A Different Kind of Blues

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A Different Kind of Blues Page 5

by Gwynne Forster


  So she meant to orchestrate their relationship, did she? He was having none of it. He was the parent, and if he was to have a relationship with her, it had to be as he directed.

  “Have a seat, Krista. I want to look at you for a minute. This takes some readjusting.”

  She sat down, crossed her knees, and swung her leg. “Like what?”

  He was raising two sons who respected and adored him, and neither was a smart ass. He leaned back in his chair. “Not many fathers and daughters have experienced what you and I are going through right now, Krista, and thank God for that. Both of us are victims, though you actually suffered the greater loss. So let’s not begin by hurting each other. I can’t make up for the nearly eighteen years I didn’t know you existed, and I am not going to try. I want to be a father to you now in every way that I can, but that depends on your willingness to behave as my daughter. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m surprised that I look so much like you,” she said.

  “Since you have my genes, you wouldn’t expect to look like Louis XV, would you?”

  Her eyes twinkled, and she, too, leaned back in her chair. “Never can tell. I have a friend with one blue eye and one brown one. Whose genes does he have?”

  Goodman couldn’t help laughing. “Sounds like the devil’s been there. I understand you’re furious with your mother.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “I don’t know. You see, I had a hunch she was pregnant, but I didn’t ask her because I didn’t want to know. I had plans that didn’t include marriage, and she knew that, so she let me off the hook by not mentioning it. If she’d told me, I wouldn’t have any of this.” He gestured with his hand. “And I wouldn’t have completed my education.

  “Understand that my poor family and relatives near and far pitched in to help pay for my education. I’m the first person on either side of my family to go to college, not to speak of graduate school, and I was not going to let them down. Petra knew that. I owe her plenty.”

  “That’s deep. You went to graduate school?” she asked him.

  “I got an undergraduate degree at Howard University and a graduate degree at The Royal College of Music in London.”

  Her eyes sparkled and a smile settled on her face, betraying an eagerness that only the youth possess. “Mom said you went to London in your junior year. You went back again? Gee. What do you play? I mean do you teach?”

  “I play the piano and the guitar well, and I teach piano, guitar, and violin.”

  “Can you teach me piano? I always wanted to learn to play the piano, but I never told Mom because I didn’t think we had enough money.”

  “I’ll enjoy teaching you. Your mother told me that you love music, and she said you have a good voice.”

  “I do love music, but I don’t know about my voice.” She sang a few bars of George Harrison’s “Something” and looked at him. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a beautiful instrument. Your mother’s right. When would you like to begin piano lessons?”

  “Like I said, I just got a job, and the store is open six days a week. As soon as I know which day I have off, I’ll let you know.” Her face clouded in a frown.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked her.

  “Uh…Am I…I mean, are you going to let me meet your children?”

  “You mean my other children? Your brothers. I hope to as soon as I shock them with news of your existence. I have to go home now, but first, I want your cell phone number. I notice you didn’t call me from your home phone.” Her eyes widened, and her bottom lip dropped. “Right,” he said. “You didn’t want your mother to know you called me. That doesn’t make sense, but it’s up to you. I have to leave now, and I’ll drive you home.”

  She laid back her shoulders and gave him a stern look. “I hadn’t planned to go home from here.”

  So she didn’t want to obey him. He’d see about that. “Really? Krista, playing games won’t help. Don’t forget; it was you who initiated this relationship. I’m taking you home.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Petra hadn’t given him her address, and he didn’t trust Krista to do it, for her use of a cell phone to contact him was sufficient evidence of her capacity for deviousness. He drove up to Petra’s house, put the car in park, but didn’t unlock the front passenger door until he walked around and used his key. He opened the door for Krista, and after she got out, he kissed her cheek. That she seemed speechless did not surprise him.

  “Thank you for coming to me. We’ll begin your music lessons as soon as you give me a day. My regards to Petra.”

  He waited until she was inside the house before he drove off to what awaited him at home when he told his family about Krista.

  Petra heard Krista come into the house and said to her mother, “I have to hang up now, Mama. Krista’s home, and I have to put supper on the table. Twylah and Lurlene are coming over later to play pinochle, and I want to finish cleaning the kitchen before they get here.”

  “Can’t Krista do that?”

  “Sometimes she does, but here lately, since I told her about Goodman, she’s less cooperative, and she’s morose.”

  “She’ll grow out of that. What you having for supper?”

  “Fried catfish, string beans, baked cornbread, and sliced tomatoes. I made a coconut pie.”

  “Sounds good to me. Give my regards to the girls, and tell Krista I want to see her.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I sure will.”

  Petra and Krista sat down to eat supper, and after Petra said grace, Krista didn’t start eating as she usually did at the moment Petra said amen.

  “I got a job at Dwill’s today, Mom. I’m the sales clerk in the table linens department. Me. All by myself.”

  Petra hardly believed what her ears heard. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and I’m going to work right up to when school starts. That way, I’ll have money for school, and I get a discount at the store, so I can buy all of my school clothes for thirty percent less than sale prices. Can we make a list of the things I’ll need so I can buy some each week?”

  Since she hadn’t received an acceptance from her favorite schools, she shouldn’t be overly optimistic, Petra reasoned, but she didn’t want to discourage her. At least, she had managed to find a good job.

  “All right. We can work on that this weekend. It’ll be interesting.”

  “Sure will. What do you know, Mom? I just left my father. He drove me here from his studios.”

  Petra’s fork clattered on her plate, and she wished she’d had the presence of mind to hide her surprise. “Wh…When did that happen? I mean, when did you call him?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How’d you get along?” Petra asked her.

  “All right. I don’t know how I feel about him. I have a feeling that he’s bossy and very strict, and he hasn’t told his wife and kids about me. Said he was waiting until after he met me. You think he’ll tell them?”

  “If he said he will. Goodman was always very straight, but I don’t know how he is now. When he tells his family, it’s going to cause some problems, because they won’t understand, and they won’t want a stranger intruding in their happy home. He’s going to have a hard time.”

  Krista’s face twisted in anger. “Why, for Pete’s sake? I have as much right there as they do.”

  “That may be true, but human beings are not always reasonable.” Petra’s words were those that her grandfather had frequently used when counseling her.

  “Humph,” Krista snorted. “A lot I care. He’s gonna teach me to play the piano, so they can go simmer themselves. I don’t have to love him or them; all I want is free piano lessons.”

  Petra didn’t like the sound of that. “Krista, don’t be self-centered. You’re almost eighteen years old, and, by law, in a few weeks your father won’t be required to do anything for you. If he gives you piano lessons, be grateful.”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s real good-looking
, Mom. You should’ve hooked him.”

  “I could have, but by now, he’d hate me, and I wouldn’t know what country he lived in.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He said he was dead set on getting a degree. I wonder what his kids look like. If Aunt Twylah and Aunt Lurlene are coming over, I’ll clean the kitchen. Are you gonna cut that pie before they come?” She drifted into her room, humming as she went.

  “At least she’s speaking to me, though I know that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s forgiven me,” Petra said to herself. She heard the doorbell and went to open the door.

  “Hi. Come on in,” she said to her two friends.

  “Hey, girl,” Twylah said. “When you going to the hairdresser? Either straighten that stuff or shave it off. Wool belongs on sheep.”

  “Oh, get off of Petra’s back,” Lurlene said. “What girlfriend needs is somebody to primp and preen for.”

  “Y’all get off my mom’s case,” Krista said, walking over to hug her mother’s friends.

  “Lurlene’s thoughts begin and end with the word ‘man,’” Petra said.

  “Trust me, it’s not just my thoughts that gets a bang out of men,” Lurlene said, “but I’m not going there right now.”

  “No, and it’s just as well,” Twylah said. “I’d swear that last one you had tagging along behind you checking out your back action must’ve had some kind of psychosis. Never saw such a jerk.”

  “Y’all leave poor Harry alone,” Lurlene said with a grin. “The brother thought his money would buy anything he wanted. I let him look, but he got nothing here.”

  “Hmmm,” Petra said. “That must be why he asked me if there was a Viagra for women. Deal, Twylah.”

  “Oh yeah? How come he expected you to have the answer to that?” Lurlene asked Petra.

  Petra looked at her run in spades, her two aces, and a marriage and bid two hundred and forty points. “I thought we agreed that poor Harry wasn’t rowing with both oars.” She played her run in spades first.

  “I see where this game’s going,” Twylah said. “Girlfriend’s showing off. I ain’t got nothing in my hand but skin.”

  “Y’all want some coconut pie?” Krista asked as she walked into the room carrying a tray. “I made some coffee, but you can have some ice tea, if you want it. I gotta get up early. Good night.”

  “Girl, you blessed to have such a nice daughter, so refined, and all,” Lurlene said. “Half the time, I don’t know where mine is. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  Don’t let your mind go there, Petra admonished herself. She had decided not to tell them, so she had to put up with occasional conversation that disturbed her. That was a small price to pay for the pleasure of having them treat her as they always had.

  Lurlene ate a piece of the pie and rolled her eyes skyward. “This pie sure is good. Is there anything you can’t do, Petra? I tell you, when I grow up, I wanna be just like you.”

  Petra tasted the pie and admitted to herself that she’d never done a better job of it. “To be like me, Lurlene, you have to grow a few inches, and lose some of that top.”

  “You go way from here. These boobs is my personality.”

  “Oh yeah,” Twylah said. “Seems to me you too old to have a bouncing personality. You’d better prop ’em up, ’less you want ’em to be hitting your knees a few years down the road.”

  “This sure was a good game,” Lurlene said. “We better get going, Twylah, ’cause you know I gotta punch the clock at eight tomorrow morning.”

  “Me, too,” Twylah said, “and I’ll be standing on my poor feet down at the post office. Every time I get a raise, they promote me to something else that I have to stand up in order to do. The way I look at it, happiness is sitting on my fanny.” Petra walked to the door with her friends, told them good night, closed, and locked the door.

  She hadn’t had time to savor the good that had happened that day. Krista had a good job, and formed a relationship with her father. Calmness stole over her, as it dawned on her that Krista would not have to depend on her grandmother alone, because Goodman would be there for her when she needed him.

  When Krista said that Goodman was bossy and probably very strict, Petra knew he meant to be a father to his daughter. She poured a glass of ice tea, sipped it, and gave thanks. One enormous load was off her shoulders.

  Petra finished her ablutions and as she was about to get in bed, her glance fell upon the yellow pad on her night table and the list of names with which she had to deal. She stared at the name Jada Hankins. Maybe she didn’t have to contact Jada, since she didn’t know the woman. In this case, it wasn’t what she did, but what she didn’t do. She’d been a coward. She turned the radio on for company and lowered the volume. She hadn’t felt guilty about Jada at the time, because her trial revealed that she had a shady past. Her name wasn’t Jada Hankins, but Rose Jackson; she’d changed it in order to make herself more glamorous. And she wasn’t a registered nurse, either, although she worked as one. It seemed that she’d been without work for two months, added RN to her name, and went to work as a private-duty nurse the very next day. What did she owe a woman who had that kind of history? To her mind, nothing.

  However, as she walked to work the next morning, the Reverend Collins fell in step with her. “Good morning, Petra. How are you feeling this morning?”

  “The same, sir. How are you?”

  “For a man my age, I’m feeling exceptionally well. How’re you coming with your list? Have you finished it yet? From what you told me, you should work on it a bit more diligently. You don’t want to get before the throne and have to bow your head.”

  “If I get that far, I’ll gladly bow my head.”

  He stopped walking. “Mind your words, young lady. And get on with what you have to do. I don’t preach no sinner’s funeral.”

  As he crossed the street, she said beneath her breath, “Who gave you the right to decide who’s a sinner and who isn’t?” She used her lunch hour to find Jada Hankins’s address and phone number, and discovered that the woman lived on the other side of the Patapsco. She went back to her office, closed the door, and made the dreaded call on her cell phone.

  “Miss Hankins, I’m Petra Fields. We haven’t met, but we do have something in common, and I’d like to meet with you for a few minutes after I get off from work. I have something to tell you, and it won’t take me but a few minutes.” At the long silence, she continued. “Don’t worry, miss Hankins, it isn’t anything bad. Could we meet some place for coffee?”

  “I’d say no way, but you got my curiosity up. How about the sushi bar on Hoyt Street? It’s right next door to the police station, so I don’t expect you’d try anything stupid there.”

  Petra inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly. “You definitely don’t have to worry about that. I can be there at five-thirty.”

  “Fine. I’m wearing a white skirt and a green T-shirt.”

  She told the woman good-bye, hung up, and heard a knock on her door. “Come in.”

  “I see you close your door these days,” Sally said as she sauntered in. “I’m sorry I acted out with you the other day, but I was mad enough to eat nails. I hope you don’t report me to Jack for insubordination. I can’t afford to lose this job.”

  “I’m not out to hurt anybody, Sally, so you can relax. I don’t blame you for getting angry, but it wouldn’t hurt you to find a more reasonable way to express it.”

  Sally’s expression was one of disbelief. “You mean you’re not going to tell him.”

  “No, I’m not. Now, would you please let me finish this ad?”

  As if she’d just been saved from an executioner, Sally’s face creased into a smile. “Sure. And if you need any help, let me know.”

  Petra finished the ad, put it on Jack’s desk, and called it a day. She had barely half an hour to get to the sushi bar, and she had a premonition that this meeting with Jada Hankins wouldn’t be the last one. Her grandfather had always said that premonitions were the Lord�
�s way of warning you to be careful. She’d be careful. But, these days, nothing frightened her, because whatever it was, it couldn’t last long.

  Petra took a seat near the back of the little restaurant so that she could watch the woman as she walked in and could gauge her personality. Within a few minutes, Jada Hankins strode in, tall, neat, and self-confident.

  “Hmmm. She’s going to be a problem. This is one proud woman.” Petra stood and smiled. “Thanks for coming, miss Hankins. I’m Petra Fields.”

  Jada’s smile barely made it to her face. “Hello,” she murmured.

  My, my, Petra thought. If her grandfather’s sayings had any merit, the woman’s handshake indicated weak character. “Would you like coffee or something else?” Petra asked her.

  “No, thanks. I take care of my shape. What did you want to tell me?”

  This woman was not going to be sympathetic, so the only choice was to say it and get it over with. “One night, last November, I was in a bar, and I saw two women start a fight with you, and one of them got a cut beneath her eye. The bartender called the police, and you asked for a witness to the fact that you didn’t start the fracas. I was ashamed to let my friends know I was hanging out in that bar. And I didn’t help you, though I knew you were innocent. I’m telling you, because I’m asking you to forgive me.”

  If she had noticed Jada’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips or the pulse beating rapidly at the side of her head, she might have prepared herself for the woman’s explosive response.

  “You bitch!!! You sit there like a saint and ask me to forgive you? Get outta my face! I spend ten days and nights in Ellicott City’s jail for something I didn’t do, plus I paid a thousand-dollar fine for disorderly conduct, and all because you and a lot of other cowards didn’t have the guts to step up and tell the truth. For nothing but minding my own business, I got a criminal record. Me forgive you? Hold your breath.” She got up, braced her knuckles on her hip bones, and added, “You ain’t heard the last of me.” With head high, shoulders back, and hips swinging, Jada pranced to the door.

  “’Scuse me, miss,” a man sitting near the door called to Jada. “I sure am enjoying the view, but I feel obliged to tell you your skirt’s sliding down.” Jada looked down, grabbed her skirt, and backed against the door.

 

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