Collard Greens and Catfishing

by Kelsey Browning

  Barnes’ head came up, and he stared openmouthed at Teague. “Huh?”

  “Yeah,” Abby Ruth said, “Jenny’s card was run up by a couple hundred bucks.”

  Teague swung around to goggle at Abby Ruth. “Jenny’s registered on The Perfect Fit?”

  “Not anymore,” she muttered.

  “Teague, you gotta understand,” Barnes pleaded. “I wanted to find someone special. Dating’s hard in a town this size, and figured I might have more luck if I broadened my search. The online dating thing is so hot right now, but I knew I couldn’t compete against some of those other guys. Ones that make more money and are better-looking.”

  It was damned hard to fault the man for searching for the woman of his dreams. Teague didn’t have to search. He knew who his dream woman was, but right now, Jenny seemed as far away as Barnes’ perfect woman.

  Still, he reached for his phone and called in. “I need a transport to the county jail at 555 Pecan Orchard Street, and I need someone to go round up James Barnes.”

  Angelina came barreling into her neighbor’s yard, waving at the destruction behind her. Although she was dressed like the Good Witch, she was wailing like a wicked one out of control. “What on heaven’s earth have y’all done to my yard? Who is going to pay for my fence?” She spun around to Abby Ruth. “You are nothing but a walking disaster.”

  “Excuse me, Angelina.” Teague yanked Barnes out of the pond and frog-marched him to the front yard. The grannies trailed along behind them. Within minutes, one of his other deputies pulled up, and Teague escorted Barnes to the patrol car’s backseat. He said to his deputy, “Don’t ask. I’ll be right behind you to process him.”

  He turned back to the grannies, finally registering that something furry was hunkered down on Aunt Bibi’s shoulder. Could this night get any more surreal?

  “His name is Peter,” she said and stepped over to put her non-monkey-bearing arm around Teague. “I’m really sorry about all this.”

  “Me too. Barnes has always been a good guy. But if he was defrauding folks, he needed to be stopped.” He smiled at the three women, but his mouth muscles felt fatigued. This was bad enough, but it was clear Barnes or his nephew James were behind those fraudulent charges on Sue Ellen’s credit card too. Plus, three others had come forward with small charges on their cards recently. All for little things like candy, flowers, cheap jewelry, books, and services less than one hundred dollars each. No. Things didn’t look good for Barnes. “Y’all done good. But next time, do you think you could bring me in on things a little earlier?”

  Abby Ruth bumped him with her hip, sending her monkey swaying. The critter steadied himself by grabbing onto Teague’s cowboy hat. “Well, I figure you’re gonna need another deputy now. And I know just the woman for the job.”

  Lord help Bartell County if he ever let Abby Ruth loose on them.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lil watched from the kitchen pass-thru as the Federal Bureau of Prisons team enjoyed the dinner she’d planned. The girls would have made even the best chef in the world proud today. Not only had they provided a five-star presentation, but the smiles and nods coming from the white-clothed cafeteria table were nothing short of a standing ovation.

  Now, all she had to do was get through the mock interviews, and they were home free.

  Janisse, one of Martha’s loyal posse, stopped and showed Lillian the tray of desserts before they were presented to their visitors.

  Lillian raised a hand to her chest. “Simply lovely.” Although she needed to hustle across the building to set up the classroom, she watched for long enough to gauge the group’s response to the banana pudding. If their closed eyes and moans were anything to go on, they’d passed this part of the test.

  Once in the classroom, she placed a lesson plan sheet in each seat, as she always did. The back row seats held a booklet outlining the entire etiquette curriculum for the BOP folks.

  And although most of the women in the upcoming session were in Martha’s hip pocket, Lil just couldn’t relax. Martha no longer needed Lil to solve her problem, which meant Martha could have her girls turn on Lil.

  Warden Proctor walked into the classroom with the parade of people following her, including Martha. Lillian glanced up at the clock. Right on schedule. The inmates would be here in exactly eight minutes.

  Everything was going according to plan.

  The warden led the BOP group to the special seats in the back of the room and motioned for Lillian.

  Suddenly, anxiety choked Lil. Ridiculous. She’d been in social situations her entire life. She just needed to pretend this was a library fundraiser or something of the sort.

  Martha leaned in and said, “You’ve got this, Miss H&M.”

  “Come with me.” She and Martha walked down the aisle toward the guests of honor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the warden began, “this is Inmate Fairview and Inmate Davilo. They organized your meal this evening. Inmate Fairview has started an extensive etiquette series here at Walter Stiles. The classes have been instrumental in changing both the behavior and the mindset of many of our women. As their social skills have improved, altercation rates have gone down, and we’re discovering our new releases are getting better jobs. But we didn’t want to stop there, so Inmate Fairview has put together a special session on dressing for success and interviewing effectively.”

  Beside Lil, Martha shifted her weight from side to side. Which meant she was waiting for her helping of praise.

  The warden said, “Inmate Fairview, why don’t you tell our guests a little about tonight’s class.”

  Looked like she’d have to be the one to pat Martha on the back. “Thank you, Warden,” she said. “The booklets I placed in your seats include the lesson plans from the inception of this project until tonight’s session. You’ll see we’ve covered everything from proper hygiene and posture to table etiquette. If you have any questions about previous lessons or how we’ve tracked progress, I’d be happy to discuss that with you.” She smiled and paused for effect. “Now, for today, I’m very excited to bring you one of the most important sessions we’ve put together. Martha—” Lillian pulled her forward, “—and I have worked closely on this session. The etiquette classes will certainly help our inmates develop a sense of confidence and assist them in social situations that may not have been commonplace prior to their stay at Walter Stiles. However, we all know job placement is one of the most important hurdles those exiting the program contend with. Martha, why don’t you tell them a little about what we have planned for this evening?”

  Martha stood straight and made eye contact with the group. She even gave them a professional smile. “Tonight, we’ll be taking these inmates through a mock interview process in their chosen fields, which I think you’ll find is a great way to prepare them for a real interview.” She glanced toward the warden. “May I bring our job candidates in?”

  “Please do,” the warden said.

  The BOP team watched intently. There wasn’t a smile or look of encouragement from the bunch.

  Lillian walked back to the desk at the front of the room and glanced down at her notes. She picked up the stack of folders she’d prepared and when she looked up, they slipped from her grasp and hit the floor. Papers slid every which way and she squatted down and scooped them toward her. When she stood, she blinked several times, but the scene in front of her didn’t improve.

  Not a drop of khaki—any of the three shades the prison seemed to think were appropriate for mix-and-match—in the entire bunch. What might’ve made her happy under any other circumstance heated her face and chilled her hands.

  Her face a little paler than normal, Martha walked up to join Lillian.

  Was this Martha’s way of getting back at her?

  Lillian turned as if to put some folders back on the table and hissed close to Martha’s ear. “What have you done?”

  “I didn’t do this,” Martha said, her voice high and tight. “I swear.”

&n
bsp; Lord, Lil would give anything to just run right out of the room and never stop running. Maybe run all the way back home to Summer Haven.

  Each of the twenty ladies had transformed her uniform into business attire. One in a black dyed “suit” she’d fashioned from a long-sleeved top, cut down the center and refastened with what appeared to be foil-covered buttons, and a skirt made from a pair of cutoff pants with the center seams ripped out and resewn. Frankly, the hem work was excellent and the buttons were smooth, not a wrinkle anywhere in the foil. Another wore a green sleeveless top with hemmed arm holes and a very short skirt that Lil was relieved to see had little shorts underneath.

  One of the Bureau of Prisons team members stood, and Lillian swore she heard the warden suck air. “This is a violation of even our minimum uniform regulations,” the BOP woman said.

  Hand over her mouth, Martha shook her head, and by the greenish-khaki hue of Warden Proctor’s face, she was about to lose the lovely dinner the girls had so carefully cooked and served.

  Remember, Lil, you can hold your head up among even the hoitiest of the toities. You will convince these people to give you what you want.

  Which meant pretending this was business as usual and conducting her class.

  Lillian held up her hand for forestall more comments. “This is a controlled experiment, and I hope you’ll bear with us. We’ve found that our inmates have responded quite nicely to these creative types of…” Her legs were like rapidly melting butter. She’d lost her train of thought and quite frankly if God would just strike her dead right now, it would be a blessing. Lillian turned around and took a sip of water. “How could you do this to me?” she whispered to Martha.

  Martha dropped her hand from her face and stared at Lil as though she’d just told her to jump on the table, strip naked and put on a show. “You sure don’t think much of me, do you?” She elbowed her way around Lil and said, “You should know the inmates created their business attire by using a stack of old uniforms. We thought it would be the perfect way to show how the prisoners here can recycle resources which have otherwise been written off by the BOP. I think you’ll agree it’s creative and cost effective.”

  Clearly proud of their accomplishment, the inmates nodded and smiled.

  “The old uniforms were faded, but they were better made than the ones we wear now.” Martha motioned to the inmate in the first seat. “Step up here for me, so we can show off your handiwork.”

  The woman wearing the suit walked—with perfect posture—to the front of the classroom.

  Martha strolled around her. “Nice. Black business suit with silver buttons. Tell us about your…briefcase.”

  “Louis Vuitton,” the girl said, lifting the makeshift purse made from a library book covered in brown fabric and embellished with what appeared to be gold glitter paint, “ish.”

  Lillian opened her folder and began to play along. “I’m pleased you ladies have taken this opportunity so seriously. We know how important appearances and first impressions are, so putting your best foot forward can be what helps you get the job you want. And you’ll be interviewing for the lead sales associate here at Chic Boutique today, correct?” she said to the inmate.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the inmate responded.

  “Please have a seat—” she indicated a small table with two chairs, “—and we’ll begin.”

  Before sitting, the inmate held out her hand and said, “Hello, my name is Janisse, and I’m here to interview for the sales associate position. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Lil’s heart swelled. What she was doing here was making a difference. “Lillian Summer Fairview. The pleasure is all mine.” They both sat, and Lillian asked, “Tell me a little about yourself.”

  “I’ve worked in retail on and off for the past ten years. You’ll see on my resume—” the woman pulled a sheet of paper from her Louis Vuitton-ish bag and handed it to Lillian, “—I’ve held positions in both large department stores and small boutiques. Although I enjoyed all my jobs, I like the specialty boutique environment better.”

  Lil could’ve reached across the table and snatched this gal up in a hug, but she forced herself to limit her reaction to a smile. “Why is that?”

  “Uh…” Janisse’s gaze darted from Lil to Martha to the warden and back again. “Because…”

  You can do it, Janisse. Lil gave her an encouraging smile. “Maybe something to do with the customers?”

  “Oh, yeah. I mean, yes. In a small store, there’s more opportunity to get to know your clients and help them choose clothes they not only like, but look and feel good in.”

  “Why are you the best candidate for sales associate at Chic Boutique?”

  “I’m mature enough to know retail is my chosen profession instead of a less experienced teenager who works in a store for spending money. I don’t mind working weekends and you can count on me to show up on time, ready to work.”

  Lil shot a quick glance Martha’s way to catch her doing a little fist pump down by her hip. Then she turned back to the inmate. “Thank you so much for coming by today. We’ll be making our choice later this week.”

  The inmate stood and held out her hand again. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  After the retail candidate, the girl in the skort came forward and did a bang-up job interviewing for a scheduling position at a golf and tennis club.

  Lillian glanced at the clock. They’d used fifty-five minutes of their allotted sixty. “Our guests will be leaving in just a few moments, so now I’d like to give them a chance to ask a few questions.” She walked to the back of the room and stood with her hands lightly clasped behind her back. Even if these people dragged her over hot coals, she wouldn’t change a thing about this evening’s class. The girls had been amazing.

  The woman who’d complained about the so-called uniforms spoke up again. “You’ve destroyed federal property by altering those inmate uniforms. Do you feel that stealing and vandalism is setting a good example for these women?”

  Lord have mercy. Some people were just born into the world to make trouble, and it appeared this woman was one of them. “You have to give these inmates points for creativity and taste. They took uniforms that otherwise would’ve been surplussed and altered them to make for a more realistic mock-interview situation. I don’t believe they should be faulted for that. Besides, all these skills, creative thinking included, will allow them to go back out and rebuild productive ties to their communities.”

  Martha chimed in, “Of course, not everyone wants to be a sales associate or a golf pro, so we did work with each inmate on realistic opportunities. You can’t deny we have some excellent chefs in the making.”

  The BOP team looked at each other and nodded, the one woman reluctantly, but she was moving her head in the right direction.

  Lillian continued, “This curriculum could be easily replicated across other camps and low-level security facilities with high success. I’d be happy to share my lesson plans. In addition, reusing old uniforms for other creative projects could be a morale booster and a cost saver.”

  “Upcycling is huge right now,” Martha added. “Doing something like this shows the world the BOP is innovative, yet money smart.

  “Exactly,” Lillian said. “Reusing older uniforms could help balance your squeezed budgets without shortchanging the re-skilling programs that this type of facility offers. You can thank Martha for the beautification program. She was quite innovative in finding ways to put the inmates to work keeping the place looking nice by upcycling things already in use here in that way too.”

  Heads were nodding around the room, and Martha was grinning.

  Maybe Martha’d forgive her yet for not finding out what she needed about her niece’s kooky admirer.

  “Ladies, before our guests leave,” Lil said, “I’d like to ask you to stand and let our esteemed visitors have another look at your outfits.”

  The inmates stood. Good posture. Pleasant smiles. They were as fresh and sh
iny as first graders with their new lunch boxes. Lillian had never felt prouder.

  The warden stood and the BOP walked toward the door, the warden falling in step at the very back of the line.

  Warden Proctor stopped and shook Martha’s hand and thanked her, and then leaned into Lil and whispered. “I have a letter to write.” She leaned back. “Thank you.”

  The door clicked behind them and the inmates sat quietly until they heard the buzz of the next two doors, indicating their guests were out of earshot.

  The inmates hooted and hollered and danced around Martha and Lillian.

  “Were you surprised?” the women asked.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Martha said.

  Lillian hugged Martha. “I thought I was so SOL. You really didn’t know anything about this?”

  “Not a thing.” Martha laughed, and pointed to a girl’s turquoise pinstriped suit. “I know where my nail polish went, though.”

  “Thank you for stepping in and saving me earlier when I couldn’t think of a thing to say. I want you to know I’m sorry Maggie and the others weren’t able to get that dating site information when you needed it. Regardless, I’m happy your niece is out of harm’s way. Even if I didn’t get my half of the deal.”

  “Miss H&M, you did your part. I called my guy yesterday. He’s already put you on his schedule to get out to your house.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course. I’m a woman of my word. I thought everyone knew that.”

  Lil had to admit that was true. But usually Martha was good to her word on threats, not favors. Maybe they were all learning some lessons here at Walter Stiles Prison Camp.

  * * *

  Maggie watched the Mrs. Potts Pots truck trundle off, its flatbed loaded with the hot pink portable potties as planned this morning. They were the last distraction at the otherwise spic-and-span Summer Haven.

  Martha had come through with her septic guy. They must’ve showed up right after Maggie and Sera left for the party. When they’d gotten home, the guys were still working under floodlights. She and the other gals had been so tired after all that Deputy Barnes brouhaha, they hadn’t even cared about the septic ruckus. Lo and behold, not only had Martha’s people fixed the potty problem, but they’d even sumped out the hole and laid sod over the spot.