More Than Words, Volume 6

by Joan Johnston

  Kendra stared across the table at the man she hadn’t known as well as she thought she had. Nathaniel had spent hours designing homes with price tags that started at seven figures. He’d never given her any indication that he preferred planning to designing.

  “It looks as if we both have our projects,” she teased.

  “And both are in the same South Side neighborhood.”

  Realization dawned. “Your gentrification program is in Alderman Stephens’s ward.”

  Nathaniel reached over and placed a hand over Kendra’s. “Yes.” He ran his thumb back and forth over her smooth knuckles. “This project is very important to me. If it’s successful, it will become the model for other neighborhoods.”

  “You’ll win, Nathaniel, because you don’t know how to lose.”

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Look who’s talking. You’ve never cut me any slack whether we were playing tennis or bowling. You’re the most single-minded woman I’ve ever known.”

  Kendra flashed a sensual moue. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  “No, darling. It happens to be a very good thing.”

  She sobered quickly. “You’re going to have to stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You can’t keep calling me darling, Nathaniel.”

  “Why not, darling?”

  “Because…because we’re not together.”

  Nathaniel leaned closer. “What we’re not is engaged or married. And right now, not being married isn’t as important as knowing we can sit down and be civil to each other.” Threading his fingers through Kendra’s, Nathaniel gazed at their clasped hands. They were still holding hands when the waiter approached the table with their appetizer.

  OVER DINNER, KENDRA AND Nathaniel talked about mutual friends, each one catching the other up on what was happening in their lives. Kendra, who didn’t have much time to visit because she was working at Pearl’s and tutoring two nights a week, chatted with her friends by telephone.

  “Guess which one of my cousins got married,” Nathaniel said.

  “Male or female?”

  “Male.”

  Kendra pursed her lips. “Joseph.”

  “Wrong.”

  “Is he still dating that girl? Isn’t her name Kiara?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No. Unfortunately they broke up. Guess again.”

  Kendra narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me it was Diego.”

  “Bingo!”

  Her jaw dropped. “Who would marry him? He was always so brooding.”

  “Well, he’s not brooding anymore. He’s now the proud poppa of a three-month-old baby boy. He and his wife, Vivienne, named him Samuel after our great-grandfather Samuel Cole. What’s so uncanny is that he’s the spitting image of Diego, who looks enough like our great-granddad to have been his clone.”

  “When you speak to Diego, please send him my best wishes on becoming a father.” When Kendra had been introduced to Nathaniel’s family for the first time she’d been overwhelmed by the number of siblings and cousins he had. If there wasn’t a wedding every year, then there were new births.

  “Why don’t you call and tell him yourself? I’m certain he would love to hear from you.”

  “I’ll send something to his office for the baby.” She hadn’t been in contact with any of the Coles since leaving Florida.

  The server returned to the table, asking if they wanted dessert and coffee; they refused both and Nathaniel settled the bill, leaving a generous tip. The return drive was completed in twice the time, only the sound of the radio breaking the comfortable silence.

  Nathaniel parked on the street in front of Pearl’s Kitchen and escorted Kendra around the side of the three-story building. He took the keys from her loose grip and opened the door, then dropped them into her outstretched palm.

  “Can we do it again?”

  Tilting her head, Kendra met his resolute gaze. “Call me.” Her reply was noncommittal—she didn’t want to give Nathaniel the false hope that they could recapture the past.

  He smiled. “I will.”

  She returned his smile. “Thank you.” Turning on her heels, she walked inside, closed and locked the door. She climbed the staircase to the third floor and entered her apartment. The soft glow from a Tiffany-style floor lamp bathed the living/dining room in gold. Making her way to her bedroom, Kendra sat on the side of the bed, kicked off her shoes and fell back on the mattress.

  Smiling, she closed her eyes. Other than her brother, Nathaniel was the only one she’d told about her idea to set up a foundation to donate refurbished computers to under-resourced students, and he’d given her a thumbs-up. If she’d been willing to accept his assistance, then raising money would not be an issue. But she wouldn’t take a monetary donation from Nathaniel unless it was an in-kind contribution. But before he could do that, she needed to have an organization for him to contribute to.

  Kendra opened her eyes and sat up. She had to research similar programs on the Internet before bringing her proposal to Reverend Blake and the church board. Pushing off the bed, she went into the bathroom to remove her makeup.

  Twenty minutes later, dressed in a pair of sweats and a tank top, Kendra sat at the dining table, scrolling through the page for Sky’s the Limit Youth Organization, a registered nonprofit, nongovernment charitable organization in Ontario, Canada.

  “Yes!” she whispered, grinning. Sky’s the Limit had also set up a resource center and education portal for those lacking computer knowledge. In addition, they’d founded a national charity providing start-up mentoring, financing and business resources for young Canadians to create their own successful businesses.

  Ideas tumbled over themselves in her mind as Kendra thought of limitless opportunities that students could avail themselves of at GCC Outreach. Grabbing a pencil, she wrote down the name and telephone number of the founder and CEO, making a mental note to call Lara Tavares.

  Unknowingly Shirah Hyman’s lack of a computer had put into motion a project with immeasurable benefits for other students in a similar position. Kendra had promised the single mother that she would do whatever she had to do to get her a computer, and she would. But she wouldn’t stop with Shirah.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The ringing of the telephone snagged Kendra’s attention. Smiling, she answered the call when she saw the name and number on the display.

  “Kendra Reeves.”

  “Hello, Kendra. Lara Tavares returning your call.”

  “Thank you, Lara, for getting back to me.”

  “My assistant said you were interested in setting up an organization in the States similar to Sky’s the Limit.”

  Kendra told the President and CEO of the charity about her pledge to tutor a high school dropout and the subsequent conversation with her brother. “Where did your interest in computers start—what’s your degree in?”

  “That’s the easiest question I’ve had to answer all day,” Lara teased. “My degree is in design art, but I’ve been involved with computers since I was young. My dad worked for an electronics equipment company, and he used to take me on tours of the plant so that I would become familiar with computers.”

  Kendra scrunched up her face. “That’s where you have me at a distinct disadvantage—my knowledge is somewhat limited when it comes to computers. I can turn one on, access the Internet and put together a PowerPoint presentation, but that’s about it.”

  “That’s not a problem, if you have computer-savvy volunteers.”

  “What made you start up Sky’s the Limit?”

  “I started up STL in early 2004 after I realized the wide gap there was between children who had access to computers and those who didn’t. Students today need the Internet to do research and homework assignments. So I focused on addressing that ‘digital divide,’ and thankfully we’ve been able to make an impact by purchasing refurbished computers for young people whose parents wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford them. But I’ll warn you, setting up an organ
ization like Sky’s the Limit takes a lot of patience, determination, passion and countless hours of volunteering.”

  “I have those—sometimes too much of those,” Kendra admitted.

  “What about donors and supporters, Kendra?”

  “I have a couple on my short list.” Her brother and Nathaniel were the two names.

  “Be prepared to spend most of your time fundraising,” Lara continued. “We find hosting events honoring a recipient or given in someone’s memory to be successful. But of course we also accept credit card and in-kind donations.”

  Kendra’s mind was working overtime. She figured she would rely initially on corporate and individual sponsorship and not add extra pressure by trying to get government funding. “What about training?”

  “We make certain every recipient receives computer education, mentoring and tutoring.”

  Kendra spent the next forty minutes talking with Lara. Before Kendra had spoken with the other woman, she hadn’t fully grasped the difference a computer made in influencing career opportunities. But Lara had also brought home another reality: cost. Refurbishing a secondhand computer averaged about two hundred dollars, and Kendra realized she would have to put together a budget for her program.

  Still, she was excited as she studied the notes she’d jotted down on a legal pad. She knew she was facing a momentous undertaking, but she was committed to seeing it through.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Lara. Your passion has inspired me to ensure I make this dream a reality.”

  Lara’s soft laugh came through the earpiece. “Good for you. Call me anytime if you need clarification on something.”

  “Thank you again. I’ll be certain to keep you updated.” Kendra rang off.

  After her call from Lara, she called Reverend Blake, asking if he, his board and the director of outreach would meet with her at Pearl’s Kitchen the following evening. She told him of her proposal, and he said he would make certain the board members attended. Leaving her cell phone on the bedside table to recharge, she returned to the restaurant to serve lunch customers.

  Nathaniel was seated at the counter when she walked in. Over the past week he’d begun coming to Pearl’s for either breakfast or lunch, but her heart still stopped every time she first saw him.

  Reaching for an apron from a stack under the counter, she slipped it over her head and tied it around her waist. She gave Nathaniel a menu and a warm smile. He was casually dressed in a white golf shirt with a designer logo over the left breast, jeans and a pair of Doc Martens. A Florida Marlins baseball cap covered his head.

  “Miss Kendra, can I get some more coffee down here?” asked a man at the other end of the counter, and she realized belatedly how busy the restaurant was—although lunch crowds equaled those for breakfast, so it didn’t surprise her.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told Nathaniel.

  Walking over to the coffee machine, she picked up a mug, filled it with steaming black coffee and set it down in front of a ruddy-faced man who worked at a nearby recycling plant. Many of their customers—mostly men—worked in the surrounding area. But Pearl’s was a favorite for the entire neighborhood because they served freshly prepared meals and generous portions at reasonable prices.

  She returned to Nathaniel. “What can I get for you, Mr. Mitchell?” His head popped up, his dark gaze lingering on her face. “Nathaniel?”

  Nathaniel blinked as if coming out of a trance. “What are the day’s specials?”

  “They’re on the chalkboard behind me.”

  “Will you read them to me, Miss Kendra?”

  It took a full minute before Kendra realized he was teasing. Resting her elbows on the table, she leaned forward. “We have stuffed pork chops, pot roast, roast turkey breast and braised oxtail.”

  Nathaniel bent over the counter until their faces were only inches apart. “I’ll have the oxtail with a side order of black-eyed peas and sweet potatoes.”

  “Would you like some corn bread?”

  “But of course, Miss Kendra.”

  Straightening, Kendra went into the kitchen to prepare Nathaniel’s order. Seeing him made her think of his donation and the conversation she’d just had. Everything was falling into place. Lara had given her a lot of the information she would need to set up a not-for-profit charitable computer exchange program, and Kendra had gotten Reverend Blake to agree to a meeting. But she still had to draft a budget and convince the church board of the project’s importance and viability.

  Pearl came out of the walk-in refrigerator with a freezer bag of whole chickens. “I was talking to your grandpa this morning about selling Pearl’s.”

  Kendra’s hand halted spooning peas into a small dish. “Do you have buyers already lined up?”

  “Moses said Precious Turner and her sister are interested.”

  She exhaled audibly. The Turner sisters, Pearl and Precious, always coordinated church suppers and picnics. Their Southern fried chicken, baked ham and homemade ice cream was legendary throughout South Side.

  “They are fabulous cooks, Grandma.”

  Pearl nodded. “I know that. And they don’t have to change the name—that is, unless Precious decides she wants her name out front, too.”

  “What are you going to do if you’re not running the restaurant anymore?”

  “Sit down and rest myself for a month. Then that husband of mine and I are going to do some traveling. We’re going first class all the way.”

  “You deserve it, Grandma.”

  Pearl opened the bag and emptied the chickens into a stainless steel sink. “If Moses and I sell the restaurant, we’re also going to sell this building. That means we’re all going to have to find a place to live.”

  “There are several gated retirement communities you can look into, Grandma.”

  “I know. What about you, Kendra? Where would you go?”

  When Kendra had moved into the apartment, she’d known it was temporary. Only, now there might be a deadline on deciding her future. “I don’t know. Fortunately, money’s not a problem. Nathaniel gave me a very generous divorce settlement.”

  Wherever she moved, she didn’t want to live too far from the neighborhood where her grandparents had raised her father, established a business and where she was now involved in tutoring. There were a number of foreclosed properties and houses that had For Sale signs and needed work. Many of the homes had fallen into disrepair even before the country’s economic downturn. She could purchase one of them and hire a contractor to renovate it.

  “Why don’t you buy one of those new condos going up overlooking the lake?” Pearl suggested.

  “I’ll think about it,” Kendra said as she picked up a serving spoon and ladled a generous serving of oxtail onto a plate, then filled another smaller dish with sweet potatoes.

  “What’s there to think about? You have the money.”

  “I don’t want to have to drive miles to tutor. Maybe I’ll look for something around here or close by.”

  Pearl gave her granddaughter a long, penetrating stare. “After living in a mansion overlooking the ocean I didn’t think you’d want to stay in this neighborhood permanently. Most young folks move out when they get the chance. Those who don’t leave, can’t. Your grandpa had to call the ward superintendent five times to fix the streetlight out front, and forget about the potholes. There was a hole in the middle of Clement so wide and deep that folks had to put those orange plastic cones around it to keep cars from falling in. No, grandbaby-girl, don’t throw away your money buying property here.”

  Lifting the dishes and supporting them along the length of her arm, Kendra smiled and nodded to Pearl. Using her hip, she pushed open the swinging door and walked out of the kitchen. She couldn’t tell her grandmother about Nathaniel’s involvement in a revitalization project that was certain to improve the quality of life for the longtime residents of the close-knit, working-class community. Nathaniel had confided that the mayor planned to make the details public at a press c
onference before the end of the summer.

  “Here you are,” she said, smiling at Nathaniel. Waiting until he folded and put away the business section of the Chicago Sun-Times, she set his order in front of him.

  Nathaniel pressed his palms together. “Everything looks and smells so good.”

  “Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”

  “What’s Grandma’s special?” Although he and Kendra were no longer married, he still called Pearl and Moses Grandma and Grandpa. Some habits were hard to break.

  “Lemon coconut layer cake.”

  “Put aside a slice for me.”

  “Sure.” She hesitated a moment. “Nathaniel, I…I need your help.” She didn’t want to ask her ex-husband for assistance, but her program could really use his business acumen.

  Nathaniel picked up a napkin and spread it over his lap. “What do you need?”

  “I have to put together a budget projection for my project. I have a meeting with the church board tomorrow night, and I’d like to present it then, but I’ve never done a budget before.”

  “I’m free this afternoon and evening if you want me to walk you through it.”

  Kendra chewed her lip. “I’m tutoring tonight at the GCC Outreach.”

  “What time do you get off?”

  “Nine.”

  “I’ll pick you up there and we can work at my suite. Pack an overnight bag. It’ll probably go late.”

  A maelstrom of emotions attacked her so quickly Kendra felt as if the blood had rushed from her lower body to pool in her head. She held the edge of the counter to steady herself. She knew she still had feelings for her ex-husband, but she wasn’t about to crawl into bed with him.