“Alana said six o’clock. I can come get you any time you say.”
She looked a little uncertain and he thought he’d persuaded her but she shook her head. “Thanks, Gabe, but I’ll see you there.”
With that he had to be satisfied but he had the feeling her refusal had to do with more than her meeting.
Drew had a great week. Each day he came home with something more to relate to Gabe about a new friend, a good teacher, the way a girl had looked at him. He even brought home a math test on which the teacher had written, “B, but I expect an A from you next time.” Even riding on the school bus had been an adventure.
“Some of the juniors and seniors have cars and never ride the bus,” he told Gabe wistfully.
“Is there any trouble on the bus?” Gabe asked.
“There’re a couple of rowdies that the driver has to yell at but mostly everyone’s okay.”
Although Gabe suspected this wouldn’t last, Drew was so glad to be in school with Jeff and other friends he’d made, he willingly followed the routine Gabe had set up with Drew’s agreement. Do any garden work that was needed, then school assignments. Next was dinner, which they were taking turns preparing. After dinner he had to finish any schoolwork then he was free to ride his bike, talk on the phone and do anything else until bed, which on weeknights was a negotiated time between ten and eleven.
At first Drew had argued that since Gabe’s new job was only part-time, why couldn’t he do dinner every night?
“It doesn’t work that way, Drew. I’m willing to do breakfast every weekday because you have to get out of the house before I do. But you have to get dinner every other night. That’s not such a hardship and besides, you know you like to cook.” They were cleaning up the kitchen after Gabe’s dinner of fried chicken, cabbage the way he’d learned it from their mom and baked potatoes.
“Just because I like it doesn’t mean I have to do it all the time,” Drew grumbled.
“I have to do some cooking for a contest Saturday. Maybe you can help me think of something to take,” Gabe said.
“You’re going to be in a cooking contest? Man, that’s wild!”
“It’s just an idea Alana had for a different kind of party. She talked about it when we were at Rockwell’s. Don’t you remember?”
“Guess not. I was talking to Jeff most of the time.”
“One thing I know I’ll make is a triple-chocolate cake.”
Drew’s eyes got big and he made a slurping noise with his mouth, which made his brother frown. “Can I have a big piece? That’s my absolute favorite.”
“I’ll try to save a piece to bring home.”
“Gabe, you know there won’t be any left from the party. You need to cut me a piece before you take it.”
“No way, Drew. You’ve got a birthday coming up. I’ll make you two. Okay?”
“I’m gonna remind you of that promise,” he said as he started out of the kitchen. “Hey, I just remembered. What was that thing Ma made when we had company? She used those small chickens.”
“Small chickens?”
“Yeah. They were almost like birds and she always made some good rice with them.” He frowned in an effort to say something more that would make Gabe remember the dish.
“Small chickens like birds,” Gabe thought aloud. Then he grinned. “You mean Cornish hens.”
“Was that their real name? I never knew. The way she fixed them they were sure good, I remember that.” Drew was positive.
“Great idea, bro. Thanks. I’ll leave you some for your dinner.”
“Can Jeff come over and have dinner with me tomorrow?” Drew knew when to press his advantage.
Gabe was already reaching for some cookbooks. “Okay,” he said as he searched the index for Cornish hens. After finding a recipe that was almost like his mother’s, he began a shopping list for the poultry and the cake. He was going to be busy Saturday morning, but it would be a welcome change from what he’d been doing and he was looking forward to the party. And Makima.
He was on his way upstairs when the phone rang. Now that Drew was in school most of the time the calls were for him, so Gabe didn’t hurry.
“Gabe, it’s Uncle Calvin for you,” Drew yelled.
Gabe sank down in the office chair and picked up the phone. “Calvin! You won’t believe me but I was going to call you later tonight,” he said.
“You’re right. I don’t believe you.” His friend’s baritone voice was so familiar it filled Gabe with instant warmth.
“So when you coming to see us?” he asked.
“What do you mean? You haven’t told me anything about Grayson or how you’re getting along and the first thing you say is when am I coming down there!”
“You promised that as soon as Drew and I got settled in, you’d be down. Seriously, man, you’ve got to come see for yourself what we landed in. It’s too much to try to tell you.”
“That deep, huh? Maybe I should come while I’m waiting to hear from my editor about the latest manuscript.”
“You finally sent it in? Great. Listen, this house is big, we’ve got plenty of space. Steer your ’Vette this way and come see what the South is like. How about next week?”
“I’ll think about it and call you. Okay?”
“I’ll be waiting.” Gabe hung up the phone in a jubilant mood. His best friend, Calvin Peters, would soon be here. He couldn’t wait to have his perspective on what was now Gabe’s world.
Chapter 15
Makima hadn’t exactly told Gabe the whole truth about a meeting today that would prevent her from letting him come by to take her to the cooking party at Carolyn’s house.
His offer had caught her by surprise and she’d almost said yes when Alana popped into her mind. Alana knew how independent Makima was, that she preferred going places alone so she could leave when she wanted to get to her next appointment.
Even though Alana knew Gabe was working at the center, she also knew he didn’t work on Saturday nor did Makima usually, therefore if they arrived together at Carolyn’s, Alana would read something into it. That it was a date. That Gabe had asked and Makima had said yes and he’d take her home afterward.
Makima couldn’t let that happen so she’d turned her overdue visit with Miss Eliza Bowen into a meeting. A Mother in the church, Miss Eliza was now in poor health. She was one of a dozen or so people Makima tried to keep up with through visits or by telephone.
She sat now in Miss Eliza’s cozy kitchen, noticing how the morning sun illumined the blue-and-white-
checked cloth on the round table where the thin china cups and saucers Miss Eliza used for company had been placed. Makima’s hot-out-of-the-oven cherry coffee cake had been cut and served on delicate white dessert plates.
“Coffee’s almost ready.” Miss Eliza watched the coffee dripping into the glass pot.
“Your coffee always tastes so good,” Makima said.
There was a ping and the red light went off. Miss Eliza filled the cups. “I don’t stint on coffee. I buy the best and keep it fresh.” She watched Makima take her first sip. “Now, don’t that taste better than most?”
“It sure does.” Makima had known her hostess a long time and the feisty old lady wasn’t going to talk about her health until her coffee and cake were finished, so the conversation was about church and neighborhood affairs.
“That was mighty good and I appreciate that there’s some left over for me to have some later,” Miss Eliza said. “You’re getting to be almost as good a cook as your mama,” she said with a glint in her eyes.
Makima smiled but she wasn’t going to be kept from the principal reason for her visit. “What does the doctor say about your arthritis?”
“He gave me something new to read about it but I haven’t read it yet. Told me the health-food store in Swinton might have something that would help me.”
“If you need a ride to Swinton, I can take you. How about one day next week?” Makima took her calendar out.
�
�Put your calendar away, Makima. My niece said she’d take me.”
Makima looked up, surprised at the abrupt note in Miss Eliza’s voice. Had she offended her by the offer?
The elderly woman gave Makima a penetrating look. “You know I love you like my own, Makima, so I’m going to tell you what I’d say to my own. You spend too much time doing for others. Like getting up this morning to make that coffee cake and bringing it over here.”
Makima had to blink to keep the tears away. She thought Miss Eliza liked her company and the way she never came empty-handed. Had she been wrong all this time?
“It isn’t for me or for any of the other people in the community that you should be making coffee cake for breakfast just now.” She leaned across the table and took Makima’s hand. “Why aren’t you doing that at your own breakfast table for your husband and children?”
The affection in her eyes and the clasp of her thin hand made the suppressed tears come up and trickle silently down Makima’s cheeks. Miss Eliza’s question on top of Makima’s analysis as to why she had to reject Gabe’s escort tonight connected painfully.
“Why, Makima?” Miss Eliza repeated gently.
“I don’t know.” She had to swallow to get the words out.
“What happened to that Reggie fellow that was around for a while?”’
“He left.”
“You might not want to know what I think, but I’m going to tell you anyway so you won’t make the same mistake twice. Reggie was personable and the two of you probably thought a lot of each other.”
Makima’s tears had dried and she was listening to Miss Eliza with all her heart. She’d always valued her insight about other people and the issues they’d discussed because of the wisdom and the directness the senior lady dispensed. But this would be the first time Makima was the subject, and Makima didn’t know what to expect.
“Reggie wasn’t strong enough for you, Makima. He saw that part of you would always be involved with the clinic or some other project and where would that leave him as your husband? Would he always be second best? You need a man who won’t feel threatened by what you do and is strong enough to win your love and loyalty. Reggie wasn’t.”
She patted Makima’s hand and released it. “That’s enough advice for today and knowing you, you probably have other things to do. Just think on what I’ve said.”
That was a reminder Miss Eliza didn’t need to give, Makima mused as she left her friend’s house and went to the market to shop for the cooking party. What else could she think about? Fortunately she had a shopping list, so she didn’t have to concentrate on what to buy.
At lunch several weeks ago her mother had raised the same question, which made Makima wonder if there was something about her that gave off a signal that she should be married. She hoped not. Always she’d felt sorry for women whose appearance and behavior indicated a hunger to be married.
In her case she hoped it was because she’d passed thirty and that her mother and Miss Eliza were thinking about the child-bearing years. As she filled her cart she thought of the differences her two critics expressed about Reggie.
“You pushed him away,” her mother had commented.
“He wasn’t strong enough,” Miss Eliza had said.
When she was back in her kitchen she put the smoked turkey wings, bouillon cubes, ginger and other seasonings in a deep pot with water to boil. Then as she began the long process of stripping the turnip greens from their central stems and washing them until the bottom of the sink was free of sand and grit, she let her mind probe the idea of Reggie.
Marriage had never been her primary goal. In her college years she’d thought of it vaguely as something that would naturally occur sometime in the future. After graduate school she’d begun teaching but found herself stymied by administrations opposed to her viewpoints.
June had been killed and she’d left teaching to work on the clinic project. She’d had neither time nor interest in a busy social life. Then Reggie Powell had appeared on the scene last fall and had made his interest in her clear from the beginning.
His persistence had been flattering and she’d begun to go to dinner and the movies with him when she could spare the time. His escort of her was frequent enough that people began to think of them as a couple. What people didn’t know was that she couldn’t force herself to participate in the intense lovemaking that Reggie desired.
“You never give us enough time so you can be comfortable with me and learn to feel for me what I feel for you,” he’d complained.
Makima had taken herself to task and tried after that to show Reggie the affection she felt for him, but it hadn’t been enough.
He’d sent her a note a few weeks later:
This isn’t going to work for us, Makima, although I’ve been hoping it would, so I’m taking a job offer in Durham. I wish you well. Reggie.
Makima had blamed herself for not being able to hold Reggie. Her family had influenced her thinking as they’d practically set the wedding date and now she’d let the groom get away. But maybe that was only a part of the issue, if what Miss Eliza had said was true.
The greens were finally clean and she hadn’t even noticed the passage of time. She cut them up and put them in the pot with the meat after taking out a cup of the broth for the dumplings.
In a small bowl she mixed cornmeal, salt, onion and an egg. She suddenly had an image of making a meal like this in a big kitchen with two or three children running around and her husband coming in to stand behind her, kiss her neck and say, “What smells so good, baby?”
Transported by the image and the thrill that ran up and down her back, she forgot what she was doing. Had Gabe ever had the dish she was making? She couldn’t wait to see his reaction to her mother’s recipe for greens with dumplings.
She steamed the dumplings carefully in the broth then covered the pot to transport it to Carolyn’s.
The next big question was what to wear. She hadn’t been to a party in a long time and she wanted this evening to be special. So maybe she’d wear that silky jumpsuit she’d bought on a whim the last time she’d gone shopping in Columbia.
On the other hand, that might be too showy. That’s why she’d almost put it back on the rack but had succumbed to the saleslady, who’d said it had been made for her coloring and her figure. Letting herself be flattered, she’d bought the jumpsuit but had never worn it.
She looked at several other outfits and laid an ankle-length rose sheath on the bed then went to take a shower. After putting on her underclothes, she ignored the sheath and went directly to the closet for the jumpsuit. It was almost the same color as her skin.
She chose glass earrings of three shades of brown. No necklace. Didn’t want to break the flawless line of the jumpsuit. High-heeled brown sandals completed the outfit.
As she finished her makeup, drifted on some perfume and gave a final brush to her glossy hair, she winked at the woman in the mirror and turned out the light.
Chapter 16
Carolyn Brown’s house already had cars in front of it and lights shone from every window when Gabe pulled up. He looked for Makima’s car but didn’t see it. He hoped she wouldn’t be too late as he intended to spend most of the evening with her. To that end he’d dressed in a black silk turtleneck and pleated black pants. His sport coat was black with a small check and his tasseled loafers had a sheen.
He balanced his two boxes of food carefully and rang the bell. Alana opened the door.
“Gabe! I’ve been waiting for you.” A big smile filled her face as she put her hand on his arm. She was dressed to allure in a flaming red outfit that had a fitted blouse and a flounced skirt that stopped at the knee. Her long legs were smooth in nude nylons and her shoes were silver with a high red heel.
Carolyn appeared beside Alana. “Welcome, Gabe. Let me show you where to put the food. It’s all in the kitchen for now in case you need the oven or the fridge.”
“You made two things, Gabe? I can’t wait to ta
ste them.” Alana sparkled at him. “Are you secretly a chef?”
“Not me. I just like to cook sometimes.”
“Leave the food here and let me introduce you to the rest of the gang.” Alana slid her arm through his and led him into the living and dining rooms.
He spoke to Bobby and Valerie and to Mark. The rest of the crowd were strangers to him. Music was going and drinks were being served. It was all friendly and like other house parties he was accustomed to except for the southern accents. And that each time the door opened the person who came in wasn’t Makima.
He excused himself and went into the kitchen to check on his pan of Cornish hens. He’d just looked in the oven when the back door opened and Makima came in.
He was at her side instantly, taking hold of the box she was carrying. “I’ve been waiting for you. You should have let me bring you. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” His words ran together as he drank in the sight of her.
“It took me longer than I thought.” Her smile held a trace of some emotion he hadn’t seen before as they stood looking at each other.
He set her box on the table, thus seeing her fully for the first time. His reaction was what any woman would have wanted. Admiration filled his face as he pursed his mouth in a soundless whistle.
“You look absolutely spectacular, Makima.” His voice caressed the words.
She blushed in acknowledgment. “You’re looking very smart yourself,” she murmured.
He took her hands and turned her around slowly. When she was facing him again, he said softly, “I know there’ll be a lot of good food here tonight, but you’re the feast for my eyes.” He didn’t want any other man basking in the womanly beauty she radiated. She was for him and him alone.
Makima was mesmerized. She hadn’t let herself acknowledge that it was the thought of Gabe that had made her choose the jumpsuit. But now she gloried in how right her instinct had been even though it was unusual for her.
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