For Your Love

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For Your Love Page 11

by Beverly Jenkins


  Fastening her seat belt, Rita cracked, “What in the world is a regal woman like her doing with a country jester like Mal?”

  Trent chuckled and turned the key to start the engine.

  “She’s what, five-­eight and about a size eighteen?” she went on. “Built like a damn goddess, and drop-­dead gorgeous. And you were right. Very nice.”

  He remembered Bernadine’s first year and the hoops she’d forced Mal to jump through before even thinking about entertaining his company. “She gave Dad a real run for his money, believe me.”

  “I’ll bet she did. And your Lily. Beautiful as the flowers she’s named for.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Easy to see she loves you madly.”

  “I love her even more.”

  “Have you been married since high school? I remember the prom picture in the photo album.”

  “No, only a little over a year. She’s wife number three for me.”

  Her surprise showed in her voice. “You’re kidding. We didn’t talk about this yesterday, did we?”

  “No.” He told her about his failed marriages—­first to Felicia, the high-­powered lawyer he’d helped put through law school. “I wanted kids. She said she did too, and we agreed that once she passed the bar, we’d figure out how to balance children and our jobs.”

  “Didn’t work out?”

  “No. Told me she’d changed her mind about the whole child thing, and that she’d gotten a tubal during law school.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Got married again two years later. Mia. Owned a bookstore. Lasted six months. She was sleeping with one of my business partners.”

  “Oh, Trenton.”

  “Decided the big city had kicked my ass long enough, and for the last time, so I came home.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, but I got Lily eventually, so I won in the end.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  He was about to pull out of the lot when he remembered something. “You never did finish telling me why you had to be bailed out of jail.”

  She laughed. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging. Protesting. I’m a child of the sixties and seventies, and after we moved to California, I went to Berkeley.”

  “Oh, okay,” he replied.

  “Then you know all about what it stood for back then?”

  “Yes. American history class in undergrad.”

  “Ah. I spent my four years at Berkeley protesting against everything from Nixon to the war to the police shootings of Black Panthers. Then I went to the Sorbonne in Paris to finish my art studies and protested there. Two years later I came back to the States, and I’ve been marching for or against issues since. Women’s rights. Civil rights. Rights of the poor. Last month it was for a sound immigration policy, and two weeks before that against the navy’s deep-­water testing, which endangers our whales. Paul says Val grew up to be a lawyer because the two of them spent so much time in courtrooms watching my lawyers trying to convince judges why I shouldn’t be locked up.”

  “But all great causes. She had to be proud of you.”

  “Oh, she is—­they both are. And she’s done her share of marching as well.”

  He pulled out of the Power Plant parking lot and tooled slowly down the street so Rita could see the new church, recreation center, and school.

  Again she was impressed by the architecture. “Such great buildings—­even the one named for Old Cat Eyes.”

  Trent smiled inwardly. He hoped there wouldn’t be fireworks if the two met during Rita’s visit.

  “I was supposed to ask Ms. Brown the architect’s name,” she added, “but I was too busy being impressed by her fabulousness. And she’s responsible for all this?”

  “Every brick, paved road, and light pole. There’s a small subdivision, too. You’ll see that when we go home for dinner.”

  The leveled lot holding the listing remnants of the Henry Adams Hotel, which had served as a movie theater in her day, caught her attention. “What happened?”

  “Tornado in 2005. Took the school, too.”

  “That’s so sad. A lot of necking went on in that balcony.”

  He chuckled. “Bernadine’s trying to restore it.”

  “I like that idea. I hope it happens—­that old building represents so much of what this town was about.”

  He agreed.

  As Trent would tell Lily later, when they walked into the Dog and heard Stevie Wonder on the juke box singing “Skeletons in Your Closet,” he should’ve taken it as a sign and walked right back out. Instead, he watched his mother look around in amazement.

  “This is a nice place, Trent.”

  “We’re real proud of it. It used to be a well-­loved dump before Bernadine waved her magic wand.”

  Since it was a bit after the lunch rush, the place wasn’t real crowded. Mal came up and was about to speak when Rita asked excitedly, “Is that Genevieve?”

  Trent grinned. “Yes, it is.”

  “Mal, do you think she’ll remember me?”

  “I think she just might.”

  And at that moment Genevieve, seated at a table with Marie, glanced up. When she saw Rita, her eyes widened. She said something to Marie, who looked over as well, and Marie’s eyes flashed icily.

  But Genevieve was on her feet, hurrying over to where they stood. “Rita!”

  They met and hugged and rocked and laughed, while Marie watched distantly.

  “My god, girl,” Genevieve gushed. “I didn’t know you were here. You look so good!”

  “California living. It’s all about the bean sprouts and the yoga. You look damn good yourself.”

  “My goodness! When did you get in?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Trent interrupted. “Let’s find a seat, ladies. We’re blocking the entrance.”

  They got a booth, and Mal brought Rita a menu. “You want something to drink, Rita?”

  “Just water for now, Mal, thanks.” She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Gen.

  “So you’re living in California?”

  “Yes. I told Trent I expected you to be living in Paris.”

  “I wish. Glad to have you back.”

  “Hello, Rita.” It was Marie.

  “Hey, Marie.”

  “I heard you were here.”

  The air in the room changed. Genevieve looked tense.

  Mal returned with Rita’s water. “Good to have her back, isn’t it, Marie?”

  “Not really.”

  “Marie!” Genevieve gasped.

  Mal was staring at Marie as if he’d never seen her before. Trent was pretty floored, too. He’d seen her angry before, but usually it was a classroom setting, when one of the students had gotten out of line.

  Rita Lynn picked up her water and sipped slowly. She raised her eyes to Trent, and it was impossible to tell what she might be thinking. She set the glass down again. “Marie, I’m here to visit my son, not to rehash stupid shit from high school.”

  “Marie,” Gen said quietly, “go back to the table.”

  “Shut up.”

  “What?”

  “I said shut up, Genevieve.” Marie glared at Rita Lynn.

  Gen stood up and asked in an incredulous voice, “Who in the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

  By then all the other diners were staring.

  Rita Lynn very calmly picked up her menu and began perusing the offerings.

  Marie snapped, “Oh, what? Now you’re going to ignore me?”

  Rita didn’t raise her eyes from the menu. “Yes, I am. Just like I did forty-­five years ago. Mal, get your girl. The last time she and I got physical, it was two weeks before she stopped looking like Joe Frazier after being whipped by Ali.”

  Trent froze.
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  Mal shouted, “Time out! What’s going on here?”

  Marie looked like she wanted to jump across the table and snatch Rita up.

  Gen asked him coldly, “Are you really that clueless, Malachi? Still?”

  “Apparently. So fill me in.”

  “Shut up, Genevieve,” Marie warned. “You just worry about the fact that she slept with Clay, too.”

  Genevieve paused, looked at Rita Lynn, who verified the disclosure with a tight nod. That fact rocked Trent, but he had to give it to Gen, who turned to Marie and yelled, “Earth to Marie! Forty-­five years ago.”

  Mal blinked. “Wait. Rita, you had sex with Clay?”

  “Just like you had sex with Lisa Green, Adele Pettiford, Constance Phillips, Bobby Jo Mitchell . . . shall I go on? At least I did it with Clay during one of the many times you and I broke up. You did those other girls on some of the same nights after we went out on dates.”

  Trent had never seen his dad look so small.

  But his mother wasn’t done. “And as for Ms. Cat Eyes here, the only reason she’s got her panties in a twist is because you never asked her to take them off.”

  Trent jumped, and Mal did, too.

  Marie screamed, “You bitch!”

  Rita Lynn threw her water in Marie’s face. “Go home.”

  Marie shook with fury. Trent thought she might be in tears, but she was so wet from the face down, it was hard to tell. Without a word, she hurried over to her table to retrieve her coat and purse and left.

  There were shocked faces all over the diner, and you could hear a pin drop.

  “Sorry, Gen,” Rita said.

  “She started it. You finished it. Que será será. How long will you be here?”

  “After this, Trent may be taking me straight to the airport.” She gave him a small smile, which he returned.

  “Well, I need to go see about Marie, if she hasn’t driven off and left me. Next time you’re here, we need to get together and catch up. Good seeing you, Rita.”

  “Same here.”

  “Bye, Trent.”

  “Bye, Gen.”

  Genevieve walked past the silent Mal without a word.

  Rita glanced up at Mal, who looked as if he wasn’t sure how to react. Trent knew exactly how he felt. “Can I order now?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  “I’ll have your number six with the honey mustard on the side, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Later that night, as Trent and Lily lay in bed, he told her the story. When he’d finished, she said, “Wow. Sounds like that old show Peyton Place.”

  “I’d say it was more like The Real Senior Citizens of Henry Adams.”

  Beside him, she chuckled in the darkness.

  Dinner with the family had gone well. Rita Lynn had been warm and showed great interest in her grandsons, but he’d noticed the hint of sadness behind the smiles. When he drove her back to Tamar’s, she’d been quiet and subdued.

  “So what was up with Marie, do you think?” Lily said now.

  “No clue,” Trent admitted. “I mean, she must be really hurting if she’s holding a grudge after such a long time. And why be mad at Rita? Marie couldn’t force Dad to like her.”

  “Maybe she thought she’d’ve had a chance with Mal had Rita not been there? I don’t know.”

  “But she’s been like his sister their whole lives. From his reaction, he didn’t even know she had a thing for him.” He replayed Gen’s withering question: Are you really that clueless, Malachi? Still? “Have to admit, when they started talking about who was sleeping with who, and Rita rattled off that list of names, I was like, I am way too young to be hearing all this.”

  She chuckled once more. “Glad I missed it. Never known my godmother to pick a fight like that before, but sounds like she did.”

  “Definitely. Rita Lynn handled her business, though.”

  “Does Marie know the circumstances surrounding your birth?”

  “I assumed Dad told her, but maybe not. She didn’t bring any of that up.” He wasn’t sure who knew what about him being brought back to Henry Adams by Rita’s mother or why Rita had never visited before now. “I’ll have to ask him. Man, Rita really laid it on him, though. He looked like Inch High, Private Eye, when she finished.”

  “Her coming back has been very interesting, to say the least.”

  “True, but I’m still glad she’s here.”

  “So am I.” She turned her head on the pillow. “Just thought of something. I wonder if Marie’s reaction had anything to do with her son and his adoption?” Marie found herself pregnant during her first year in college, and her out-­of-­wedlock son was taken immediately after birth and put up for adoption. Marie never even got to hold him. Two years ago, he’d called, asking to meet her. She’d agreed, thinking he meant to establish a relationship, but she was wrong—­he only wanted to see what she looked like and to learn whether there were any health problems in the gene pool. It broke her heart. “Do you think she resents Rita being in your life because she can’t be in the life of her own child?”

  Trent had no answer. He eased her into his side. “I don’t know, but I hope she and Genevieve made up. I hadn’t seen Gen that hot since the day she decked Riley.”

  “I’ve been wanting to have a high school reunion, but after this drama today, maybe I need to rethink that.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Rita should come back and spend Christmas with us. I know it’s last-­minute, but I assume you’d like that, and the boys certainly would.”

  “What about you? After all, Marie is your godmother.”

  “We invite her too, and sell tickets.”

  He laughed so loud he was afraid he’d awakened the boys. Once he recovered, he asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Certain. I want her to have a relationship with us. She’s your mom. You two are owed that, after being apart for so long.”

  Trent didn’t think his love for her could grow any higher. “You’re a remarkable woman, Lily Fontaine July.”

  “Glad you figured that out.”

  “I’ll ask her in the morning.”

  “Good. Now show me how remarkable I am.”

  Grinning, he pulled her closer and showed her that and more.

  The following morning, Trent drove Rita Lynn back to the airport.

  “Sorry again about the drama with Marie yesterday,” she said as they sat in the truck outside the terminal. She hadn’t had much to say on the ride there.

  “No apologies needed.”

  “Did you tell Lily?”

  “I did.”

  “She’s probably furious, what with Marie being her godmother and all.”

  “No. Not a bit.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? I didn’t come here to cause dissension in your marriage.”

  “I know that, and so does she. She’s not mad at you in any way, shape, or form.”

  Rita seemed quietly grateful.

  “We’d like to have you back for Christmas. I know it’s last-­minute.”

  “I can’t. I chair a fund-­raiser in Monterey every year the day after.”

  “Then what about after Christmas, and stay until New Year’s?”

  She looked surprised. “You mean that?”

  “No. I’m just kidding. The family and I never want to see you again. Of course I mean it!”

  “Lily won’t mind?”

  “Would you stop worrying about Lily? She was the one who asked me to ask you.”

  “She’s remarkable.”

  Trent had nothing to say to that, but he did smile. “So can you come back? And bring Paul and Val, so we can meet them, too.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Lord, I thought I was done with the waterworks.” She fished around in her p
urse for a tissue. “Yes, I will come, and I’ll see if Paul and Val can come, too.”

  “Good.” Trent didn’t want her to leave, because the little boy inside who’d missed her all his life was afraid he’d never see her again.

  “I’ve so enjoyed this,” she said.

  “I have, too, and we’ll be together from now on. Deal?”

  “Deal,” she whispered.

  “Let’s get your bag so you can go inside.”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Honestly, I don’t want you to, either. Scared I’ll never see you again.”

  She placed her hand against his cheek. “I’ll be back. Promise.”

  He took her bag out of the back and held on to it as they walked to the doors. Inside, she hugged him tightly. He hugged her tighter. “You take care of yourself,” she whispered.

  “You, too. Make sure you text me when you land.”

  “Will do. Give my regards to Mal, even if he doesn’t want them.”

  “I will.”

  She wiped her tears. “Now go on home, or I’ll never stop crying. I’ll call and let you know what day we’re coming.

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Good. Tell Val you tried to behave, but it wasn’t your fault.”

  “She’s not going to believe a word. Bye, son.”

  “Bye, Mom.”

  Out in the truck, Trent drew his palms down his wet eyes and started the engine. Never in his life had he ever imagined he’d say the word Mom. But he had, and it felt good.

  When the plane took off, Rita sat in her seat a tremendously happy woman. The memory of seeing her son walking through that kitchen door for the very first time gave her goose bumps. Not only had she regained him, but he’d come bearing gifts like the Magi. She now had a beautiful and gracious daughter-­in-­law and two grandsons. Seeing Mal after so many years had been emotional too—­the drama aside. They’d had some great times growing up, and they’d made a child—­a bond they’d carry to their graves. As she basked in the afterglow of the visit, she thought about her parents and chose to stop damning them for what they’d done. Her memories of them no longer had to be twisted by anger and betrayal. She had her son back, the balance in her life had been restored, and she could once again honor them with love. She was truly blessed.

 

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