Heart of Gold

by Beverly Jenkins

  “You don’t have to justify anything to me, Harmon.”

  “I know, but I wanted to state my case. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

  “Never. You put up with my sister with such grace and patience, you’re a saint in my eyes. This new marriage is kind of sudden, though.”

  “I know, but carpe diem.”

  Bernadine supposed he was right. Seize the day.

  “So, how’s Diana taking it?”

  “Crying and playing the victim. She swore the divorce was just you having a midlife crisis and that you’d come crawling back to her with your tail between your legs. Guess not, huh?”

  “No. I’ve had it. Too old for all her drama and craziness.”

  “Understandable.”

  “How’s she treating you?”

  “Badly, but I’m a big girl. I’m making her get a job, though—she needs to be able to take care of herself.”

  “Good for you.”

  “We’re having an all-family gathering here in town for Thanksgiving, and I’ll be inviting the kids. Don’t expect you to make an appearance, though.”

  “No. Pat and I are moving to Florida. We may try and resurrect my practice down there. We’ll have to see. I’m sure the kids will be glad to see you, though. They love you a lot.”

  “I love them too, and I’m wishing you and your bride well. The two of you are always welcome if you feel the need to visit, and I hope you’ll stay in touch.”

  “Will do. Thanks for making this call so easy.”

  “No problem. She put you through hell, Harmon, so go on with your life and be happy.”

  “Always did love you, Bernadine. You’re the best.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  And the call ended. Was she surprised that he’d married again so quickly? Yes. Was she mad at him? No. As she’d noted earlier, he deserved some happiness, and she hoped his second marriage would give him that and more.

  “So, Mom. How do you know when you like a boy?”

  Roni was sitting on the edge of Zoey’s bed. They were saying their good-nights. “Depends on the girl. Why? Are you liking someone?”

  She nodded. “This new kid. His name’s Wyatt Dahl.”

  “Is he nice?”

  “Yes.”

  Roni found the dreamy voice amusing. “You’re not really old enough to have gentleman callers right now.”

  “I know, but can he come over and watch NASCAR?”

  “I suppose so, as long as it’s downstairs in the living room. Can’t have boys in your bedroom. Does he like NASCAR?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. He wants to be a cartographer, though. That’s somebody who makes maps.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  “And he’s really smart.”

  Roni was then treated to a telling of the geography competition. She was impressed. “He beat Brain?”

  “Yes,” she replied with awe in her eyes and voice. “We were like, Whoa!”

  “Where’s he from?”

  “Chicago. Said he was the only White kid in his class. Said he was okay with it, though. Should I be worried about that?”

  Roni wasn’t sure she knew how to answer what lay beneath the surface of the question. “Does your being of a different race bother you?”

  “No,” she said easily. “Megan said I was going to be messed up for the rest of my life living in Henry Adams with a bunch of African Americans, but nobody likes Megan.”

  “I’m not liking her myself. But you need to know that there are some people who’ll be upset because you and your parents don’t match.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “I know, but some people don’t like that we don’t.”

  Zoey went quiet for a moment as if mulling that over. “Mr. James and Rocky don’t match either.”

  “No, but there’s an old saying: ‘Love is blind.’ It applies to them, and to me, you, and your dad. We love you to pieces, never doubt that. Okay?”

  She nodded. “Are you and Dad going to be happy again?”

  Roni paused and viewed the concern in her daughter’s eyes. “We will. Don’t worry. Sometimes adults are like kids. We have issues, and then we work them out. Sort of like you and Devon right now.”

  Zoey blew out a breath. “Devon.”

  Roni smiled. “It’ll get better. Just give it some time.”

  “He’s making Amari crazy.”

  “That’s what little brothers do. I wanted to bury both mine in the backyard every day when we were growing up. Made me nuts.”

  Roni sensed Zoey’s mind was elsewhere. It reminded her a bit of what she’d sensed that morning at breakfast. “You okay, honey?”

  “Yeah. Just been thinking about a lot of stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Kid stuff.” She changed the subject. “So you think I can ask Wyatt if he wants to come over and watch NASCAR?”

  “If his parents are okay with it, so am I.”

  “He lives with his grandmother. His mom was a soldier. She died in Afghanistan. He said she stepped on an IED. I didn’t know what that was until I looked it up.”

  “That’s very sad. Does he have any brothers or sisters?”

  “He didn’t say, but I think it’s just him and his grandma. Amari told him my mom died too and Devon said something stupid, but Brain smacked him down. I like having big brothers.”

  “Amari and Brain are great at their job.”

  She went quiet again, then asked, “Do you miss your mom?”

  “I do. Very much still. I don’t think we ever stop missing them.”

  “Me either. Your mom was a singer, right?”

  “Yep, and Daddy a drummer. They toured all over the world.”

  “Did you miss them when they were touring?”

  “Of course, but my brothers and I stayed with my grandparents when we were real young, and my gram was just so cool. She’d let us stay up late as we wanted on Friday nights. Always had ice cream in the fridge. Then once we got to be about your age, our parents would take us with them when they toured during the summers.”

  “I liked doing the tour with you.”

  “And it was awesome having you with me.”

  “The Eiffel Tower was sick. Especially at night.”

  Roni laughed. “I thought so too the first time I saw it. I was eleven. We used the word cool in those days, not sick.”

  Zoey didn’t respond at first, but when she looked up, Roni swore she saw pain. She asked gently, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, Zoey? I can’t help if you don’t.”

  “Just wondering. What if Wyatt doesn’t like me back?”

  Roni knew that wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t press. “Are you planning on asking him to marry you?”

  “No!” She laughed.

  “Then how about you concentrate on being his friend? You’ll have plenty of time to worry about rocking his world when it’s appropriate. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now get some sleep. School in the morning, and then the big reception for the store tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Do I have to go to that?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “Good. I’d rather come home instead.”

  “Okay, but no sneaking TV while I’m gone, because I’ll know, trust me. And let’s hold off on inviting Wyatt over until after you talk to your dad about the weights.”

  The head dropped.

  “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime,” Roni pointed out knowingly.

  “Do you think he’ll be really mad?”

  “Has he ever been really mad at you, ever?”

  No response.

  “He might get upset like he did the time you jumped on Devon and whipped his butt, but I doubt he’ll banish you to the tower.”

  That brought out a smile.

  Roni placed a kiss on Zoey’s cheek. “Sleep tight, cupcake.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

>   “Love you more.”

  Before leaving the room, Roni looked back at the child who held her heart. Something was going on. She just wished she knew what.

  As Zoey lay in the quiet darkness, she was comforted by the soft glow of her night-lights. Then she asked herself, What ten-year-old sleeps with a stuffed tiger and night-lights? She supposed that made her a baby, but deep inside she knew she wasn’t ready to part with either. She turned her mind to something more pleasant. Would Wyatt really move to town? If so, that meant she’d get to see him all the time—at the Dog, the Friday-night movies, maybe even church. She wondered what he’d think when she saw her walking in the procession, proudly holding her torch. She also wondered if he’d like OG and Tamar. Thinking of Tamar brought out the real reason she didn’t want to attend the reception. She hadn’t been out to check on Mr. Patterson in a few days, and she didn’t know if anyone else had either, so while her mom and everyone else was at the reception, she planned to take a quick ride out to his house. She decided that leaving him a couple slices of cake was a good idea, too. He probably never got cake. Getting herself back home without getting caught was also a good idea. She snuggled closer to Tiger Tamar and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, the last conscious thought was the sound of her mother’s voice: If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

  C H A P T E R

  12

  At school the following morning, Zoey and the boys parked their bikes in the racks out front. As they walked toward the doors, Amari called to her, “Hey, Zoey, hold up. Brain and I need to talk to you for a minute.”

  Uncertain as to what this might be about, she slowed. Devon did too, which made his brother ask, “Is your name Zoey?”

  Devon’s face soured.

  “Just go and let us handle our business, okay?”

  It was clear Devon wanted in on whatever was about to transpire, but in the face of their twin glares, he sneered and continued on his way.

  Once he was gone, she looked between Amari and Brain and asked, “What’s up?”

  “Crystal texted us last night about you thinking you’re going back to foster care,” Amari explained.

  She didn’t hide her displeasure.

  Brain set her straight. “She told us because we’re family, not to spread your business.”

  “Remember the first time we all got together, and the speech Tamar gave about us looking out for one another?” asked Amari.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what this is about.”

  She liked that they were concerned, but she didn’t like knowing Crystal told.

  “So, number one,” Amari said, looking concerned. “Whatever is going on with your parents, it’s not your fault. Your mom even said that, right?”

  She nodded.

  Brain added, “And no way is Ms. Bernadine going to let you get sent back to Miami or anyplace else. Not happening, so stop worrying. Let the adults do their thing, and you just lay low until they get it worked out. Everything’ll be fine.”

  “And if you need somebody to talk to you, you got us, Tamar, OG, and Reverend Paula, not to mention your mom and dad. They’re all straight and will tell you the same thing. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Amari threw his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’re not letting nothing happen to you, girl. Remember that.”

  Not wanting them to see the tears of emotion in her eyes, she hastily wiped them away. Flanked by her big brothers, she walked to the doors to begin the school day.

  Zoey was still concerned about her parents, however, and being sent back to foster care in Miami weighed heavily on her mind. She was also not happy with Crystal. Big sisters were supposed to hold on to secrets—at least, they did in books and in the movies. After the test, during the free hour Mr. James gave them on Fridays, Zoey went to the art room to speak with Crystal.

  “Hey, Zoey.”

  “Hey.”

  “How are you?”

  Zoey watched Crystal putting paint on a canvas. The image reminded her of the two-faced Roman god Janus they’d studied last spring, only the face was Crystal’s. The side facing left looked like the old her, complete with the ugly blond weave. The face profiled on the right wasn’t finished but appeared to be the Crystal that Zoey was talking to now, with the nice makeup and the cute haircut. “What’s this?”

  “The last part of my triptych for the big art show competition in LA next year. I’m calling it Life. What do you think?”

  “I like it.”

  “It’s not even close to being finished, but I kinda like it, too. How do you think you did on the test?”

  “Think I did okay. Talked to Amari and Brain before school. Wish you hadn’t told them what I told you yesterday.”

  The brush paused. “Did they make fun of you? Because I’m going to kill them if they did.”

  “No,” Zoey assured her hastily. “Not at all.” She wanted that clear so the boys didn’t reap the Wrath of Crystal.

  “Good. I told them because you seemed so down, and I wanted them to tell you that we all felt the same way—you’re not going back to foster care.”

  “But I wanted it to be just between us.”

  Crystal must’ve seen the distress she felt. “Then I apologize, Zoey. I figured we’re all in this together, so we all have to have each other’s backs.”

  “I know, but it’s sorta like the night you ran away. You didn’t want me to tell, so I didn’t—at least not at first.”

  “But you didn’t tell me not to tell.”

  “Didn’t think I had to.”

  “Oh.” Crystal looked embarrassed. “Sorry, but you need to tell me next time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And I’m sorry again. I’ll keep my big fat mouth shut from now on. Don’t want you to think you can’t confide in me. Deal?” She extended her fist.

  Zoey bumped hers gently against it. “Deal.”

  It was a cold day, but rather than eat lunch inside, the kids grabbed their coats, hats, and gloves and braved the weather. As they opened their bags and got set up, Wyatt announced that he and his grandmother were indeed moving to Henry Adams and would be living in one of the double-wides on Tamar’s land. That earned him a series of happy high fives and congratulatory pats on the back. “I’m not sure who Tamar is, though.”

  “My great-grandmother,” Amari said.

  “Aka She Who Must Be Obeyed,” Brain threw in, grinning. “She’s tough, but she’s fair.”

  “And can be a lot of fun, when you take her shotgun away,” Leah added.

  “Shotgun!”

  Zoey sought to reassure Wyatt. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t shoot kids.”

  “That we know of,” Devon pointed out from his seat next to Zoey.

  “You’ll meet her at the reception,” Leah said. “You are going right?”

  He nodded, then asked Zoey, “Are you?”

  She looked at him over the sandwich in her gloved hands. “Um, no. I’m going home after school. I’m sorta on punishment.”

  Every eye turned her way.

  “What did you do?” Wyatt asked.

  She’d confessed before thinking about the consequences, and now she was on the spot. “I was lifting weights, even though my dad said I shouldn’t.”

  “Why were you lifting weights?” Leah asked.

  She really didn’t want to admit why, so she said, “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Yeah, right,” Devon drawled.

  “I don’t need to lift weights to kick your butt,” she tossed back.

  A chorus of ooos followed that.

  “You sucker-punched me,” Devon said accusingly of the incident he was still trying to live down. “And I couldn’t hit a girl.”

  “And you were screaming like a little girl when my daddy pulled me off you.”

  Laughter.

  Seeing the surprise on Wyatt’s face, it occurred to her that she might not be making the best impression, so she
shut up about that and said, “Have fun at the reception.” Avoiding his eyes, she went back to her sandwich.

  But Devon, being Devon, wouldn’t let things be. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You like him, don’t you?”

  She ignored him.

  “I know you do.”

  “Leave me alone, Devon.”

  He whispered again in a singsong voice, “Zoey and Wyatt, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  “Amari. Get your brother.”

  “First came love. Then came marriage. Then came Zoey with a baby—”

  She punched him so hard he fell off the bench, and when he hit the ground, she was already on him, punching and swearing and calling him names. He ducked and screamed and tried to turn himself into a ball to escape her fury, but it was too late. It all happened so fast, the other kids stared frozen, mouths open. Finally, Amari jumped up, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her free even as her arms continued to flail like the vanes of a windmill.

  “Let me go, Amari!”

  Hand over his bleeding nose, Devon screamed, “I hate you, Zoey!”

  “Let me go!”

  Then Mr. James was there. He took in the still-flailing Zoey and Devon, crying on the ground. “What is going on?”

  Amari put Zoey on her feet, but held on to her arm.

  “She hit me for no reason!”

  “Liar! I will kick your country butt back to Mississippi!” Anger brought out her Florida drawl.

  “Zoey, quiet!” said Mr. James.

  “He’s a menace, Mr. James!”

  Wyatt was staring her way, but she didn’t care.

  “Amari, let’s get your brother to the bathroom and get this nosebleed stopped. Everyone else, back inside. Zoey, call your mom.”

  Still heaving with fury, she stormed back to the building and hoped Devon’s nose bled until Christmas.

  A short while later the still-angry Zoey sat with Mr. James in his office, along with her mom, Ms. Lily, and Devon—who had toilet paper stuffed in his nose and a cold pack over his swelling eye. Neither of the moms looked pleased.

  Mr. James asked, “Who started this?”

  “He did!” Zoey snapped. “He was whispering some stupid rhyme about me having a baby.”