by Lynn Emery
“Thanks, baby.” Derrick pressed his lips to her hand.
“Anyway, Mama Rose even mentioned building another house close to Shadow Road. That’s almost three miles from here.” Talia pursed her lips.
“Makes sense though. She’d be closer to stores, the post office, and her church.”
“I guess.” She looked around. “She put a lot of love into this house.”
“She put a lot of love into raising you and the other kids. You stayed with her the longest, so I’m not surprised she’d want you to have it.”
“I went back and forth. Monette convinced the social workers she’d changed at least five times.” Talia did not look angry despite her words. “At least I had Mama Rose to count on.”
“She’s worth gold,” Derrick agreed.
“Her doctor says Mama’s attitude has really helped. This man has helped,” Talia said.
“Have you met him?”
“She’s been keeping him undercover.” Talia laughed. “But he was visiting when I went over last week. Nice-looking distinguished guy with silver hair. Looks like the kind of man she’d find attractive.”
“Okay, so what have you found out about him?” Derrick grinned when she hesitated. “Come on, you’ve got the story on the dude.”
She laughed again. “You know me so well.”
He leaned toward her and put his arms around her waist. “Yes,” he said close to her ear. “Now tell me what you’ve dug up.”
“I didn’t ‘dig up’ anything. You make it sound like I went through the man’s trash or something,” Talia protested.
“Quit stalling. You know you want to tell me.”
“He’s a retired postman. His wife of twenty-five years died three years ago. Get this, he’s four years younger than Mama Rose.”
“Go for it, Mama Rose. Younger men have more energy!” Derrick laughed hard when Talia’s eyes widened with shock.
“Derrick! You don’t think they…” Her voice trailed off.
“They’re old, not dead.” Derrick continued to laugh at her stunned expression. Then she grinned back at him.
“My, my.” Talia shook her head slowly. “Anyway, who knows where this romance will lead.”
“I think it’s great. No one wants to be alone.” He hugged her closer.
“Then there’s Monette.” Talia wore a thoughtful frown.
“Yes?” Derrick decided not to push. He sensed there was some change in her feeling toward Monette.
“She’s stirring up a pot that could boil over and get her burned.” Talia sat back and looked at him. “Winn Barron is always on the news.”
“He was at our office last week.”
“Barron keeps beating his chest about how he’s protecting the public.” Talia’s eyes narrowed.
“I saw a newspaper article about the hearing.” Derrick rubbed his jaw. “He’s suddenly a very accessible state official, with the press I mean.”
“Rumor has it he plans to run for governor.” Talia sat forward with her elbows on the table.
Derrick nodded. “He’s got a real shot at it, too. I just don’t see why he’s taken such an interest in this bill. There are other issues that grab headlines more.”
“Sure, like the environment, education, and jobs,” Talia replied. “But maybe his polls show crime is higher on the public’s agenda.”
“Maybe.” Derrick wasn’t convinced. “I’m going to read the trial transcripts. Monette and those folks she hung out with must have really been a problem.”
“She sure seems to have made an impression on him.” Talia glanced at Derrick. “I’d say with the attorney general fighting her parole, she’s going to be in prison a long time.”
“She’s served fifteen years of a forty-year sentence.” Derrick sat forward with his arms resting on the table, his shoulder against hers. “It’s really a life sentence.”
“Yeah,” she said softly.
Neither spoke for several minutes. He could sense she was thinking about her mother. Talia leaned on him as though she needed support and physical reassurance. Her lovely brown eyes reflected the conflict within.
“Why don’t we walk off that tasty dinner? The sunset will be great over the pond out back. We can watch it together like we used to.” Derrick stood and held out a hand to her.
“Okay.”
After Talia locked the back door, they crossed the wide back porch and headed across the backyard. A well-worn path stretched through thick brush and tall trees. With the temperature around seventy degrees, the low humidity made the evening pleasant. Reddish yellow leaves mixed with the still mostly deep green ones in surrounding trees. Cool breezes shook them until the woods seemed to whisper its secrets. Squirrels hopped from branch to branch, with acorns in their mouths. Derrick and Talia didn’t talk. They strolled along with their arms around each other’s waist. Fifteen minutes later they came to a small stream. They turned north and followed the stream to where it emptied into a small lake. Papa George had named it Lake Rose. He’d stocked it with perch and catfish. A cypress picnic table he had made sat twenty yards away under an old oak tree. Three cypress benches were spaced out around the water’s edge, all with equally lovely views facing east, west, and south. Talia led the way to the closest one. Once they sat down, she sighed and gazed up at the deep blue sky. Fading light slanted across the water.
“Beautiful.” She breathed in deeply.
“Yes.” Derrick rested his chin on the soft cushion of her thick hair. “With the right person that is. I’ve said this a thousand times already, but I’m glad you’re home.”
“This is the first visit home I have actually enjoyed. Well, mostly.”
He could tell she was thinking about Monette still. “What are you going to do?”
Talia snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Go see her. It’s time.”
“I think so, too.”
“I don’t like this Barron guy playing with Monette’s life, just so he can score votes,” Talia said in a steely tone.
“I don’t much like the guy myself.” Derrick stared at the water as a breeze kicked up small ripples across the surface.
“Winn Barron and your boss are close pals, Derrick.” Talia shifted to look into his eyes. “Don’t do anything crazy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Derrick, Monette has Jim Rand on her side. Senator Jackson has clout, and his bill could pass.” Talia tugged on the rolled up sleeve of his cotton shirt. “You don’t need to take risks to help us.”
He took note of her use of the word “us.” Talia had begun to see Monette’s fight as hers, too. Derrick felt a swell of protectiveness. Barron would no doubt use the resources of the attorney general’s office. No way would Derrick stand by and do nothing. Still the last thing Talia needed was to worry about him.
“Relax. I’m used to staying out of trouble these days.” Derrick gave her an easy smile.
“I mean it. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Talia poked him in the side with her elbow like she had when they were kids.
Derrick held up one palm out. “I hereby promise not to do anything stupid. Feel better?”
She stared at him hard. “You agreed too fast, which makes me suspicious.”
“You’ve been in that cutthroat political town too long.” Derrick kissed her forehead. “Have a little faith, baby girl.”
Talia squinted at him. “I know you, Derrick Guillory.”
“I’m hurt.” He affected a pained expression. “I’ve always done as I was told.”
“You? Pu-leeze!” Talia said with a glare. “Now I know you’re up to something.”
“No, seriously. I do promise.” He returned her gaze, his smile gone.
“Okay. I’ll be watching you.” Talia pointed a finger at his nose.
“Good. Stay close and keep me out of trouble,” he whispered.
Her stern frown dissolved. She arched to him when he placed both hands on her face. He wasn’t playing fair, but it felt too good t
o stop. Talia’s body, a combination of soft round curves and firm flesh, drove him crazy. Derrick wanted to forget politics and the rest of the world. What he wanted most of all was for Talia to wrap her velvet warmth around him. She pulled away.
“I’m staying a little longer than I thought,” she said.
“Great, I—”
“Not for good,” Talia added quickly.
“I hear you.” Derrick’s hopes soared despite her insistence that she would leave eventually. His head tried to make his heart listen to reason. Emotion won. Longer could turn into forever. Yet he knew their happiness rested on shaky ground.
“When are you going to visit Monette?”
“Thursday. Two days should give me enough time to prepare myself,” Talia said. She grew quiet in his arms.
Derrick thought of Winn Barron and the files he’d read. Something about Monette’s case and Barron’s behavior bothered him. His instincts told him he’d only begun to peel back the layers.
“I’ll be right here for you, baby.”
Talia looked around the living room of Karl’s house, a double-wide trailer in New Roads.
“You’ve got a great home and family, Karl. I’m happy for you,” Talia said. She had to admit she’d been skeptical about his reform.
“Yeah, I’ve been given another chance not to throw my life down a sewer,” he said with a wise nod.
His wife had cooked them a delicious down-home meal of chicken and gravy, rice, field peas, and hot, sweet corn bread. LaTrice had taken their three children to their bedrooms to play so Talia and Karl could talk. Kelly green curtains with ruffles matched the green in the floral print furniture. Sentimental pictures of cute puppies and flowers adorned the walls. LaTrice had decorated every inch of two bookcases with little discount store figurines. The entire house had a crowded, homey look. Not exactly Talia’s taste, but somehow it didn’t seem tacky. Maybe because of the love that filled in what little space was left, she mused.
“LaTrice done all this herself,” he said proudly.
“Nice,” Talia said sincerely. She sank against the sofa. Just then Karl’s youngest, four-year-old Rashida shot into the room and bounced onto Talia’s lap.
“Girl, you better get back in here.” LaTrice scurried down the hall. “I’m sorry, Talia. This girl is faster than lightning.”
Talia enjoyed the feel of Rashida’s plump little body snuggling against her. Talia tickled her round cheek. Her reward was a cascade of little giggles.
“It’s okay, LaTrice.” Talia laughed when Rashida tugged at her face with glee.
“She took a real likin’ to her aunt Talia. That’s my baby girl.” Karl beamed at them.
“Sure did. Even Karl, Jr., said a few words, and that boy is so shy. Good in school though.” LaTrice scooped the child from Talia’s lap. “But you two need to talk. I’m gonna settle these kids down and finish in the kitchen.”
Karl watched her walk out, swinging the child until she squealed with delight. He let out a long breath. “I just started living a few years ago, Talia.”
“You’re a lucky guy.” Talia wondered for the first time about her solitary life and high-powered days.
“So, you’re gonna go see Monette.” Karl crossed one long leg over another.
“Yes.”
Talia stared outside. The glass storm door was closed, but allowed light in. An occasional car zipped past on the blacktop road outside. Karl seemed content to let her gather her thoughts.
“What do you want to know?” Karl said at last. “Bet you got a lot of questions.”
“Not really.” Talia rested her head on the sofa cushion.
“Sure you do. Don’t think you got all the answers about who Monette is, Talia.” Karl clasped his large hands together against his stomach.
“I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. That’s the truth.” Talia picked up a small stuffed bird Rashida had left behind.
“Been a long time,” Karl said in a quiet voice.
“Real long.” Talia turned to her older brother. “Just when I think I got that woman all figured out, she pulls something new.”
“That’s Monette up and down.” Karl wore a faint smile.
“Most of the time it’s an unpleasant surprise, too,” Talia retorted.
“She’s got her way, that’s no lie.” Karl chuckled.
“Remember that time they caught her with phony checks? I went to court with her. She sweet-talked her way into paying restitution.” Talia shook her head with a laugh. “Hollywood actresses can’t match Monette when she’s in her game.”
Karl laughed with her. “Our mama can charm the robes off a judge on her worst day.”
“Why are we laughing? Monette is trouble with a big ‘T.’” Yet she couldn’t stop laughing.
Karl wiped his eyes. His expression serious again, he studied Talia. “Now really, what are you gonna say? Might be a good idea to think about it some.”
“Once we get past the small talk of ‘How are you?’ and ‘I’m fine, and you?,’ the visit might be over,” she replied.
“You ain’t foolin’ nobody but yourself,” Karl tossed back.
“Right.” Talia sighed. Her throat tightened. “I want to know why she couldn’t pull her act together and be our mama.”
“I know,” he said simply.
They sat in silence for a long time. Childish voices floated down the hallway. LaTrice clanged together pots and silverware in the kitchen. Karl got up and turned on the table lamps. He sat back down again.
“She’s coming up for parole. Winn Barron is planning to fight it,” Talia said.
“The attorney general?” Karl scratched his jaw. “I follow the news pretty close these days. He’s from around here I believe.”
“He was the district attorney who got her convicted.” Talia crossed her arms.
“Oh.” Karl pursed his lips for a few seconds. “I was in a group home back then. They took me to the prison to visit her a few times.”
Talia realized there was so much they didn’t know about each other’s lives. For once, though, Talia didn’t feel anger at the thought of Monette’s lifestyle then.
“Even though I was mad as hell at her, I hated seeing her shackled,” Talia said softly. A long-suppressed memory popped back into her head. “The district attorney convinced the court she was an escape risk. They had her in leg irons and a leather waist restraint with handcuffs attached.”
Karl nodded. “I remember one visit, I think it was the last one I went to, she had on this orange prison jumpsuit. I had an attitude. I was mad at her and the world.”
Talia listened as LaTrice called to Karl Jr. to take out the garbage. Outside crickets set up a chorus of chirping. Talia and Karl were quiet, wrapped in thoughts of sad days gone by. Sounds of the present served as a background noise to memories. Karl cleared his throat. When Talia looked at him, his expression was less troubled. He seemed to have pushed the past back again.
“Monette has been a lot of things, but she wasn’t no drug-smugglin’ queen,” Karl said in a firm voice. “What’s this guy got against her?”
“Barron wants to run for governor in the next election. Her parole hearing is next month, and he wants to prove he’s tough on crime.” Talia grimaced at that argument. Somehow it didn’t add up.
“He sent lots of folks to prison that did worse. Murderers for instance.” Karl hit on Talia’s thoughts exactly. “Why Monette and why now? The election is two years off.”
“Derrick said something about him being U.S. Attorney in the meantime. I don’t know.” Talia shrugged. “He’s a politician.”
“Right.” Karl nodded slowly. “They start thinkin’ ahead long before the election. Buildin’ up stuff he can brag on during the campaign.”
“Yeah,” Talia agreed with a sour expression. “Anyway, he’s going to use Monette as an example of why mandatory sentencing is a good thing.”
“It’s great you helpin’ fight that law,” Karl said. “Mama R
ose told me what you’re doin’.”
Talia blushed. “I didn’t volunteer. And I wasn’t thinking of Monette either.”
“You could have said no.” Karl made his simple pronouncement and gazed at her steadily.
“Well, he’s my boss,” Talia stammered, and looked away.
“Uh-huh.” Karl continued to study her. “The point is you’re back home workin’ on somethin’ that’s gonna help Monette. You knew that goin’ in.”
“I came because Mama Rose got sick.” Talia plucked at the throw pillow.
“Uh-huh.”
“Will you stop grunting like that?” Talia slapped at the long black tassel on the pillow, causing it to bounce.
Karl held up one palm. “Okay, okay. So Monette is going up for parole, and this guy is fightin’ it.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t like that.”
“You’d think he’s got better things to do. Like you said, Monette wasn’t some big-time gangster.” Talia looked at her older brother.
“She’s got that Tulane law professor on her side. They got some other people out of prison,” Karl said. “I been readin’ ’bout them.”
“Maybe that will help.” Talia doubted it, given Barron’s influence in the state.
“Kinda like in the Bible, David and Goliath. Don’t seem right.” Karl raised his thick eyebrows.
“I wouldn’t exactly compare Monette to an innocent shepherd boy in the Bible, Karl. I mean she was with those men.”
“Yeah,” Karl rubbed his chin. “Maybe more like the woman surrounded by accusers about to be stoned to death. She’d done wrong but didn’t deserve the punishment.”
Talia smiled at her brother, the old-fashioned church deacon. “Sure, something like that.”
“I’m real happy you’re goin’ to see her. She’s gonna need our support.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” Talia admitted.
“A lot of bad between y’all.” Karl turned in his easy chair to face Talia. “But you got to heal that wound, Talia.”
“What did you talk to her about?” Talia tucked her legs under her.
“It wasn’t easy. First I went off on her. She didn’t say nothin’, just listened. Then ’fore I knew it we was both cryin’.” His voice shook, and he stopped talking for several minutes.