A Piece of the Pie

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Finally, Bertie said, “I suppose anybody can change.”

  “Even me?” Evie asked, with attitude. “You don’t think I mean what I’m saying?”

  Bertie sniffed the air. “I smell a rat. You’re up to something.”

  “I need to see my daughter.” Evie pushed her plate aside. It was time for plan B. She covered her face with her hands, but left room so she could speak. Her voice trembled. “I’m … I’m not well. That’s the reason I’ve started attending church. So, you’re right I do have a motive for coming. I need to make things right with Pumpkin. That’s all.”

  Evie looked at Bertie whose brows were furrowed with concern.

  “You’re dying,” she gasped. “That’s why you’re skin and bones.”

  Evie nodded. Now all she needed were tears to make it real. A dying woman was bound to cry. She thought about Freddie leaving her, but all she felt was anger. She needed to cry or Bertie wouldn’t believe her. Then, Evie remembered Rodolpho’s knife at her throat. She had no problem crying then. “I’ve got to see Pumpkin. It’s the only way to make things right. I’ve got to apologize.”

  Her shoulders shook. Evie cried until her mother moved to hug her. Goodness, it felt good to be in her mother’s arms even if it were for the wrong reasons. Evie held on and welcomed her mother’s comfort.

  Bertie pulled away and wiped Evie’s face. Evie opened her eyes. Her eyes met brown ones filled with skepticism.

  “Don’t get mad, but as I was hugging you, I couldn’t help but remember how you used to make up stories. How do I know that isn’t what you’re doing now?” Bertie asked.

  Evie rubbed her eyes. Gosh, would she have to shed blood to get some more sympathy?

  She infused her next words with a touch of anger and disbelief. “You really think I’d lie about dying?” Evie shook her head. “I was young then. I’m a grown woman. I’ve got no reason to play games.”

  Bertie relaxed her shoulders, somewhat.

  “Do you need proof?” Evie asked, scraping back her chair. “I have the medical bills to prove it.”

  Please don’t ask for proof. Please don’t ask. She stood and hurried over to her purse. She made a show of digging in her bag.

  “I don’t need proof,” Bertie said. “I’m sorry. I do have reservations, but Pumpkin is a grown woman. She does need to know about your …” she gulped and held back tears. “I’ll let Pumpkin decide if she wants to see you.”

  Evie’s shoulder sagged. Thank God. All she had in her bag was the pawn slip and the eviction notice. Evie zipped her bag closed.

  “That’s okay,” Evie said. “I understand why you asked.” She injected the right amount of sincerity into her tone. “I just want to see my daughter.”

  “What do you have?”

  Evie bit back a groan. Does it matter? She wanted to ask. Dying was dying.

  “I have a rare, inoperable tumor in the left side of my brain.”

  Bertie’s eyes flooded with tears. She sank into one of the chairs and rested her head on the table. The table rocked from Bertie’s sobs as she prayed to God for healing and deliverance.

  Evie helped herself to a glass of water and returned to the table to finish the lasagna. While she ate, her mother prayed.

  Her mother prayed so long and hard, Evie knew she was going to hell for her lie. Problem was, Evie had already been there and back. She wasn’t the least bit afraid.

  8

  “He kept this from me for two years,” Pumpkin said, wiping a tear from her face.

  She sat at the glass table in the conference room at HPH Models Inc. She’d summoned Heaven and Honey under a “Code C Emergency.” Each of the friends used that terminology when they needed to talk. The ‘C’ stood for chat.

  “I don’t get why Cameron couldn’t do what normal people do and go see a shrink. Why did he have to put all his business on blast in this movie?” Honey asked.

  Pumpkin shook her head. “I wish I knew the answer to that myself. I guess guilt will make you do some crazy things.”

  “This isn’t crazy. It’s career suicide,” Honey said. “For you and for him. He’s not the only one who would suffer if this gets out.”

  “I’m so sorry this is happening to you,” Heaven interjected, with sympathy. With her dark skin and soulful eyes, Heaven was always in demand for editorial ads. She reached for the tissues in the middle of the table and got one for Pumpkin and herself.

  Honey wasn’t done voicing her concerns. “How’s this going to hurt his movie?” she asked.

  Pumpkin touched her forehead. “Ashton’s threatening to go to the press but I have no idea how this will impact the film. He’s bitter. He’s paralyzed in both his legs. Although Cameron says it may not be permanent. He believes Ashton could walk again.”

  “Yes, like Jesus walked on water.” Honey drawled out.

  “You don’t think miracles can happen?” Heaven asked Honey. “Look at me. I was born premature and the doctors didn’t think I’d make it. Now I’m twenty-seven and I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”

  “You eat well and you exercise,” Honey shot back. “Pumpkin, if you want to leave that joker, I’ll stand by you.” Her brown eyes flashed.

  Pumpkin didn’t know how someone with such a sweet face could be so fiery. Maybe that was the reason why Playboy was always after Honey to pose for their centerfold. But she had a sweet side that only those close to her got to see.

  Honey tapped Pumpkin on the shoulder. “You can always come stay with us if you want. Your room’s still vacant.” Before Pumpkin and Cameron married, she had shared a three-bedroom apartment in SoHo with the other two women.

  Heaven shook her head. “Don’t make any rash decisions. You’re hurting. Take some time. You don’t know what God has planned.” Heaven was the youngest of the three, but she gave advice beyond her years.

  Honey rolled her eyes. Pumpkin knew Honey’s faith had been shaken since she was nine years old when her pastor had molested her.

  “Let’s talk business. I’ve been crying for an hour and I need to hear some good news,” Pumpkin said.

  Heaven and Honey looked at each other.

  Pumpkin opened her eyes wide. “What is it?”

  No one looked like they wanted to talk. Pumpkin bit her lip. She didn’t think she could handle any more bad news.

  She looked back and forth at the two of them. “Would someone tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

  Honey squared her shoulders. “We lost the jeans deal. They went with another model.”

  “We also lost the cola ad,” Heaven said.

  Pumpkin leaned forward. “What? How?”

  “The McArthur Dolls underbid us,” Honey said.

  Pumpkin made a fist. “Beverley doesn’t need our small change. Why is she coming after us?”

  Honey cleared her throat. She couldn’t look Pumpkin in the eyes.

  Pumpkin pinned her with a look. “What did you do?”

  “I covered up several of her billboards with the Pumpkin Spice ad.”

  Pumpkin’s mouth dropped. “Why would you do that?”

  “She came out with Dolls and Pearls as soon as we announced our perfume. I think that’s downright shady. So, I paid some dudes to rip down some of her signs. If you ask me, all’s fair in competition.” Honey shrugged. She wasn’t the least bit remorseful.

  “It’s not competition and you know it. You’re still mad Jeremy married Beverley, though years have past,” Heaven said. “You didn’t even love the guy. You just hate to see him with a white woman. That’s what it’s about.”

  “He left me for her,” Honey said. “That’s what I’m upset about. If you leave a woman, upgrade. Don’t pick up a scrawny, fish-faced replacement. That’s an insult.”

  For the first time that day, Pumpkin laughed. “Honey, I’ll never understand your logic. I think Heaven’s right and you don’t want to admit it. You need to leave Beverley alone.”

  “I don’t have a problem with her being w
hite, but I’ll back off,” Honey said. Then she felt the need to say, “My mother is white. At least that’s what my father told me. I don’t know since neither she or her family wanted anything to do with me.” She didn’t even try to disguise the bitterness she felt.

  “I keep telling you to seek professional help for your anger issues,” Heaven said, “But you won’t listen.”

  Honey’s eyes flashed. “I don’t need to see a shrink. Next year, I’ll be thirty and I’ve survived this long without one. So, I’m fine. Thank you very much.”

  Pumpkin let the argument play out. She’d heard this same debate countless times before and she knew better than to try to take sides. Their bickering wouldn’t last long. They loved each other like sisters and they fought at times, but at the end of the day, they had each other’s back.

  “I’m adopted and I turned out all right,” Heaven said.

  “Not everyone has your charmed life,” Honey returned.

  Heaven’s eyes widened. “You know my life hasn’t been …” Her voice caught and she gulped. Heaven’s father had died of a heart attack. He hadn’t had his finances in order and Heaven and her mother had suffered for years.

  “I’m sorry,” Honey said. “You know I was shooting off at the mouth. I didn’t mean it.”

  Heaven nodded. “I know, but I wish you’d think before you speak. One day your mouth is going to land you behind bars.” Her predictions were lost on Honey.

  Honey flipped her hair. “But I can count on you guys bailing me out. Right?”

  Pumpkin smiled. “I love you both. You’re my sisters for life.” It was time for a much-needed subject change. “When are the perfume samples coming? I promised I’d send Christine Stanton one.”

  “The Christine Stanton?” Heaven said. Her eyes were wide with excitement.

  “Yes, the one and only,” Pumpkin replied. “We’re planning do a photo shoot together.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Honey pulled up the calendar on her iPad. After a quick swipe, she said, “The samples are due in about a week. I think the final product is divine.”

  “Speaking of divine,” Heaven said, rubbing her hands together, “Is Grandma Bertie making sweet potato pies for Thanksgiving?”

  Pumpkin laughed. “Yes. She said to tell you to bring your banana bread.”

  Heaven beamed. She loved baking.

  “I’ll bring a box of chocolates,” Honey said. She wasn’t the least bit domestically inclined. “You can never have too many.”

  Pumpkin laughed. “Are any of you bringing dates? Grandma said to ask.”

  Both women shook their heads.

  “I’m not trying to share that pie,” Heaven said, patting her stomach.

  Pumpkin shook her head. “I don’t know how you stay thin eating donuts and cakes the way you do.”

  Heaven gyrated her hips. “Don’t hate, appreciate.”

  “Is Cameron going to be there?” Honey asked. Her voice held an edge.

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I’m sleeping tonight,” Pumpkin said. She touched her wedding ring. How could so much change in just one day?

  “You need to be home with your husband,” Heaven said, gently. “That’s where you belong. You promised to be there for better or worse.”

  Pumpkin’s smile held sadness. “You sound like Grandma.”

  “Yes, she does,” Honey said. “That’s played out. You’re an independent woman and though he put a ring on it, you still run your own world.”

  Pumpkin cracked up. She had to laugh at all the Beyoncé-isms.

  “Okay, Beyon-not, that’s why you’re single and she’s married,” Heaven said, pointing at each of them.

  Pumpkin’s cell buzzed. While Heaven and Honey argued, she answered the call and then stood. She walked a few feet away so she could talk to Bertie.

  “Hey, Grandma. We were just talking about your sweet potato pies,” Pumpkin said. “Heaven and Honey are coming.”

  “How’s things with you and Cameron?” her grandmother whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?” Pumpkin whispered back.

  “I don’t want her to hear.”

  Pumpkin’s brows furrowed. “Who? Who don’t you want to hear?”

  “Your mother.”

  Pumpkin gasped. She almost dropped the phone.

  “What is it?” Honey asked.

  Both her and Heaven came to where Pumpkin stood, frozen.

  “Is your grandmother all right?” Heaven asked.

  Pumpkin nodded. “Yes, she’s fine.” She gestured for the girls to wait.

  “Pumpkin, are you there?” Bertie said.

  “Yes… Yes, I’m here. Did I hear you right?”

  “Yes, Evie showed up yesterday. She’s planning to stay for Thanksgiving.” Bertie cleared her throat. “She wants to see you…”

  “I …” Pumpkin flashed back to the last and only time she’d seen her mother. It hadn’t been pretty. Evie had made Pumpkin’s sweet sixteen turn sour. “I don’t want to have anything to do with that woman. I don’t need a mother. I have you.”

  “I understand, but I think you should see her,” Bertie said. “It’s important.”

  “I…” Something in Bertie’s tone made her curious. Her grandmother wouldn’t ask if there weren’t something of significance going on. “Okay, fine, I’ll arrange a meeting at my place. I don’t want the press finding out about her and then turning this into a happy-ever-after story. Cause it’s not.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Bertie said.

  “I’ve got to go.” Pumpkin ended the call. Her mother was in town. She couldn’t believe it. She swayed.

  Heaven and Honey held on to her shoulders and led her to the table.

  “What’s going on?” Honey asked.

  “Apparently we’re having another guest for Thanksgiving,” Pumpkin said.

  Heaven shook her on the shoulders. “Who is it? You’re freaking me out. Who’s coming to dinner?”

  Pumpkin knew her eyes were wide. She could barely get the words out. “My mother. My mother’s coming to Thanksgiving Dinner.

  9

  “Pumpkin’s sending her driver for us,” Bertie said.

  “How long’s the drive?” Evie asked. She stuffed a forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth.

  “Mitch will probably get here in about an hour depending on traffic. You don’t need to rush your meal.” Bertie gave her a pointed look.

  There was something about coming home that made you a child again. Evie forced herself to slow down, but Bertie’s cooking was good. “Maybe we should’ve alerted the press. This reunion would be major news.” She lifted a hand to form an arc. “I can see it now. Supermodel and her Mother Reunite for Thanksgiving.” Evie could see the dollar signs and the reality show, Evie and Pumpkin.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Bertie warned. She took a sip of her black tea.

  Evie crooked her head. “Why not?” She had to think about it. The money she could make would clear her debt with Rodolpho. Of course, her mother didn’t know that. If she did, Bertie would stop Pumpkin from seeing her.

  “Pumpkin’s body might be on display, but she’s a private person,” Bertie said. “That’s why she’s having us come to her house instead of meeting in public.”

  “But this is good exposure,” Evie said, still feasting on her eggs. “The billboard said her perfume, Pumpkin Spice, is coming out the day before Thanksgiving. This is a great way to keep her name in the press.”

  “She doesn’t need you for that,” Bertie said, in a firm tone. “She has a husband whose face is in the papers every week. If she wants exposure, all she has to do is go outside. What she does need is family she can trust.”

  Goodness. Her mother was real protective. She’d have to change topics.

  Evie shrugged. “I so agree,” she said in a sugary voice. “It was just a suggestion. I was trying to help.”

  Bertie shook her head. “That’s not the way to go abou
t getting a relationship with Pumpkin. If you suggested that, she’d think you were here to use her celebrity status for your own gain.”

  “She would think that?” Evie pretended to be amazed. “Wow. That never crossed my mind. I can’t imagine anyone trying to take advantage of her.”

  “It’s happened more times than I’d care to mention,” her mother said in a much softer tone. Bertie gathered their breakfast dishes and went over to the sink. Her mother turned toward her.

  Evie rubbed her temples to keep Bertie from asking her to wash.

  “Are you okay?” Bertie asked.

  Evie felt a small measure of guilt. Her mother’s eyes were filled with worry. Maybe she should tell her the truth. Immediately, Evie dismissed that thought. Bertie could never know her sudden interest in family was about money.

  “Evie? Did you hear me?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s just a headache. I get them all the time. It’ll pass in a minute or two.”

  Or as soon as the chores are done. She eyed her chipped nail. She could use a manicure.

  Bertie wiped her hands on her apron. “If you’re not well, then maybe we should cancel going to see Pumpkin today.”

  “No, don’t cancel!” Evie jumped to her feet. “I promise I’m fine and to prove it, I’ll do the dishes.” She scurried over to the sink, turned on the faucet and grabbed the sponge. “Where do you keep the soap?”

  “Under the sink, but I can do that,” Bertie protested.

  “I want to. It’s a normal chore and I like normal. Why don’t you get dressed? I’ve got this handled.” Evie started washing.

  After a small protest, Bertie handed Evie the apron and went to get dressed. She returned in about twenty minutes wearing a white pantsuit. Evie finished scrubbing the stovetop.

  “Wow. I’m impressed,” her mother said, looking around. “When you were a little girl, you hated cleaning. I’d have to bribe you to clean your room.”

  Evie grinned. “That hasn’t changed. Just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.” She could say that about a lot of things. Evie generally kept a clean house. Back when she had one. She wiped the countertops.