by Angela Henry
“Yeah, I know. It’s always important. You always want ole’ Lewis to help you out but there ain’t never nothin’ in it for me,” he pouted. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
“Okay, I get it. You want money, right?” I reached into my purse and pulled out a five-dollar bill. Lewis turned his nose up in disgust.
“I ain’t never taken a dime from no woman ‘cept my mama in all my life,” he said indignantly with his head held high. “But there’s something else you could give me that would make me real happy.” He was leering at my breasts.
I hit him over the head with my purse. He dropped the paper on the ground behind him. We both lunged for it. Lewis shoved me out of the way and got to it first…again. He started dancing around the parking lot waving it in the air while I chased him. The little booger was quick and as slippery as a greased pig. Finally, I resorted to the one thing that seemed to work on men every time. I started to cry. I leaned against my car and started sobbing.
“Oh come on now, Kelly. I was just playin’ wit you, girl.” He was still panting from his romp around the lot.
“Then give me that paper and my name is Kendra!” I wailed.
“Look, girl, I need this job. If Ms. Flack finds out I done gave somethin’ a hers to somebody else, she’ll fire ole’ Lewis. You gonna support my ass when she boots me outta here?”
“She doesn’t even realize she dropped it, so how’s she going to know you gave it to me?”
He thought for a moment and then grinned at me slyly. “Okay, I’ll give it to ya. But you got to do somethin’ for me in return, baby doll.”
I raised my purse again and he flinched. “Naw, it ain’t nothin’ like that. See, you got a filthy mind, Kelly.”
“What is it you want?” I said through gritted teeth.
“There’s an annual ball in Dayton next weekend. I go every year. I was gonna take my lady, ‘till she left me. I wanna go but I cain’t show up alone. Not ole’ Lewis, Mr. Playa Playa himself. How ‘bout I give you this paper, and you be my date to the ball.”
I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. This was not happening. I really needed to see what had upset Ms. Flack so much. I sure wasn’t planning on having to make a deal with the devil to do it. Damn! Lewis started to walk away with the paper and I panicked.
“All right, whatever! Just give me that paper.” I followed him. He turned and grinned at me before shoving the paper in my hand.
“It’s a deal then. And don’t try and hide from me, girl. I know where ya live. I’ll be pickin’ you up a week from this Saturday at seven thirty sharp.” I turned my back on him and headed for my car.
“Oh, and Kelly,” he called out before I could get to my car.
“What!” I screamed in frustration.
“You ain’t exactly lookin’ real fly right now. I hope you can get it togetha by next weekend. Ole’ Lewis has standards, ya know.” He looked me up and down. I did a slow burn as I watched him walk into the building whistling without a care in the world. I didn’t know what I was more freaked out about, the fact that I had a date with Lewis Watts, or that he knew where I lived. Eew!
I got in my car and smoothed out the paper. It was torn right down the middle. I had the right half of the letter. It turned out to be from a Department of Corrections. The picture of the state of Ohio on the seal on the half I had told me it must be the Ohio Department of Corrections. From what I could make out, the letter was informing someone that somebody by the last name of Vermillion was going to be released from prison. The date of the release, the inmate’s first name, and the name of the person the letter was addressed to must be on the other half of the letter that Ms. Flack had. I wondered who this Vermillion person was and couldn’t wait until I met Ms. Flack for lunch so I could try and pry it out of her.
Later that afternoon, before I headed to lunch with Ms. Flack, I went to the drugstore to pick up a prescription for Mama. It was so crowded I had to wait for almost half an hour. I was in the magazine aisle flipping through the latest issue of People, when I spotted a familiar figure brush past me on their way to the greeting cards. It was Vanessa. I watched her as she perused the birthday cards for men. She was so engrossed she didn’t even notice me. I had a sick feeling I knew who the heifer was picking out a card for. Carl’s birthday was on Sunday. At least it would be if I let him live that long.
“Shouldn’t you be shopping for baby clothes?” I approached her and she jumped.
“It’s not nice to sneak up on a pregnant woman,” she said and turned back to the cards.
“Just like it’s not nice to dump your marital problems with your new husband on the ex-husband you left high and dry,” I remarked casually.
“Last time I looked, Carl was old enough to make his own decisions and if he didn’t want to be bothered with me, he would have told me, which he hasn’t.” She glared at me.
“Carl’s too nice for his own good, which makes it easy for people like you to take advantage of him and—”
“Oh, shut up!” she yelled, cutting me off and causing people to turn and stare at us. “I’ve known Carl for a hell of a lot longer than you have and we’ll always have a special bond whether we’re married or not. He wants to be there for me. So, you better get used to it.”
“If you were tending to your own man, you wouldn’t have problems to bother my man about? And by the way, do you even know who the father of your baby is this time?” I spat out at her, getting loud myself. Vanessa started shaking and her face turned tomato red.
“Bitch!” She took a step closer.
“Skank!” I stepped up to meet her. I knew I couldn’t punch a pregnant woman, but I wasn’t going to run from one, either.
“Ladies!” said a voice behind us. We turned and saw the pharmacist, a short, elderly bull-dog of a man come charging down the aisle. “If you can’t behave any better than this, I’ll have to insist you leave at once.”
“Gladly.” Vanessa tossed the card in her hand on the floor and walked out of the drugstore.
I slunk off and hid in the candy aisle until Mama’s prescription was ready.
Ms. Flack was almost fifteen minutes late for lunch. When she finally arrived, she didn’t look any happier than she had earlier that morning, and looked uncharacteristically dishelved.
“You okay?” I asked as she slid into the booth. I was disappointed to see that she’d brought a different purse with her than the one she had earlier, which meant I wouldn’t get a chance to snoop through it and find the other half of the letter.
“Fine,” she assured me, picking up the menu and glancing at it before tossing it back down on the table when our server approached to take our orders. We both ordered tuna melts and fries.
“What’s up? You said it was important,” she asked when our server walked away.
“It’s about last week when you fell down the cafeteria steps.”
She looked confused and asked, “What about it?”
I told her about the other accidents I, Cherisse, Gerald, and Audrey had had. I also told her about the message wrapped rock that had been thrown through my window and the message left on Audrey’s voice mail. As I talked, I could see the color drain from her face. When I finished, she looked at me and burst into tears.
I instinctively grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
She reached inside her purse, pulled out a piece of paper, and slid it across the table at me. I got excited because I assumed it was the other half of the letter from the Department of Corrections. It wasn’t. On the paper was a message made up of large irregular letters cut from a magazine. It said, “You Will Pay For What You Did.”
Chapter Eight
“WHERE DID YOU GET this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice down. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I handed her my napkin and she blew her nose before replying.
“I found it taped to the round table in the cafeteria before the emergency meeting last week right before we set up the table.”
�
�I didn’t see this on the table. Where was I when you found it?”
“Your back was turned. I saw it and stuffed it in my pocket.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?”
“Because I’ve been having problems with a group of tenth grade girls. Everyday I’ve had one of these kids in my office because of fighting. I just thought it was one of my summer school warrior princesses who’d left it to harass someone they’d been in a fight with. I just gave them all a warning and never gave it a second thought.”
“Someone is targeting the reunion committee for some reason. I’ve already reported what happened to me to the police this morning. You all need to talk to them, too. It’s the only way they’ll take it seriously enough to look into it.”
“I can call another emergency meeting and have someone from the police department there to talk to us all,” she suggested. I agreed and she said she’d schedule a meeting for the next night.
Our food arrived and we ate silently. She didn’t seem to be nearly as upset as she had earlier but there were things that were still bothering me. Why did she hold onto the note when she thought it was no big deal and who did she know who was getting out of prison soon?
After two excruciating hours of looking at Dr. Petra Garvey’s pointy shoulder blades every time she turned to write on the board, I went to the store and got a roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes from the deli, and some fresh asparagus from the produce section. I called Carl on the way home to invite him over for dinner and makeup sex. He didn’t answer his phone. I left a message and went home, got everything ready, and even put on a little black dress and heels.
Carl didn’t call back. So, I called him again. There was still no answer. Only this time, the phone went straight to voice mail, indicating that he was either talking to someone else and not bothering to answer my calls or the phone was turned off. Of course I was imagining all kinds of scenarios, all of them involving Vanessa Brumfield-Carver, and none of them platonic. An hour later, with still no call from Carl, I decided two could play this game. I tossed the now dried out chicken in the trash, called Morris Rollins and asked if he wanted to meet at Estelle’s for a late dinner, touched up my perfume, and headed out.
“So, what’d he do?” Rollins asked halfway through dinner. Up until that point we’d been having a great time laughing, talking, and flirting. It certainly never occurred to me that he’d think my calling him out of the blue to have dinner was anything out of the ordinary. My ego told me he’d jump at the chance to spend time with me. No questions asked. As usual, my ego was wrong.
“Hmm? What do mean,” I asked after swallowing a mouthful of Fettuccini Alfredo. He laughed his full-bodied laugh while I continued to stare at him in faux confusion.
“You know exactly what I mean. You and Carl must have had an argument or he stood you up for a date. Whatever’s going on with the two of you, I’m under no illusions that you got all decked out in that sexy little dress just for me,” he concluded dryly.
I didn’t know what to say. I was embarrassed. Instead of trying to convince him otherwise, I filled him in on what had been going on with Carl and Vanessa. He listened intently before commenting.
“I won’t lie and tell you not to worry. He pulled slowly on his goatee. I could tell he was trying to find just the right words to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. “Pregnancy affects men in strange ways. Marriages come and go, but a child is forever and a big commitment between two people. Carl might be realizing that—” His voice trailed off before he could finish but I had sick feeling I knew what he was getting at.
“You mean Vanessa re-marrying probably wasn’t any big deal to Carl because as you’ve just said, marriages come and go, but her having a child with someone else means she’s truly moved on?”
Rollins shook his head yes.
My God. Was that what Carl’s problem was? Had he been secretly hoping he and Vanessa would get back together one day? I’d started dating Carl the week before his divorce from Vanessa had become final. Had he been simply killing time with me until he could find his way back into her life and her getting pregnant ruined his game plan? No. I just refused to believe that was true.
“Sorry, Reverend, I don’t buy it.” I shook my head angrily and tossed my napkin on the table.
“Well then what do you think is going on?” He was looking at me like he felt sorry for me and I wanted to scream.
“Carl isn’t the kind of man who’s going to turn his back on someone in need even if it is his ex-wife. I think Vanessa is using her marital problems to worm her way back into Carl’s life not the other way around. I just wish he wasn’t so naive when it came to her,” I concluded huffily. I looked at him and saw that his lips were twitching. What was so damned funny?
“So you are capable of seeing a situation for what it truly is. Logic does somehow manage to prevail in that pretty head of yours.” He laughed a little too condescendingly for my taste. He’d used reverse psychology on me and I’d fallen for it without even realizing what he’d been up to. I felt my face start to burn and my lips went tight with anger. I didn’t speak and instead turned my attention back to my meal.
An awkward silence ensued as we continued eating and I felt bad. I’d lured him to dinner under false pretenses then unloaded my problems on him and he’d just tried to help me. I wasn’t being a very good sport. We looked up from our plates at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” we said in unison then laughed.
After dinner, we ordered the Wednesday dessert special of strawberry shortcake. While we savored the fluffy biscuits dripping in luscious strawberries, covered in clouds of whipped cream, I couldn’t help but notice two women sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant three booths down from us. They were leaning close together whispering. One woman was black, looked to be in her late thirties, and was dressed in jeans and a blue silk blouse and a matching denim blazer. Her hair was curly and held back from her face with a multicolored silk scarf. She looked upset. The other woman’s back was to me. But I could see she was a full-figured blonde white woman in her late twenties. She was dressed in the same black sundress she’d worn when I’d last seen her except this time she’d tried to dress it up with a red fringed shawl. It was Audrey Grant. Whatever they were talking about, it looked pretty intense and I couldn’t help but stare.
“You know them?” Rollins asked, glancing over to see who I was looking at.
“I went to high school with the blonde.” I continued to watch.
Audrey’s companion abruptly stood up, causing Audrey to grab both her hands and try to pull her back down into the booth. They were still whispering angrily and I couldn’t hear what they were saying but could tell by the tone of Audrey’s voice that she was pleading with the woman about something. The woman pulled out of Audrey’s grasp and rushed out of the restaurant.
I excused myself and went over to say hello and to ask if Ms. Flack had contacted her about the emergency reunion committee meeting. It took two hellos and me finally waving my hand in Audrey’s face to get her to acknowledge my presence. She stared up at me with tear-filled eyes.
“Audrey, are you okay? Who was that woman?” I sat down across from her. At the mention of her companion, Audrey looked so startled I thought she might faint.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” She grabbed her purse and stood up so fast she knocked her drink over and it spilled down the front of her dress. “Shit,” she said, sitting back down and trying to sop up the wet mess with a napkin. I tried to help her, but she angrily slapped my hands away.
I looked over at Rollins and saw that he was about to get up and come over but I put up a hand to stop him, fearing Audrey would try and bolt again if he did. Then I remembered what Dennis had told me about her taking an overdose of sleeping pills the summer after we graduated. Was she distraught enough to do something like that again?
“Audrey, you know that you can talk to me if you need to,” I said softly. She l
ooked up abruptly.
“And why the hell would I need to talk to you?” she snapped back.
“I can tell you’re very upset. I just want to make sure you’re okay and that you don’t do anything stupid.”
She stared at me like I was insane and then it seemed to hit her. She probably realized I knew what she’d done all those years ago. She got up and left and I followed her out the door.
“Dennis told me about the sleeping pills. Please don’t do anything stupid.”
She stopped and whirled around to face me. “I don’t know what the hell it is you think you know about me. But you need to mind your own fucking business. This doesn’t have anything to do with you. And the next time I see that fat bastard, Dennis Kirby, I’m going to tell him the same thing.”
I watched her hurry off down the street and went back inside the restaurant. I was headed back to my table when a voice stopped me.
“So, what’s the deal, Clayton? You thinkin’ ‘bout switchin’ to the all girl team?” said Joy Owens, one of the other hostesses that works at Estelle’s.
Though Joy looked like a juvenile delinquent, she was actually twenty-three and had recently graduated with an art degree from Kingford College. She was easily one of the most graceless people I knew. When artistic talent had been handed out, Joy got a double helping, but she’d bypassed the line that handed out charm. She was also a lesbian, hence her comment, though to be honest I could never figure out what her past girlfriends had seen in her. She must have mad game when it came to the ladies.
“Are you talking to me?” I asked with a sigh. I looked over and saw that Rollins was still cooling his heels waiting for me at our table.
“You don’t see nobody else named Clayton standin’ here do you?” Her arms were crossed and she was rolling her neck with attitude.
“Bye, Joy.” I started to walk past her but she blocked the way.