Meanwhile, Trent and Amari were at the garage working on Bing’s old T-Bird. The original engine was shot, and while Trent worked on replacing it, Amari handed him the tools he needed like a nurse assisting a surgeon.
“Let me have the caliper.”
Amari handed it over. “Are you and Mom going to adopt Devon, too?”
“She and I haven’t talked about it, but I’m pretty sure we will. Why?”
“He’s such a dork.”
Trent looked up. “That’s kind of harsh.”
“Sometimes the truth is.”
Trent resumed his task. “Suppose I’d applied that standard to you?”
“I’m not a dork.”
“No, but you were a car thief, and cursed like the proverbial sailor. Not exactly a poster child for exemplary behavior.”
Amari met Trent’s eyes sheepishly. “Oh.”
Trent paused for a moment to let that sink in before saying, “Devon’s going through some things right now, and as his family we have to be there for him, regardless of how we feel about his personality.”
“But he’s never going to be a July.”
“When you had the whole town hauled into court, I had misgivings about you, too.”
Amari looked away.
Trent softened his tone. “You have a big heart, Amari. Use it to help your brother. He may not know it at the moment, but he needs you, okay?”
“If you say so,” Amari replied grudgingly.
“Hand me that socket wrench. We’re supposed to meet up with him and Dad at noon to watch the games. And so you’ll know, on Wednesday you’ll be missing school so we can go see the judge and sign the papers finalizing your adoption.”
Trent saw the elation on Amari’s face but was pretty sure missing school was a part of it.
“Will we have to go before that old mean Judge O’Hara?”
“No. He’s retired. We’ll be going before Judge Davis.”
O’Hara had been the judge originally assigned to the case involving Amari, Crystal, Preston, and Mal’s stolen Ford. When O’Hara tripped and fell and had to be carried out of the courtroom on a stretcher, Judge Amy Davis replaced him and settled the mess to everyone’s satisfaction.
“I wonder if she’ll remember me.”
Trent chuckled. “I’m sure she will, son. You’re the most memorable kid anybody around here has ever met.”
Amari beamed.
Trent held his hand out for the next tool. Amari passed it to him, and Trent asked about something else he had on his mind. “How’re Brain and the colonel doing?”
Amari shrugged. “Better, I guess. Preston said they’re back to playing chess, and that the colonel’s been calmer about the whole birth parent search, but Mrs. Payne has been at her new office a lot. Brain thinks the colonel’s lonely.”
Trent found that surprising. “Really?”
“He says the colonel asks her every morning what time she’s coming home, and every morning she tells him, ‘At the end of the day.’ She told Brain that her answer is the same answer the colonel used to give her when he was working with the marines.”
“Sounds like payback.”
“Pretty much.”
Trent wondered how often the two friends discussed his relationship with Lily and decided that maybe he’d rather not know. “Okay, let’s test these pistons.”
Paula had gone through a number of the many prayers she knew by the time Tamar brought the truck named Olivia to a halt beside an open field. In the warp-speed journey to wherever they were now, they’d made so many twists and turns, some on two wheels, that Paula prayed yet again that her heart would survive the trip back to the trailer. Rocky had been right: tightly buckled seat belts were a necessity.
Tamar glanced over. “You okay, Reverend?”
“I think I may have wet my pants on that last two-wheel turn, but other than that, I’m good.”
Tamar’s eyes were gleaming. “I like you.”
Paula was glad to hear that. She wasn’t sure she could walk at the moment, but Tamar’s approval meant a great deal. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Who is Deborah? Rocky’s music this morning was almost heartbreaking.”
“Deborah was her mom. She committed suicide when Rocky was nine.”
Paula understood now.
“Come. I want to show you this.”
Paula exited the truck and followed Tamar out into the field.
“This is our cemetery. The county plans to bulldoze it next summer.”
Stricken by the news, Paula asked, “Are you trying to stop them?”
“Bernadine’s lawyers are fighting back with everything they have, but this is county land, so we’re not holding out much hope. Ideally, they’d let us inter the remains elsewhere, but the Health Department is saying the remains may be too old, there may be the danger of disease, etcetera, etcetera.”
Paula shook her head sadly.
“We’ll see what happens.”
For the next hour, Paula accompanied Tamar through the overgrown field and listened as she told the stories of the Henry Adams and July ancestors buried there. Paula found the tales of the July outlaws particularly interesting, especially the men Tamar called the Terrible Twins.
“My grandfather Neil and his twin brother, Two Shafts, had different mothers but the same father, and they were born on the same day. Shafts’s mother was Comanche.”
“So in a way they were twins. Why was he called Two Shafts?”
“During an archery competition when he was young he hit the bull’s-eye with two arrows. He was so accurate, the second arrow split the first one right down the middle.”
Paula was impressed. “Does he have descendants in town, too?”
“Never married. Said he didn’t want to father children who could not be free to be Comanche. He suffered a lot after being taken from his parents and sent to one of the so-called civilizing schools. The people in charge cut off the braids of the male children, put the hair in the center of the field, and made the kids watch as it was burned. He never forgot that. He was living alone in the mountains of Arizona when he died in 1910. His July brothers brought the body here and buried him.”
“How did they know he’d passed on? Did someone write to them?”
“No. Tamar, my great-great-grandmother, came to Neil and my aunt Teresa in their dreams and told them. She is known to walk in the dreams of her kin. Even today.”
Paula wondered if this Tamar was all there.
As if sensing Paula’s skepticism, Tamar pinned her with her hawklike gaze. “You’ll find many wonders here, Reverend. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.”
The frozen Paula nodded quickly.
That proved to be valuable advice later on that morning when Tamar drove her to meet Marie Jefferson and Genevieve Curry, and Paula heard the jaw-dropping story of Cletus the hog, his role in the destruction of Genevieve’s home, and the death of a man named Morton Prell.
After Mal drove over and picked up Devon, Sheila Payne paid Lily a visit.
“I have a few invitation mock-ups I want you to choose from.”
Once they were seated in the kitchen, Sheila rifled through her stylish new black satchel and handed Lily the invitations. There were three different versions, and they were all nice—not too frilly or pretentious.
“Crystal designed them,” Sheila revealed.
That made Lily appreciate them even more. She decided on the one she liked best, and Sheila agreed. “That one was my choice, too. Crystal did an outstanding job.”
“Yes, she did. I’ll have to thank her.”
“She wanted to do them for free, but I made her charge me. I thought she should be paid for the beautiful work. She can also add the design to her portfolio for the art schools she’s going to be applying to, and let them know the invitations were commissioned.”
“Good idea.”
They spent a few more minutes talking about the invitations,
and then Sheila asked, “Have you been looking for a suit?”
Lily couldn’t lie. “I haven’t had the time.”
Sheila didn’t fuss, but the look on her face spoke volumes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll start looking.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“And get something gorgeous—not just any suit that will do.”
“Yes, Sheila,” Lily said in mock surrender. “You’re not supposed to know me that well.”
Sheila shot her a smile and glanced at her notes. “I’ve talked with Rocky about the food, and Reverend Grant said she’d be honored to perform the ceremony.”
“I owe her a thank-you, too.”
“Lastly, Bernadine has instructed me to tell you that she will be paying for the honeymoon.”
Lily stilled and waited for the proverbial other shoe to drop. “Where is she sending us?”
“That is a surprise,” she replied. “But she says the weather will be warm, the reservation is set for a week, and she will be handling the flight plans.”
Lily shook her head at Bernadine’s behind-the-back maneuvering.
“I’m also instructed to warn you that should you refuse her wedding gift, you will have to meet her in a cage match.”
Lily howled with laughter.
A smiling Sheila stuck her notes back into her bag.
With the business completed, they had some coffee and kicked back. Lily asked, “So how’s the colonel?”
Sheila paused over her cup. “A bit confused, I believe.”
“By what?”
“Everything. My job. Preston and his search. The idea of having to cook dinner for himself.”
“But you’re only working part-time. Why is he cooking dinner? Is he helping out?”
“Nope. He’s cooking because a few days last week, I didn’t get home until after seven.”
“Why not?”
“Because I chose not to. I sat in my office and caught up on some of my reading, looked over china patterns on the Internet. Mostly I just relaxed. This being a working woman is a wonderful thing.”
Lily saw the mischief in Sheila’s eyes. “You know you’re wrong, right?”
“No, I’m not. I’ve catered to him since the day we met. This job’s helping me grow up and making him do the same.”
“What about Preston?”
“He’s my cheerleader. He told me when I want to stay late, I’m not to worry about him eating because he cooked for himself a lot in foster care. He makes a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”
That made Lily smile. “He should also know that I’ll feed him any time he wants.”
“I believe he knows that, but I’ll make sure.”
“Good.”
“Would you do me another favor?”
“I can certainly try.”
“Have Trent and the other dads see if they can’t come up with something for Barrett to do with his time. There has to be a way for him to give back to the community that doesn’t involve ordering people around.”
“Any suggestions?”
“Not yet, but Barrett’s a good man. The problem is, the marines have spoiled him, and so have I. It may take a while to undo all that damage.”
“I’ll run your idea by Trent.”
“Thanks.”
After Sheila’s departure, Lily picked up her phone. She hadn’t talked to her son, Davis, in over a week, and she wanted to check in. The call went through, but instead of it being answered by his familiar and sunny “Hey, Mom,” she heard instead a female voice ask angrily, “Who is this!”
Taken aback, Lily looked at the display on the phone and, upon determining she hadn’t misdialed, replied, “This is Lily Fontaine, and you are?”
Silence.
“Put my son on the phone.”
The next voice belonged to Davis, and he sounded quite contrite. “Hey, Mom. Sorry about that.”
“Who was that—” She stopped herself before saying “heifer” and replaced it with “woman.”
“Her name’s Jessica. She’s kinda tripping.”
“Kinda?”
“Um, look. Glad you called. I may not be able to make the wedding.”
She was sure she’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”
He sighed. “Jessica wants me to meet her parents Thanksgiving weekend.”
“Did you tell her you have a prior commitment?”
“Yeah, but—”
“She doesn’t care?”
Silence.
“Put her on the phone.”
He chuckled. “Oh, no. Not doing that.”
“I understand, but let me ask you this. How long has she been walking around with your balls in her purse? She can’t be that fine.”
“Mom!” He sounded appalled.
“Just asking. I’ll talk to you later, Davis. Oh, and tell Jessica I can’t wait to meet her.” Lily ended the call.
Hoping the steam pouring out of her ears would dissipate soon, she bounced her head on the table in frustration. First Devon and now this. If Jessica made Davis miss the wedding, she’d be trading in her wedding suit for prison stripes, because she was going to hurt somebody.
Chapter 14
Devon was enjoying watching the Braves play baseball. He liked that Mr. Mal had provided hot dogs, popcorn, and soda, and that for the first time Devon knew more about a subject than Amari. Amari didn’t know a thing about baseball, but Mr. Trent, Mr. Mal, and Mr. Cliff kept praising Devon for his knowledge while Amari steamed.
But watching the game made him think about how much fun it had been sitting in front of the little television back home with his grandma. Devon wanted to go back to Mississippi. There he could be himself instead of whomever the folks in Henry Adams were trying to make him become. He was pretty sure if he could get there, his grandma’s best friend, Ms. Myrtle, would take him in. Better yet, she might even know how to get in touch with his parents. He’d enjoyed being in Henry Adams with Ms. Lily, but he was ready to go home now.
However, there were two major obstacles. He didn’t have a way to get there, nor did he have any money. Both problems would have to be overcome if he were to be successful, so he decided to wait for a sign and go from there.
Mr. Mal lived in a small apartment connected to the Dog. In order to get to the bathroom, it was necessary to walk through his bedroom. During the seventh-inning stretch, Devon excused himself so he could make a quick trip to the bathroom. On his way back, he spotted Mr. Mal’s wallet sitting on top of his dresser. Devon looked around to make sure no one else was coming. He knew stealing was wrong, it said so in the Ten Commandments, but the wallet was lying there calling him, so he went over and opened it. There was a ten-dollar bill inside. Shaking nervously, he stuffed the money in his pocket, put the wallet back where he’d found it, and left the room. He settled himself back in his chair and glued his eyes on the game.
The Braves won.
Mal asked, “Did you enjoy yourself, Devon?”
“Sure did, Mr. Mal.”
Devon could see Amari mimicking him, but he ignored it because real soon Amari and his teasing would be just a memory, if his plans worked out successfully.
“How about we ask Lily if you can come over tomorrow after we finish up out at the Clark place, and watch the start of the American League series?”
“I’d like that.”
“Good.” The men all smiled. Devon felt the pang of guilt about the theft rise inside, but he ignored it the way he had Amari, or at least tried to. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Mal ruffled his hair. “Anytime, buckaroo. And Amari, you need to bone up on the game.”
“I’ll pass. Baseball puts me to sleep. Give me real sports like football or the NBA.”
Minutes later everyone said their good-byes, and Mr. Trent drove Devon and Amari home.
Later that day, emboldened by his successful theft from Mr. Mal, Devon targeted Lily. While she was downstairs watching TV with Mr. Trent, he tiptoed into h
er bedroom and found her purse. Her wallet held two twenties. He pocketed them and slipped back into his room. Fifty dollars was a lot of money. He was pretty sure it would be enough to catch the bus and go home, but he needed to hide it until it was time to leave. His grandma always hid things beneath her mattress, so Devon did the same. Nobody would look there. In the meantime, he had to find out about the bus. He and his grandma always took the bus with the dog on the side when they went out of town. Although he’d yet to see a bus in Henry Adams, he knew there had to be one somewhere.
Downstairs in the living room Lily was seated on the sofa with Trent, and she was fussing about Davis. “How can you not come to your mama’s wedding?”
“You didn’t curse at the girl, did you?”
Lily touched her chest and asked innocently, “Moi? Curse?”
“Oui, vous, Miss I Got a Temper.”
“No. Davis wouldn’t put her on the phone.”
“Smart man.”
“Not smart enough to keep that crazy girl from screening his calls. I asked him how long she’d been carrying his balls in her purse.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. I’m his mother. I’m allowed.”
He chuckled. “You’re a mess, you know that, right?”
She folded her arms and sat back against the couch in a huff. “I just want my son at our wedding. Is that too much to ask?”
He put his arm around her and eased her close. He kissed her angry brow. “No, darlin’, it’s not, so let’s give him some time and space to work things out. He’ll show up, don’t worry.”
“But he’s always been so sensible about his girlfriends. What’s he doing with a jealous controlling hoochie like this Jessica?”
“Every man takes a walk on the wild side at least once in his life.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. Subject closed.”
Lily asked innocently again, “Who was she?”
“Not telling you, so let it go.”
“You didn’t catch anything, did you?”
He looked at her and laughed uproariously. “Come here, you.”
Next thing she knew she was being kissed, slowly, thoroughly, and completely. This version was even more world-rocking than the one last week at the Dog. And when he pulled back slowly and asked as he traced her lips with a slow finger, “Any more questions, Fontaine?” all she could do was whisper, “No.”