I put my head in my hands, glad I hadn’t eaten more. I felt queasy thinking about Mama flirting to get money. I was glad Mama didn’t want any part of it but thinking about it still made me nauseous. Sometimes, like now, I wished I’d never started listening in on her conversations with Aunt Maureen.
I picked up JJ’s Styrofoam container and put it back where it was. Mama would just think he left it there and she’d probably feel bad that she hadn’t put him to bed, which would serve her right. Then I went upstairs to tuck him in.
“Are you sure?” I heard JJ ask Caleb. I leaned against the doorway of his room. JJ was in his bed, covered up, and Caleb was fully clothed, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“Yes, the animals wander loose everywhere. If you go to the beach, you’ll see pigs and goats eating garbage that’s strewn about.”
“On a beach?”
“Yes.”
“But that would be awesome! It would be fun to see all those animals on a beach instead of locked up.”
“There are problems with that, though,” Caleb said. “Would you really want your yard filled with wild dogs and pigs and goats?”
JJ’s face scrunched up, deep in thought. “No…”
“It’s a bigger problem keeping them out of your hut. Goats have sticks suspended from their necks so they can’t get through open doorways.”
“Sticks? That’s weird. How?”
Caleb picked up JJ’s picture and drew on it. “Like this,” he said. “And it works.”
“How do Haitians know who the goats and pigs belong to if they wander around like that?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. “Caleb?” I said. “Can I see you for a minute?”
He stepped out into the hall. “Yes?”
“Look, I know JJ likes your stories. If you’ve read up on Haiti and you want to tell him about it, that’s okay. But just don’t lie to him about your mom and dad being missionaries there, okay?”
He looked at me, then said, “I won’t lie.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Just be careful with my little brother.”
8
The next night wasn’t nearly as bad. No one expected Mama to be there so JJ didn’t whine when she wasn’t. He and Caleb went to JJ’s room to do their homework and I did my homework in mine. I have to admit, it was kind of nice. I closed my door and turned my radio full blast, letting the beat of the songs bounce off the room’s walls. Mama would never have allowed that if she’d been home. I swear, my homework had never gotten done so fast or so well. In my opinion, Mama could use a lesson in what it’s like to be a kid.
Around four-thirty my stomach growled, so I went downstairs to get a glass of milk since it was too early to warm the shrimp and meatloaf dinners. Except when I opened the refrigerator, the Styrofoam containers of food were gone. I forgot all about the milk. Instead I stomped up the stairs yelling, “Caleb! Get down here right now!” knowing full well I sounded just like Mama at her worst, but I was so mad I couldn’t help it.
JJ ran out into the hall and slammed on his brakes when he saw me. Caleb’s head poked around the door.
“Caleb, no one asked you to warm up the food for dinner. That’s my job.”
“I haven’t even been in the kitchen,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“Then where’s the food?” My eyes narrowed into slits. “Don’t tell me you ate it.”
“I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”
I turned to my brother. “JJ? Did you eat the shrimp and meatloaf?”
“Stop being mad about everything, Ivy! Caleb and I didn’t eat it. The hungry Haitians did! What’s the big deal, anyway? Mama’ll just bring more tonight. She said she would.”
I turned on Caleb. “Do you see what your stories do, Caleb?” I said. “They make him lie, too.”
Then I looked at JJ. “The big deal is I don’t want to wait until almost bedtime to eat. I’m hungry now. And Mama told us to eat last night’s food tonight.”
“She did?” JJ looked confused. “I thought it was just leftover stuff.”
“So you did eat it, didn’t you?”
“NO!” he yelled. “I told you. It was the hungry Haitians!”
I spun on my heels.
“Where are you going?” he called after me.
“To get something to eat. I can’t tell which one of you is lying but I know I haven’t eaten tonight! And you!” I pointed to Caleb. “Watch my brother or I’ll cut off your head when I get back.”
I ran down the stairs, threw open the front door, and ran smack into Pastor Harold. He staggered. I spun around. My arms and legs both pinwheeled as I fell backward. His arms reached out and grabbed me just before I fell.
My heart thudded a hundred beats a second. It felt like that, anyway.
“Whoa!” Pastor Harold said. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Then I realized he still had hold of my arms. I stepped away.
“I’m very sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you coming through the door.”
“It’s okay.” I shrugged.
“Leave it to me to be party to a major collision the first time I visit your house!” he said. “My mother always said I was so clumsy that, had I been a girl, Grace would have never been my name. Actually, I came to see your mother.”
“She’s not here. She works now. On Sunday at church, some lady … I can’t remember her name … but she gave Mama a job.” It was all out of my mouth before I remembered that you never tell anyone your mom isn’t home. You always lie and act like she’s unavailable. Mama had drilled that into my head since I was old enough to talk, but Pastor Harold had just saved me from falling and that kind of earned him the right to the truth. At least that’s what I told myself.
“Oh! From Dining Divinely? What is her name…”
“She goes to your church and you don’t know?”
“Um, I could counter that your mother works for her and you don’t know.” I started to puff up but saw his eyes crinkle in the corners.
“She just signs my mama’s paycheck,” I said. “I’m not responsible for saving her soul.”
He laughed hard. Then sobered quickly. “Magdalene. Is that it?”
Then it dawned on me. “Magdalena! You were close.”
“Actually I haven’t been at Hickory Presbyterian much longer than you’ve been going. I’m the interim pastor.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“That I’m here until they find someone to replace me and then I move to another church that’s recently lost their pastor.”
“They can do that?” I said. “Move you around like that?”
“They can. They have, actually. It’s what I do.”
I’ll admit I sort of forgot about Mama and the food because this was interesting. “So one day they’ll bring in a new pastor and you’re just out of luck?”
“Yes.” He leaned closer and said in a loud whisper, “Or they might just forget to look. Some of them are pretty old and forget where they park their cars Sunday morning.”
I smiled. Okay, maybe he wasn’t so bad.
“About your mother, I knew she and Magdalena were talking Sunday after service but I didn’t know it was about a job. That’s wonderful. And I assume your mother is there now?”
“Um, yeah.” Suddenly I wished I hadn’t been so open, him saving me from falling or not. Because, think about it, I wouldn’t have fallen if he hadn’t been standing in my way. He even admitted it was his fault. And if the Hickory Presbyterian Church wasn’t sure enough about him to keep him, why should I be?
“Well, I have to go.” I inched my way back toward the house.
“But weren’t you on your way out?”
“What? Oh, yeah.” I reached for the knob behind me. “But I changed my mind.”
I yanked open the door and slipped in quickly. “Good seein’ ya!” I called as I closed the door and locked it.
I peeked through the window curtain. He had a confused look o
n his face. It was a round face that was easy to read because its normal state was kind of blank. Not blank as in stupid, just no outstanding features, as Mama would have said. He looked kind of young, at least not old, but wore his hair real short so he almost looked bald. You couldn’t even really make out what color it was from the stubble. If you wanted a definition for the word “average” you could just point to Pastor Harold and no other words were needed. He did have kind eyes, though. I mean, when you talked to him, you really felt like he was listening and, I guess, that was nice.
Finally he got into his small silver car and pulled away. I took a deep breath, then opened the front door again. I headed to Dining Divinely to see if Mama could send tonight’s supper home early with me.
I took a shortcut to town, down the alley two blocks and then another six blocks on a side street. I came out on Main Street and what did I see but Pastor Harold parallel parking right in front of me. He hopped out of his car and said, “Ivy? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could have given you a ride.”
“I don’t ride with strangers,” I said, Mama’s training finally kicking in. But I felt kind of bad about it because he really did seem pretty friendly. Especially when he said, “I understand. That’s wise of you. There’s no way to tell a mean stranger from a friendly one. Although, I’m not exactly a stranger, right?”
He held the door to the restaurant open for me.
I walked by him and said, “No stranger than most, I guess.”
He threw back his head and laughed. I felt a kind of smile creep across my face. I didn’t really want it to because I was trying to act all confident and grown up but my mouth had a mind of its own.
I hadn’t been inside the restaurant since Magdalena had taken over Ed’s Grill. Back then it had booths that felt sort of sticky and the smell of grease hung heavy in the air. Now there were fake pink flowers on every table and place mats with silverware wrapped in a paper napkin and tied with a bow. She’d hung heavy maroon curtains pulled back at the windows. It was kind of fancy compared to what it had been when it was Ed’s Grill.
Mama had poured coffee into some cups at a table and was on her way back to the counter when she saw me.
“Ivy!” At first she smiled, but then she said in her worried mama’s voice, “What’s wrong?”
It wasn’t until then that I remembered Ellen’s mother’s rule—that it had better be a full-blown emergency before bothering her at work—and I wondered if I would get into trouble. But then, maybe being hungry with no supper qualified as an emergency. I had to go with that because it’s all I had.
Mama pulled out a chair and said, “Where’s JJ? Sit down here. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Okay.” My voice squeaked a bit. I squared my shoulders because this was no time to show fear. “Well, it’s like this, Mama. I left Caleb watching JJ because I’m really hungry and when I went to warm up the dinners you brought last night, they were gone.”
“Gone?” Mama’s eyes turned into slits. “What do you mean gone?”
I noticed Pastor Harold slide onto a counter stool, well away from us.
“I mean the containers you brought home aren’t there now.”
“The boys ate them?”
“That’s my guess but they say no.”
Mama took a deep breath and looked around. “That’s just perfect. I’ll have to ask Magdalena for more food and she’s not here right now. The lunch specials were pretty much eaten up today and we haven’t had the dinner rush yet.”
“Well, it’s not my fault, Mama.”
“Did I say it was, Ivy? But it’s not my fault, either, now, is it? And I only get to bring home leftovers from lunch.”
Mama stood up and that’s when she saw Pastor Harold sitting at the counter. She smoothed her apron over her black pants and white top and smiled a real smile, not just what you’d expect from your waitress.
“Why, hello, Pastor Harold! I didn’t see you come in. Can I get you some coffee?”
Then she moved closer to him and I couldn’t hear a word they said. She was all cheerful, though, pulling the cup off the shelf and filling it, tilting her head to one side and grinning like he was the most important person on earth. I bet she got lots of tips if that’s how she treated everyone. It made me wish I had money to pay for my food. Maybe I’d see that side of her once in a while instead of her grumpy one.
I pulled the plastic menu out from behind the napkin dispenser and gave it a good look as I waited. It had paper-clipped index cards announcing the daily special, “Creamed Seasoned Ground Pork à la Biscuit,” which was the Trucker’s Sausage Biscuit Delight any way you looked at it. The cards were written in slanted, spiky handwriting with little curlicues at the corners. Magdalena’s handwriting, I’ll bet. Despite Magdalena’s touches, I’d guess the food here was just as greasy whether it was called Dining Divinely or Ed’s Grill. But I didn’t care. I just wanted something to eat.
After Mama brought Pastor Harold a salad I tried to get her attention, but she held up one finger to me, her sign that I was to hush and be patient.
I tore open two sweetener packets that were in a dish by the napkins. I made a little mound of sweetener from the pink packet and one from the yellow. I tried a taste test, which left me positively gagging, wondering how anyone could drink anything flavored with either. Then I tilted my head back and laid the empty yellow packet over my left eye and the pink over my right as an experiment in color and sight. I still don’t know which you could see through better because finally Mama came over and ripped them off my eyes.
“Ivy, for goodness’ sake, act your age!”
“I’m trying, Mama. But I’ve been here for hours!”
“Stop being melodramatic. You’ve been here twenty minutes. I have customers here and I have to wait until Magdalena comes back to give you your food. Now sit up straight and behave.”
I looked around, hoping no one had seen us, but no such luck. Pastor Harold was staring at me. Next thing I knew, he picked up his salad and cup and brought them over.
“Since we’re both dining alone, mind if I join you?”
“Well, I’m not exactly what you’d call dining,” I said.
He sat down, anyway. “Maybe we ought to fix that.” He pushed his salad toward me. “I’m a meat and potatoes guy, myself, but a salad always comes with the meal here.”
“Rabbit food doesn’t appeal to me.”
He laughed. “As I said, I don’t care for it, either, but I don’t want to hurt your mother’s feelings by sending it back. Think of it as helping me out by eating it.”
The salad had bits of boiled egg and some bacon. My stomach started talking on its own.
“Well, I suppose. If it helps you out and all…”
I picked up the fork and shoved lettuce into my mouth.
I looked up and Mama’s eyes were huge. She came barging down toward me but Pastor Harold must have seen her coming. If it had been football, you could say he intercepted the ball and headed down the field.
“I should come clean and tell you the real reason I’m here,” he said.
Mama’s hand went to her throat. Touchdown.
“I’m here on a mission from the Hickory Women’s Presbyterian Guild. Truthfully, they’re a force to be reckoned with. I’m actually afraid of them.” He chuckled.
Well, it was plain he wasn’t really afraid of them but I knew what he meant. Didn’t I mention earlier how forceful they could be?
Mama wasn’t playing along, though. She pulled herself up to her full five foot six inches and said, “If it’s about Caleb, I don’t know what you’ve heard but I take good care of that boy.”
She was practically quivering and Pastor Harold’s nice smile morphed into a look of panic.
“Oh, no! Nothing’s been said. Nothing like that at all.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Let me start over. This Saturday they will be cooking chickens and making noodles from scratch for the Chicken and Noodle Luncheon on Sunday
. It’s their big fund-raiser and they’ve asked if you’d help. They said to tell you they start at nine in the morning but you’ll be out of there by noon. If you want to help, that is. And I’d be happy to come by and get you.” He coughed. “You know, to introduce you to the people you don’t know and all.”
Mama lowered her hand from her throat. “Oh! I see.” Her cheeks got a little pink. She pulled out a cloth from her apron pocket and wiped the table. When she finished, her coloring was back to normal. “Actually, let me get back to you on that. I’m the only waitress here right now and I’m a little busy.” And, like she’d been shot out of a cannon, she was gone.
Pastor Harold exhaled and slumped in his chair. I continued stuffing my face. I felt sorry for him, though. He wasn’t the first person to get a taste of Cass Henry’s indignation. I, myself, experienced it on a daily basis.
“It’s just her way,” I said between mouthfuls.
“Pardon me?”
“Mama.” I wiped my mouth on a napkin. “It had nothing to do with you. When she feels like she’s being judged, it gets her back up. That’s all.”
“Oh.” He looked relieved. “I meant no harm. Truth is, those women in the Guild are relentless. I can guarantee the first thing they’ll ask when one of them sees me is ‘Did you talk to Cass Henry about helping out?’”
“They like helping others but they expect something in return,” I said.
“Yes! That’s it exactly,” he said.
And because I knew that Mama had really gotten help from the people at church, she’d probably come around and work the luncheon. Besides, I felt sorry for Pastor Harold so I said, “She’ll help. Wait and see.”
Then Mama brought over his dinner.
“Thank you!” he said. Maybe a little enthusiastically, but, as I said, I’ve been where he is now so I understand the power of overcompensating.
Mama set the plate down and refilled his cup with steaming coffee.
“Ivy, Magdalena’s in the kitchen now. Come with me. And, Pastor Harold?”
Ivy in the Shadows Page 6
