. Over time, she’d lost touch with them, and wondered how their lives had turned out. Were Fanny and Kathy still around? She’d have to ask Calvin. It might be nice to reconnect. Putting the past aside, she unpacked and set about cleaning the house. She’d be staying at least until Sunday and the dust had to go. She found cleaning rags and detergent in the cabinet beneath the sink but when she turned on the tap the water came out in a thin stream and the pipes groaned in protest. Wondering what was up with that, she went into the bathroom and flushed the toilet. It worked but the bowl refilled at an incredibly slow pace. She hoped it wasn’t something serious and made a mental note to ask Calvin about that too when he came by tomorrow. Issues with the water meant she couldn’t mop the floors, but she didn’t need water to dust or sweep so she threw herself into that. Once she was done the house looked better. She opened the back door and stepped out onto the small porch to get some fresh air. As she took in the large tree-lined yard the nightmare she’d had Sunday night came back. She saw her mother and the old woman digging, heard the butterflies moaning, felt their sharp wings beating like tiny razors against her face, but she remembered the skull in her mother’s hand with the most clarity. It made her shudder and the sense of foreboding returned. Determined to ignore i
t, she walked back into the house and firmly closed the door behind her.
Because there was no Wi-Fi, Paula sat and read her Bible until nightfall, then prepared for bed. Passing her grandfather’s bedroom, she gathered her courage and walked inside. The space was just as she remembered: same bed, dresser, and small closet. His presence was so strong she expected him to come up behind her and demand to know what she was doing. Shaking that off, she stepped in further. Growing up, she’d never been allowed in his room and she’d rarely violated the unspoken law even when she was home alone. She pulled open the closet door and the scent of Old Spice, his cologne of choice, wafted to her nose. Hanging inside were a few threadbare suits along with a small collection of blue and brown work shirts and pants that matched. She wondered if Della had plans for his things. For most of his life he’d worked for a wealthy white family in a town a few miles away as their handyman, doing everything from painting to lawn work to mopping their floors. The pay had been minimal but enough for him to stay on top of his bills, and it was steady. Paula had no idea what kind of financial shape he’d been in when he died or if he’d left a will. She assumed Della knew the details. On the shelf above the clothes she spotted what appeared to be a thick book. Reaching up, she took it down. To her surprise it was an old photo album. Taking a seat on the bed, she blew off some of the dust and opened it. The photos were dull with age. There was one of him that looked to have been taken in his twenties. He was thin, dressed in a wide-legged pin-striped suit, and had a cocky smile on his handsome face. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d seen him smile. None had ever been directed her way. She turned more pages and found pictures of her mother and Della as youngsters and teens. The next picture stopped her heart. It was a wedding photo. The groom was her grandfather and the bride—a younger version of the old woman in her dream. Heart pounding, Paula read the name. Myrlie Parks. Her grandmother! Now she understood why the woman had looked familiar. Paula had seen her face in an album at Della’s house years ago. Myrlie died when Paula’s mother was in her teens. What in the world! She studied the picture again and in her face saw a resemblance to all the women in the family who’d come after her: Patricia, Della, Lisa, Robyn, and Paula herself. Unlike the families in Henry Adams no stories of Myrlie had been passed down. Paula knew her name, that she’d died, but nothing more. Why were you in my dream? There was no answer, of course. Closing the album, Paula placed it back on the closet shelf and left the room.
Later, lying in the dark on the hard uncomfortable twin bed, Paula’s mind swirled with all she’d done, seen, and heard that day. There were so many unresolved issues, missing pieces, and pain. The priest in her said: Let go and let God. Paula hoped she could.
CHAPTER
13
The next morning back in Henry Adams, Clay and Riley were just finishing breakfast when Clay said, “Bernadine called a little while ago. Wants to see you.”
Riley studied him over the cup of coffee in his hand. “She say what she wanted?”
“No.”
Riley hoped it meant she’d be offering him the barber job. “Got some good news from the lawyer last night.” Riley had spoken with him via Clay’s phone.
“And?” Clay asked
“The dealership in LA dropped the charges.”
Clay looked suspicious. “Why?”
“Because they got their vehicle back in one piece and didn’t think it made sense to waste all that time and money trying to prosecute me. They took my age into consideration, too.”
“So you got off scot-free.”
Riley smiled smugly. “Yep. Just not allowed within fifty feet of their dealerships anywhere in the country and I can’t set foot in LA County for the next three years. Which is fine and dandy because I’m never going back there anyway. Hate LA.”
“What about the identity theft charges?”
“Dropped, too. Lawyer said he argued that I didn’t do Trent any real harm. Didn’t open a bank account, apply for a credit card, or sign his name to any documents. Apparently the prosecutor agreed.” Riley guessed Trent wasn’t going to be happy, but he didn’t care.
“You were lucky,” Clay said grudgingly, getting to his feet. “Let’s hope you’re lucky enough for Bernadine to hire you. I’ll be ready to drive you over after you clean up the kitchen.”
Riley froze. Wasn’t he the guest? As Clay strolled out, Riley glared at his back but got up and got to work.
Once the kitchen was done, Clay drove him to the Power Plant and dropped him off. “Meet me at the Dog when you’re done.”
Riley entered Ms. Brown’s office and tried to ignore the chill in her eyes as he took a seat.
“Riley,” she said coolly.
“How are you, Ms. Brown? You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Kelly said you stopped by her place yesterday wanting a job.”
“Yes.”
“And why should I hire you after all the commotion you’ve caused?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I really need a job. I thought I’d run for mayor again in the next election but until then—“
The expression on her face stopped him cold.
“You plan to run for mayor again.” It was a statement. Not a question.
“Sure. Why not? I have a lot of ideas that’ll help this town grow.” And he might find a way to prove his theory that she’d gotten her millions illegally.
She shook her head. “What’s the latest on your court case?”
“The dealership dropped the charges.” He didn’t tell her the rest because it was really none of her business.
“I see.” She didn’t appear happy. “I made some calls last night to see if a barber was indeed needed and was told by men like Mal and others that there was, and that you were fairly decent at it.”
“I was the best,” he boasted. Inwardly though he was pleading for her to say he could have the job. Regardless of his good news, he was still flat broke and homeless.
“I’m going to give you the job temporarily.”
Riley stiffened. Temporarily?
“If you prove yourself to be an exemplary employee over the next thirty days the job will be yours permanently.”
Recalling being chastised by Tamar, he said, “Thank you, Ms. Brown.”
She leaned forward. “But let me warn you, if you steal even a dime or do anything remotely illegal, Eustacia’s lawyers won’t be able to save you from my lawyers. Do you understand me?”
He nodded hastily.
“Good. Report for work tomorrow at nine and Kelly is in charge. Not you.”
“Okay.” He thanked her again and beat a hasty retreat.
Because the day was so nice the students at the Marie Jefferson Academy took their lunch outside and Amari asked Eli, “So are you going to talk to Tamar about the Father’s Day party or not?”
“I am. Today. Promise.”
Amari said, “Good, because I talked to my mom about helping us order the material for the flags and she suggested we come to the next Ladies Auxiliary meeting so they can assist with oversight.”
Leah said, “That’s a really good idea. Did you tell her not to tell your dad?”
He nodded. “She knows what’s up. So who wants to go to the meeting with me?”
Devon asked, “Why do you get to go?”
“Because he has the gift of gab,” Preston pointed out.
“Can I go?” Zoey asked.
“Sure.”
“I want to go,” Leah said.
Tiffany did too and so did Devon.
Amari threw up his hands. “How about we all go and be done with it?”
Everyone agreed. Except Wyatt, who sat eating silently. Eli glanced his way but said nothing. On the way back into the building, Eli stopped him. “Hey. You want to come by my house later and we go look at some skateboards?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“Your enthusiasm is scintillating,” Eli deadpanned.
Wyatt smiled.
That made Eli feel better. “I’ll text you after I talk to Tamar.”
Wyatt gave him a nod and walked away.
Eli was nearly at the door when Crystal stopped him and said, “Hey. What’s up with you and Sam? You two haven’t been joined at the hip lately.”
He shrugged. “Split City. Her call.”
Crystal searched his eyes. “You want her killed?”
He laughed. “No.”
“Just checking. You’re okay, though?”
“I am.”
She nodded at him and went inside. Eli thought he couldn’t have a better friend.
Heading to Tamar’s after school, Eli didn’t see her having an issue with them using her yard for the party, but he knew better than to assume when Tamar was involved. He’d sent her a text earlier, so she was expecting him. Walking to the porch, he thought back to the very first time they met. He and his dad had just arrived in town and Eli was an angry pain in the ass. She’d set him straight right quick, and he hadn’t liked it, or her, at all. They ended up talking about his mom’s death and when the conversation was over, he realized what a great lady she was. That she’d offered him pancakes that day hadn’t hurt. He knocked. She opened the door.
“Come on in.”
“Thanks.”
She gestured for him to take a seat. She sat too and asked, “So what can I help with? Am I right in assuming this is another one of my great-grandson’s grand ideas?”
“Yes, but it’s a good one. We want to have a Father’s Day celebration and your permission to have it here.”
“Since this is Amari’s plan I have to ask if the police will be involved.”
“No, ma’am.” Eli knew she was referencing an incident that took place the first year Amari, Preston and Crystal came to town. Amari’s plan to help Crystal run away so she could find her bio mom went sideways and landed them all in the backseat of a squad car. It happened before he and his dad moved to Henry Adams. In a way he wished he’d been around to witness it, but in reality was glad he hadn’t been.
“Good.”
“Do you have a date for this?”
He gave her the date and watched her put it in her phone. She had to be the most tech savvy senior citizen he’d ever met.