A Second Helping

by Beverly Jenkins

“Yep.”

  “Okay. I’m going to send you a link I want you to check out. Lily still there?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “She should see this too.”

  “Trent, what is this about?”

  “Just watch the clip, then call me back.”

  The very puzzled Bernadine followed his instructions. After calling Lily in, Bernadine went into her e-mail and clicked on the link he’d sent. When the YouTube video opened and began to play, the mouths of both women dropped to the floor.

  “Oh my god!’ Lily screamed. “That’s Cletus, and there’s Riley!”

  “And both wearing shades, no less. Lord have mercy. Where did Trent get this?”

  As they both watched Cletus and Chocolate move up the rose-strewn aisle to the sounds of a wedding march, Bernadine cracked, “And somebody spent a ton of money on that lace, girl. That is not a Wal-Mart buy.”

  Hands over her mouth, Lily stared. “I don’t believe this.”

  “And we thought Leo’s visit was going to be the Henry Adams highlight of the day.”

  The clip continued, showing next a man dressed as a preacher reading from what Bernadine hoped was a fake Bible. Then came a shot of Riley and a tall, red-haired woman. “They look happy,” she tossed out sarcastically.

  “Yeah they do,” Lily responded tightly.

  They shared a loaded look.

  Bernadine picked up her phone. “Let’s find out where this came from.”

  After getting the explanation, Lily left the office and went to pick up Devon.

  On the ride home, she looked over at him sitting so solemnly in the seat beside her. He’d been awfully quiet since his return from New York and she wasn’t sure what was going on with him. She assumed that some of it could be traced to how busy she’d been in the weeks leading up to vacation.

  “Are you mad at me, Devon?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “Ms. Roni said you thought I was too busy for you.”

  He shrugged his thin shoulders.

  “I want to apologize for making you think that, and for not taking you seriously about being the town preacher.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  For the first time he looked her way.

  “It isn’t,” she said gently. “We’re supposed to be family, and family should always have time for each other so they can do things together.”

  “Me and my grandma used to do things together.”

  Lily smiled. “What kind of things?”

  “We worked in the garden. We went to church, and she always took me with her when she went to see Miss Eula to play her number.”

  Lily smiled again. So Grandma was as human as everyone else, after all. “I see. Is there anything special you’d like for us to do together?”

  “I don’t know. Can I think about it for a little while?”

  “Of course.”

  He gave her a shy smile, and that made her feel better. The last thing Lily wanted was to bring Devon pain. Losing his grandmother had been hard for him and he didn’t need her adding to it, even unconsciously. When the Garlands offered to take him along with them to New York, Lily hadn’t hesitated. They loved him as much as she, and his bond with Zoey had always been a plus, but should she have declined? Should she force him to spend more time with her and less with them? She didn’t have a clue. Bernadine was on the lookout for a full-time, on-site psychologist for the kids. Lily thought maybe the foster parents could use one too.

  CHAPTER 7

  Before Bernadine could leave her office for home and dinner with Crystal, a woman she didn’t know knocked on the open door. “Ms. Brown?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Rocky Dancer. Thought I’d come by and introduce myself.”

  “Come in,” Bernadine said cordially. “So glad to meet you and that you’re back in Henry Adams.”

  “Thanks.” She entered and took a seat.

  Bernadine had had no idea the woman was drop-dead gorgeous. “Mal said you’re going to start in the morning?”

  “Yep. The place is pretty well stocked, so I may as well. Some of the stuff Florene ordered is going to have to be sent back or exchanged though. Can’t use it. Not sure how you want to handle that.”

  “Just inventory what you want to send back and give the list to Lily. She’ll take it from there.”

  “Lily Fontaine?”

  “Yes. You know her?”

  She nodded. “I was a few years behind her and Trent in school.”

  “Then you knew them when they were young and in love.”

  “Yeah. So, is his office here too?”

  Bernadine sensed something not quite right. “Yes, he’s across the hall.”

  But Bernadine didn’t have to call him. He stuck his head into her office, and upon seeing Rocky, his face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Hey, girl,” he said, and opened his arms wide.

  She grinned and walked over and took the hug he offered.

  “Good to see you.”

  “You too,” she replied smiling. “How’s life?”

  “Not bad. Dad said you were back. For good?”

  “I think so.”

  Bernadine noticed for the first time Amari and Preston standing beside Trent. Amari looked over at Bernadine and raised his eyebrow. She hid her chuckle behind a faked cough.

  Taking matters into his own hands, Amari said, “Who’s she, Dad?”

  Trent backed out of the hug. “Amari and Preston, this is Rochelle Dancer.”

  “Hey, Amari and Preston. Call me Rocky. Everybody else does. Pleased to meet you. You all had just moved here when I left town last summer. How do you like it?”

  Amari said, “I like it. Dad’s cool and so’s the O.G.”

  Rocky turned to Trent with confusion on her face.

  “Mal,” he replied.

  She grinned. “Oh. Okay, I understand. How about you, Preston?”

  Bernadine noted that Preston was looking at her as if he’d never seen a woman before. Rocky was both gorgeous and stacked, so Bernadine thought maybe he hadn’t seen a woman quite like the Coke bottle–figured cook before.

  Preston seemed to shake himself back to the present. “Uh, I like it here too.”

  “Good.”

  She turned to Bernadine. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Brown.”

  “Same here. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks.”

  Trent asked her, “Where’re you heading?”

  “Clay’s outside. He’s giving me a ride out to his place. He and Bing are going to let me rent my old room again for now.”

  Bernadine told her, “If you want a bit more privacy, there are a couple empty double-wides out on Tamar’s land. The green one’s going to be for the new teacher whenever he arrives, but the one with the blue front is yours for as long as you need it to be.”

  “That’s nice of you. I’ll check it out and let you know.”

  “Good.”

  “Okay. I’m gone. Trent, see you and your little guys later. Bye, Ms. Brown.”

  Everybody offered up good-byes and Rocky left to go grab her ride with Clay.

  “Seems like a nice woman,” Bernadine said to Trent.

  “She is.”

  “Well, me, I’m heading home. Crystal is cooking dinner.”

  “You got 911 on your speed dial?” Amari asked. He looked to see if Preston thought that was funny but Preston was still looking at the doorway recently vacated by Rocky. “Brain. You still on the planet?”

  Once again he shook himself. “What?” He then added, “Ms. Dancer is a very beautiful woman.”

  “And way too old for you,” Amari pointed out.

  Trent chuckled. “Come on, you two. We’re on our way to the garage, Bernadine. See you in the morning.”

  She told them bye, and after they were gone, she stood there for a moment with Ro
cky Dancer on her mind. The cook hadn’t seemed real pleased hearing Lily’s name. Bernadine dearly hoped they hadn’t let a snake into paradise, because personally, she was way too old to keep Lily from whipping somebody’s butt.

  Crystal’s dinner turned out to be not half bad. Bernadine had been expecting something wild and outrageous; instead her young cook offered roast chicken seasoned with rosemary, glazed baby carrots, and Parmesan-topped, twice-baked potatoes. The chicken was dry, some of the carrots burnt, and the potatoes had small embedded chunks that could have baked longer, but overall the meal was okay.

  “Thanks for dinner, Crys,” Bernadine told her genuinely as they cleaned up the kitchen after the meal.

  Crys was at the fridge placing plastic containers holding the leftovers inside. “Did you like it?”

  “I did.”

  “Potatoes were still kinda raw and some of the carrots got burnt.”

  “Noticed that, but for a first-timer you did excellent.”

  “Good.”

  With the cleanup done and the dishwasher running, they left the kitchen.

  Crystal turned to Bernadine. “I’m going to call the prison now and see if I can speak to my mom.”

  “Tell her hello for me and that she’s in my prayers.”

  “Okay.”

  Bernadine walked into the living room and took a seat to watch the evening news. About halfway through, Crystal returned. Seeing the tears filling her eyes made Bernadine go still. “What’s wrong?”

  “She died this afternoon.”

  Bernadine went to her and held her tight.

  “I didn’t even get to know her,” Crys whispered, then she broke down and her thin shoulders shook with emotion.

  “I know, baby,” Bernadine answered softly, stroking her back gently. “But you did get to see her and talk with her.” Before being reunited at an Illinois prison last fall, mother and daughter hadn’t seen each other since Crystal was seven.

  Crystal replied through her tears, “I just wanted her to get well and come live with us so I could get to know her so she could get to know me.”

  “Life had a different plan, I guess.” Bernadine’s heart was breaking.

  “Life sucks,” she declared bitterly,

  Bernadine could only agree. She’d been nineteen when diabetes took her mother and she’d cursed life too. She wanted to tell Crystal that one day the hurt and pain would lessen, but now was not the time. Now she needed to mourn.

  So Bernadine held her for as long as she needed and when the grief loosened its grip a bit, Crystal drew out of the embrace and wiped at her eyes. “Even though I didn’t know her, I’m going to miss her. Do you think she went to heaven?”

  “I do. Bringing you into the world ensured her a place.”

  Crystal nodded as if that satisfied her. “The lady I talked to on the phone said the state’s going to bury Nikki in a cemetery run by the prison because her family doesn’t have the money.”

  The wrongness of that made Bernadine shake her head. “I can have someone take care of it if they want her body shipped home.”

  “She wants you to call her in the morning. Nikki had me down as next of kin, and you as my guardian.”

  “Okay. I’ll call first thing. If her family has a funeral, do you want to go?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’ll just make it hurt worse.”

  “I understand, but you can change your mind if you want to.”

  “I won’t.”

  Bernadine didn’t press. She had no idea whether legally Crystal could have contact with Nikki’s people or not, so that was something else she’d need to look into if a funeral was indeed held, and if Crystal changed her mind and wanted to attend. “Is there anything you want me to do to help you through this?”

  Another negative shake. “I’ll be okay, I guess.”

  “You don’t have to be tough, Crys. Death hurts, and everybody gets a turn in the box sooner or later. There’s no shame in reaching out. If you need something or just someone to listen, you have me and an entire town of folks to pick from.”

  “I know.” The tears began to stream down her face again and Bernadine eased her foster daughter back into her arms.

  Crys hugged her tightly. “I just wished she’d lived.”

  “I do too.” Bernadine kissed Crystal’s tear-dampened cheek. “You want to take a walk or something? We can put in a DVD?”

  “No. I think I’m going back up to my room and be by myself for a while.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Bernadine drew back and studied Crystal’s face. “Your mom loved you, Crys, very much. We both witnessed it when we saw her last fall. Even with all the drama in her life, you, she loved. Never forget that.”

  She received a small, almost imperceptible nod in response before Crystal turned and slowly exited the room. When she was gone, Bernadine wiped away her remaining tears, then said a prayer.

  Upstairs in her room, Crystal looked up at the ceiling. She told herself it was stupid to be doing all this crying but she couldn’t seem to stop. She’d had only one dream in her life—to find her mom and to get her off crack so they could live happily ever after. But when she saw Nikki at the prison, she knew that wasn’t going to happen, especially after being told Nikki’d contracted AIDS, yet Crys hoped God would wave a magic wand and fix everything. Now, however, it was over. The life she was having with Ms. Bernadine was her real-deal life now. There’d be no going back. Not that she wanted to, Ms. Bernadine was awesome, but she wished things could have been different for Nikki and her somehow. The hurt inside welled up again like powerful waves rolling onto shore, so rather than fighting it, she turned over, put her face into her pillow, and cried.

  It was 8:00 p.m. when Trent decided to call it quits for the evening. He’d been working in the garage on his old high school car, a black 1985 Chrysler New Yorker, aka Black Beauty. Amari and Preston had played assistants. Preston mostly sat and Amari mostly asked questions, but Trent enjoyed their company. Which was saying something because last year at this time, the only difference between Trent and a hermit was that Trent drove a truck. He’d moved back to Henry Adams on the heels of two bad marriages and a distaste for big-city living. The hermit’s life became the life for him and he thought he was fine until he met Amari.

  With the boys’ help he carefully pulled the large tarp over the car’s partially restored frame. Once it was in place, he sent Amari to the fridge for three juice boxes and they sat to enjoy the drinks.

  “How old were you when you did your Spirit Quest, Dad?”

  “Ten.”

  “Did you have to take—What are they called again, Brain?”

  “Hallucinogenics.”

  Trent spit out his juice. Coughing, he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his blue flannel shirt, eyeing the two suspiciously. “Who told you you’d be taking that?”

  “Nobody. But Brain said sometimes the old tribes used something like it.”

  He studied them for a long moment. “Some did, but you won’t be, so next question.”

  “Okay, then. What did you have to do?”

  “Camp out on the prairie and wait for a sign.”

  “What kind of sign?”

  “My sign.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You will.”

  Amari didn’t look as if he believed him.

  “Everyone’s sign is different, and your sign will give you your spirit name.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “That’s private, and for the future, it’s considered rude to ask someone that question.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s okay, you didn’t know, but now you do.”

  Preston asked, “How long does the camping part last?”

  “If nothing shows up after three days, you come home and wait another year.”

  “Another year?” Amari cried. “I want to be a July this year.”

  “Not having your name won’t keep you from being a July, Amar
i.”

  “Tamar said I had to honor the Ancestors and that’s what I’m going to do. She said the Julys don’t just take any old body, Dad.”

  Trent didn’t know whether to smile or get in his truck and drive to Tamar’s and smack her upside her head, a move that would undoubtedly cost him his life, so he turned his mind back to saner realms.

  “Why does she want me to have a hatchet?” Amari asked.

  “For chopping firewood.”

  Amari’s eyes lit up. “That sounds like fun.”

  “It is, in its own way. Just hope it doesn’t rain. Nothing worse than being in a tent when it’s pouring.”

  That seemed to deflate him a bit.

  “So what are you going to do for the Henry Adams part of this?”

  Amari shrugged. “Don’t know. She wants me to look at the old pictures, said they might help.”

  “Okay, you know I’ll help too.” Trent could see that Tamar’s tasks seemed to have given the sometimes cocky Amari pause, and that was a good thing.

  They finished their drinks, then turned out the garage lights so they could head home. When they arrived Preston went into his house, and Trent and Amari entered theirs.

  Trent hadn’t forgotten the aborted conversation at lunch. “Now tell me about the Paynes and Preston.”

  So Amari repeated what Preston told him about the trip to Florida and his fears that he might have to leave town. “So if it happens, can he stay with us?”

  “Definitely. Preston’s a good kid.”

  “I think so too. So tell me about this Rocky.”

  “Nothing to tell,” Trent said, picking up the remote and turning to TNT for the evening’s ball game. “She’s an old friend.”

  “Old friend or old girl friend?”

  Trent met his eyes. Was there anything this boy didn’t see? “Both, with emphasis on the word old.”

  “Don’t mean to get in your business but just wanted to know.”

  “Satisfied?”

  “Yes, sir. Going up to my room.”

  “Okay. Lights out by ten, and no texting. I get a bill like I got last month and you and Preston will be using carrier pigeons.”

  “Yes, sir.”