“It’s nice to meet you, Wendell.” They shook hands.
“Likewise.”
“I like your braids. They suit your face.” Nanette waited for a sassy retort.
“Thanks for the compliment, Nanette.” She smoothed her hands over her head. “I’m going to eat lunch. See you later.”
The three of them watched her walk away.
“Honey, if Katisha is changing, I know that dolphins are flying and parrots are living at sea,” said Nanette.
35
It Happened So Fast
“This is a good thing, right?” Synaria asked Alice. She reread the letter from Savannah State University, unclear of the source of her friend’s sadness.
“It happened so fast.”
“You were shy one class. How long did you think it would take?”
“Syn, I don’t know. I never imagined my life would change so suddenly. Mama hasn’t been dead a year and I feel like I’m free falling.”
“How so?”
“Beryl is gone, I’ll be able to march and get my degree in December, I have the house, and thanks to Robert, I really don’t need the money from the inheritance since the civil suit’s been settled. The seventy-five-thousand dollars can hold me until I find a job. If that old snake in the grass is ever found, I’ll get more money.”
“I’ll ask you again. This is a good thing, right?”
The two of them reclined in Alice’s king-sized bed gorging on homemade sugar cookies with candied icing, butter almond ice cream, and Reese’s Sticks. Since being served with divorce papers and receiving news that she was a candidate for graduation, Alice’s emotions whirled faster than a roller coaster. They’d eaten at Elizabeth on Thirty-seventh earlier—Synaria’s gift to Alice for finally getting her degree—but Alice only finished a quarter of the Spicy Savannah Red Rice with Georgia Shrimp before breaking down. She wanted to go home, have something sweet to eat, and figure out how the next phase of her life would shake out. She chomped a Reese’s Stick and changed the channel to Being Mary Jane.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“Live. Be happy. Find a new man as fine as Stephen Bishop to have a baby with,” Synaria said, pointing to the actor.
“Stop making fun of me!” She wiped cookie crumbs from her mouth and broke into a seductive grin as the actor glided across the screen. “He is fine, though.”
“Yes. And I’m not making fun of you. I guess I don’t understand you.”
“What do you mean?”
Synaria moved the empty cookie platter to the nightstand and sat up. “You know I’m not religious, but I do believe in a higher power. We’re not smart enough to make all of this possible.” She waved her hands in a wide arc.
“And?”
“And, my friend, I watched you praying outside the library and some days in the children’s area for a way out of your situation.”
Her shoulders slumped. “You saw me praying?”
“Crying, too.”
“Pathetic Alice. That’s what everyone saw.”
“I didn’t say you were pathetic. My point is, if you were praying and believing, why is it such a shock that things are working in your favor and for your good?”
“Beryl left me without a fuss.”
“Isn’t it better he left without a fuss instead of you going to a shelter or being buried six feet under?”
She nodded.
“Do you realize the blessing of him not contesting anything?”
“From what I read, divorces can drag on forever.”
“Some divorces; not yours.”
“Okay. Good point.”
“So let me get this straight. You say you serve this mighty God, but He’s only real as long as he answers prayers the way you think He should?”
“I didn’t say He had to answer things my way.”
“You could’ve fooled me. All I hear is a woman still moping and whining when she should be praise dancing.”
“For someone who isn’t religious, you sound like an evangelist to me.”
“No. I just believe the Universe evens everything out in time. You reap what you sow, and you get what you think you’ll have. Somewhere you believed you deserved better and the Universe, or your God, agreed. Take the gift.”
“What do I do now?”
“What do you want to do?”
Alice sighed. She’d been dancing to the beat of everyone else’s drums so long she didn’t have a song of her own. “There are too many things to name.”
“Name three.”
“You sure?”
“I’m waiting.”
“I want a smaller house. This is too big for one person. I want something more intimate where I can entertain guests and have family over without exorbitant gas, water, and electricity bills. Kinda like Mary Jane’s house.”
“Sell this one. It’s in a great neighborhood. Say what you will about Beryl, but he kept the house modern, so you should fetch a pretty penny for it. If the smaller house needs renovating, remember Sabir does renovations. What else?”
“I want to design something. My sewing skills are rusty, but I know if I get back into the swing of things, I could have a small line of clothing, maybe do some alteration work. Before our big falling-out, Joshua let me get my old sewing machine out of the house. Toying with it on the weekends has brought back a lot of good memories. I had no idea so many Simplicity and Butterick patterns were in the garage. Some of those clothes are back in style.”
“Name one more.”
“I want to get to know me. My likes, dislikes, quirks, idiosyncrasies. On a whim I went to the skating rink two weeks ago and laughed until my eyes watered. Sure, the young’uns were dancing, flipping, and doing tricks above my head, but it was so exhilarating. I’ve also been bowling. It’s scary, but I’m learning new things about myself I didn’t know.”
“Excellent! Since you’ve put your desires out in the Universe, you have to work at making them a reality.”
“Well, enlightened guru, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“When are you going to ask the Universe to hook you up with Joshua?”
“Please. He’s a good friend.”
“Sure. Don’t think I don’t see the way your eyes light up when you’re near him or that wide Kool-Aid grin you break into when he’s around.”
“He’s a friend.”
“Now who’s afraid?”
“I’m not afraid. We’ve both been burned by love. I don’t want to let him down and I don’t want him to let me down. You never really know a person until you work with them or live with them. I like the little fantasy we have going on right now.”
“Letting each other down is inevitable; getting back up and trying again is what makes the relationship magic. If I’d had that with Beryl, who knows what might have happened.”
“But who wants to go into a relationship knowing you’ll be exposed.”
“It wouldn’t be called love if it wasn’t set up that way.”
“See, you’re the guru.” She drained the last of her Fanta Mango. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Joshua met Langston.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there when the meet-up took place.”
“Deborah finally relented?”
“No way. Benson blood flows through those veins. Langston did some snooping and found Joshua. He went to his house and spent hours catching up. Joshua was over the moon after meeting his son.”
Alice fingered Mattie’s St. Christopher necklace she’d inherited from the jewelry box. “I am grateful, Syn. I also wish Mama had lived to see us fulfill the desires she had for us. Joshua has at least met his son, Gigi is holding down a job, and I finished school like she wanted me to do. It’s so unfair she didn’t get to see our progress.”
Synaria offered her grandmother’s signature comfort line. “She’s looking down on you from heaven and smiling.”
“Yea, but heaven’s not here.”
36
/>
Your Eyes And Ears
Dear Ms. Mattie:
This is my last correspondence. Since you haven’t responded to my previous messages, I can only assume you’ve decided to stay where you are. Our agreement was for me to watch your family for a weekend, one month tops. I so hoped you’d return and make amends with your children. I have no desire to turn you in to the authorities; you have to deal with the decision you’ve made. I would, however, like to give you an update as to what I’ve witnessed with your children. They are a resilient bunch.
I frequent the Target on Abercorn and see Gabrielle often. She is quite the saleswoman. Her looks don’t hurt, either, but she has a genuine concern for her customers. Seems she’s moved into a little apartment close to the River Walk.
Joshua’s son came to visit him. He is your son’s spitting image, only a little lighter. I don’t have much more to add about their reunion; I only know they are in touch with each other.
Alice is alone these days. I checked the courts public records and discovered she’s been served by her husband, Beryl. She will probably be divorced by the time you receive this letter. She is hanging out with her friend, Synaria, more often. Her wardrobe has improved, and she’s smiling more.
The money enclosed is what you paid me. I can’t keep this money knowing you are still alive. It makes me feel like a co-conspirator. This has been one of the most exciting assignments I’ve had in a while. It was like watching nieces or nephews grow and develop.
I pray all is well with you and you are experiencing a measure of peace where you’re living. If you should need anything, anything at all, I am a phone call away.
Signed,
Your Eyes and Ears
Mattie’s heart swelled at his words. She stuffed the money in her purse, fished her pre-paid cell phone out, and thought of calling Ursula. How would she explain herself? What would be the best course of action in this case? More importantly, what lie could she tell to possibly explain her disappearance?
“They don’t want to see me. They’ve probably split that money up and moved on with their lives.”
She tossed the phone in her purse again and covered up with the hand-stitched quilt Ursula’s daughter-in-law had given her. The Price is Right, hot chocolate, and her afternoon nap would cure her heartache.
37
A Modern-Day Boaz
The crowded elevator area made Gabrielle take the stairs. The lively crowd downstairs paled in comparison to the upstairs action at 10 Downing at Churchill’s. People covered every space of the restaurant’s balcony. The weather cooperated for Mrs. Coles’s retirement party; the eighty-degree temperature was warm enough for the August event, but not too stifling. Georgia heat could beat you down worse than Floyd Mayweather in the summer. She pulled the invitation from her purse and handed it to an attendant at the door.
“Gabrielle Benson, you are at table six. Enjoy the festivities.”
She stepped inside the party and saw the continued theme from the invitation. Blue and yellow streamers, balloons, and confetti filled the restaurant. People of various ages chatted, laughed, and talked about Alva Jean. Gabrielle spotted Nanette who waved her over.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Nanette twirled her around, taking in her beautiful dress. “I knew you’d look stunning.”
“I’ve had this old thing forever.” She smoothed the ivory, knee-length Ralph Lauren cocktail dress, a gift from Colton. She opened the matching cream-and-pearl clutch and removed a five-dollar bill. “Do we do this now or later?”
“That was totally optional, but come on over so you can meet her.”
Gabrielle snaked her way through the maze of well-wishers until she reached Nanette’s mother. An only child, Nanette must have gotten her height from her father since her mother was the epitome of petite. She leaned down and gave her a big hug.
“Mama, this is my friend, Gigi I told you about.”
“Congratulations on your retirement!” she shouted over the noisy crowd.
“It’s my graduation, Sugah! I’ve graduated from the school of hard knocks, temperamental bosses, and sometimey coworkers. It wasn’t all bad, though. I met some of my best friends at Candler, but I’m ready to step into the next phase of my life. Thirty-two years on one job is nothing to sneeze at!”
“You’re right. I pray I can make it the next few years.”
“ ’Net told me you two get on well at Target. I told her to keep rising at the company, but she insists on being an entrepreneur like her father.”
“She told me about his businesses.”
“I kept the insurance and he kept the good pay flowing. Work well together. Yes we do.” She pointed to her husband who held a half-filled champagne flute and laughed with Wendell and a few other men.
Yep, Nanette got her dad’s height. Gabrielle eyed the crystal bowl of pins on the souvenir table and swiped a yellow one. “Come a little closer.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Gabrielle added the five-dollar bill on her dress as the other guests had done. When she was done, Alva touched her bounty.
“I’m putting all this money in our vacation account. First place we’re going is Sweden. I’ve wanted to visit there forever. We normally went to the Caribbean islands and other locales, but never Sweden.”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself, Ms. Alva.”
“Call me Alva Jean.”
“Mama, I’m taking Gigi to her table. Be back soon.”
Several men complimented her as she made her way to table six. She smiled, nodded, and kept her eyes straight ahead. Relationship drama was a thing of the past. Ms. Alva Jean was the star of tonight’s show.
A handsome man stood when she arrived at the table. He pulled out her chair and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Peter Tucker. You must be Gabrielle. I’m Wendell’s uncle.”
She gave Nanette a hard glare before acknowledging him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Peter.”
Nanette disappeared into the crowd before Gabrielle could threaten her. She refocused her attention on her potential beau, taking in everything from his tailored gray business suit, shiny cuff links, starched shirt, and matching blue-and-gray tie. She pretended to drop her purse to get a look at his shoes. Daniel Benson said, “Never trust a man who doesn’t take care of his shoes.” Peter retrieved her purse, passing the shoe test with flying colors.
“You comfortable with their matchmaking?” he asked.
His grooming matched his looks. His gritty stubble gave him a distinguished air; dark brown eyes flickered with curiosity as he waited for her response.
“I told them I was done with dating.”
“So they twisted your arm, too?” he asked. When he laughed at his own question, his gleaming smile put her at ease. Light-brown skin with a smattering of freckles on his cheeks and nose mirrored Wendell’s. They could be father and son instead of nephew and uncle.
“So how do you know the Coleses? Through Wendell only?”
“No. Nanette and Wendell are high school sweethearts. We’ve known each other’s families for years. They’re trying to get me to the altar, but they are the ones who need to hurry up and get married. I admire Wendell, though. He doesn’t want to get married until he can provide for ’Net in the way he deems appropriate.”
“A modern-day Boaz.”
“Yes. That’s Tucker tradition. You don’t take on a wife if you can’t provide for her.”
She liked the sound of that so much she reconsidered her earlier feelings. Maybe getting to know him wouldn’t be so bad. She could use an unattached male friend. Besides, who wanted to keep man sharing with other women? Or men?
Peter glanced at the preset menu. “So what do you think about the party so far?”
“It’s obvious Ms. Alva Jean is loved. She must have a thousand dollars pinned to her dress.”
“She is a wonderful woman. She and her husband took care of everyone in the neighborhood. Even though she worked, you
could count on homemade snacks on the counter and a big pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge after school. She worked the day shift at Candler, so ’Net was never home alone more than an hour after school. I looked out for the younger kids before I left for the military.”
Gabrielle felt someone staring at her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked two tables ahead. The woman quickly dropped her head.
Her memory raced. She’d dated so many married men in the past she couldn’t keep track. Could she be a forgotten wife? Someone with whom she’d had a run-in? She squeezed lemon into her water and took a sip.
“What were you saying?”
“Ms. Alva Jean. She deserves this big night and then some.”
“Indeed.”
Although others joined table six, Gabrielle and Peter prattled on like old friends. The food, served family style, was passed around the table. Periodically, Alva Jean traveled from table to table urging guests to eat their fill and drink champagne. She beamed with pride.
“The salmon’s the best,” said Peter.
Feeling eyes upon her again, Gabrielle sipped champagne and looked directly into the woman’s eyes. This time, they held their stare.
“Peter, I’m going to the restroom. Be back in a few.”
He stood, pulling her chair out again. He watched her walk away. He gave Wendell the thumbs-up as he took his seat.
38
Too Old To Have Children Anyway
She paced the bathroom floor, massaged her temples, and tried to figure out where she’d met the woman. She favored Randy Carter’s wife, but he wasn’t that old. The woman at the table had to be at least seventy. Maybe it was Randy’s mother. With one stall, she knew she couldn’t stay holed up in the bathroom long. She’d figure it out; she always did.
She washed her hands, opened the door, and spotted the woman standing near the bar area.
She approached Gabrielle. “Did I startle you?”
“Yes. No. I’m trying to figure out where we know each other from.”
“Let’s step out on the balcony.”
Gabrielle followed her, hands trembling, stomach lurching. She felt a tongue lashing coming on. Probably an admonishment about being a serial adulteress.
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