by Rebeca Seitz
“What’s not a big deal?” Darin’s voice had gone from playful to suspicious.
“Don’t you think maybe he should make that decision?” Tandy ignored Darin’s question.
“What decision?” Darin asked.
“I told you, he already did.”
“Great, if I made it, then somebody tell me what it is,” Darin said. “I promise I’ll stand by the decision, unless I made it after severe bodily abuse, in which case I reserve the right to change my mind.”
Tandy twisted in her seat to face him as best she could. “Kendra’s black, Darin.”
Darin’s blank look made her clarify.
“Black, as in African-American.”
Darin looked at her as if he was trying to figure out a riddle. “Yeah, now tell me the part about the third eye.”
“She doesn’t have a third eye. As a matter of fact, she has great eyes. But she’s black.”
“Why are you saying that like it matters?”
“It doesn’t?”
“Not to me.”
“You already knew she was black.” His lack of reaction was enough to tell her she was speaking the truth.
He shrugged. “I guessed as much after I talked to her. Then, when I saw the family picture on the mantel at your house, I asked your dad to tell me which one was Kendra.”
“So this isn’t an issue?”
“Did Clay tell you about my first marriage?”
“Yes. He thought it wasn’t an issue.”
“Smart man. It isn’t.”
She settled back into her seat, the knot of nervous tension that had coiled in her stomach began to relax. “Okay. Good.”
“So there really is no third eye?”
“Darin!”
“Okay, okay. Just making sure.”
“We’re here.” Clay turned into the driveway of a rambling white Victorian home.
“Want me to go up and get her?” Tandy asked.
“Not a chance.” Darin opened his door. “You kids talk among yourselves while I go retrieve the lady.” He got out, and they watched him bound up the steps to the porch. Kendra must have told him how the house was laid out into apartments, one tenant to each floor, because he didn’t bother with the doorbell. Just opened the weathered white door and went on in.
“Darin seems nice,” Tandy said.
“He’s a good guy.”
“How’d you two meet?”
“We were in the service together. Joined up on the same day. Got out on the same day.”
“Oh.” Crickets chirped in the night as she wondered whether to ask him about his days as a soldier. Did he want to talk about it?
“You know, it wasn’t what I expected it to be.” He reached across and took her hand again. “Being in the service.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No.” His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. “I had seen all these movies and TV shows that made it seem so heroic to fight for our country, defend our freedoms, all that stuff.”
“It is heroic, Clay.”
He nodded. “It is, you’re right. But when you’re doing it, it doesn’t feel all that heroic. It just feels like another day on the job. You get to doing your duty—delivering gas or parts or patrolling streets or whatever—and you forget that you’re in the middle of a hostile environment. You get used to the feel of a gun in your hands, helmet on your head, vest strapped around your chest. It becomes comfortable. Until some guy tries to shoot you in the head, not because you’ve done anything or even know who he is but because of what you stand for, what flag is stitched to your uniform.”
“You were shot at?”
“Yeah, we all were. Pretty much anybody who did time in Iraq has been shot at. It’s just part of the job. Some of the citizens are so grateful to have us there, they come running out of their homes to bring us food and gifts. Others throw rocks, or worse.”
The way he said it, like serving in a war was as ordinary as changing socks or doing the laundry, broke her heart.
“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was sorry about, only that it was important to say the words.
He looked at her. She couldn’t make out his features in the darkness of the car, but the heat in her chest told her he was looking at her. His hand tightened on hers, their sure way of telling the other the depth of their feelings.
“I hate what that man said to you in Orlando,” he said, and she struggled to switch focus. “But if it’s what made you come back here, then I’m glad he said it.”
She thought about his words, decided she agreed with him. “Me, too.” She glanced up at the house and saw Kendra and Darin coming out the front door. “Looks like they hit it off.”
Kendra’s laughter rang out across the lawn, and her hand was tucked into the crook of Darin’s arm. She wore the red halter dress, but in true Kendra fashion had thrown a red-and-purple striped scarf around her neck. The ends of it trailed down her back, along with her mahogany-colored hair. Her slender brown ankles were laced with crimson-red ribbons that held a spiky red heel to her foot.
“He better not be a jerk.”
Clay cleared his throat. “Judging by the looks of you two tonight, I’d say it’s far more likely we men will be going home with broken hearts before the night is over.”
Tandy laughed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Doubtful,” she said.
Darin walked Kendra around the car and opened her door. She allowed herself to be helped into the seat and settled back into its leather softness as Darin shut the door.
“Clay, I don’t care what they say about you, you’re a wonderful man,” she said.
“Glad to know you approve,” Clay shot back.
Darin slid into his side of the car, and Clay backed down the driveway. Tandy sucked in a deep breath, determined to remember every detail of this night and ignore the reality that made that necessary.
They headed down Lindell and out of town to Highway 64, the Dodge’s motor throbbing beneath the hood.
“Tell me about this place we’re going.” Tandy turned her head to see his profile. “It must be new since neither Kendra nor I have heard of it.”
“It’s about a year old,” Clay said. “The owner had a jazz bar in Atlanta, but he got sick of fighting the traffic every day, so he moved out here to the country and opened a supper club instead.”
“You can take the man out of the city,” Darin said, “but the love of jazz lives on.”
“That’s Joe’s motto,” Clay explained. “He’s a cool cat. Plays sax and piano and tells some stories you wouldn’t believe, but they’re true. He worked with some of the legends back in the day.”
“Like who?” Kendra leaned forward.
“B.B. King, Otis Redding, John Coltrane, Etta James …”
“Get out!” Kendra slapped the seat in front of her. “He played with Etta James? You lie.”
“Nope,” Darin said. “He tells the truth. We’ll get Joe to tell you some of his stories. Maybe even see his office. That’s where he keeps all his pictures from the old days.”
“Get me in that office and we might be looking at a long-term thing, here.”
“Don’t believe her,” Clay warned. “Kendra doesn’t do anything long-term.”
“You watch it, mister,” she retorted. “I’m a woman, so I can change my mind or my ways at any time.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clay’s mock salute made Tandy giggle.
“Hey, Clay?”
“Yeah, man?”
“Remind me to find a way to get Kendra in Joe’s office.”
“Roger that.”
Clay reached over and turned on the radio, pushing preset buttons until they landed on the easy listening station. He took Tandy’s hand in his again.
They bantered the whole way and, about twenty minutes later, turned off the highway into a blacktop parking lot. A squat brick building was lit up by spotlights hanging from its roof by black iron and angled down to illuminate a white
sign that read Joe’s in flowing black script. Underneath that, in smaller letters, Tandy read, Jazz lovers welcome. Live music Friday and Saturday nights. ”
Cars were lined up in rows, and Tandy wondered if they’d be able to get a table.
Clay pulled the car into a parking space and killed the engine. Tandy reached for her door handle, but Clay’s voice halted her.
“Stop right there.”
“You, too,” Darin said from the back.
“What is it with women these days, Darin?” Clay said as they exited their side of the car. “Can’t give us men two seconds to get around the car and open a door.” He shut his door, and Tandy turned to face Kendra.
“Hey, thanks for doing this, sis.”
Kendra harrumphed. “It was a favor before, but consider your debt paid. Have you looked at that man?” She jerked her finger to the back of the car where the men were coming around to open their doors. “He is f-i-n-e fine.”
Tandy chuckled and turned back around. “Good to know I’m all paid up.”
A rush of cool air swept across Tandy’s face when Clay opened her door. He held out his hand and she took it, letting him help her out of the seat.
The two couples walked to the door, and Clay reached out to open it. He wiggled his eyebrows at Tandy and said, “After you, madam.”
“You just want to check out my dress again.”
“You better believe it.” He swept his hand forward, and she walked on through. She turned around to get his reaction and cracked up when she saw his arm across Darin, holding back his and Kendra’s entrance to get a better view of Tandy.
“You are a nutcase,” she announced as they joined her in the club.
“It’d be lunacy to not take every opportunity I can to enjoy the sight of you in that dress.”
Tandy rolled her eyes at him and looked around the room. Circular tables were arranged in the center of the room, votive candles burning atop their linen-covered tops. Plush upholstered chairs with black script J’s embroidered in the center were situated around each table. Intimate booths stood sentry on a platform around the room, their high-backed seats covered in a diamond-shaped gray pattern. The booth tables were also covered in white linen, a black script J embroidered in the middle of the overhang. Candelabras sat on the rail above each booth, white taper candles providing a moody ambience.
A haunting melody flowed from the black lacquer-finished grand piano at the front of the room. A microphone, in the style of the 1920s, stood by itself at center stage.
“That’s Joe on the piano,” Clay said in her ear. His warm breath made her shiver.
“Does he play all night?”
“No, just until eight or so. Then he’ll have some performer booked to play or sing.”
“Clay and Darin, good to see you boys.” This from a raven-haired beauty poised behind the hostess stand, as regal as a queen holding court. “And I see you’ve brought some friends this time.”
“Sophia, meet Tandy and Kendra Sinclair,” Clay said. “Girls, this is Sophia, Joe’s better half.”
“I don’t know about that, but I am his wife.” She came from around the stand and shook Tandy’s hand, then Kendra’s. “Are you ladies searching for some good jazz tonight?”
“We are,” Tandy affirmed. “Clay says this is the place to come.”
“He should know. He and Darin are here, what, Clay, about once a month?”
“Give or take. Who’s playing tonight?”
“Jenna will be on the piano the first hour. We’re not sure about the main act since Bo and Liv just called to cancel.”
“Nothing wrong, I hope?” Darin asked.
“Oh, no, they’re probably just living it up in New York an extra night. They played a gig there the past two weeks. You know jazz folks.”
They nodded.
“I’m sure we’ll work out something, though. We always do!” She went back around to the hostess stand and marked something on the paper in front of her. “Let’s find you four a booth, all right?”
“Thanks, Sophia,” Clay said.
“Don’t thank me yet. If I can’t talk Jenna into staying through the night or find someone else to come in for Bo and Liv, I’ll be hitting you and Slick here up for some talent.”
“Let’s hope things don’t get that desperate,” Darin said as they stopped at the booth facing center stage.
“We’ll see.” Sophia gestured to the booth. “Is this all right?”
“It’s perfect, thanks.” They settled into the booth, and Sophia went back to her station at the door.
“You guys come here once a month?” Kendra smirked. “Aren’t you in touch with your feminine side.”
“Hey, don’t knock a man’s love for the finer things in life,” Darin said.
Kendra placed a hand on her chest in mock seriousness. “I am so very sorry to have called into question your manliness, sir.”
Darin turned to Clay. “Is she mocking me? Because I think she’s mocking me.”
“She might be.”
“No might to it. The woman is mocking me.” He faced Kendra. “Do you know the penalty for mocking a man in a jazz club?”
“A night of watching WWE?”
Darin groaned. “Ugh, I wouldn’t subject my worst enemy to that. No, the punishment here is a bit less severe.”
“Depending on your point of view,” Clay cut in, and Darin cut his eyes at him.
“Okay, break it to me gently. What horrible act must I perform to atone for my sin?” Kendra batted her eyes.
“You must dance with me before even looking at the menu.”
“That is harsh.”
“I warned you it was a serious offense.”
Kendra sighed in melodramatic fashion. “And yet, I am a woman of principle, so I must accept my punishment with grace.”
Darin stood up and offered his hand to help her from the booth. She took it, and they joined a few other couples on the dance floor.
“He sure didn’t waste any time,” Tandy said.
“Guess she shouldn’t have mocked him.”
“Point taken. Are there other rules to the jazz club I should know before I inadvertently break one?”
“Too late.”
“How can it be too late? I just sat down and, I promise, I’ve only mocked you in my mind.”
“And yet you broke the rule of fellowship.”
“The rule of fellowship?”
He nodded. “Whenever the party consists of two couples, both must dance or none dance at all.”
“That’s a rule.”
He made an x over his heart and held up two fingers. “Cross my heart.”
She sighed, mimicking Kendra’s dramatic flair. “Ah, the things we do for the love of jazz.”
Clay stood and led her to the dance floor. Catching Joe’s eye, he nodded. Joe nodded back, his fingers dancing over the keys to the opening notes of “For Once in My Life.”
“I love this song,” Tandy breathed as they moved together.
“I know. I remember.”
His big hand was warm on the bare skin of her back. She laid her head on his shoulder, finding the hollow there that fit better than any pillow. His heartbeat thudded in her ear, and she relaxed into his arms like a bird who’d found its nest.
Kendra and Darin were a few steps away, talking and laughing, moving in time to the music. Kendra’s scarf swayed across her back as Darin turned her. Tandy closed her eyes and took in the moment, committing it to memory. From the sure firmness of Clay’s arms to the soft notes of the familiar melody, she drank in every detail using every sense.
The song ended too soon, and she opened her eyes to find Kendra looking at her, mouth set in a hard line. Kendra said something to Darin, who nodded and headed back to their booth.
“Excuse us, Clay.” Kendra walked over to them and pulled on Tandy’s wrist. “We just need to freshen up a bit.”
Clay smiled. “Oh, sure. Want us to go ahead and order for you?”
“Did Darin do something?” Tandy asked as soon as they were inside the door of a dressing area furnished with more upholstered chairs and a chaise lounge. A mirror ran from ceiling to floor on one side of the room. Tandy could see in its reflection that there were two bathroom stalls around the corner. She struggled to pay attention and get her mind out of the haze of that dance floor.
“No, it’s what you’re doing that has me worried.” Kendra put her hands on her silk-clad hips.
“What I’m doing? What do you mean?”
“I saw you out there. You looked like a couple of newlyweds.”
“No, we didn’t. At least, I didn’t.” She shook her head, pulling her brain into the room.
“Please, this is me you’re talking to. You can bluff your way around Joy and Meg but not me. You’re as crazy for him as he is for you.”
“So what if I am? I’m single and an adult, and as far as I know, so is he. What’s the problem?”
“Have you forgotten you’re leaving here in a week?”
“Nine days.”
“Whatever.” Kendra threw her hands in the air. “You’re going to leave and he’s going to be here.”
“I know this.” And I hate it, but I can’t change it.
“And still you’re letting yourself fall for him this hard?”
“Yeah, I am.”
They both stopped short at her admission.
“Look, it’s what we’ve got, okay?”
“You say that like you have some awful illness that only gives you nine days to live.”
“No, just a dream to go chase down.” Sadness weighed down her words, the haze of happiness completely obliterated.
“What if you change your dream, sis?”
“You know I can’t do that. People don’t change their dreams.”
“Of course they do. It’s just harder when those dreams were made with someone who isn’t here anymore.”
“I can’t, Ken. Momma and I talked about this forever. It was practically all we talked about those last couple of months. I’m not going to let her down by calling it quits because Clay Kelner moved back to town.” Tandy held up her hand to stop Kendra’s retort. “Don’t, please. It’s a ridiculous situation, I know. I get it. But it’s what we’ve got, and that’s a whole lot more than some people get, so we’re going to take it. Please don’t ruin it for me.”