by Clay, Ann
“You don’t fool me, boy. I’ve been your mother all your life, and I know what you’re trying to do.” Diane stuck a finger up at him.
“Mom, I still have to pick up my tux for next week. Can we talk about this later?” He folded the finger and her hand in his, brought it to his lips and pressed a brief kiss to it.
* * * *
Autumn stood at the rear door and looked out at the garden draped by huge fig and pecan trees. Rows and rows of fresh vegetables hung on the vines, ready to be picked, in all shades and colors in the far right corner of the yard. She fought to control the nervous energy coursing through her veins. Her grandmother had hit a chord she couldn’t quite keep in tune with. She did all she could to guard her thoughts and somehow, Mer Drace got past it all.
Mer Drace moved around the spacious kitchen. Pans and tops rattled. She stepped up on a little stool and pulled down a dish from the very top shelf of a cabinet. The bowl was Autumn’s favorite since she was a child. To make sure no one else used it, she stuck it on a shelf and only pulled it down when Autumn was home. Just as she stepped down off the stool, Tempest entered the kitchen.
“Hi Maw maw,” he kissed her cheek. “Something smells great.”
“I have your favorite too. You go wash up and it’ll be ready when you’re done.”
“Yes ma’am.” He moved behind Autumn and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s good to have you home, darling.” He kissed her head and left to wash up.
Autumn welcomed the love her brother showed her. He’d always been that way. As children, he’d been her protector. Even when he was too little to fight off the big guys who thought they could pull Autumn’s hair or touch her from behind. She closed her eyes to remember the time when their father showed up just as two guys were about to beat Tempest to a pulp.
Gator, Autumn’s dad, was as tall as an oak tree, as strong as ox, and as ferocious as an alligator, hence the nickname that stuck with him. Just the sight of him made grown men run. Now Tempest was as tall and as wide as their father. He worked on one of the rigs and when he was inshore, he ran the ferry to and from the island, mostly for tours. While Tempest was offshore, their uncle took care of the ferry, which ran five to six times a day.
“Come, child, Eat.” Her grandmother broke into her thoughts. Mer Drace didn’t say anything about the comment she’d made earlier. Tempest caught her up on the latest gossip. Some of it she’d already heard from Mona and Erica. They ate, talked, laughed, and then ate some more.
Autumn and Tempest ate until they couldn’t stand another bite. “Oh my God, I’m stuffed.” Autumn leaned back into her chair.
“Well, I have to get back to the mainland. I’ll drop by home first. When should I tell momma you’re coming home?” he asked Autumn. Their mother, Maree, lived not very far from Mer Drace.
Autumn paused a minute. “I’ll come by sometime tomorrow. I want to spend a little time with Mer Drace.” She stood and began to clear the table. Mer Drace didn’t have a phone in her house. She always said if anyone needed to talk to her, they needed to do it in person. Maree lost the battle time and time again, when she argued with her mother that having a phone would help in case she had an emergency. Nothing persuaded the old woman that a phone was necessary.
Mer Drace looked up at Autumn before turning toward Tempest. “Tell that girl of mine that I still don’t have my dress she was supposed to finish. I want to look nice for mass on Friday. All the attention is going to be on me and my beautiful granddaughter.” She smiled and patted Tempest on the cheek.
“Yes, Maw maw. Love you.” He kissed her and left the same way he’d come in.
Autumn thought once more that she’d gotten a reprieve from Mer Drace’s early conversation. No sooner had Tempest closed the door behind him did the old lady move next to her. She placed her hand on Autumn’s arm, halting her from her dish-washing task. “Leave those be for now. You have much to tell me, little one.”
* * * *
Travis cursed under his breath and shifted from one side to the other as the tailor refitted his tux jacket.
“I apologize, Mr. Brooks.” The man fumbled with the pins, trying not to stick Travis. “We’ll make sure to get this right, and we will personally deliver the jacket to your residence or your office by the end of the week.”
Travis sighed heavily. Frustrated by the news he’d gotten from Reggie the night before seemingly set the tone for his entire day, and had not improved. Standing in front of a mirror being poked with pins was evidence of that fact.
The news from Clem’s lawyer earlier didn’t make matters any better. At the reading of the will, Clem’s instructions had both him and the lawyers perplexed, which added girth to his sour mood. His mother, on the other hand, thought the prevision in Clem’s will was pure genius.
But Travis wasn’t the least bit impressed by what she considered a stroke of genius. For him, it seemed Clem had played a dirty trick on him. Just thinking about it made Travis’s blood boil. The poor tailor attempting to strategically pin his jacket, caught the brunt of his anger as Travis continued to curse at him.
Deep frowns continued as he contemplated what Clem had been thinking when it came to his final request from him. No one else had previsions, not even his sorry-ass children. He wondered if his mom had something to do with it. From the look on her face, she was just as surprised. Only her surprise was accompanied by sheer delight.
Apparently, assets assigned to Travis were contingent on several things. First, a large portion of Travis’s inheritance was to go into a fund for his future family. “What?” Travis nearly cracked the lawyer’s desk in half when he pounded it. He stood up so fast the chair he’d occupied bolted over backwards.
Secondly, he would get all of Clem’s saxophones, music rights, and royalties on the condition that he signed a letter of intent to keep those things in the family, and to pass them down to his children. “Who says I’m having children?” He blasted. “I’m not even interested in marriage.”
“Calm down, Travis.” His mother attempted to keep the snicker out of her tone. “Surely Uncle Clem meant well. Even if it’s not now, you still have time to make all those decisions.”
“The hell I do! I don’t need Clem’s money anyway. And I would love to have his instruments if nothing else, but I don’t have to have those either. You can donate them to a museum for all I care.” He stormed out of the office.
He’d driven around for almost an hour before he’d calmed down enough to show up for his tux, which he knew he had to take care of today. He couldn’t let his baby brother down, even though at the moment, he felt Clem thought little of him. Travis could make his own decisions for his life. It really wasn’t about the money or the things. Clem hadn’t trusted him to do what was right. So needless to say when he finally arrived at the tux shop and found his jacket didn’t fit, he dared to think his day couldn’t get any worse.
His phone rang. He picked it up, looked down at the display, and then dropped it back in the holster. He would pay the consequences for not answering his mother’s call later. At that moment, he needed a cold beer and food for his stomach. So he pulled into a pub he patronized, got out of his car, and sat down at the bar.
“What’ll it be, Brooks?” Jeff called over his shoulder.
“Stack’em high, Jeffery, my man.”
“That great of a day, huh?”
“Yep. Keep’em coming.”
* * * *
Autumn couldn’t look her grandmother in the eye when she told her she wasn’t the least bit interested in Travis. She almost lied when Mer Drace asked her about the man she’d seen her with weeks before. “I have only met him a week ago, Mer Drace.”
“That may be true, but he’s been with you longer than you think. What is this young man’s name?” she asked.
Autumn hesitated. Perhaps her grandmother meant someone else. She tried to recall who she’d met just before she’d arrived in New Orleans. This dream could have been of someone else. Bu
t she couldn’t recall meeting anyone else in the last two months while she’d been on the road. She kept to herself in the last two performing cities. She went from the bus to the hotel room and from the hotel room to theater; ate her meals alone in her room, and didn’t even congregate with her cast-mates after the shows. Then she thought maybe it was Romeo, from the jazz club, but then thought better of it.
“You might as well tell me,” Mer Drace egged her on.
She looked at the woman who was as beautiful as she’d been when she was in her twenties. Her hair had only a few strains of gray, which were in a small patch at her right temple.
“Travis,” She said just above a whisper. “Travis Brooks.”
Mer Drace stopped as she studied her granddaughter face. “This young man is a Brooks?”
CHAPTER 9
Autumn met her grandmother’s gaze and shook her head. Blue eyes stared at blue eyes hidden behind hazel contact lens. The two stayed that way for several seconds before Mer Drace looked away. They sat that way for several more minutes, just holding each other’s hand while deep in thought. Finally, Mer Drace spoke. “I see good things in this man. He reminds me so much of your grandfather.” She squeezed Autumn’s hands lightly. “Unlike Demarcus, this man knows his place and he will cherish you no matter what you say or do to him.”
Autumn moved her lips to speak, but Mer Drace shook her head to say no. She paused before she spoke again. “Tell him who you are and he’ll understand.”
“But Mer Drace…” Autumn tried to tell her grandmother that her dream had to be wrong. The man in her dream had to be someone else. And that she had no intentions of becoming involved with Travis or anyone else. But her grandmother stood up, and walked away before she could finish.
Left to deal with her own thoughts and feelings about what her grandmother said to her, Autumn sat for almost an hour before she stood up and walked down the narrow path that led to the coastal walkway she took so many years ago. She strolled along the rocky shoreline; the sun drew down ready to descend across the breathtaking gulf waters. The clouds formed into different shapes and sizes, and transformed an array of red, yellow, and orange contours in the sky.
Autumn inhaled deeply the musky gulf air. After about a mile and a half, she found herself in the familiar place from her childhood. She and Tempest scoured the beach along this trail for shells in various shapes, sizes, and color, to put in mayonnaise jars that they sold to tourists as they passed on the roadside.
She carefully climbed three large rocks and then two smaller ones, until she reached the top of the cliff, a place she called the Eyes’ View because from there, she could see shrimp boats with wide-winged nets slowly float by. Dolphins in the backdrop rode the waves; up and down they went, silently disappearing into the water. The sun no matter the time of day; either rising or setting; the moon as it glistened and illuminated the entire island, were all spectacular views from that very spot.
The hilly foliage dotted with wildflowers and shells. The cooing of sea gulls in harmony with the age-old melody of the water crashing against the shore brought serenity that wasn’t duplicated anywhere else in the world. Autumn stepped between sandy patches before she plopped down on the edge of a rock that was the perfect seat to absorb the picturesque view. She often went there to clear her head or to think through her decisions. Today, she came to think through the nearly one-sided conversation she had with Mer Drace.
She lingered in the same spot until the sun finally settled beneath the gray blanket of water. The evening drew cooler, breezy air. Autumn folded her arms around her waist and eased her way down the hill. She still hadn’t decided on what to do about Travis, and only had three more days at home before returning to the city to figure out what she wanted to do.
She took the lit bike path back, and headed straight for her mother’s house. Waves off the coast continued to rustle with the sandy beach as she passed several fish-cleaning stations where men cleaned the day’s catch with the help of overhead lanterns. As she moved closer to Maree’s house, she could smell the heavily seasoned boiling crabs at various campsites along the roadside. Some occupants could be seen inside their screened porches with spread newspaper for tablecloths, wreaking havoc on the tasty critters.
Autumn walked through the gate to her childhood home, looked up and saw the tree house that Gator had built for her and Tempest when Autumn was six. It was a great place to hide when she’d gotten into trouble, which was a lot. A dim light beamed through the lacy sheers, a light she knew without doubt watched over her father while sound asleep with the TV remote in his hand.
She walked through the door and was instantly taken back to the evenings she’d come home from school to the wonderful smell of the evening meal. Maree cooked every day, mostly because there were seldom any leftovers after dinner. Gator and Tempest ate enough for four people. Autumn turned left, stepped down into the den, and as she’d suspected, found her dad slumped over in his brown leather chair. She walked over and kissed his forehead. He stirred but continued the loud snore that competed with the blasting television program.
“Mom.” She walked into the kitchen.
Maree with hands deep in water stood at the kitchen sink, turned to face her daughter with a smile as wide as the gulf shores. “Hi Sweetie. I’d hope you come by to see me tonight.” She dried her hands on the dishtowel and opened her arms to receive her beautiful baby girl.
“Mom, I missed you.”
* * * *
By Friday, Autumn had decided what to do about Travis. She and Mer Drace spent the past two days laughing and talking. And the more her grandmother talked, the more Autumn was convinced to put her fears aside. She pulled Mer Drace’s vintage car from the driveway and put it in park. “Mer Drace, let’s go!” She yelled into the door.
“Hold your horses, little one. I got to look my best, you know.” Mer Drace appeared through the front-screened porch in the dress that Maree had sent over two days before. She slowly, but proudly climbed down the three steps that led to the driveway and got into the opened passenger side door.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
They pulled up to Our Lady of the Isle where one of the parishioners opened the passenger door and helped Mer Drace from the car. Autumn entered the heavily ornamented door, stuck two fingers into the bowl of holy water, made the sign of the cross, and then knelt down to genuflect before taking her seat next to Mer Drace. She glanced up at the ceiling and the balcony where Brother Pierre played the huge wind pipe organ.
The thoughts of her youth came flashing back as fresh as if it was only days before. Sister Tess’s tutorial on the ritual of mass was something she would never forget. “The light tells you Jesus is in the tabernacle.” She’d pointed to the floor lamp with a red shade next to the altar. “It’s called a sanctuary lamp,” Sister Tess had explained. “And you must be on your best behavior.” The nuns were strict disciplinarians who demanded the children behave in class and in the chapel. Their desk at school sat on a sixteen-inch-high riser.
Autumn remembered the days she’d slipped into the chapel between classes to see if Jesus was on duty. Mer Drace had told her that he was always on duty and to a five-year-old she couldn’t understand how if Jesus was on duty, why at times he let her grandmother be so sad or why God had to take her Uncle Damon’s wife and her cousins Caroline and Philip Markus. For a very long time, she’d thought God didn’t love them because they were so different from everyone else. Years passed before she’d understood the vastness of what God meant, especially for her grandmother.
Mer Drace placed her hand on top of Autumn’s bringing from her deep reverie. Autumn looked at her before giving her attention to the aged priest at the altar.
* * * *
Travis spotted Rykard’s car in his driveway. Trae still had no idea that his best friend was in town. Nor did he suspect that they’d planned a surprised bachelor party for him at a rented raised center-hall cottage in the Garden District. For all Trae knew,
he was accompanying Travis and Michael to a house party. Trae had already gotten his kitchen pass from Reggie to hang out with his brothers.
“Dang, man. What’s going to happen once you place that ring on her finger? You’re going to need permission to go the bathroom,” Travis had ragged him.
“Very funny, big head,” he’d retorted.
Travis took in stride all the things that occurred over the past couple of weeks. Planned—and some unplanned—events had brought their families together. They were down to one week from the long-awaited celebration for his youngest brother’s wedding. He still hadn’t heard from Autumn, and took her silence to mean they would only have to put up with one another long enough to get through the wedding. He accepted that fate and began to focus on what Trae wanted from him.
“Hey, Ry,” he called out once he pulled his key from the lock and closed the door.
Rykard sauntered down the stairs. “Hey, man. Long time no see.” He moved forward, grabbed Travis’s hand and pulled him into a strong embrace.
“What’s up, my brother?” They exchanged their fraternity handshake. “Trae is going to be beside himself tonight, man.”
“I sure hope so. This has been a long time coming. Wow, it’s hard to believe. I remember the evening Reggie stole up to our room looking for this boy. We were on curfew, but she had it in her mind that she wanted to see him.” Rykard shook his head as he recalled that night. Trae risked taking her back to her dorm because he didn’t want her out so late at night by herself. “They deserve this happiness.”
“Well, I agree. They’ve come a long way and I think they’re going to make it, as crazy as that sounds coming from me.” Travis smiled. “In a week, my little brother will be a married man. Go figure!”
“Go figure.”
“So, when are you going to tie it down and let some woman drive you into insanity?”
“Right after you do, my brother.” Rykard laughed.