Heart of Gold

by Beverly Jenkins

  Bernadine met her sister’s superior stare and responded nonchalantly, “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  She gave Diane an eye roll. “Yeah, right.”

  “I could, you know.”

  “What are you, twelve?” Bernadine asked, mildly irritated. “This isn’t junior high. You need to start living in the real world for a change.”

  “You’re the one not living in the real world. If I wanted him, there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”

  Time to draw another line in the sand. “How about I call him over, so you can run that by him and see what he says?”

  Panic flashed on Diane’s face, but was quickly replaced by composure. “I’ve no problem with that.”

  “You sure?” For all the bravado, her sister now looked real uncomfortable.

  “Yes.”

  Bernadine waved him over.

  “What can I do for you, doll?”

  “Di wants to run something by you.”

  He waited.

  When Diane seemed more interested in the french fries on her plate than stepping up, Bernadine asked encouragingly, “Well?”

  The silence lengthened. Mal glanced between them. “Is this a test to see if I can read minds, because I have stuff I need to be doing.”

  Still nothing from her sister, so Bernadine said to him, “Go on, babe. I’ll call you later.”

  A confused Mal shook his head and departed.

  Diane stared unseeingly out the window flanking the booth.

  Having too much class to gloat, Bernadine went back to her salad.

  On the drive home, Bernadine told Diane about Reggie’s job opening. “He’ll be back on Saturday, so unless you’re leaving town before then—”

  “Why did you do that?” Diane asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Call Mal over?”

  “Because you asked me to. Why would you even challenge me on something so stupid?” In a singsong voice she mimicked, “ ‘I can take your boyfriend.’ Who does that? We’re grown women now. You don’t get to hurt me and laugh about it anymore. Sorry.”

  “Well, I can certainly do better than the owner of a countrified diner in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Then why are you here? This is the reality. You’re an over-fifty divorced woman with no means of support. End of story. I’ve been willing to help you, but apparently you still think you’re in your Queen Bee days.”

  “I was a Queen Bee.”

  “And now—you’re not. Grow up, Di. I’m not Mama. My job is not to hand you rose-colored glasses to see through.”

  “You’re just jealous because I was her favorite.”

  “True, I wanted her love more than anything in this world, but where was her favorite when she was dying? Every day she asked, ‘Is Di coming today?’ And every day I lied to her and said, ‘Yes, Mama. Di’s coming.’ ”

  “You know I never liked being around sickness.”

  “She was our mother, you silly witch! How dare you deny her the only thing she wanted before God took her home! You couldn’t take a day away from doing nothing to visit?”

  “I was busy.”

  “Right.” Bernadine pulled up to the curb in front of the house. “Go on inside. I need to get back to work.”

  Looking wounded, Diane exited the truck and stomped up the steps to the door.

  Bernadine had steam pouring from her ears as she drove away. She wanted to grab her sister by the throat and shake her until she got a clue. Hot tears filled her eyes. After the ravages of diabetes left their mother, Ernestine, blind, crippled, and unable to care for herself, Bernadine had taken her into her California home. She’d footed the medical bills and paid for the aides who came each day to assist Bernadine with bathing and feeding. Throughout it all, Di had been the one she’d asked for. As a grown woman, she knew she should put the issue behind her and move on, but she’d wanted the recognition and love of her mother so badly that the resonating pain continued to hold her in its thrall. Diane’s visit was ripping the scabs off old wounds that had always been in the back of her mind but lay hidden beneath the accomplishments and duties of daily life.

  That Diane failed their mother when she was at her lowest was one of the few things Bernadine and now ex-husband Leo were agreed upon. He too saw Diane as a selfish conniving bitch and that her claims of being too busy to visit were nothing but crap. First she claimed she didn’t have the money to fly to California, but when offered a first class ticket, another excuse took its place. Then it became a matter of her children’s needs, and then Harmon’s dental practice. The only excuse she hadn’t cited was having to wash her hair, which may as well have been invoked for all the water the many excuses held. When Ernestine passed on, Bernadine honored the request that she be buried at Woodlawn in Detroit, next to their father, Emery, and of course Diane showed up for the funeral. Decked out in black, her show of grief could’ve won her an Oscar—had anyone believed it. From throwing herself over the casket to keening as if her heart was broken, she hit all the notes. Bernadine remembered Leo leaning over and whispering in her ear, “Can we find someone to shoot her and put her out of her misery?” He was from the state of Bullshit, and he readily recognized a fellow citizen.

  Bernadine pulled into the lot of the Power Plant, wiped away her tears, and asked herself again why she was offering her baby sister a hand.

  The answer remained the same. She was blood.

  After school, Zoey toyed with the idea of riding out to check on Mr. Patterson, but with her mom waiting to discuss the business with the weights, she figured she’d better go home.

  As she entered the kitchen, her mom met her with a smile. “How’d your day go?”

  “Okay. You want to talk about the weights now?”

  “I do, but you can put your backpack and stuff in your room, and we’ll talk when you get back. Did Mr. James give you homework?”

  “Always.”

  “Okay.”

  Zoey trudged up to her room. Her mom didn’t look too angry, and since she’d already been assured there’d be no fence painting, she figured she could handle whatever the punishment turned out to be. After hanging up her Danica jacket, she took her school books out of the backpack, and Wyatt Dahl came to mind. She wondered if she could talk to her mom about her feelings about him. Punishment first, she reminded herself, so, gathering up her courage, she went downstairs.

  Mama Roni was in the kitchen, shaking tortilla chips onto a paper plate to accompany the bowl of salsa on the table. Zoey liked salsa and chips after school. That her favorite snack was being offered lowered her anxiety a bit.

  “So,” her mom began once Zoey had gotten a plate and dug in. “I talked to Rocky, and she said the reason she told you what she did was to stop you from pestering her about the bike.”

  Zoey froze in midbite and met her mom’s eyes.

  “She’s fully grown and can barely lift that bike herself, honey.”

  Zoey remained silent.

  “I know this may be hard to take, but when someone, especially an adult, tells you no, you need to go with that.”

  Zoey thought about riding out to see Mr. Patterson and swallowed guiltily. “Okay, Mama.”

  “And as for the punishment, I’m leaving that up to your dad, since he was the one you blew off and dissed.”

  She concentrated on using a chip to lift up some salsa.

  “But until he gets back, there’ll be no TV or DVDs.”

  Her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped. “But Danica’s racing Friday.”

  “And?”

  Zoey sighed inwardly. “Okay.”

  “Laptop for homework only.”

  Another inward sigh. She’d hoped to skirt the television ban with her computer. Guess not.

  “Anything you want to say about this?”

  “Just I’m sorry for not listening.” She was a kid. She knew her lines.

  “I appreciate that, and I’m sure your dad will too when he gets back.”
<
br />   “Can I still go to the garage with Amari and Devon?”

  “Yes.”

  That was something. “Think I’ll go up and start my homework now.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Upstairs a sad-faced Zoey carried her books to her desk and plopped down into the green desk chair. Life sucked. She hadn’t meant to pester Rocky. She just wanted to be able to ride her Silver Shadow motorcycle because it was the coolest thing on earth. And now that she thought about it, it was a really big bike. No way would she be able to grow enough muscles to lift it, and she was dumb to even think she could. Grow up, Zoey Raymond Garland!

  Considering all the begging she’d done, she supposed she should be glad Rocky hadn’t told her to beat it and get the hell out of her face. Not that Rocky would’ve talked so mean, but Zoey knew from life in Miami that not everyone was nice. More than once she and her mom had been cursed at for begging on the streets or threatened with the police for getting caught going through a restaurant’s trash, looking for stuff to eat.

  The picture of her mom that she’d gotten from her aunt Yvette in Toledo sat in a little frame on her nightstand. Getting up, she walked over and picked it up. The face was younger than when Zoey had known her, but it was her mom, and she still missed her an awful lot. Mama Roni said that was okay because it showed how much Zoey loved her. She wondered how her life might have turned out had Bonnie not died. In a perfect world, she’d’ve gotten off all the drugs, and the two of them would be happy and living in a house just like the one she stayed in now. However, like the other kids in town, she knew the world wasn’t perfect. It was filled with sad stuff, people who hurt your feelings, and rats. She promised herself she’d never do drugs because she didn’t want her own kids to be homeless or eat out of trash cans. Life in Kansas was much better than the one she’d had in Miami. She just wished her mom was there to share it. Giving the picture a solemn kiss, she walked it back to its spot and started on the homework assignment.

  Downstairs, Roni hadn’t let Zoey’s glum face bother her or give her a case of the guilts for doing her job as a parent and trying to raise her up right, as the old folks called it. Life would hand her a lot of no’s as she grew older. She wanted Zoey to get with the program now rather than later, when the consequences could prove greater. She debated whether to call Reggie and let him in on what was happening. Last thing she needed was his fussing about her having interrupted whatever he might be doing at the moment, so she opted not to. There were already enough bad feelings between them. She didn’t want to add another piece of kindling to the fire, so she started on dinner instead. Her phone sounded. Caller ID showed it to be Reg. Surprised and, yes, pleased, she answered.

  “Hey.” She kept her tone neutral.

  “Hey back. How are you?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  “Good, too. Conference is kinda cool.”

  “Nice to know.”

  Silence.

  “How’s Zoey?” he asked.

  Roni told him what was going on.

  “I specifically told her she shouldn’t be lifting weights. Did you put her on some kind of punishment?”

  “I figured, since you were the one she disobeyed, I’d let you—“

  “So I get to play the bad guy?” he demanded before she could explain fully.

  She held on to her temper. “Can I finish before you rake me over the coals? Again. Please.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was tight.

  “I figured, since you were the one she disobeyed, I’d let you decide her punishment. In the meantime, I’ve revoked her TV privileges, which means no Danica on Friday night, and her laptop is allowed only for homework. Does that meet with your approval?” This wasn’t going well.

  “Yeah, it does. Sorry again.”

  “Thanks. And so you’ll know, I called Jason today. We’ll be working on the tribute CD, starting a week from today.”

  “But we need to discuss this first.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of how it’s going to affect Zoey.”

  Roni’s anger flared. “Stop laying this on Zoey. It isn’t fair, or the truth, and we both know it.”

  “Look, I’m not going to argue with you on the phone. We’ll talk when I get home.”

  “Fine. Bye.” She ended the call.

  Zoey crept back up the stairs, as silent as a cat. She’d come down to ask her mom what they were having for dinner, only to be frozen in place by Mama Roni’s raised voice. Torn between staying out of grown folks business and desperately wanting to eavesdrop, she now wished she’d immediately gone back to her room because she had confirmation of something she’d been speculating about all along. The mess with her parents was her fault.

  C H A P T E R

  10

  During breakfast the following morning, Zoey did her best to mask her misery. She wasn’t sure what to do about the feelings pulling at her insides. Talking about it with Reverend Paula was probably the best way to go, but she wanted to talk to Crystal first.

  As she put her dishes in the sink, her mom said, “Ms. Bernadine needs everybody to help Mr. Gary with getting the store ready for the opening this weekend, so I’ll meet you there after school.”

  Zoey nodded.

  Concerned, Roni asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She hoped her mom would attribute her mood to the punishment she’d been given.

  Sure enough, she did. “Not going to apologize for putting you on punishment, honey,” she said quietly.

  “I know.”

  “If I didn’t love you, I’d let you raise yourself.”

  “I know that, too. I’m going to get my stuff and meet the boys.”

  “Okay.”

  Once Zoey had her backpack and coat, she returned to the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Have a good day, baby.”

  “You too, Mom.”

  As the school day began, Zoey’s mood lightened a bit when she saw Wyatt enter the classroom. He smiled a greeting. She acted as if cute boys smiled her way all the time and gave him a royal nod.

  After opening the day with math, Mr. James moved them on to world studies. There was a test on tap for Friday, and to prepare them, he divided the class into two teams. Amari, Zoey, Devon, and Wyatt were joined by the two Clark sisters. Crystal, Eli, Brain, and the Franklin girls, Samantha and Megan, made up the second team.

  “The goal is to see how many countries you can identify in the Middle East. The winning team will get ten extra points added to their test score.”

  Zoey liked the sound of that. They’d been studying the history and culture of the area for the past two weeks, but she wasn’t sure she knew where all the little countries were positioned.

  Mr. James went to the computer and displayed a big map on the board. It had shapes but no names.

  “You have fifteen minutes to confer with your team members, and then I need one person from each team to be your representative.”

  As Zoey’s group began their huddle, Wyatt spoke up. “I know all those countries.”

  Everyone paused.

  “My mom did two tours there. I have this big map in my bedroom with pins in every place she was stationed.”

  Amari asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Tiffany wasn’t buying it. “He’s going to mess up. He wasn’t even going to our school when we started studying this.”

  To which Wyatt replied testily, “So what? I know what I’m talking about.”

  Seemingly impressed by Wyatt’s comeback, Amari asked Leah, “Well, do we let the new kid represent?”

  “If he says he can do it, I say let him go for it.”

  Tiffany remained unconvinced. “I really need those ten extra points.” She was not the best student.

  “So do you want to represent us instead?” Leah asked coolly.

  Her sister huffed out an impatient breath that everyone took as a no.

  Devon spoke up for the first
time. “You sure, for real, Wyatt?”

  “For real.” And he looked over at Zoey. “What do you think, Zoey Raymond Chandler?”

  She hadn’t expected to be asked and was caught off guard. “Um. Sure. I vote yes.”

  And with that, Wyatt stood.

  Because only a few minutes had passed, Mr. James eyed him curiously. “Your team’s ready, Wyatt?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Crystal called out in a voice laced with irritation, “But we’re not, so take a seat.”

  He didn’t.

  Pleased, Amari elbowed Leah. “I like the new kid.”

  Laughing, she concurred. “I do too.”

  Crystal’s team chose Brain as their champion. Zoey was certain Wyatt would be creamed.

  Mr. James opened the contest. “Wyatt, since your team was ready first, you get the first country.” The map showed his stylus pointing to an island in the Persian Gulf.

  “Bahrain, sir.”

  “Correct. Preston, your turn. Identify this country.” And he moved the stylus east.

  “Israel.”

  “Correct. Wyatt, your turn.”

  “Yemen.” He was right again.

  Amari did a fist pump. Zoey grinned.

  Brain correctly identified Iraq.

  Wyatt countered correctly with Kuwait.

  Back and forth they went while their team members watched intently. Neither representative made a mistake until Brain stumbled on one of the northernmost countries. “That’s, um, Armenia?” he asked.

  Mr. James shook his head. “Wyatt?”

  “Azerbaijan, sir.”

  “You’re right.”

  His team cheered.

  Wyatt grinned.

  Brain’s head dropped. “Man!”

  “Sorry, Preston,” Mr. James offered, “but our winner is Team Wyatt!”

  The team erupted. Amari rushed over to give Wyatt an exuberant high five.

  Devon turned to Tiff. “How you like him now?”

  “Shut up.”

  And in Zoey’s eyes Wyatt’s stock soared. Cute and smart. Who could ask for more?

  The celebration of Wyatt continued outside during lunch break. As he laughed and joked, Zoey noticed that he seemed a lot more comfortable than he had the day before, and she attributed that to everyone being so nice. Eli hadn’t said a word to him yesterday, but he and his girlfriend Samantha and her BFF Megan came over and welcomed him to Jefferson Academy. Even Crystal walked to the table and declared, “Next time, he’s on my team. Brain, you’re fired.”