by Ursula Renee
“You embarrassed me back there.”
Georgia glanced up at the man who had managed to extract himself from his important conversations to join her. In his blue suit, white shirt, and blue-and-red-striped tie, he reminded her of the community leaders who went to Washington, D.C. to fight for their rights. When he talked to the men in the church, she had heard the strength in his voice.
She was certain her father had seen and heard what she had. It was the main reason he’d insisted she go out with William. The younger man was going places, and when he did, he was going to need a good woman by his side. However, Georgia did not think she was cut out to be that woman. For one thing, she enjoyed eating.
“Do you know who those men are?” He barely took a breath before answering his own question. “Deacon Brown and Pastor Peters.”
“I’m well aware of who they are. Deacon Brown frequently visits the bar, and Pastor Peters was hitting on me the other day at the grocery.”
“Then I’m sure you realize how vital they can be to my future,” William said, ignoring her snide remarks.
“I’m sure getting ahead is important to you, but I was expecting lunch, not church, and definitely not the interrogations I was put through this morning.”
“What are you talking about?”
Georgia stared at him in disbelief. Did the man not hear the questions she had been asked before the service?
“William, the mothers put me through the third degree. And they examined me like I was up for auction. I’m surprised they didn’t make me open my mouth so they could check my teeth.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Like hell I am.”
The mild expletive caught the attention of the older women who had interrogated her before service and a group of girls playing hand games. The women stopped chatting and frowned. The girls froze in mid-play, their mouths dropping open.
Georgia sighed. In the heat of the moment, she had committed a triple play of sins—a female cursing, in front of her elders, on a Sunday. As far as some were concerned, her soul was already burning in hell.
“Excuse us,” she mumbled as she grasped William’s elbow. She led him around the corner out of earshot. “When you asked me out to lunch, I had no idea we were doing this…” She waved her hand at the church. “A warning would’ve been appreciated.”
“I was eager to show you off.”
“So, that’s all I am? A prop?”
“Woman, don’t go twisting my words around.” He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “What do you say we get lunch?”
Though she did not appreciate his brushing aside her concern, she was hungry. She decided to readdress the issue after they ate.
“I kind of had a craving for callaloo and saltfish,” she said as he led her in the direction opposite from Miss Yvonne’s.
“We can get that next time. I figured today calls for a steak.”
“Next time? We haven’t finished with this date yet.”
“I like to think positive.”
Georgia needed to see how the rest of the date went before commenting on the likelihood of them going out again. Though she wasn’t on the worst date she’d ever had, she wasn’t having a ball.
****
Whenever he got into trouble as a child, Nicholas was told his sole purpose in life was to aggravate his father. Nicholas disagreed. He had a long list of people he enjoyed aggravating, including the man standing behind the bar.
As he approached the front door, Nicholas had heard Mr. Collins’s laughter through the open window. Yet the moment he stepped into Sugar, the jolly noise ceased. The older man’s smile transformed into a frown and his spine straightened from a relaxed slouch to a rigid posture.
Nicholas was unsure why the other man disliked him; he was certain it had nothing to do with his family. Mr. Collins doted on Celeste, and over the years he had warmed up to the patriarch of the Santiano family. He even accepted a loan from Nicholas’s father to buy the bar when the previous owner was ready to retire.
Instead of losing sleep over the situation, Nicholas decided to enjoy it. The harder the other man scowled, the wider Nicholas’s grin grew. He did not have to break a sweat to get under Mr. Collins’s skin. All he had to do was walk into the room and the man’s blood pressure rose.
The two men sitting at the far end of the bar turned to see who was responsible for the change in Mr. Collins. Nicholas waved as he walked toward the opposite end. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped two singles on the bar.
“You found Celeste?” the older man asked as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
“Not yet.”
“How’s your father holdin’ up?”
“As well as could be expected.”
“So, what are you doin’ here? You should be with your family. Or, better yet, out lookin’ for that hood you call a friend.” Despite his declaration, Mr. Collins placed the glass next to the bills and poured the drink.
“We’ve checked everywhere,” he said before knocking back the drink.
As for his family, his father had Nonna. The woman could offer him the support he needed. What could Nicholas do? Stare at him?
He preferred staring at Georgia. Of course, he didn’t plan to disclose that information to the woman’s father. It was one thing to get kicks from aggravating someone; it was another thing to get kicked for aggravating him.
“Georgia’s not here.” The older man smirked. “She’s on a date.”
“With a man?”
“What do you think? She’s out with a dog?”
When Georgia mentioned she was going out, she had not indicated it was with someone of the opposite sex.
“Who’s she wit’?”
“A young man who grew up in the neighborhood. He’s a lawyer who’s going places.”
Nicholas wanted to say, “Good for her,” but he could not utter the lie. Though he should be happy for her, he wasn’t. He recognized the jealousy for what it was, yet he still could not help but hope she had a miserable time.
He placed the glass on the bar as he reached behind him for his wallet.
“Don’t bother. I’ll run a tab.” Mr. Collins poured another shot. “I know you’re good for it.”
Translation: I know where to find you if you run out without paying. And if I can’t find you, your pops will.
As Nicholas reached for the glass, he heard Georgia’s voice drift through the window. He turned as she stepped into the bar. A tall colored man in a tailored suit walked in behind her.
Nicholas hoped her date had turned out to be a jerk, she’d left him to crawl back into the sewer from which he’d emerged, and the man with her was a stranger she met on her way into the bar.
“If it isn’t the happy couple.” Mr. Collins’s voice filled the room, shattering Nicholas’s hopes.
All heads in the room turned toward Georgia and her companion. The older men nodded and waved. Their eyes beamed with the pride of knowing someone who had matured from a mischievous boy to a successful man. The younger men, however, eyed him suspiciously, like he was competition. Not that Nicholas faulted them.
Every woman, with the exception of Georgia, stared at the man as if they wanted a few minutes in the back room with him. Georgia showed no signs she entertained thoughts of being anything other than friends. But she had always been levelheaded. She did not start looking at china patterns simply because a man glanced in her direction.
“How was the date?”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “Daddy.”
With her hand on the other man’s arm, she walked toward the bar. As far as Nicholas was concerned, the gesture was too intimate. There should have been at least a distance of one mile between her and her date.
Nicholas was certain Georgia would not appreciate his opinion. He, therefore, kept the comment to himself as he slid off the barstool to his feet.
“Did you hear from Celeste?” she asked.
&nb
sp; “Not yet.”
Georgia patted Nicholas’s hand. It was a simple gesture, but, coming from her, it offered him hope.
“Nicholas, I’d like you to meet William. William, this is Nicholas, a good friend.”
“Nice meeting you.” Her companion had a deep voice that would command attention.
He was approximately two inches shorter than Nicholas and had a wiry build. However, his suit announced he could afford good threads.
Everything about the man was perfect. He was successful, good-looking, and he had her father’s approval. He was the type of man Georgia deserved.
Nicholas hated him.
Georgia squeezed Nicholas’s hand again. Though he recognized the silent chastisement, he could not force himself to do more than give the other man a curt nod.
Before Georgia could verbalize her displeasure at Nicholas’s behavior, Mr. Collins cleared his throat.
“Nicholas, didn’t you say you had somewhere to go?”
It was only the older man’s relationship to Georgia that kept Nicholas from calling the man on his lie. Had he done anything other than finish his drink and leave, she would have gotten upset. And, though she wasn’t causing a scene, the nails digging into his palm were enough of a deterrent.
Nicholas slipped his hand from under Georgia’s and knocked back his drink. He retrieved his wallet and tossed two singles on top of what had already been on the bar.
“Keep the change.”
“I intend to.” Mr. Collins swept up the money in his hand.
Nicholas took Georgia’s hand and kissed the back. “I’ll speak to you later, amore mio.”
She snatched her hand from his. He knew he overstepped his bounds. The previous times he’d kissed her hand, he had done so to prove she was special to him. This time, however, the gesture was to get under the other man’s skin.
With a smirk, Nicholas strolled out of the bar. Georgia was going to have something to say about his behavior. Yet the steam coming from her companion’s ears said it would be worth it.
****
“What was that all about?” her father grumbled.
Despite the shiver the kiss had sent through her, Georgia shook her head. “It was Nick being Nick.” She slid onto the barstool he had vacated. “I know not to take him seriously.”
“Still, watch yourself around him.”
She was certain her father’s concern was due to Nicholas’s reputation of sleeping around. It was the last thing he needed to worry about. If there was one thing she was certain of, Nicholas had no interest in her.
The skepticism in her father’s eyes said he had his doubts.
“Trust me, Daddy. Nick and I are just friends.”
“I do trust you. It’s him I don’t.” He waved to the empty stool next to her. “Sit. Have a drink.”
“I’ll sit for a bit, but I’ll pass on the drink.” William perched on the barstool. “We’re meeting at the church in the morning to discuss the situation going on in Arkansas.”
“You mean those colored children bein’ turned away from that school?” her father asked. “You goin’ down to help ’em?”
“No, we figure they already have people rallying behind them. However, we’re sure there are children in other southern states who could use our help.”
Georgia nodded. Over the past three years, she had read articles about colored students denied entry into a public school, despite the 1954 ruling by the United States Supreme Court that “separate but equal” had no place in public schools. She assumed the stories she read were not isolated incidents and for every one that made the papers there were plenty others that were overlooked.
The events going on in the south reminded Georgia of how lucky she was. The public schools in Brooklyn were separated by zones. Therefore, all her father had to do was submit proof of her address.
Georgia did not know whose address he had initially used to enroll her in an elementary school outside her zone area. However, after Celeste and she became friends, as far as the Board of Education was concerned, her primary residence was with the Santianos.
Once she was in school, everything did not go smoothly. Some of the other children and a few teachers looked down at her because of the color of her skin. There were a few incidents of name calling and several physical encounters. Yet always, before anything became serious, Nicholas was by her side, ready to defend her.
Georgia felt a touch on her hand. She glanced over at William, who smiled back at her.
“I enjoyed the afternoon,” he said. “We should do it again.”
“We’ll see,” she quickly replied before her father could arrange another date. If it was left up to him, the next outing would have the couple standing in front of Pastor Peters and reciting vows.
“How ’bout I drop by during the week and we talk.”
“That’ll be fine.” This time her father was quicker with a response.
Sighing, Georgia nodded. “Yes, that’ll be fine.”
William climbed off the barstool. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. The gesture was as chaste as a brother kissing a sister, and it did nothing for her. Of course, she did not expect anything more passionate, not with her father standing in front of them, monitoring their every move.
After shaking hands with the older man, William waved to the men sitting at the opposite end of the bar.
Before the door had finished closing, her father began humming “Get Me to the Church on Time.” Two of the older customers turned in her direction and smirked.
Rolling her eyes, Georgia slid off the barstool. She marched toward the rear of the bar to the door that led to the apartments. She’d had her fill of men for the day…and possibly the rest of her life.
Chapter 6
The beige paint was peeling from the drawers of the steel desk, and rust covered the top of the two-drawer file cabinet. The gray dropleaf stand and green-vinyl-covered chair looked like they had been swiped from a classroom in the school across the street from the diner. The typewriter sitting on the stand was older than she was. And, she was certain, the white milk-glass hurricane lamp on the far right-hand corner of her desk previously sat on one of the end tables in her employer’s apartment. Yet Georgia appreciated the trouble the man had gone through to set up an office for her.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d need.” The eldest son of Sophie Santiano pointed to the adding machine perched on top of a box of receipts in the far left corner of the desk. “Let me know if you don’t like something. I’ll replace it.”
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Santiano,” Georgia said.
He chuckled. “Every time you call me that, I’m reminded of the little girl who skipped around Marco’s garden with Celeste.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“How about Joey?”
“That’s not professional.”
“It’s more professional than ‘yo, old man.’ ”
She had to admit calling him by his first name was certainly more professional and respectful than the greeting his son used.
Joseph’s sigh and the pain in his eyes tore at her heart. His towering height and husky build reminded Georgia of an oversized teddy bear. But whoever heard of a sad teddy bear?
“Joey it is,” she said.
A smile slowly replaced the man’s frown. “Your father’s blessed to have a good girl like you. Would you like something to eat before you start?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then I’ll let you get to work.” He took a step out the door but paused to say, “Remember, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need something.”
“I won’t.”
Once the man turned the corner, Georgia silently clapped her hands and shimmied. The most she had hoped for when she graduated from college was her own desk in a room shared with three other people. But to have her own office?
Granted, her office was located in an alcove in the rear of the diner’s storage room, and she did not have a
door, but it was still her office.
“Oh, I forgot.”
Georgia stopped dancing and spun around. The blush warmed the tip of her ears. What must he think about her silliness?
“I’m going to have a telephone installed in here later this week. For the time being, you can use the one out front, behind the counter, if you need to.”
“Thank you.”
Though his eyes twinkled with amusement at her antics, he did not admonish her for the unprofessional behavior. Joseph chuckled as he disappeared around the corner again.
Deciding the celebration could wait until later, Georgia slipped her black purse into the desk. Because of the warm temperature, she had not worn a sweater over her short-sleeved, red-and-black-print dress. She wished she could have forgone the stockings, but it would have been too casual, even for the diner.
Georgia sat down, moved the adding machine to the side, and pulled the box to the center of the desk. Numbers had always fascinated her, and math had been her favorite subject in school. By the time she reached high school, she had mastered several areas, including trigonometry and calculus. Therefore, it had come as no surprise to those close to her when she announced her decision to study accounting in college.
Determined to make a good impression on the man who had helped her achieve her dream, Georgia ignored the big hand every time it passed by the twelve on the clock hanging over her desk. She worked through the morning until her neck was stiff from bending over the desk, her derriere was sore from sitting so long, and her morning coffee had settled in her bladder.
Her stomach growled, demanding attention. She tightened the muscles, hoping it would quiet down until she finished typing the numbers on the adding machine. The aroma of callaloo and saltfish did not help.
It took Georgia a minute before she remembered Joey did not serve West Indian cuisine in the diner. Since her imagination was not strong enough to conjure up the smells, there was only one explanation as to why she could practically taste the dish.
Georgia froze. How the hell did he know where she was? The only person she had told about her decision to work at the diner was Joey. At dinner the previous evening, she’d told her father she would spend the day running errands. And, other than asking her to pick up butter, he had not questioned her.
