Grace was upset. She’d heard nothing but great reports about the older woman’s stellar cleaning skills, so this was news to her. “What’s wrong with the way she’s keeping up around here, Ted? The restrooms have never been cleaner, and I absolutely love the homemade desserts she’s spoiling us with.”
“That’s the problem!” Ted argued. “Since she’s been here, I’ve gained ten pounds, and boy, I don’t have to tell you how that’s becoming a big problem in the Lansford master bedroom. It’s getting so that I can’t keep up with that greedy young wife of mine.”
Grace tried to hide her face but couldn’t restrain the hilaritycoming out of it. “Whooo, too much information. I’m sorry for laughing, but that’s a visual I’d rather not have. I’ll talk to Miss Pearl and convince her to cease and desist with the goodies.”
“No!” he objected hurriedly. “Let’s not get hasty. All I want is for her to slow down the production, not close up shop. I’m in love with those peanut butter truffles she makes, and I’m not looking to give ’em up completely. How about we ask her to scale back the snacks to once or twice a week?”
“I see. Consider it done.” When Grace got a load of Ted’s pot belly, she curved her lips into a smile. “Maybe you could do some sit-ups or crunches to even things out.”
“I’m not a fanatic. It’s taken me years to build a shed over the good stuff. It adds character.”
“Once again, too much information,” Grace insisted, “way too much. Now you’ve gone and pushed the envelope clear off the table. I’ll speak to Betty Crocker, and you ... you go on back to your office and take that shed with you.” Ted stared down at his tight button-down shirt and massaged his belly all the way out of Grace’s office. “Good grief,” she sighed, pushing her assistant’s extension on the telephone. “Marcia, please send in Miss Pearl when you see her. Thanks.”
Within seconds, Skyler’s grandmother stuck her head into Grace’s office. “Yes, Miss Grace, you wanted to see me?” She shuffled in slowly, fearing that her work wasn’t up to par, or worse.
“Miss Pearl, you don’t have to be so formal with me. Graciehas been fine up ’til now and it still is,” Grace said compassionately.“How is everything going?”
“Okay, I guess. The people are nice and respectful. I like the job you got me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m asking, but I’d also like to know how things are going at the house.”
“Oh, me and Skyler love it so. It’s a blessing. An oven that don’t short out makes it a heap easier to bake all those sweets I’ve been bringing up to the break room.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Grace said, looking for the right words to soften the blow. She knew that providing afternoon treats made Miss Pearl feel very important. “It’s been brought to my attention that while everyone absolutely adores your treats, we’re starting to enjoy them too much for our own good.”
“Huh, ’specially that head man, Mr. Lansford. Last week, I had to clean up a mess of crumbs from around his desk. He must’ve eaten a dozen truffles before the others had the chance to get a single whiff.” Miss Pearl’s lips curled into a soft grin when she thought back on the fuss Ted made over them. “If he don’t watch out, that pretty little wife of his is gonna be sore at him.”
“And we can’t be a party to that, Miss Pearl. Why don’t you cut back on the sweets to once a week, and together, you and I can save Mr. Lansford’s marriage.”
“I guess he don’t have to know we’re helping him out behindhis back,” she decided. “That it? Okay, I’d better get back to work then. Yesterday I caught that Bob fella, who likes wearing frilly clothes, coming out of the men’s room, and I almost tore up my knee trying to get outta the way. They got a name for boys who parade around in soft getups, but I can’t recollect what that is right now.”
“It doesn’t matter. Bob’s a good employee. He’s just going through a phase at the moment,” was Grace’s best effortat squashing that particular discussion, although Miss Pearl had another comment to get off her chest.
“That’s what they calling it now, a phase? Lawd, when I was coming up they called it sissified. He might as well come on out the closet. It’s a heap more room out here than it is in there. Thanks for the talk, Gracie, I love this job and would hate to lose it flapping my gums with you. Good day.” She tossed Grace a grand smile as she climbed out of the chair to leave.
After having been warmed throughout, Grace listened to Miss Pearl humming a few bars of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” while she trod along, pushing a mop bucket down the hall. Long gone had been the days of fighting for equal rights for colored folk, the cleaning lady once told Grace, but the fight to maintain dignity while working the most menialof jobs would continue forever. Grace remembered the prostitute from the fast food restroom and couldn’t have agreed more. Pride was a luxury that poor people couldn’t afford when the lights were cut off.
Later in the day, the call Grace had been anticipating interruptedher thoughts of seeing Wallace again. “Yes, Edward,I can talk. Go ahead.”
“I’ll bet you don’t feel bad about dragging our business in front of Muriel’s face?”
“Actually, I’ve never felt better. My world is clicking on all cylinders now that I don’t have to keep anything from our son.”
“I don’t like hiding anything either, Grace,” Edward elucidated,not too convincingly. “It’s not like she didn’t already know about André, but springing him on her was kinda cruel. She’s gotten over it, but I’m afraid she’s not quite over you.”
Grace leaned back in her chair and rocked in it before questioning the last comment. “What do you mean? Has Muriel come out and said so, or has she been hinting around to something bothering her after meeting me?”
“I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s petty jealousy, a woman thing. She’s been up late worrying about you creeping behindher, I know that much.”
“Far be it for me to help you with your wife’s esteem, but she’ll see that you and I have only one thing in common, a boy who enjoyed being with his father. Tell her I said she doesn’t have a reason to be concerned about me, not one.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do to smooth things over. Would it be all right with you if I contacted André at home?” Since Edward seemed to be on the straight and narrow, Grace told him that would be just peachy with her. “I’ll try to reach him in a day or two. The girls can’t stop talking about their new big brother. They think he hung the moon.”
“Play your cards right with Dré and he’ll begin to feel the same way about you,” Grace informed him before ending the phone call. She was glad for the first time that Edward had called. Her neck wasn’t sore from overwhelming tension like before, and it seemed that the wedge between them was weakening. Grace had God on her side, and He was using Wallace to help facilitate a number of changes in her life. Wallace’s friendship inspired Grace to expect more from men. How to go about getting it had to be orchestrated properly if she expected things to blossom into a long-term relationship. In no time flat, something suggested what Grace’s next move should be. As usual, she responded in grand fashion.
She stood up from her desk and headed over to close the office door. On her way back, she smiled and clasped her hands gently as if one of them belonged to Wallace. Her smile hadn’t dissipated one iota by the time the phone began ringing on the other end.
“Hello, this is Wallace.”
Grace melted as his voice hummed in her ear. “Hey you,” she purred tenderly. “I hope that I’m not disturbing you.”
“No, don’t be silly,” he answered. “The only way you could do that is if you stopped calling me.”
“Ooh, you always seem to know just what to say to get a girl thinking. That’s another reason I’m calling.”
“Okay,” he offered in a questioning tone, not sure how to respond to her loaded comment. “What’s the other reason?”
“Well, like I said, I was thinking about y
ou attending church service with me this Sunday. If you’re not too busy,” she added, crossing her fingers.
“Oh, a church date?” Wallace said with a slow rise in his voice. “I see.”
“You see? That’s not quite the answer I was shooting for,” Grace admitted, somewhat disappointed.
“Then how about an emphatic I would love to? Will that one suit you, or should I have it written across the sky in bold print?” Wallace fully understood the implications of a church date when Grace invited him to worship with her and André. It was commonly known to be a precursor to a trip down the aisle. With that in mind, Wallace still agreed to accompanyher.
“A simple yes would have sufficed,” Grace replied eventually,after imagining Wallace going through the trouble of paying to have an airplane spell it out high above her office building. “It’s a date then. And Wallace, thank you, for everything.”
“You’re very welcome, for everything. And if you don’t mind, I’d rather pick you guys up and ride over together.”
“Yes, that would be nice,” Grace purred again, “Very nice. I’ll look forward to it. Bye.” She lowered the phone receiveron its cradle and sighed longingly. “Wow, what a man.”
As their date officially started at the church foyer on Sundaymorning, it swelled with the faithful awaiting services to begin. Grace was glowing inside, and outside, too, for that matter. The tangerine wool blend two-piece skirt set she wore, with matching pumps, was the perfect ensemble for the occasion. Fitting comfortably into a size ten, she didn’t mind the short cut of the tailored jacket. After catching several brethren in the congregation stealing a glimpse, it affirmed that they didn’t mind it, either. Grace was accustomed to beinggreeted with men’s roving eyes. However, she didn’t know what to make of the additional attention thrown at her by fellowsisters in the congregation. Single women who barely spoke to her before then casually struck up conversations to wrangle introductions with Wallace in the event that Grace failed to close the deal. Somehow, she’d obtained instant celebrity status, and by the end of the amens and hallelujahs, she proudly wrapped her arm in Wallace’s and pulled him so close that the female wolves in nightclub clothing couldn’t sink their teeth into her eye candy. Grace was beginning to understand the level of work that went into putting her brand on a fine hunk of man to discourage would-be rustlers with a mind to do the same.
“Grace, don’t drag him off before I get the chance to meet him,” Albert the skirthound announced. “It’s good to finally see what’s been keeping Grace from me after all this time.” Amid Grace’s cold stare, Albert didn’t step off right away. “Watch your back, now,” he warned Wallace. “Until y’all tie the knot, I still got a shot.” Grace was looking at Albert cross-eyed like “I know you-do-not” when Sister Kolislaw tapped her on the shoulder outside the exit doors.
“Sistah Hilliard, you’re looking mighty spry this afternoon.Who’s the lucky man?” she questioned happily.
“Sister Kolislaw’s the wife of one of the deacons, Wallace,”Grace told him, while flaunting him simultaneously. “This is Wallace Peters. Sister Kolislaw here has been my personal mentor in the matters of the heart, among other things.” André snickered when he overheard that comment. Grace was quick to run him off with a patented go-on-and-play-childmotherly expression.
“My, my, Sistah Hilliard,” uttered Grace’s mentor, adorned in a light shade of pink from top to bottom. “When you set your mind to something, you go all out. He’s a real looker.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Wallace replied fondly. “Grace is quite the looker as well.”
“Uh-huh, you have a sharp eye for detail.” The gray-hairedlady took her time sizing up Wallace’s expensive shoes and neatly pressed black designer suit. “Do you have a church home, brotha Peters?” she asked, and then winked at Grace.
“Yes, ma’am, I do. Though I’m not in attendance with the saints as often as I should,” he admitted openly.
“We can fix that lickity-split, huh, Grace?”
“If you say so,” she agreed, squirming out of that one.
“Well, I didn’t aim to hold y’all from supper, but I had to see for myself what the fuss was about.” Sister Kolislaw squeezed both of Wallace’s hands firmly. “I’m looking forwardto seeing you here again, son. And, if I’m as sharp as I used to be, Grace would too. Nice to know you.” She pulled Grace aside to confer quietly. “He found you all right. Now what are you going to do about staying found? You’d better get to knowing what his intentions are and where his heart is before bringing him back up in here. There were a lot of sistahstaking numbers and getting in line this morning, and not all of them had their husbands’ blessings. If I hadn’t investedover thirty years with the one I got, I’d have been right along with ’em.”
Grace was halfway through dinner when she experienced thoughts of Wallace falling prey to another woman. She hadn’t taken the time to inquire about his plans for marriage, but the fact that André was chowing down on a slab of chicken-friedsteak in front of them wouldn’t allow for it, although offering Wallace an innocent cup of coffee at her home just might.
Sitting on the passenger side of a moving car was a thrill in itself for Grace, after having been André’s personal chauffeurfrom his birth. She wanted to reach across the console several times and rest her hand on Wallace’s arm during the drive over. A wide-eyed man-child sitting in the backseat prevented her from moving on it, not to mention what reactionit would have drawn from the driver’s side of that shiny luxury car. Sure, Grace had seen Wallace eight times now, and yes, she was counting, but how well did she really know him? Come to think of it, how well did he know her, she also considered as they approached her driveway. Getting rid of André was Grace’s top priority if she expected to create an avenue to facilitate a twenty-questions session that was long overdue.
“Dré, aren’t you going to hang out at the recreation center this afternoon?” she baited him once they were inside.
“No, ma’am. It’s Sunday, the rec is closed on Sunday.” André sat on his bed and eased off his church shoes. “Whew, I can’t wait to turn on the Mav’s game. Allen Foray is leading the conference in points per game. Maybe Mr. Peters can watch it with me?” Maybe Mr. Peters has better things to do, Grace thought to herself.
“Um, I was thinking that Wallace and I could have a chance to talk in the den. Do you mind catching the game upstairs in the study?” Grace was willing to buy André a ticket, call him a limo, and rent a chaperone if that would have gotten him out of the way momentarily.
“Na, I don’t like that TV,” he replied nonchalantly. “Tube’s too small. I’d rather hang out in the den with y’all.” André glanced up at Grace, who was biting on her bottom lip. He flashed an impish grin and chuckled. “Gotcha! Ma, I know you like Mr. Peters. I’m a kid, but I’m not stupid. He likes you too.”
“Oh Dré, you ought to be ashamed, playing me like that. So, you are actually okay with me and your teacher hitting it off ?”
“It’s not up to me, but he’s cool as teachers go. Everybody likes him. Don’t sweat it. The Mav’s game don’t, uh doesn’t, come on until six. Y ’all will be finished talking by six?”
“Let’s see,” Grace said, noting that the current time was two-fifteen. “I don’t know. That’ll be cutting it kinda close. You may have to miss the first quarter.”
André sprang off the bed in a panic. “Ma’, I can’t miss—” he started to complain, before seeing Grace’s smile light up the room.
“Gotcha back!” she told him. “Never forget, I’m the one who invented gotcha. Sure, we’ll be done hours before game time. And thanks for understanding that mamas need special friends, too. Portia isn’t the only woman with her eye on a cutie.”
“Was that a family meeting going on in there?” asked Wallace when Grace returned from André’s bedroom.
“Kinda, sorta,” she answered. “We had to get on the same page, mine. Coffee or tea?” she asked, approaching the pantry. “I think there
is some chamomile and peppermint.”
“I’d like a glass of orange juice, if that would save you some trouble.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble, but I also have OJ. That boy loves the stuff. If Dré could pump it in his veins, he would.”
Grace gestured toward the living area. Wallace was eager to escort her into the open room where there was a comfortablesectional to relax on. As it turned out, he was as anxious as Grace had been to discuss grown folks’ business. But beforethey did, Wallace had her cracking up when he shared tales of his own dating disasters, especially one about meetinga particular woman affectionately referred to as Pumpkinby her professional handler, Sly the Pimp. Regardless of how many times Wallace selected various other singles’ profileson a Web site and arranged dates to talk face-to-face, Pumpkin kept showing up with Sly demanding a small sittingfee for her time.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve had my run-ins with Sylvester Greenberg,”Grace was almost too embarrassed to say. “He’s Jewish,and he says being a black man is a state of mind. Oomph, he wouldn’t be so quick to say that if he actually was one, ’cause too many of y’all are property of the state, doing time. Suddenly a faint memory pushed its way to the front of Grace’s. “Pumpkin? Pumpkin? Is she a thick chick, long braids, and runs real fast in high heels?”
“That’s her,” Wallace verified, with displeasure. “I think she showed up for our first date wearing high-heeled running shoes,” he mused. Grace nearly fell off the couch because she was laughing so hard. “Sly couldn’t catch her either, not in his platforms.”
“You’re so crazy, Wallace,” Grace mused, while flirting along the way. “I should have known you’d be witty and charming. Most men are fortunate to luck up on one out of two.”
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