by E. N. Joy
“Stop the press!” Kennedy said, holding up her hand. “Where did Mom go?”
“She didn’t tell us she was going anywhere today, did she?” Joy asked her sisters. “Did Mother tell us she was going anywhere today?” She shook her head. “No, I don’t think Mother told us she was going anywhere today.”
Rachel stopped in her tracks and thought for a minute. “Where did she go? Is that what you asked me?” she stalled.
“Uh, yeah. I do believe that was the question,” Daryn smiled.
“Well, uh, you know…she had plans,” Rachel said, and then quickly made her way to the front door. Her long hair with the perfect bronze dye-job swayed as she walked.
“The girls looked back and forth at one another. “Plans?” they sang.
“Did she say plans? Because I thought she said plans?” Joy questioned.
“She said plans alright,” Kennedy confirmed.
Daryn shook her head. “There’s that word again; plans.”
Rachel fumbled around her keychain for the spare key to the house Sammi had given her. All the while the girls stood behind her giving each other the curious eye as if to say, “Oh, we are so not done with her yet.”
Once Rachel got the door unlocked, she went inside and held it open for the girls to enter. Slowly, but surely, they each made their way inside. Rachel turned and closed the door and locked it behind them. Once she turned back around, the three girls were each standing in front of her with their arms crossed.
All three girls were staring down Rachel. She could tell by the look on their little faces that they were ready to fire off more questions, and she didn’t know what to tell the girls. In an attempt to dodge their bullets, she just smiled and shouted, “Who wants ice-cream?” and then led the way down the foyer and into the kitchen.
“Let’s see,” Rachel said, going straight to the freezer and looking inside of it. “You guys don’t have any ice cream,” she said with disappointment. You’re mom usually always has ice cream.”
“Yeah, well, looks like she forgot to pick some up the last time she was at the grocery store,” Daryn said.
“Mommy’s been forgetting a lot of stuff lately,” Joy added.
“Yeah, like telling us she’d be gone once we got home.” Kennedy did not bite her tongue. She then looked up at Rachel with a raised eyebrow. “How’d you know she would be stepping out?” she asked Rachel. “I didn’t see you on the phone any while we were out. So that must mean that you knew ahead of time that she wasn’t going to be home once we got back.”
Rachel had to think fast. “Uhh, she sent me a text.”
“A text, huh?” Kennedy expressed her disbelief. She expressed it even further by holding out her hand and saying, “Let’s see.”
“Well, uh, what do you mean let you see it?” Rachel panicked and began looking through the freezer again.
“Yes, let’s see that text our mother sent you,” Daryn requested. “And you can probably stop looking through the freezer now. I think we’ve established there’s no ice cream.”
Rachel let out a sigh, slowly closed the freezer, then turned to face the firing squad. “Text, huh?”
“Text,” Kennedy said with a quick fake smile appearing and then quickly disappearing from her face.
“Well, I, uh, can’t show you the text because I, uh, deleted the text. Yes, that’s right. I deleted it already.” Rachel bobbed her head as she smiled, doing everything but singing out, “Nan, nan, nan, nan, nan, nan.”
“Something tells me there was no text to begin with,” Kennedy came right out and said. “Something tells me this entire girl time crap was just a set up.”
Daryn caught the drift that Kennedy was throwing. “Yeah, like this so-called girl time was really just a scheme to get us out of the house while Mom went on a-”
“Jell-O!” Rachel shouted, interrupting Daryn’s accurate observation. She had opened the refrigerator door and was now pulling a bowl of cherry Jell-O with pineapple chunks in it from the refrigerator. “Who needs ice cream when we have Jell-O?” Rachel then did a poor impersonation of Bill Cosby, trying to throw the girls off. She might have sounded just like him had she not had an accent.
When that didn’t work, Rachel decided to put the girls to work. If she could keep them busy with their hands, then maybe that would keep their mouths closed. “Kennedy, you’re the tallest; grab some dessert bowls from up in the cabinet.” She looked at Daryn. “You get us each a spoon.” She then turned to Joy. “And you, short stuff,” she said, pinching Joy’s cheek, almost putting a smile on Joy’s face, “you reach down in the cabinet and grab some place mats and lay them out on the table for us.
Each girl did as she was told while Rachel carried the big bowl of Jell-O over to the table. She pushed aside the centerpiece of artificial sunflowers floating in a brushed stainless steel bowl that matched the kitchen’s stainless steel appliances. She then placed the bowl of Jell-O in the middle of the table.
The silence was short lived. After the girls sat down at the table and said their grace before indulging into their treat, they picked up where they had left off in their line of questioning.
“So, Miss Rachel, did you or didn’t you?” Kennedy asked her, swishing Jell-O in her mouth.
“Huh?” Rachel replied, dumbfounded.
“Did you or didn’t you know that when you came and picked us up to go out this afternoon that our mom would be stepping out herself?” Kennedy swallowed her Jell-O, then stuffed her mouth with yet another spoonful.
Rachel took a deep breath and exhaled. She had wanted to talk to the girls about their mother’s whereabouts, but she wanted to be the one to initiate the conversation. She had had it all planned out; everything she would say. Sammi had gone over her lines with her a thousand times at least, and now she couldn’t remember not a single one of them to save her life.
It was Rachel’s idea for Sammi to allow her to warm the girl’s up a little bit before their mother had the official “talk” with them about all of these sudden “plans” that she’d had in the past three months. Sammi had wanted to just sit the girls down herself and tell them straight out, but Rachel felt their heart’s needed softened first. She reasoned that by doing it this way, the girls could let all, if any, initial hurt or anger that they might feel out on Rachel first. Rachel could then be the voice of reason and perhaps that way the girls would be more accepting and reasonable once they talked with their mother.
In her and Sammi’s twelve years of being best friends, Rachel had always seemed to have the right answer for situations. Rachel had prided herself on such, but now, as Rachel sat in between a rock and a hard place with all three girls staring at her as if she had stolen their lunch money on chicken strips and fries day, she wondered why she had ever made the offer in the first place.
“Listen, girls,” Rachel said as she sat her spoon down in her half eaten bowl of dessert. “Your mom has worked really hard to support the three of you since your father passed.”
“We know,” Daryn said.
“She loves doing it,” Rachel assured them.
“But…” Joy chimed in. Her sisters looked at her confused. “A ‘but’ is coming,” she informed them. “Whenever someone’s voice fades out like that, it means a ‘but’ is coming. I learned that in drama,” she said proudly, tooting her nose in the air.
Kennedy and Daryn looked to Rachel to see if Joy was on point.
“But…” Rachel confirmed, picking her spoon back up and playing around in her JELL-O. These girls were tough-tougher than she imagined they would be.
“See, told ya,” Joy said, then took a bite of Jell-O.
Rachel continued. “She hasn’t had any time to take care of herself.”
“You could have fooled me,” Kennedy said, rolling her eyes. “She’s been taking care of herself just fine with all those new little dresses, and colognes.”
“And scented bubble bath and stuff,” Daryn added.
“And besides, what are
you trying to say?” Joy’s attitude was clear. “That we don’t take good care of our momma?” Joy had an expression on her face similar to Gary Coleman’s when he played the role of Arnold on Different Strokes and would ask his brother, “What you talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”
Rachel put her hands up in defense. “Slow down, chicas. That’s not what I’m trying to say at all.” She shifted in her seat and then dropped her spoon into her bowl. “I mean, your mom hasn’t really had any time to take care of herself here,” Rachel said, pointing to her heart. “You see, your mom has been so busy taking care of and loving everybody else, and that includes me, because a Chiquita is a needy best friend,” she laughed, “that she hasn’t had time to allow anyone to take care of and love her.”
“But we love her,” all three girls said in unison. They each then looked at one another, nodding.
Rachel just looked at them and smiled. The only thing she had ever seen them do in unison was pull each other’s hair out. “Look, Mamis,” she said in her settle accent. “She knows you love her, but I’m not talking about a love that comes from a little girl’s heart. I’m talking about a love that comes from a big person’s heart.”
“You’re a big person,” Joy reminded Rachel. “Don’t you love her?”
Rachel’s saucer, deep brown eyes with long black lashes hovering over them began to moisten. “Oh, and I do,” Rachel told her, placing her hands on her heart with a sincere expression on her face. “But not that kind of love either.” Rachel swallowed then said, “The kind of love that comes from a grown man’s heart.”
“A love like the love Daddy had in his heart for Mommy before he died?” Joy asked in an understanding tone.
“Si. Yes, sweetie,” Rachel said, rubbing Joy’s cheek gently with the backside of her hand. “You girls mean so much to your mother and she loves you back so very mucho. Wouldn’t trade you for the world, trust me; I’ve tried to barter with her for you guys before. ‘Give ‘em to me just one weekend,’ I told her, ‘and I’ll swap you my BMW.”
The girls halfheartedly laughed.
“So, Miss Rachel,” Kennedy cut to the chase, “are you trying to tell us that our mother has met a…” Kennedy could barely get the word out. She took a deep gulp. “A…our mother has met a… a man?” she almost gagged, grabbing at her throat.
“Not just any man,” Rachel said, “but a really nice and kind man.” Rachel examined the girls’ faces in order to try to get a feel of what emotions they were going through. They weren’t overly excited for their mother’s newfound love, that was for sure. “But it’s not going to change the love she has for you girls. Nothing can take away from that.”
“Not even a really nice and kind man?” Joy said, needing confirmation.
“No, not even a really nice, kind and handsome man,” Rachel smiled as she began fanning herself. “Because let me tell you, he’s one hot tamale.” Once Rachel realized the company she was keeping was young girls, she got her hormones back under control.
“Look, Miss Rachel,” Kennedy sighed. “We stay at home by ourselves everyday after school, so I know you weren’t here to just sit with us. Looks like your job is done, so you can go now.”
Rachel sighed. She really did feel for the girls. She wanted them to be happy, but at the same time she wanted the same for her best friend. “You sure, ‘cause I don’t mind staying?” Rachel said.
“We’re sure,” Kennedy announced verbally. “Besides, I think me and my sisters need some girl time just to ourselves.”
“Alright then.” Rachel stood up from the table and placed her bowl into the sink. “Call me if you girls ever need anything.” Rachel gave each girl a kiss on the head and then made her way out of the kitchen, down the foyer, and out of the front door. The girls heard the door close behind her.
There was a full minute of silence before either girl spoke. Then finally, Kennedy broke the silence. “That explains all those plans and why we’ve been eating frozen pizza twice a week for the last three months.”
“It explains everything,” Daryn said before running down a brief list. “The short hellos when she comes in from work, the off-key humming.”
“And forgetting to buy ice-cream!” Joy exclaimed as if that was the most important of their mother’s, what they saw as, shortcomings.
“Well, I know one thing it’s time for this so-called nice and kind man to forget about,” Kennedy proclaimed.
“What?” Daryn asked.
“Our mother!”
Chapter Seven
Soul Mates
Although Sammi had gone out with her new admirer several times, she was still jittery about their date tonight. She stood outside the restaurant while her date sat inside waiting for her. Being the prompt man that he was, she knew he was already inside. He had never been late to any of their dates; always showing up first. In addition to that, she had seen his midnight blue Excursion parked in the parking lot.
Sammi took a deep breath and then nervously began twisting her wedding ring ‘round and ‘round. It was a habit of hers that she did subconsciously whenever she was tense or nervous. It went unnoticed by most, but not by Kennedy, Daryn and Joy. They always knew when their mother was on edge about something because of her tale-tell sign.
Next, Sammi started straightening out the invisible wrinkles that she had thought sitting in the car with her seatbelt on might have created in her dark, navy blue dress. She then fidgeted with the doily like pattern that trimmed the neck and the sleeves of the dress. After letting out a deep breath, Sammi lifted her head up high and strutted into the restaurant.
“Welcome to the Olive Garden,” the hostess said upon Sammi walking through the door.
Sammi loved the atmosphere of the Italian eatery. Although she hadn’t been there in years, she still remembered its romantic ambiance. It just so happened that the Olive Garden was the place where the girls’ father had proposed to her, and the place where they had enjoyed almost every wedding anniversary dinner together thereafter up until his death.
That is where her nervousness had derived. Until tonight, this had been just “their place”; hers and the man she had been married to for almost fifteen years. Now, here she was entertaining another fellow on sacred ground. Sammi almost felt as if she was being disloyal to her deceased husband. So if she felt this way, she could only imagine how her daughters might feel about the situation. Let Rachel tell it, the girls would not be too thrilled. At least that’s what she had determined from their girl time the other day.
At that moment, as she stood in the restaurant, Sammi wished she had just been open and honest with her date when he suggested that they have dinner there. She wished she’d just told him the truth and suggested another location for them to dine at. Maybe she should have even lied and told him that she didn’t like Italian food. But the last thing she wanted to do was to start off a relationship with a lie. A little lie it may have been, but a lie nonetheless. Besides, what Italian didn’t like Italian food whether they were born in Italy or not? And the truth, well Sammi felt that telling her date the truth might have scared him off.
She didn‘t want him to think that she was just some widow holding onto her past. Her intentions were not to have the new man in her life feel as though he had to compete with anyone; and that meant from her past or present. On top of that, she didn’t want the new man in her life to feel as though she was so consumed with thoughts of the girls’ father, that there wouldn’t be any room in her heart to ever love another man. That would be the furthest thing from the truth.
Sammi had plenty of room in her heart. From the moment Bo Hart ran into Sammi, she knew there was something special about him. Run into her is what he did, literally. In the process of not watching where he was going and running into her, he’d smashed his tuna croissant sandwich from downtown Columbus Ohio’s newest eatery against her blouse.
When he’d asked Sammi how he could repay her for the ruined blouse, Rachel had jumped in and suggested he take
her out to dinner. At first, Sammi could have strangled Rachel for putting her on the spot like that. And now, six dates after their first one, not only was she grateful for her best friend setting them up, but she was excited and ready for date number seven.
“How many will be in your party tonight?” the young man standing behind the wooden podium that read Olive Garden said to Sammi.
“Well, actually, I’m meeting someone,” Sammi replied.
“A gentleman? Mr. Hart?” a girl wearing her work attire walked up and asked Sammi.
“Yes,” Sammi replied.
“I’ve seated Mr. Hart already. He told me he was waiting on his girlfriend,” the girl relayed. “You can follow me.”
Girlfriend? Sammi thought as she followed the hostess. She wasn’t really sure how many times a girl had to go out with a guy before she became his girlfriend. She had to admit, though, she liked the sound of it. And if she were going to be anybody’s girlfriend, she’d want it to be Bo’s.
The girl led Sammi through the restaurant until they came upon a nice little table for two, which is where Bo was seated, waiting on his lovely date.
“Good evening, darling,” Bo said, standing to go pull out Sammi’s chair. “You look lovely.” He kissed her on the cheek as she sat down.
“Thank you,” Sammi blushed. “You’re looking quite charming as well.” Sammi admired Bo’s dark, creamy skin that looked as though he had never had to fight off a pimple a day in his life.
“I ordered you a Shirley Temple,” Bo told her as he returned to his seat.
For a moment there, Sammi froze up. Whenever she and her late husband would dine out, for some reason she’d always go to the bathroom before getting comfortably seated. And that always seemed to be when the waiter would come to take their drink orders. When she’d return, her husband would inform her that he had ordered her a Shirley Temple, which was her favorite drink when dining out.
“What’s wrong?” Bo inquired, noticing the chilled look on Sammi’s face. “Did you want something different?”
“Oh, no, a Shirley Temple is fine,” Sammi assured him.
