A Second Helping

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A Second Helping Page 20

by Beverly Jenkins


  “Very good.”

  “And now that that’s resolved, you can concentrate on your date tonight with Malachi.”

  Bernadine went still. “This isn’t a date.”

  Lily crossed her arms. “What are you calling it?”

  “Not sure, but it’s not a date.”

  “You know you’re pitiful, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just so you know. Have a good time.”

  “Thanks.”

  Bernadine was having trouble deciding what to wear. Malachi had specifically said, casual. As she looked through her vast walk-in closet she wondered if that meant no jewelry. Deciding he couldn’t possibly have meant that, she ran her fingers down the labels on the seventy-five neatly stacked shoe boxes in her search for the navy blue snakeskin boots she’d picked up in Barcelona last week. She paused. Had it really been only last week? She’d returned home on Sunday night, but after all that had transpired since then, she felt as if a month had passed. And now here she stood making herself crazy by trying to dress to please a man instead of herself. Reason number one hundred and twenty-five why she didn’t need a new man in her life.

  “What are you doing, Ms. Bernadine?”

  She looked out of the doorway to see Crystal standing there.

  “Trying to find something casual to wear.”

  “Why?”

  “Malachi has invited me to a picnic.” She made her decision and grabbed a hanger with a pair of black jeans folded meticulously over it, and another hanger holding a long-sleeved, navy twinset with little rhinestones on the neck and cuffs.

  “You’re going on a date with the O.G.? Sweet.”

  “It’s not a date.”

  “Who else is going? Trent and Lily?”

  “No. Just us.”

  “Hate to tell you, but that’s a date.”

  Bernadine moved past Crystal and laid the clothes on the bed.

  “And if the O.G. wants to get his freak on, make sure he uses protection.”

  “Crystal!” Bernadine turned, stunned.

  “I’m not playing. Nikki died of AIDS. You think she got it eating at Mickey D’s? I know about this stuff. You have any turpentine?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Old guys give you worms, so you’re supposed to drink a glass of turpentine afterward before you go to sleep.”

  Bernadine didn’t know whether to laugh or fall out in a faint. Surely teenagers didn’t believe that, but apparently they did because she was talking to one. “If you drink turpentine you won’t have to worry about worms, baby.”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “No, Crys. Turpentine will kill you.”

  “So will the worms. I always made the guy use protection and I stayed away from the geezers.”

  Bernadine cocked her head. “You’re sexually active?”

  “I used to be.”

  Bernadine responded with a whisper. “You’re only fifteen.”

  “I was twelve the first time. Didn’t like it.”

  Bernadine was speechless, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Crystal had been trying to make it on her own since she was seven years old. Being raised in foster care had probably taken away most of her physical innocence a long time ago.

  Crys asked, “Is this something maybe you and I should talk about?”

  “I think so, yeah. Just so you’ll have the right information.”

  “How about after your date?”

  Bernadine nodded. “But it’s not a date.”

  “Whatever you say, Ms. Bernadine. I’ll get out of here so you can get ready.”

  “Crys?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I’m not mad at you or anything because of what you just told me.”

  “I know. You’re not like that.”

  She exited and closed the door quietly behind her.

  Bernadine stood in the silence and stared at the door for a very long time. Finally shaking herself free, she dressed.

  Crystal walked outside and sat on the porch. One of the things she liked about Ms. Bernadine was that she could talk to her about just about anything, or at least so far. She looked across the street and saw Eli and his father checking on the progress of their new house. Although she’d only been around the new teacher one time, he seemed okay, but Eli was a mess. Yesterday when they were drying the pots at the Dog, she thought Preston was going to take a pot upside his head. And the way Eli acted with Rocky? Not only was he a mess, he was a disrespectful mess. She watched Colonel Payne step outside and walk over to where Eli and his dad were standing. She hoped he didn’t talk smack to the colonel because that wouldn’t be a good idea.

  She saw Eli look over at her on the porch. He said something to his dad, and to Crystal’s displeasure started across the street. Now what?

  When he reached the foot of her steps, she asked, “What do you want?”

  “To talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  He looked off into nothingness in a way that reminded her of Preston. Not again.

  He asked her finally, “Are you mad about your mom dying?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t act like it.”

  “Is that what’s wrong with you? You’re mad because you lost your mom?”

  “I guess. Yeah. So why aren’t you acting mad?”

  “I don’t know. It hurts a lot, but it doesn’t make me mad at everybody. It’s nobody’s fault that she died of AIDS.”

  “AIDS?”

  “That’s what I said, and being mad? So what. It’s not going to make her be alive again. I deal with it best I can. Talking to Ms. Bernadine helped a lot though.”

  “That’s what you said yesterday.”

  “It’s the truth. Maybe you should talk to your dad.”

  “I told you, we’re not close.”

  “Preston and the colonel are trying to learn how to be father and son. Maybe you and your dad can too.”

  “I don’t know.” He paused and didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then looked up at her on the porch. “Tamar said she believes that when people die, they still look out for us.”

  “You talked to Tamar?” she asked with surprise. “When?”

  “This morning.”

  “Bet you didn’t talk to her the way you’ve been talking to everybody else since you got here.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Tamar’s tough, but when she’s not working you to death, or all up in your grill because you screwed up, she can be okay.”

  “Found that out. Do you think she’s right about being looked after?”

  She shrugged. “No idea, but she knows a lot of stuff. All I know is that acting like a jerk makes people think you’re a jerk, so you might want to change channels. Folks don’t play that around here.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” He then asked, “Do you really like it here?”

  “Beats being on the street, and I got a family here. Never had a real one before, so it’s pretty sweet being the big sister. Amari and Preston can be real annoying sometimes, but I know that if push comes to shove, they’ve got my back, just like I got theirs. As long as it’s not every day.”

  He smiled at that. “Thanks, Crystal. Thanks for listening.”

  “You’re welcome, but like I told Preston, ‘Don’t make it a habit.’ People keep coming to me for advice, I’m going to have to start charging.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Eli?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Welcome to the family.”

  He searched her face for a moment, then said, “Thanks.”

  “Now, go home and talk to your dad.”

  “Yes, Crystal.”

  As he left and crossed the street, she had to admit that he was kind of cute, for a White boy.

  CHAPTER 16

  He’s here, Ms. Bernadine.”

  “Thanks, Crys. Tell him I’ll be right down.”

  Dressed in her black jeans, twinset, and ma
tching snakeskin boots, Bernadine look one last look at her gorgeous self in the mirror and was pleased. Makeup was tight, hair was laid, and the gold around her neck, just the right touch. Ready, at least physically, she grabbed her black leather jacket and her tote and headed down to meet him.

  He was seated on the sofa in the living room but rose to his feet at her approach. “You look good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She noted that he did too, in his light blue denim shirt, string tie, clean jeans, and polished cowboy boots. She glanced over to see Crys watching them with a knowing grin, and prayed she wasn’t about to be subjected to another round of teenager dating advice.

  However, all Crystal had to say was “Have a good time, you two.”

  “We will,” he replied with his eyes riveted on Bernadine’s.

  His gaze was so intense she took in a deep breath to try and slow down her pounding heart.

  He smiled and offered her his arm.

  Wondering what in the world she’d been thinking to have agreed to this, she swallowed, took his arm, and let him escort her to the door.

  Outside, he handed her into the passenger side of the freshly washed, old Ford truck, and as he closed her door and moved around to get in on the driver’s side, Bernadine couldn’t remember ever being so nervous. Crystal was on the porch watching. Roni was on her porch watching; Lily too. She wanted to yell at them to get back inside, but knew that would only make people think she’d lost her mind, so instead, she did her best to ignore them and their smiles and fought to draw in more calming breaths.

  Once he was settled, he looked over at her from his seat behind the wheel and asked, “Ready?”

  She nodded.

  “We’re going to a picnic, not a hanging.”

  “Would you just drive please?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He started the engine and after waving to the onlookers headed the truck away from the subdivision.

  Saxophonist Grover Washington was on the CD player. The familiar strains of “Winelight” gave her something to hold on to instead of obsessing over the unknown. She was a wreck inside, a total and complete wreck, mainly because—a date at her age! And with Malachi July, aka the Playboy of the Western Plains, of all people. The only man she’d ever been with in her whole life was Leo.

  “Comfortable? I can turn up the heat if you’re cold.”

  “No, I’m fine thanks.”

  “Music okay?”

  She nodded.

  When he didn’t look away, she asked, “What?”

  “Just checking you out. Wondering why you look so nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m not.” When he didn’t respond, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Thought maybe the creek on the edge of Tamar’s land. There’s a picnic table that’s out there year round. And I have the food in the bed.”

  “Good.”

  She remained silent for the rest of the ride but couldn’t help taking peeks at him as he drove. There was no denying that he was a good-looking man. The hands on the steering wheel were strong and sure and for someone sixty years old he was in great shape, so why was she so hesitant about accepting his company? Much of it had to do with being gun-shy after her divorce and knowing that Malachi had in the past preferred his women young and thin. She, of course, was neither.

  When they arrived at the creek, it was nearly quarter of eight and the sun was dying fast. Dusk-fed shadows were creeping over the open land, and she wondered again at the sense of this. In a few minutes it was going to be too dark to eat outside.

  “Guess I should have planned this for later in the summer,” he said as if reading her mind. “Getting pretty dark.”

  When he looked her way, she replied amusedly, “You think?”

  He grinned. “We’ll just sit in the truck. Let me get the food.”

  A few moments later he was back, picnic basket in hand. Trying to open the lid and remove the food and plates within the small confines of the front seat was comical. His elbow kept accidentally hitting the horn, and the initial blast scared the heck out of them. More maneuvering resulted in more blasts, reducing them both to fits of laughter.

  He noted, “We keep this up and Tamar’s going to drive down here wanting to know what’s going on.”

  A chuckling Bernadine took the small plate he handed her. It was filled with Sizzle’s now-famous spinach tarts and some tasty little meatballs. On the side were sliced apples accompanied by a great tasting ranch-flavored dip, a bowtie pasta salad, and some still warm cheese biscuits.

  “This looks fabulous.”

  “Much better than the bologna sandwiches and potato salad I’d suggested.”

  Her plate balanced on her hand, she laughed. “I had more than my share of bologna growing up.”

  “Me too, but I still love it.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure. Nothing better than a late-night fried bologna sandwich.”

  “Haven’t had one of those in years.”

  “Come by one night and I’ll make you one.”

  The thought intrigued parts of herself as she wondered how spending a late night with him might be, but other parts were just plain scared to death. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The food was wonderful. “If you ever decide to get rid of Siz, he can come work for me.”

  “He’s good, isn’t he?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Their gazes met. In the silence that rose and filled the truck, she took a bold leap and asked, “What are we doing here, Malachi?”

  “Talking about bologna sandwiches.”

  “Be serious. You know what I mean.”

  He shrugged. “Hoping maybe we can come to closure on a few things.”

  “Such as?”

  “My wanting to spend more time with you.”

  She had no idea why his confession left her so heady; he’d made it clear from the first time they met that he was interested, but to hear it put in plain words…

  “Cat got your tongue?” he asked quietly.

  “A little bit.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  He’d always had the ability to make her smile from the first time they met too. “I’m so used to doing things my way, I’m not sure I can handle a man telling me how to run my life.”

  “Who said anything about running your life? No way in the world I want that job. Too hard, too involved, and way too much work. I just want to be the person you kick back with; hang with. The one you can call day or night when you need to talk. The brother who takes you on picnics in an old pickup truck and lets you be Bernadine Brown, the woman, as opposed to Bernadine Brown, She’s Got the Whole World in Her Hands.”

  That made her laugh.

  “Besides, I got my own life to work on, and that’s more than enough for this former drunk to handle.”

  She’d learned about his battle with alcohol last summer. At the time his candor had surprised her. Now he’d surprised her again with his take on how he wanted to fit into her life, and she found the approach both novel and tempting. “So if I say yes, then what?”

  “We have a good time. I’ll be yours exclusively and you’ll be mine.

  “Sounds simple enough.”

  “No sense in making it complicated.”

  She agreed. The last thing she needed was “complicated.” Presently, her life had more tangents than a geometry class. What she needed was quiet and drama-free.

  “So?” he asked quietly.

  “A girl would have to be crazy to turn down an offer like that.”

  Humor curved his mustached lips. “And we know you aren’t that.”

  “Not most of the time anyway.” She looked over at the man who’d been wooing her in spite of her protestations since the day they were first introduced to each other by Tamar, and knew what she wanted to say. “My answer is yes.”

  “All righty, now,” he said, sounding pleased. “Houston, we have ign
ition.”

  Their smiles met and Bernadine sensed the rightness of her decision melt away all the stress she’d been carrying since he’d invited her to this decidedly unique get-together.

  “Then I propose we seal our bargain with a slice of Rocky’s famous apple pie.”

  “And I second that.”

  As they ate, she asked a question she’d been wanting an answer to for some time. “What made you decide to be a veterinarian?”

  “Found a young hawk with a broken wing. Didn’t know a thing about caring for it, but I took it home and did my best.”

  “How old were you?”

  “About Amari’s age.”

  “So what happened?”

  “It died, of course.”

  “I thought you were going to tell me that you healed it and it flew away.”

  “No, that’s television. This was real life, but it made me want to learn how to doctor a bird if I ran across one again. I went to vet school, minored in raptors, but there’s not much call for that out here if you’re trying to make a living, so I ended up treating farm stock instead.”

  “Raptors are?”

  “Birds of prey. Hawks. Falcons. When I was fourteen, I tried to talk Tamar into buying me one for Christmas, but you can pretty much imagine how that went.”

  She could. “Were you eventually able to get one on your own?”

  “No. Between finishing school, being sent to Nam, and coming back married to Satan Alcohol…” His voice trailed off as if no further explanation was needed. He added, “Besides, training a bird like that is a full-time job.”

  “How much do they cost?”

  He looked over to her face in the darkness. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Just curious.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, turning his attention back to the last of his pie. “I know you, Bernadine. Do not buy me a raptor.”

  “Who said anything about that?” she asked innocently.

  “You didn’t have to. Promise me, now.”

  “Can’t do that. Suppose they’re on sale the next time I’m in Neiman Marcus?”

  He laughed. “Crazy woman.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “No raptors.”

 

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