Soulful Strut

by Emery, Lynn

  Instead of being appeased, Yarva swore and slapped Tyeisha’s arm away. She knocked Tyeisha off balance, which made her fall into a rolling cart filled with plates, glasses and cups.

  In a burst of protective fury, Monette shoved Yarva with enough force to knock her down. When Yarva popped up again, Monette drew back to slap her. Candi caught her by the wrist and jumped between the two women. Lenore stepped forward to stand beside the women facing Yarva.

  “You’ll end up back on the floor.” Monette tried to go around them, but Tyeisha helped Candi yank her back.

  “She would love to see you back in prison. It ain’t worth it. Look, I’m okay,” Tyeisha said quietly.

  Another resident ran into the kitchen. “Trudy heard the noise,” she blurted out.

  Trudy arrived seconds later. She looked at the broken dishes on the floor. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Some water spilled out of a glass. I slipped and bumped into the cart. Clumsy me,” Candi said quickly.

  “What happened to you?” Trudy gazed at Yarva, who still looked angry and off balance.

  “She tripped and almost knocked me over,” Candi said with a grin. She brushed dust from Yarva’s shirt with one hand as she spoke. “You alright, girl?”

  “Yeah, fine.” Yarva shot a heated look at Monette, and then looked away.

  “Sweep up those shards so no one gets cut. And I don’t think it will take six women to do that. Better hurry so you don’t miss the bus.” Trudy gave them all one last dubious look, as though searching for the real story.

  The women teased Candi about being so clumsy to make the story more believable. Others filed out as though nothing significant had happened. Tyeisha grabbed a broom. Monette opened the dishwasher and started loading it. Yarva stared at her but said nothing. Trudy glanced from her to Monette.

  “We’ll clean up,” Tyeisha assured Trudy. “I don’t have to be at work until three o’clock.” She focused on her task without glancing left or right.

  “The day counselor will be in at eight o’clock. Maybe she’ll help prevent any more ‘accidents.’ ” Trudy gave them all a look that was meant as a warning, then left.

  Yarva waited until Trudy’s footsteps faded. A thump signaled that her office door had closed. Only then did Yarva face Monette. “Put your hands on me again and you’ll be sorry.”

  “I don’t run scared. The next time you won’t get up so easily.” Monette started toward her, but Candi stopped her.

  “Like the man said, let’s all just get along.” Candi glanced at Yarva.

  “You comin’ to catch the bus, or you have to change her diapers, too?” Yarva held out both her arms as she stared at Candi. “We’re both gonna be late if we miss the eight-fifteen.”

  Candi looked at Monette. “Gotta go to work. Talk to you later.”

  “Okay,” Monette said after a few moments.

  “You all up in her face. What’s that about?” Candi asked Yarva as they left. Yarva’s mumbled reply was inaudible, but the surly tone said more than enough.

  “Damn, that was close.” Tyeisha added detergent to the dishwasher, and then turned the dial.

  Monette took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. She watched Tyeisha put away leftovers. “Luckily my anger management lessons clicked.”

  “Was that before or after you knocked the hell out of her?” Tyeisha’s mouth twitched until she started giggling uncontrollably.

  “Okay, so I’m a work in progress. Quit laughing.” Monette bumped her hip against Tyeisha playfully. They laughed together for a few minutes. Monette wiped the tile counters and swept the floor while Tyeisha washed large pots by hand. After ten minutes Monette managed to shake off some of her foul attitude.

  “I better get ready to leave. My parole officer is going to meet us at Second Chances,” Monette said as she dried her hands on a paper towel.

  “You’ve got more nerve than me, girl. I freeze up talkin’ in front of people. And with your parole officer starin’ at ya.” Tyeisha gave a melodramatic shiver of fear.

  “A lot of college professors and lawyers will be there, too,” Monette replied. She grinned when Tyeisha groaned in horror.

  “Lord, I’d rather pick up trash along highways than face that. Trudy has a good heart, but she don’t miss much. Speakin’ of which, be careful. Trudy can be your best friend or your worst nightmare.” Tyeisha nodded for emphasis.

  “So don’t let Yarva hassle me into messing up, right?” Monette wiped her hands on a paper towel and faced her.

  “Exactly. I think Yarva has issues cause you got a lot goin’ for you. She just lost another job.”

  “Let me guess, they fired her butt because of that big mouth and even bigger chip on her shoulder. Right?” Monette said.

  “Something like that,” Tyeisha said with a faint grin. “Plus Candi’s been braggin’ about you for weeks.”

  “I take it Yarva was sort of the queen bee around here?”

  Tyeisha nodded again. “She’s been around, lived in different places and got lots of stories. She always gives out advice. Yarva has had a real rough life, too.”

  Monette understood the message. For Tyeisha to say Yarva had it rough meant something. All of the women had gone through bad times. Yarva must have been through a truly harrowing life, even by their standards. Monette made a mental note to ask Candi for details.

  “For the sake of keeping peace I’ll try to work it out with her,” Monette said with a smile.

  “Humph, that shove you gave her might have been Yarva’s wake-up call. You know how that is.” Tyeisha put away the last of the cups and glasses.

  ‘True. Maybe I’ll let her get me back. That way she’ll save face and we can bury this feud.” Monette tossed the balled-up paper towel in the kitchen trash can.

  “You’re gonna let her hit you?” Tyeisha’s eyes went wide.

  “I’m forgiving, but I ain’t stupid,” Monette wisecracked.

  Trudy strode in briskly, looking at her watch as she came in. “I have one more phone call to make, and then we’ll leave at about nine-thirty, Monette. Be ready.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be spit polished and ready at zero nine hundred hours, ma’am.” Monette saluted.

  “Witty, quick with a comeback, and resourceful. Use those traits to do some good,” Trudy tossed back. She squinted at Monette, and then left again.

  “See ya later.” Tyeisha waved goodbye to Monette.

  “Yeah.”

  Monette dressed in a conservative pantsuit that didn’t fit too close. She pulled her hair back into a prim bun at her neck. When she looked at herself in the mirror, Monette smiled. Between the pearl button earrings and high collar of her blouse, Monette could be on her way to teach Bible lessons. Her choice was confirmed when Trudy gave a curt nod of approval. Trudy led the way to the station wagon. They drove for five minutes before Trudy spoke. She blended the Chevy Caprice into morning traffic on Interstate 110.

  “I listened to your show. Interesting callers. They mostly wanted to talk about you.” Trudy sped up to match the flow.

  “I kinda expected that, with the book and television interview.” Monette looked down at rooftops as they sped along on the raised roadway.

  “Naturally. So where do you go from here? New Beginnings, I mean.”

  “I want the same things other people want, a home and family around me. Nothing unusual.” Monette glanced at Trudy to get a clue, but her masked expression didn’t give one.

  “Family,” Trudy repeated. “You can have your children visit you anytime.”

  “They have their own lives. Maybe in time we’ll have some kind of a relationship.” Monette realized that she hadn’t made much of an effort to call, not even Karl. The truth was she feared being rejected.

  “I hope so. Talking about your past might embarrass them.”

  Monette let out a strained laugh at the notion. “Nothing they hear will surprise them. Karl and Talia could probably tell some stories I don’t rememb
er.”

  Trudy looked at her briefly, then ahead at the road again. “I see.”

  At one time Monette would have been angry at the implied judgment in Trudy’s tone. Not now. The only thing left from her previous life was the pain of losing her children. To avoid feeling more stinging regret, Monette pushed away the self-punishing thoughts. She changed the subject before Trudy decided to probe more old wounds.“Enough about me. Did you always want to be a social worker?” Monette asked.

  “No. I have a business degree and I’ve taken extra courses on running nonprofit organizations.” Trudy got into the exit lane for College Drive.

  “Interesting. You run the place like a business. I can see that,” Monette said. Trudy was crisp and efficient, like a boss making sure production stayed on schedule.

  “We don’t crank out machine parts or widgets, but we still have to operate efficiently. Otherwise we wouldn’t stay in our budget or keep our doors open. But I enjoy helping others, giving back, so to speak.” Trudy maneuvered the station wagon with skill as she stayed within the speed limit

  “Your social responsibility, you mean.” Monette knew the type. Trudy had probably never known poverty. Most likely she had come from an upper-middle-class background.

  “Definitely. My father and mother were committed volunteers in several causes. I got the gene,” Trudy said with a smile. “Guess you can call us a family of bleeding heart liberals. Except for my oldest brother. He’s somewhere right of Pat Buchanan.”

  “Mama and Daddy must have been scandalized,” Monette said.

  “You wouldn’t believe the ‘eventful’ dinner discussions we’ve had over the years,” Trudy joked. She took a right turn down a wide boulevard. “Speaking of strained family relationships, we could have a session with you and your relatives. More than one, in fact.”

  ‘Thanks, but I don’t think that’s necessary,” Monette said, then pressed her lips together.

  “I know you’re under a unique kind of stress. Unlike the other women at New Beginnings, your life is very public. You’re in a kind of fishbowl, especially with the radio show. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Trudy turned onto a parking lot next to a new-looking building. She nosed the long station wagon into a spot, and then turned to study Monette.

  “You mean if I take a fall I’ll have a big audience.” Monette gazed ahead through the car windshield.

  “That’s only part of it.” Trudy huffed as though trying to gather her thoughts and words. “What I really mean is maybe a lower profile would be less pressure. Having all eyes on you, in a manner of speaking, only adds to the burden of starting over.”

  Monette looked at her. “Yeah, but that’s the way things have worked out. Look, it’s like this. I had to make a lot of noise to get attention to my case. That attention got me out of prison. The spotlight won’t be going away anytime soon, not with my pardon hearing coming up. In the meantime, maybe I can use the spotlight to do some good. You know, like you. I’m trying to take care of my social responsibility.”

  Trudy gazed back at her for a few moments, and then nodded. “I’d better stop underestimating you, Miss Monette. One more thing.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Monette said with a smile.

  “No more accidents involving broken dishes or folks knocking each other down accidentally. We haven’t had any serious incidents at New Beginnings on my watch, and I intend for it to stay that way. I gave Yarva the same advice,” Trudy pressed on when Monette started to protest Her formidable expression had returned.

  “Message received,” Monette said.

  “Good,” Trudy said. Her heart-shaped face eased back into a look of benevolence. “Now let’s go help these young ladies benefit from those hard lessons you’ve learned.”Monette let out a long breath. “Sure. Remind me not to underestimate you either, Ms. Sherman.”

  Trudy let out a tinkling laugh that gave no hint of the iron will within. ‘Trust me, if I don’t one of the other ladies will.”

  They walked across toward the entrance, SECOND CHANCES ACADEMY scrolled across an electronic sign set on a tall pole. The date and list of events followed. Monette was impressed by the neat appearance of the grounds. Pretty flowers had been planted in rows on either side of the double front doors. As they neared the building, Monette had another idea.

  “Please be a guest on my show. You can put in a plug for contributions. I’m sure Chaz Franklin won’t mind at all.” Monette had also decided to ask the director of Second Chances as well.

  “Sure,” Trudy said promptly. “But I’ll wait until after your stay ends and you’ve moved on. We don’t want to give the other ladies the impression that you’re getting special treatment back at the house.”

  “Good point. I don’t mind the wait, but I want to help New Beginnings in some way,” Monette replied.

  “Anything that raises our profile helps with donations. I spend a lot of time begging for money. ‘Fund-raising’ is the nice term for it,” Trudy replied with a laugh.

  Monette laughed hard as she followed Trudy inside. For the next hour they took a tour of the program and met the staff. Next they spent another hour talking to the adolescent girls who were participants in the program. Trudy sincerely loved interacting with the energetic teens. By the time they left, Monette and Trudy had spent most of the morning at Second Chances Academy. The executive director, Danica Zachary, had convinced Monette to volunteer at least ten hours a week. The dynamic thirty-something woman never seemed to stop moving. By the end of Monette’s visit, Danica had agreed to do an interview on Hot Topic.

  When Monette got back to New Beginnings, her mood was much improved. Not all of her loose ends were tied up, but at least she had more direction. With three shows planned, she had one less worry. By late afternoon, when other residents began arriving from work or community service, Monette had even made progress on her book. Candi came upstairs first, followed by Tyeisha. Candi sank onto the bed with a sigh, Tyeisha, still full of youthful vigor even after a day on her feet, dashed down the hallway yelling that she would be back.

  “How’d it go with the kiddy desperados?” Candi finally said. She lay with her eyes closed.

  “They’re high-spirited, though misguided, young girls, Candi,” Monette corrected.

  “Uh-huh. So?” Candi opened one eye to look at her.

  “I think they really did listen. Well, some of them, anyway.” Monette finished writing one last sentence and turned around in her seat at the desk.

  Candi sat up, yawned and scratched her stomach. “In other words, they blew off most of what you said. At least you got more community service credit”

  Monette shook her head. “Don’t be so cynical. The children are our future.”

  “Then we’re in big trouble,” Candi replied with a snort. She saw Yarva out in the hall and leaned forward. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Nothin’,” was the terse reply.

  “I want to say something to you, Yarva.” Monette went to the door.

  Yarva stopped but stayed outside the room. She looked Monette up and down. “Well?”

  “I’m sorry about this morning. You were just teasing, and I took it the wrong way. My fault” Monette shrugged.

  “Damn,” Candi breathed. She blinked rapidly at Monette, then glanced at Yarva to see how she’d taken it“Yeah, whatever.” Yarva studied Monette with a look that said she didn’t trust her.

  Monette doubted Yarva had let go of being knocked around that easy. Still, she was determined to be conciliatory. They wouldn’t become buddies or hug, but at least they could avoid a fistfight “Good. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.”

  “Okay.” Yarva frowned slightly, as though still trying to figure Monette’s angle. She seemed to let it go—for the moment, at least. She nodded and walked away.

  ‘The new me,” Monette said when she turned to Candi again. She did a neat curtsy and grinned at her.

  “Damn,” Candi whispered again and shook her head slowly.

 
; Chapter 5

  Late on Saturday afternoon Monette rubbed sweaty palms against the denim jeans she was wearing. Her son had come to see her. Lenore watched her pace upstairs, trying to prepare herself. Karl was more forgiving than Talia had ever been, yet Monette was still nervous. She wanted to be the woman Karl saw: Whenever he looked at her, no matter what she’d done or what anyone had tried to tell him about his mother, Karl had continued to believe in Monette. Even when Monette had told him they were right, even when they’d been separated for months at a time. Karl kept believing, and loving her. As a child, his honey-brown eyes had lit up each time he’d seen her. Monette kept right on being afraid that someday she’d disappoint him one time too many and that light in his eyes would die.

  “First time he’s seen me outside of prison since he was a teenager.”

  “Then don’t keep him waiting,” Lenore said quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  Monette nodded once but still hesitated. After a few seconds, she went down to the room where the women received visitors. Karl stood with his back to the door, looking out the window. He turned when Monette cleared her throat. Dressed in dark jeans and a light blue T-shirt that outlined his muscles, Karl looked like his father. He had the tanned, handsome Creole features of Juanico Marchand. Called Juan, he’d been Monette’s first love, though neither had known what real love meant. What they’d had had been adolescent lust. Juan had moved on after the male pride of fathering a child had faded. Looking at her son now, Monette saw the best that had come from her heartbreak. Her breath caught when Kart smiled. The light was bright.

  “Hey, Monette.” Karl’s shy grin produced twin dimples on both cheeks.

  “Hi, baby,” Monette said softly. His smile wiped away her jitters in an instant. She crossed the space between them quickly and wrapped him up in her embrace.

  “I’m glad to see you out of that place.” Karl pressed his face into her shoulder.

  She held onto him tightly for several minutes, unable to speak. Monette cried for the first time in months. Karl sniffed a few times, then stood straight again and wiped his eyes with a large hand. He coughed to cover one last sob, and Monette dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she’d taken from her jeans pocket.