For Your Love

by Beverly Jenkins

  Bernadine decided she really liked this lady.

  “Unfortunately, Astrid is very much like my late husband. He too was filled with greed and hate. Met him at a barn dance. Handsomest man this little country girl had ever seen. Called myself falling in love, and didn’t know who he really was until two days before the wedding, when he bragged about burning a cross in front of Cephas Patterson’s place.”

  Bernadine went still.

  “Yes, that Cephas Patterson. Tammy told me about the gold. Heard he left it to a little girl in your town.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Also heard Astrid was so fit to be tied, she wound up being the source of a lot of damage here. My apologies on that, too. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, my husband, Walter. No way was I calling off the wedding, not after all the money my parents spent. I give a high five to the young women of today who have the balls to call off their weddings because the guy is an asshat or a philanderer. We didn’t do that back in my time. We bit the bullet, walked down the aisle, and cried ourselves to sleep on our wedding night. Society said you had to have a husband, even if he was a cheating, cross-­burning, money-­grubbing one like mine. Be glad you weren’t alive back then.”

  “I am.”

  “But”—­Mabel pointed a gnarled finger tipped with navy blue polish—­“I was the balance for all his hate. Every time he and his yahoo friends burned a cross or harassed a colored family, I wrote a check to Tammy’s church or to the NAACP in Washington. Made him furious. There was nothing he could do to stop me, though. The money in his pockets came out of my trust fund, and my daddy had been wise enough to leave everything in my name so the Franklin family wouldn’t lose control of the land.”

  “Smart man.”

  “Not smart enough to tell me not to marry Walter, though.”

  Mabel and Tamar together had to be something to behold, thought Bernadine. “So are you really going to sue your granddaughter?”

  “You bet. Do you know she tried to have me declared incompetent this past summer? Talk about fit to be tied. Lawyers took care of that, though. She was trying to get her hands on the Franklin trust so she could keep buying Cadillacs and playing footsie with Meryl Wingo. The other grandkids had been complaining about how she was treating them. I knew Astrid could be a pain in the butt—­she’d been that way all her life—­but I figured the kids would work it out. But when Austin ran away with his little chippy and outed her the way he did, I believe she went around the bend for real.”

  Bernadine told Mabel about the meeting with Mr. Proctor and the businessmen.

  “I heard about that, too. I’ll be meeting with them later to get things stabilized as much as we can. Pump a bit of the trust’s funds into the city treasury, and maybe appoint Lyman as the city manager.”

  “I think that would be a great idea.”

  Mabel smiled. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Going to head over to Franklin now. You know things are bad when a ninety-­two-­year-­old lady has to fly in and sweep up. Been real nice meeting you, Ms. Brown.”

  “It’s been an honor and a privilege to meet you as well.”

  “Thank you. Now you go on home and get packed, so you can fly to Key West and have a good time with my godson.”

  Bernadine blinked.

  “Who said there are no secrets in a small town?”

  And with that, Mabel, her walker, and her minions left the still stunned and laughing Bernadine to return to her afternoon.

  She wasn’t alone for long, though. Her next visitor was Sheila Payne. “I heard there were quite the fireworks at Judge Amy’s courtroom,” she said upon entering and taking a seat.

  “You heard right. I think Astrid’s going to be too busy trying to stay out of jail to give anyone any more trouble.”

  “We can only hope.”

  “What can I help our VP of social affairs with today, or are you here as Sheila?”

  “I am here in my official capacity. It’s about Kelly and Bobby’s wedding. I know you’ll be funning and sunning in Key West and won’t be here, but do you think we can spring for bus tickets for their moms to attend the ceremony?”

  “Sure. Just talk to Lily.”

  “Okay. Are we giving them a gift from the town?”

  “I think we’ve given them everything but seahorses already, Sheila. Did you have something specific in mind?”

  “Not really. I just want to make sure I have everything tied up before you and Mal take off. I don’t want to be bothering you while you’re away.”

  “Thanks for that—­I’d appreciate it if no one bothered us while we’re away. If anything comes up that needs official attention, bug Trent.”

  “Gotcha. When are you leaving?”

  “First thing in the morning.”

  “Have fun, get some rest, and enjoy.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “The world will be here when you get back.”

  “Thanks, Sheila.”

  As Sheila left, she passed the attorney Steve Tuller coming in. Bernadine sighed inwardly at the seemingly revolving door. Tomorrow morning can’t get here fast enough. “Mr. Tuller. How may I help you?”

  “Just stopped in to say thank you for making yourself available this morning, even though we didn’t need you in the end.”

  “No problem. I was surprised to see you representing Tommy after the mess last time.”

  “Last time, between you and me, Astrid did indeed hire my firm to represent him. We’d done work for her grandmother, Ms. Mabel, in the past, and were under the impression that he had a legitimate claim against your store.”

  “Only to learn . . .”

  He nodded tersely. “My partners and I weren’t pleased, and neither was Ms. Mabel. She was furious to find out we’d been so ill used, as she put it. When Tommy’s mom contacted me to let me know he was missing, I called Ms. Mabel. She was convinced Astrid was involved, and asked that I keep her in the loop—­if and when he turned up, she wanted him to add his story about the roaches to the case she was building against Astrid.”

  “So you’re representing her interests by being Tommy’s lawyer.”

  “Yes.”

  Bernadine had a question. “Let’s say Astrid is found guilty in Tommy’s case against her. Will she do any time?”

  “Probably not. More than likely it’ll be a slap on the wrist and probation. However, the civil suit being brought against her by the family is another matter. Ms. Mabel has cut her out of the trust, which means she no longer has access to any of the town’s funds—­which she was helping herself to illegally—­and she’ll have to find somewhere else to stay. The house belongs to Ms. Mabel, and eviction proceedings have already begun. Astrid’s going to need a lawyer to deal with all this. I hope she figures out a way to pay one.”

  Bernadine thought about the nasty way she’d evicted the Acostas. Karma’s only a bitch if you are.

  “Are you going forward with your civil suit?” Tuller asked.

  “I’ll get with my legal ­people and see what they advise, but sounds to me like there won’t be anything left but the bones once the family gets done with her.”

  “Who knows, maybe she’ll have to live in a trailer park. As a person who lived with my mother in a park as a child, I was pretty offended by her remarks in court today.”

  “I didn’t grow up in one, but I was offended with you.”

  Tuller inclined his head. “Great doing business with you, Ms. Brown.”

  “Same here.”

  “Enjoy Key West.”

  “Thanks.”

  He made his exit, and she wondered if there was anyone on the planet that didn’t know her plans for Key West. Oh, the joys of small-­town living.

  CHAPTER

  21

  When Bobby came home from work, Kiki was on the phone. From the sou
nd of her side of the conversation, she had to be talking to her mother.

  “Mama, if you don’t want to come to our wedding, then don’t. I was just trying to see if you wanted the bus ticket so you’d have a way to get here if you did.” She glanced Bobby’s way and rolled her eyes.

  Bobby didn’t like the judgmental, holier-­than-­thou Estelle Page, and the feeling was mutual. She’d never forgive him for what she termed “filling her daughter with the devil,” and she’d never forgiven Kiki for being with him. As far as he knew, she hadn’t seen the twins since the day they were born. She’d pledged never to allow Kiki in her home again as long as she stayed with him. He hoped she was ready to remain on her high horse for the rest of her life.

  “No, Mama, we’re not living in the van. The babies are fine, and no, the ­people here aren’t running a cult. Yes. I understand you want to see them, but you can see them when you come to the wedding. No, I’m not moving back to Dallas without Bobby. How many times—­ Mama?” Kiki looked at the phone. “She hung up on me!”

  “Your mama is crazy.”

  “She thinks we’re living in a cult.”

  “Crazy.”

  Kiki dropped down onto the couch. “I really wish she’d lighten up. The twins are her grandbabies. She should be in their lives.”

  Bobby thought his kids could do very well without someone who saw the devil everywhere, but he kept that thought to himself. Crazy or not, she was still Kiki’s mom.

  “The babies are penned up, watching a video.”

  “I’m going to go say hi. Be right back.”

  “Leave them in jail, Bobby. They wore me out today. Baby Bob has been throwing up all day. He’s settled down now, and I just want to catch my breath.”

  He found them inside the large playpen. At the sight of him they started chattering and crawled to the edge. Tiara pulled herself up along the side. Holding on with one hand, she raised the other one to be picked up. “You two been whipping on your mom today?”

  He picked Tiara up and gave her a kiss. Bobby Jr. began crying, so he leaned down and picked him up, too. “I hear you’re not feeling so hot, buddy.” He kissed him and then set them both down. Bobby Jr. began wailing instantly, and that set off his sister.

  “Bobby!” Kiki yelled from the front room.

  “I just picked them up to say hello,” he shot back.

  She appeared in the doorway. “What part of leave them in jail did you not get?”

  He turned, studied her, and stopped short at the sight of the tears in her eyes. Instead of snapping back in reply, he walked over and took her in his arms. “Rough day?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “They didn’t want to eat, or take a nap. If Bobby Jr.’s got the crud, that means his sister will have it too, soon, and they’ll both be throwing up and crying and cranky.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Did you call Doc Reg?”

  “Yes. He’s on the road. He said he’d stop by this evening. I don’t feel good, either. We’re getting married in three days. My mama is Looney Tunes and thinks these wonderful ­people here are a cult.”

  Behind him the babies were screaming. For the moment he did his best to ignore them.

  “Tell you what,” he said softly. “What do you want to do this evening?”

  “Run away.”

  “Not on the menu.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay, then how about a nice long soak in the tub and then read for a ­couple of hours.”

  “That’s allowed. I’ll take the evening shift with Monsters Inc., and you just chill.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to cook dinner.”

  “I’ll take care of dinner.”

  “You can’t cook, Bobby.”

  “So me and the kids will eat Wheaties. Don’t worry about that. Just go and get in the tub. Grab a book and consider yourself off duty.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, my soon-­to-­be wifey. Now scat.” He kissed her, and once she was gone, he turned to his screaming children. “All right. Daddy’s here. Who wants to play poker?”

  As he’d promised, Reggie Garland came by later that evening and checked out Baby Bob, as he was now being called. Reg thought he had a touch of a twenty-­four-­hour stomach virus and offered the parents some suggestions on how to make their son comfortable while the bug ran its course. He agreed that Tiara would probably come down with the same thing shortly, so they should be ready. They thanked him, and when he left, Kiki said, “You have to love a town where your neighbor is also your pediatrician, and he makes house calls.”

  Bobby cracked, “That’s how cults roll.”

  The Douglases were awakened by a pounding on their door. Bobby, who’d been up all night with his sick son, stumbled to the door and opened it to find Estelle Page standing on the steps.

  “Where’s my daughter?” she demanded.

  “Good morning to you, too, Ms. Page. Do you want to come in?”

  She pushed past him and, once inside, stopped and stared around at the place. Bobby cracked, “Nice place, huh? While you pick your mouth up off the floor, I’ll get Kiki.”

  He didn’t need to, though. She came out of the back, carrying Tiara. “Mama! What are you doing here?”

  “I came to try and talk some sense into you one last time.”

  “How’d you get here?”

  “Pastor Garner drove.”

  Kiki sighed audibly. “Where’s he now?”

  “Out in the car.”

  “Go get him, and you can join us for breakfast. Bobby has to leave for work in about an hour.”

  Bobby could see Estelle eyeing the baby but pretending not to be interested. “I’m going to get washed up,” he said. “Will you be okay?”

  “Yes. You go and get together. Breakfast will be up in a few.”

  He raced through his morning routine so as not to leave Kiki alone too long. When he returned, a short older man wearing glasses was seated in the living room. “You must be Bobby,” he said.

  “I am. And are you Pastor Garner?”

  “I am.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  Bobby thought the man seemed pleasant enough.

  “Nice place you have here.”

  “We like it.”

  “How much is the rent?” asked Estelle.

  Kiki said, “We have the place for free right now.”

  Her mother stared. “Free?”

  “Yes. Bobby, food’s ready, baby. Pastor Garner, do you want to join us?”

  “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you.” He sat and said, “Let’s say grace.”

  After the short prayer, Estelle said smugly, “I’ll bet this is the first time that’s been said here.”

  Bobby raised his gaze to Kiki.

  “No, Mama, it’s not. Reverend Paula lives in one of the other trailers, and when she comes over to have lunch with me, we always say grace.”

  “Who’s Reverend Paula?” Estelle asked,

  “The priest who baptized the kids on Christmas Eve.”

  That appeared to catch both visitors by surprise, but only Pastor Garner said, “My congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  But Estelle was not to be denied. “So tell me about this cult.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Bobby went to answer it. It was Tamar.

  “Saw a strange car outside. Just wanted to stop by and make sure you kids were okay.”

  “We are. Kiki’s mom is here.”

  “Wonderful. May I meet her?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bobby was pretty sure Tamar would take care of the cult nonsense once and for all.

  She entered the kitchen, and Kiki made the introduct
ions.

  “Welcome to Henry Adams,” Tamar said. “I’m Tamar July.”

  Estelle looked her up and down disapprovingly. “I’m Estelle Page. Are you one of the cult members?”

  Tamar stopped. She looked at Kiki, then at Bobby, and lastly at Pastor Garner. “I’m assuming you’re her doctor, and she’s under your care?”

  Bobby snorted. Kiki kept her head down to hide her smile.

  Garner was smiling as well as he stood. “I’m Pastor William Garner. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Same here. Did she really ask if I was a cult member, Bobby?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Olivia and I were on the way to the rec, but I think I need to take off my coat and sit for a few.”

  “You know you’re welcome, Tamar,” Kiki said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Please.”

  Kiki returned with a mug of the brew, black. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, doll. Now, Ms. Page, let’s begin again. Explain the cult remark, please.”

  “My daughter has obviously been brainwashed by the ­people who live here. She said she was given this place for free. No one does that without wanting something in return. Running drugs is my guess, since he knows all about that.”

  Tamar glanced Bobby’s way. “Is she talking about you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She offered him a pat on his hand before settling her fierce hawklike gaze on Estelle again. “How do you brainwash someone? Is there a special soap or detergent that you use?”

  Garner was viewing the interplay with muted amusement. Bobby wondered just what role the man had come to play.

  “How dare you patronize me.”

  “Be glad that’s all I’m doing. My shotgun’s in the truck. My ancestors gave their lives to found this town. How dare you demean the blood they shed and the sacrifices they made with your narrow-­mindedness? Do you know anything about what the race endured to escape the butchery in the south after Reconstruction failed? Do you?”