For Your Love

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Go right ahead. Anyone want coffee?”

  As she handed out cups of brew, he began. In response to the names, she nodded at the town pharmacist, the grocery store manager, the owner of a gravel-­hauling operation, and a short, smiling man who ran the coffee shop. She already knew Arnold Katzman, who, with his wife Emma, co-­owned Franklin Flowers. He toasted her with his cup. “Great coffee, Ms. Brown.”

  “Thanks.”

  One guy owned the tire repair shop, another a sporting goods store. All in all, they represented a cross-­section of the Franklin business community.

  “Not everyone interested could make it here this morning, Ms. Brown,” Mr. Proctor explained, “but there are more.”

  Just then, Trent, Lily, and Bobby arrived.

  “Morning, Bernadine, Lyman,” said Trent.

  Proctor responded, “Trent, Ms. Lily. Good morning.”

  Trent introduced Bobby and then asked, “What have we missed?”

  “We’re just getting started,” she assured them. “Go ahead, Mr. Proctor.”

  He began with a litany of complaints about ser­vices being cut, forced evictions, and just plain old meanness on Astrid’s part. He informed her that every firefighter on the force had quit in response to the treatment of Luis Acosta, so there was no longer a department. The community was up in arms about the library being closed more hours than it was open. Businesses had been hit with a new surtax so outrageous, it threatened their meager profits and livelihood. Rents were going up, as were loan payments taken out on farm equipment, vehicles, and building improvements. “When Astrid gets done, there won’t be a town, so we want to move here. She may own our buildings and the land beneath them, but we own our inventory.”

  Bernadine looked to Trent and received a shrug. She still had no idea how to deal with this aside from saying yes, but that would open the floodgates to problems that made her head hurt just thinking about them. “Astrid’s been mayor less than a month—­maybe she’ll come to her senses. Is there someone advising her that you all can have a sit-­down with?”

  The men shared a look. Proctor said, “I don’t want to tell tales out of school, but her closest adviser is her bed buddy, Meryl Wingo.”

  “The high school principal!” Bernadine squawked.

  Proctor nodded. “The married-­with-­five-­children high school principal.”

  “Wow!” Lily said softly.

  The tire repair store owner, Ethan Wells, added, “They’ve been close for years.”

  Bernadine was blown away. After gathering herself, she said, “Gentlemen, we’ve talked about expanding Henry Adams, but we can’t accommodate all of you so quickly. Am I to assume you’ll all need a place to live, too?”

  Proctor nodded. “She’ll evict us first thing.”

  “We won’t have anyplace to house you until maybe next fall. And how do you plan to pay for the move, get your buildings constructed, and all the rest?”

  “We’re offering to put up our inventories as collateral, and some of us have savings. We’re hoping you can point us to a banker who’d consider lending to us.”

  Bernadine knew no bankers taking flowers, tires, or coffee machines as collateral for business loans. She would give Tina Craig, her financial adviser, a call and ask, though. “Does Astrid know you’re considering this?”

  “As far as we know, no. At least not yet, but she will eventually.”

  “So if she finds out you met with me and why, and decides to evict you all at, say, noon today, what are you going to do?”

  Proctor shrugged. “Do our best to survive until the spring. Somewhere. I own a lumberyard—­things are pretty slow for me in the winter anyway.”

  Bernadine sighed. She really wanted to help them, but she faced a dilemma. Could she, and would it be wise? As she’d said, Henry Adams was looking to expand, but not overnight. Either way, Astrid was going to throw a fit, and Bernadine had no desire to spend the Christmas season battling the devil.

  “So give me a rough estimate on how many businesses are looking to relocate,” said Trent.

  “Besides the ­people here, there are about five or six more.” He glanced around at the ­people with him, and they nodded in agreement.

  “Then we’re talking fifteen to twenty, plus your families?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s going to be quite a load. You’ll have to pay taxes if you move here.”

  “Of course. Would we own the land?”

  Bernadine replied, “No idea. That’s something I’ll have to add to the mix as I think this over, but I’d never hold the land over your heads the way Astrid is doing.”

  “Good.”

  The gravel hauler, Dick Slater, one of the two Black men in the group, spoke up. “I’d like to start my kids in your school, if that’s possible.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Chuckles were heard.

  “Astrid’s been reviewing the teacher contracts, and she’s cut a lot of the positions. The classrooms are overcrowded, and many of the teaching staff are threatening not to come back after the Christmas break. My kids’ education is important, and I’m not the only one wanting to make a change.”

  Astrid hadn’t wasted any time putting her stamp on things, Bernadine thought. “How many children do you have, and what ages?”

  “Two boys. One five, one seven.”

  Little ones. They were going to have to hire another teacher, maybe two. Luckily they’d had the forethought to build the school with expansion in mind. “Nonresidents have to pay tuition, but if you’d like to enroll them, it would be better after the break.”

  “Understood.”

  “See me after we’re done here for the forms we’ll need filled out,” said Lily. “That goes for anyone else interested, too.”

  “Will do.”

  This was turning out to be more than a notion Bernadine thought to herself. But the question nagging her was: Why? Why was Astrid doing this? So she asked.

  The answer was unanimous: “She’s broke.”

  “I’ve lived in Franklin all my life,” said Proctor, “and since Astrid’s daddy died and her grandmother Mabel moved to Florida, there’s been no one with a brain in charge of the town. She’s been using the town coffers as her personal checking account for years—­especially the past few. She doesn’t work at anything, so she has to have some way to pay for the new Caddy she buys every year and her trips to Europe and having the house redecorated whenever the mood hits her. Bleeding the town dry is the only way. There’ve been very few new residents in the last five years, and many of the houses are sitting empty, which is why she keeps raising rents and adding surtaxes on businesses. I wish I knew how to get in touch with Mabel. She never put up with Astrid’s nastiness, and she’d be appalled to know the town her grandparents founded was on the rocks, and that the residents were being treated this way. Then again, she has to be in her nineties now. Maybe she does know, but is just too old to do anything about it.”

  Bernadine was glad to have all this new information. It gave her a great deal of insight into Astrid, but what to do with it was anyone’s guess. “Gentlemen, is there anything else you need to say?”

  There wasn’t, so she said, “I’m going to talk to my lawyers, my finance ­people and have them offer me some advice, and get back to you after the holiday.”

  Proctor looked stricken.

  “Mr. Proctor, surely you didn’t expect me to answer you today? If you did, I’m truly sorry, but this is not something I can decide to do on the spot. There’s a lot to take into consideration here.”

  “I understand, and you’re right.” Proctor still looked sad, though.

  Bernadine felt bad for him and his group, but not enough to make a decision without input from her experts. “So let’s meet again after the first of the year, and
go from there.”

  They nodded and thanked her.

  As they donned their coats and prepared to leave, Mr. Proctor said, “Thanks again for hearing us out, Ms. Brown.”

  “No problem. I’m going to keep my fingers crossed that we can work this out somehow.”

  Bernadine and her administrative crew spent the rest of the morning making phone calls in an effort to evaluate the feasibility of Mr. Proctor’s proposal. Tina was on the case, as was Bernadine’s legal team, who were investigating what type of contracts or documents might be needed to go forward. Three of the men in the group had children they wanted to transfer to Jefferson Academy. Their kids were all younger than the students presently enrolled. From where she sat, Jack had enough to do without having to incorporate first-­ and second-­graders into his lesson plans, so she’d get with him after school to talk about expanding the teaching staff. With any luck they’d be able to have someone hired and in place by the time school started back up after the Christmas break. Thanks to Astrid and her machinations, the stress of turning the world had just upped itself a few more notches—­and she hadn’t even started her Christmas shopping.

  Entering the school auditorium for movie night, Bobby and Kelly were surprised by the sheer number of ­people inside—­Black, White, young, old, men, women, teens, little kids. The air was festive, buzzing with voices and laughter as ­people visited, staked out seats in the kiva-­shaped room, and stood in line for hot dogs, popcorn, nachos, drinks, and small plastic bowls of Tamar’s homemade ice cream. After all he’d experienced this week, Bobby didn’t know why he continued to be surprised by the happenings in town, but guessed it was because he had to keep pinching himself to make sure it was real. They’d left the twins at home in the care of Ms. Genevieve. She’d come over a few times during the week to get to know them better, and both she and Kiki had enjoyed the visits. Tonight was the first time they’d ever left the babies with a sitter, though. They were admittedly apprehensive, but looked forward to a few child-­free hours.

  “Hey, you two. Good to see you.” It was Mal July. “Get yourselves some eats and grab some seats before the place fills up. Going to get real crowded before the lights go out.”

  Kiki asked, “You do this every Friday night?”

  “Without fail. Gives us something special to do and helps us stay in touch, especially during the winter. Do you like old movies?”

  “I guess. Genevieve said tonight it’s Star Wars.”

  “Yep, and for us real old folks, The Bronze Buckaroo.”

  “Who?” Bobby asked with a laugh.

  “The Bronze Buckaroo. One of the movies Hollywood produced in the thirties and forties for folks who look like us. The Buckaroo was a singing cowboy. Guy named Herb Jeffries.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Most ­people your age haven’t. But he died recently. We’re showing the movie in his honor, and so the kids can check him out.”

  “I learned something,” Kiki said.

  “When you roll with us, you learn a lot,” Mal pointed out with a smile. “Let me get going. Enjoy yourselves.”

  They nodded their thanks, and he moved on.

  Kiki looked up at Bobby. “The Bronze Buckaroo.”

  “I know.”

  As Mal predicted, more and more ­people were filing in. Bobby spotted Trent’s son Amari and his friend Brain down front, setting up a small podium onstage. “You want popcorn?”

  “And a hot dog and a soda.”

  “Then let’s go.” In Dallas they would never have been able to waste money on something as frivolous as popcorn, but he’d been surprised by his first paycheck earlier. The amount wasn’t large, but it was substantially more than he was accustomed to bringing home.

  Moving through the crowd, they were greeted with smiles, words of welcome, and questions about the twins. ­People wanted to know how they were faring. Had they put up their Christmas tree, and were they getting used to the cold weather? “No!” Bobby and Kiki replied as one. That brought on laughs. Bobby felt as if they were in the midst of family, and he liked that.

  After running a quick sound check and setting up the podium so Tamar could make her announcements, Amari and Brain went to the kitchen. The place was a hotbed of activity as Tamar, Rocky, OG, and their team of volunteers prepared the food. Because the boys were now members of the crew, they were allowed to grab their snacks without having to stand in line, so they loaded up and went to their seats. Most of their peers were already there. Wyatt and Zoey, Devon, Leah, and Tiffany, along with some Franklin kids, took up one row. Eli and Crystal were MIA because they were holding down the Dog along with Siz. Leah had saved a seat beside her for Brain, so he joined her. Amari took a seat in the row behind everybody and started in on his nachos. He still had the heartbreak blues but was determined not to let that keep him from enjoying Star Wars, one of his favorite movies.

  “Hey, Amari. Can I sit next to you?”

  He looked up to see Kyra Jones standing above him. He was so surprised, he stuttered. “Uh, uh, yeah. Sure.” That she wanted to sit next to him sent the blues packing.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Once she made herself comfortable, he feverishly searched his mind for something to say that wouldn’t sound lame. That she’d actually sought him out had his brain shooting all over the place. “But I thought—­”

  “I know. My dad says I need more balance in my life. He sorta made me come.”

  Yay, Megatron. “Ah.” She smelled so good. “Do you know everybody?”

  Brain and the kids in his row had all turned around to look on.

  “I think so. Hey, everybody.”

  They all responded with a greeting. Brain had a look on his face that said, Whoa!

  Leah smiled. “Glad you came to sit with us.”

  Amari belatedly remembered that Kyra was in school with them. Of course she knew them all. She’s going to think you’re an idiot!

  Rather than open his mouth again and prove it, he simply sat and stared ahead—­but his heart was smiling.

  CHAPTER

  13

  The following morning, when Rita Lynn saw the number on her caller ID, she smiled and picked up. “Morning, Trent. How are you?”

  “Doing well, Mom. How about yourself?”

  “Same here. And the family?”

  “They’re good, too. We’re at the mall, doing our Christmas shopping. The kids and I want to know what’s on your list.”

  She melted inside. “You guys don’t have to get me anything.”

  “You’re getting something anyway, so it may as well be something you like, as opposed to something you’ll have to pretend to like.”

  “Okay.” Amusement filled her. She enjoyed his wit. “Let me think. Okay. I’d like a picture of the family. Another of each of my grandsons, separate and together. And one with just you and Lily.”

  “Got it. What else?”

  “That isn’t enough?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  She glanced at Paul, seated beside her on the deck. He grinned.

  “Is Paul there?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I speak to him, please?”

  “Sure.” She handed the phone over. Apparently to keep from being overheard, he took the cordless into the house.

  He returned shortly and handed it back. “Trent?” Rita asked.

  “Hey, Mom. Paul gave me everything I needed.”

  “Good,” she said, chuckling. “Can’t wait to see you and the family.”

  “Same here. Take care of yourself.”

  “Will do. You do the same.”

  She ended the call and sighed happily. “Am I supposed to be this giddy?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Not a
thing.”

  She punched him playfully. “Terrible man.”

  “Did Val get our tickets?”

  “Yes. We fly in on the twenty-­seventh and out January second. I hope that won’t be too long a stay. I’d hate to be an imposition.”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  She looked into his face. “Are you sure you won’t mind meeting Malachi?”

  “Are you planning on having any more babies with him?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I’ll be fine.”

  She cuddled close to him on the bench. “I love you so.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Ditto.”

  After the call ended, Trent related what he’d been told while he and the family ate lunch at one of the mall restaurants. “Paul said she’s a big college basketball fan. Likes to read, has a Kindle and a Nook, and likes jigsaw puzzles. She also likes music.”

  Lily said, “All doable. Good.”

  “Did he say what kind of music” asked Amari. “I don’t want to get her Jay Z and she likes Aretha Franklin.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can pass on the Jay Z.”

  “How about hard rock?” Devon asked while dunking a fry in the small mound of ketchup on the edge of his plate.

  “That’s probably a no, too.”

  “If she has a Kindle and a Nook, how about we get her a gift card?” Devon suggested. Like Lily, their youngest loved shopping online.

  “And there’s a KU Store here in the mall,” Amari pointed out. “You think she’d like a Jayhawk hoodie? I looked up Monterey on Google. It can get kind of cold there—­at least for California.”

  “Another great idea. You guys are the bomb-­dot-­com,” said Lily.

  Amari gave her the side-­eye. “No one says that anymore, Mom.”

  “Except for old ­people,” Devon drawled.

  Trent and Lily shared an amused look. “I’m so sorry,” Lily said. “I’ll send out an e-­blast when I get home and let my old friends know.”

  Both boys rolled their eyes.

  Trent enjoying watching the boys act in concert. It showed they were moving toward the sibling closeness he and Lily were hoping for but had never personally experienced.