Convincing Jamey

by Pappano, Marilyn

  Just before she closed the door, she echoed his words but gave them an entirely different feel. Optimistic. Confident. Downright cheerful. “That’s right. We’ll see.”

  Chapter 6

  Over the following week Karen managed to convince virtually everyone she came into contact with that she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Anyone put to a vote, she thought late Saturday afternoon, would probably choose stupid. Although street parties had been common a generation ago, no one had hosted one in years, and no one felt safe attending one. Even Shawntae, who’d spent hours Saturday, Sunday and the next Friday and Saturday mornings working with Karen in the park, thought the idea outrageous. Even she, who recognized and even shared a little of Karen’s stubbornness, wasn’t convinced that attending the cookout wouldn’t put her and her son’s lives in danger.

  Maybe no one would show up, as Jamey and Reid had insisted. Maybe she was going to the effort for nothing. Maybe she would be disappointed. That was why she’d bought food that could be easily frozen—hamburger meat, wieners and buns—or would last indefinitely—pickles, mustard, canned soda. If no one showed up, she would eat salad every day for lunch and dinner until the pounds of lettuce, tomatoes and onions were gone, and then she and Jethro would eat burgers and hot dogs for the next year or so until all the meat was gone, too. She wouldn’t be out anything but the ice.

  She had set up a folding table on the side porch, with the charcoal grill she’d bought and assembled yesterday at the bottom of the steps. Bags of potato chips, jars of condiments and foil pans filled with brownies covered most of the table. An ice chest held cold soda, and the hamburger patties were chilling in the kitchen, along with the vegetables. She was laying out paper plates and napkins when her first guest arrived.

  The young woman didn’t look familiar, which meant nothing down here. There were plenty of people in the neighborhood she’d never seen or had caught only glimpses of when they’d refused to fully open their doors to her or when they scurried out on their way to work in the morning. This woman, though, didn’t look like a Serenity resident. Her clothes were different. Her manner was different. She had a level of elegance that no one on the street could come close to matching, including Karen herself. She was even more of an outsider, if that was possible, than Karen.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Karen Montez.”

  “That’s me.”

  The woman’s gaze shifted to the party preparations. “You’re expecting guests. I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to interrupt—”

  “You’re not interrupting anything. I’m trying to host the first monthly Serenity Street cookout, but I’ve been warned repeatedly that no one will come. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Cassie Wade.”

  Karen looked blankly at her for a moment, then the name clicked. “Jolie’s sister, the youngest Wade. How nice to meet you.” She offered her hand, and Cassie took it in a firm shake. “I take it your sister has no idea that you’re down here this evening.”

  Cassie’s smile was dry. “She would have used her connections to have me arrested if she’d known. I would appreciate it if you don’t tell her about my visit. I’m not asking you to lie,” she said hastily. “Just don’t volunteer the information.” She glanced around, first at the house and the shabby yard, then at the street. When she turned back to Karen, her expression was calm, steady and, deep in those brown eyes, just a teensy bit intrigued. “Jolie told me about your project down here. We may have moved from Serenity when I was a child, but the entire family still finds interest in it—from a safe distance, of course. I understand you’ll be relying on volunteers, and I would like to offer my services. I have a degree in English but no particular skills for this type of work. However, I can answer the phone and take messages. I have my own car, so I could play chauffeur. I can entertain the children. I work eight to five, but my evenings and weekends are usually free, so I would be available then.”

  That was a shame, Karen thought. Cassie Wade was entirely too pretty to be sitting home alone nights. The men of New Orleans were definitely losing out. “I would be happy to accept whatever help is offered,” she said, “but nighttime isn’t exactly the best time to be on Serenity, especially for a young woman alone.”

  “What neighborhood is safe at night for a woman alone?” Cassie asked with a shrug. “I know Serenity. I’ve heard the stories. My brothers and sisters have all lost friends here. They’ve all sworn never to come back here.”

  “Why are you willing to?”

  Another shrug as the woman turned to look across the yard to the street. “I have a good job. I make decent money—good money, in fact,” she said with a wry smile, “since I live in Smith’s condo and don’t pay rent. I have friends with good jobs. We take vacations together—we went to London after Christmas, to Paris last summer. I live a very comfortable life... and I feel as if something’s missing. I’m doing a lot of receiving and very little giving, and I believe it’s time to change that.”

  “You could do volunteer work in other places that aren’t so dangerous.”

  The smile turned cool, dismissive. “The level of need isn’t the same in other places that aren’t so dangerous.”

  Karen studied her for a moment. For the sake of her friendship with Jolie, she felt that she should seriously try to dissuade the younger Wade, but Cassie was an adult—with a brilliant mind, if Karen recalled Jolie’s proud boasting correctly—and she certainly seemed to have given her decision some thought. She wasn’t acting on impulse. She wasn’t walking into a situation blind. She was aware of Serenity’s problems and wanted to be part of the solutions. Karen wasn’t going to insult her by treating her as if she were ill-informed, naive or foolish. She had gotten enough of that herself.

  As movement across the street—Shawntae and her mother, holding tightly to J.T. between them—caught her eye, she smiled and extended her hand once more. “Welcome to Serenity Street and Kathy’s House. Your first official duty will be attending the cookout this evening. Even if only three people come, we’ll consider it a success and try harder next time.”

  The Williamses joined them a moment later. Karen introduced everyone, then went inside to bring out the chairs from the dining room. When she came back out, Alicia had joined the group, along with a quiet, white-haired woman named Rosa. While they waited for the coals to burn down, they chatted, just like guests at any number of cookouts in the city this evening, but there was an uneasy air, as if everyone was ready to bolt on a moment’s notice. J.T.’s play with Jethro was confined to the back third of the yard, away from the fence and the street, and the women sat facing the street, ever vigilant.

  Six-fifteen came and went. By six-thirty, the coals were ready. While Cassie brought out everything else, Karen got the burgers and hot dogs for J.T. on the grill. The meat was almost done when her next guests arrived: Jamey and eight customers from the bar, each carrying a chair. As the men settled in the yard, Jamey joined Karen at the grill.

  “I didn’t expect to see you.” Though it was true, she would have been disappointed if he hadn’t come. More than anyone else on the street, she had wanted him to have enough faith in her to show up.

  “I didn’t intend to come,” he admitted. “But I figured everyone can use a free meal from time to time.”

  Especially since he knew some of his regulars might be hungry, knew that, even so, they never would have come on their own. “Thanks for bringing them.” She accepted a platter of hamburger patties from Cassie, then motioned to the younger woman to wait. “Jamey, this is Cassie, one of our volunteers. Cassie, this is Jamey O’Shea, who owns the bar across the street, looks out for the people of Serenity and has little faith in our ability to accomplish anything here.”

  Cassie acknowledged him with a polite nod before disappearing inside again. Maybe she was shy, but more likely she hadn’t counted on meeting so soon anyone with a tie to her family. Remembering how quickly Jamey had called Jo
lie on her, Karen thought retreat was probably the wisest move Cassie could have made.

  “Another do-gooder, huh?” Jamey was looking after her, but all he could see was the screen door and a few feet of hallway. “I have a suggestion. Once Morgan’s gang gathers in the park tonight, just send her down there for a stroll. She could lead them all away, like the Pied Piper—preferably to the river, where they could fall in and drown.”

  “She is pretty, isn’t she?”

  “Too pretty to be down here. Too smart, too young, too delicate.” He grimaced. “I forget. Am I talking about her or you?”

  Karen blamed the grill for the heat that moved through her face. Pretty, smart, young, delicate. She would settle for any one of the four adjectives to describe herself. To be favored with all four of them was enough to go to a woman’s head. Before she could bask too long in the glow, though, he turned serious again.

  “She doesn’t need to be down here, Karen.”

  “No one needs to be here, Jamey. Come on, don’t start, please. This is a party. People took a chance to come here and enjoy themselves. Let’s not spoil it with your argument that never ends.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “All right. Now you can say ‘I told you so.”’

  She raised one brow.

  “About people coming. I honestly didn’t think anyone would show.”

  She mimicked his shrug. “That’s because you don’t have faith. I do.”

  “Too often faith isn’t justified. Look at Reid. Look at that black wall in the park. Look at the bags of trash you picked up there this morning and imagine the bags you’ll pick up tomorrow morning. Look at all the people you invited to this, all the dozens who didn’t come.”

  “But look at the ones who did come,” she pointed out before taking exception to an earlier comment. “As for Reid, he hasn’t let us down. He said he would think about it, and that’s what he’s doing. Eventually he’ll come to the right decision, and we’ll have our mural.”

  “And in the meantime he’s staying out all night with the Morgans. He’s drinking too much and spending too much time with Tanya Stanford.”

  “Some people won’t change willingly. They wait until their conscience drags them, kicking and screaming. Maybe Reid’s rebelling against change. Maybe he’s trying to convince himself that he is as worthless as people say. When he accepts that he’s not, he’ll come around.” She transferred a couple of burgers to a platter, then offered him a smile. “Grab a plate. Have some dinner. Mingle.”

  The look he gave her was dry and just the slightest bit mocking. “I don’t ‘mingle’, sweetheart. But I will take you up on the food. It smells good.”

  She was counting on that, hoping that the aroma would entice a few neighbors into joining them. If the people in the apartment house next door smelled the food and saw that her guests were eating, talking and having a good time without any problems from outside, maybe they would come over, and maybe they would bring their neighbors here with them. The bigger the crowd, the safer they were. Bullies like Ryan Morgan liked the odds in their favor. They liked to boast and threaten, but they wouldn’t try to carry out those threats when they were outnumbered.

  At least she hoped so.

  Over the next half hour, they did get a few more guests—a mother dragged along unwillingly by her two eager sons and the elderly woman who lived next door to them. The final tally, including Cassie and Karen, came to twenty. Karen had bought enough food to feed fifty or more, but she was happy with twenty. Heavens, she was downright ecstatic.

  The only tense moment of the evening came from the street, predictably from Ryan. He directed his brother to stop the beat-up car right outside the fence, and they all climbed out. It was the first good look Karen had gotten at Trevor Morgan. He wasn’t as handsome as his brother or as tall. Five eight, maybe five nine, wearing dark glasses and mimicking Ryan’s macho posturing, he looked like exactly what he was: a kid brother, with the emphasis on the kid part. He was maybe eighteen, and, according to Jamey, he liked to use knives.

  Not much of a kid.

  Jamey approached the fence. Karen followed, stopping a safe distance back, and Cassie came to a stop beside her. “What do you want, Morgan?” Jamey asked.

  “You’re having a party, huh? And you didn’t invite us. My feelings are hurt.” Ryan laughed, then, in a heartbeat, turned deadly serious. “Alicia, it’s time to go.”

  Karen glanced at the young woman, sitting in the rocker Cassie had brought around for her, her head ducked, her hands folded tightly together over her belly. “Maybe she’s not ready to go,” she said, looking back at Ryan. “Maybe she would rather stay here.”

  Morgan fixed a malevolent stare on her. “Maybe I’ll make her ready. And maybe while I’m at it, I’ll make you damned sorry.”

  Though the muscles in her legs were unsteady, the ones in her stomach taut, she didn’t move. She didn’t take a few steps closer to the safety of Jamey. She wasn’t going to hide from this punk, and she certainly wasn’t going to hide behind Jamey. Instead, she stood her ground, her gaze unflinching.

  His anger inflamed by her refusal to shrink back, Morgan slammed the door and started around the back of the car. He was bluffing, she thought—she hoped. He wouldn’t come onto her property and try to take his pregnant girlfriend by force. He surely wouldn’t try to do anything to her, not with Jamey and everyone else here. But a quick glance behind her showed that everyone else was wishing they were anywhere else. They looked so withdrawn, so apprehensive and timid. Only Jamey, Cassie and Karen were even looking at the four young men. The others were staring docilely at the ground, praying to go unnoticed.

  Reid caught Morgan’s arm. “Let it go, Ryan,” he advised, his expression dark with wrath that Karen had little doubt was directed toward her. “Alicia’s coming. Don’t start trouble here.”

  “I haven’t started anything. The red-haired bitch did. But I’ll finish it.” He addressed his next words, along with a steely gaze, to Karen. “You’d better take O’Shea’s advice and get out of here. You won’t get many more chances to walk out alive.”

  Ignoring the shiver that raised goose bumps on her arms, Karen moved forward. “Is this how you got your reputation, Ryan? Intimidating weaker, smaller women? Do you pick on us because you’re afraid to face someone more your equal?”

  “Shut up, Karen,” Jamey ordered, his voice too low for anyone else to hear, his tone too taut with anger for her to ignore—but ignore it she did.

  “I plan to make these parties a regular thing,” she announced. “Everyone in the neighborhood is invited. There are a few rules, though: no booze, no drugs, no weapons, no trouble, no bullies.” Sarcasm crept into her voice. “Gee, I guess that leaves you out, doesn’t it?”

  Ryan tried to jerk away, but Reid held him tighter, forcibly restraining him until Alicia hurried out to the car and coaxed him back into the front seat. Karen turned back to find Cassie’s gaze fixed on the car. It was good that the young woman had seen this tonight, she thought regretfully. An in-person dose of Ryan Morgan was worth more than all the words in the world. If anything would scare the girl off, it was him.

  But she didn’t look scared. She seemed to be simply observing an interesting scene... and if Karen wasn’t mistaken, the part of the scene she found most interesting was Reid. Opposites attract, the saying claimed, and she couldn’t think of many people more completely opposite Cassie Wade than Reid. She was so elegant, so coolly composed, and he... She felt a moment’s guilt for the incompleted thought. So he wasn’t polished, well educated or respected. He had the potential to be a good, decent, honorable man. What more could a woman want?

  As the Impala drove away, she turned her attention to her remaining guests. They were rising from their chairs, preparing to leave. The party mood was broken, and all the cajoling and pleading in the world couldn’t restore it. Morgan’s little scene had reminded them of the danger that had temporarily moved from center stage in their lives. They wanted
to go home, lock themselves in and restore their false sense of security, and she could do nothing but let them.

  “Shawntae, will I see you at the park tomorrow?”

  J.T.’s mother sighed heavily without answering. With a little more regret, Karen laid her hand on her arm. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “No.” Shawntae shook her head as if confused by her own feelings. “I’ll be there. I never did like Ryan Morgan. He was a punk in school, and he’s still a punk. I would like to help someone put him in his place.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for coming tonight.”

  She said goodbye to every guest but Jamey. When there was no further excuse for avoiding him, she looked, but he had already returned to the bar. The doors were open, the lights on, and his customers were inside drinking. She was relieved to have escaped his anger, but none too thrilled at the prospect of facing it later, especially knowing that, to some extent, she deserved it Her behavior could have caused serious problems here tonight. But not saying anything, backing down and silently watching while he claimed his property and intimidated everyone else would have caused even more serious problems in the future. She didn’t regret anything she’d said.

  Alone with Cassie and a table full of food, she offered the young woman a tight smile and repeated her earlier words. “Welcome to Serenity Street.” Then, as an after-thought... “Are you sure you want to be here?”

  When the last of his customers wandered out a few minutes before midnight, Jamey closed the bar. He didn’t bother putting the chairs on the table to make Monday morning’s sweeping easier, didn’t give a thought to washing the glasses and returning them to their place behind the bar. He shut off the lights, locked up and went straight across the street to Karen’s. The mutt was asleep in front of the screen door, as if, while waiting to go inside, he’d gotten too tired to keep his eyes open. Karen was sitting motionless in the rocker, her feet drawn up on the seat, her hands clasped around her ankles.