Sasha’s lip was trembling as she looked at Chef Jennifer. “Thank you soooo much.” Her eyes were watering as the singer draped her arm over the girl’s shoulders and snapped a few selfies with her phone and then with Sasha’s. She sat on the couch as the other girls surrounded her and Tony took a few group pictures promising to get them to Sasha so she could text them to everyone at the party.
The assistant gave the signal for them all to leave. Kitty looked at Chef Jennifer and said, “Anytime you are ready to come back to LA...”
Jennifer shook her hand to thank her. “No, I am good right where I am.” She said it to Kitty, but her eyes were on Tony. The pop diva left as quietly as she had entered, leaving the room full of girls and parents full of questions for both Jennifer and Sasha, who stood in the middle of the fray, beaming with newfound celebrity. The girl turned her head briefly to locate where Jennifer was in the room, giving her a big grin and mouthing the words, “You are so awesome.” Her eyes were full of love and Jennifer was turning into a pile of goo.
Raheem was standing next to Tony and said really low, “I think I am falling for her, too.”
Tino stepped up. “... And she can cook. I’m with him,” he said as he spooned in another helping of the grits, mixed with shrimp and mushrooms. “I have never tasted grits this smooth and creamy ... and this shrimp ... and the sausage ... with mushrooms, over grits? She is impressive.”
Tony was grinning as wide as his daughter. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
Time out....
It was an odd evening as Jennifer broke down the displays and packed up the food. She was careful to avoid contact with Raheem, who seemed to hide behind corners watching her work. Tino kept coming into the kitchen, handing her his business cards, trying to convince her to come to Raleigh. He even promised to buy her a house or give her one. She was uncertain of what he meant by that. The mothers of the daughters at the party were all begging for her number and the look on Sasha’s face was unmistakable.
“Thank you so much, ladies, but I’m afraid I can’t. This event was something special for Sasha alone. My calendar is completely booked. I can’t do any more private parties this year,” she was adamant with several of the ladies. One lady would not accept her answer until Jennifer finally said, “No. Now stop asking.”
This pleased Sasha to no end and Jennifer was worried that she had created a monster. She took the time to clean all of the chafing dishes and serving pans before she loaded them into her car with some help from Tony and Tino. Raheem was still watching her as if he was waiting for the horns to sprout. Finally, with her car loaded, it was nearly 9 p.m. and it had been a very long day. Tino, finally accepting that she would not move to Raleigh, resigned himself to a to-go container of grits, loaded with everything he could find, including a separate container of birthday cake. Baking was not her thing, but Melinda was a pretty decent pastry chef, and she had created a pink Wii cake that all the children loved. Especially Sasha’s BFF, Emily, who stopped several times to tell Jennifer that her food was, “Like, totally flippin’ amazing!” Well, you can’t get much better than that.
Tony was getting the girls settled with a movie before bed as Sasha found Jennifer heading out the back door. “Chef Jennifer?”
Her back was turned but she responded, “Yes, Sasha?”
The girl’s face was full of emotion, her eyes were welled with tears. “If I had a mom, I would want her to be like you.” She flung herself into Jennifer’s arms and the tears began to drain down her cheeks.
“And if I had a daughter, Sasha. I would want her to be you,” she told the girl who squeezed her tighter, nearly crushing the air out of her lungs before she quickly pulled away.
“Will I see you again, Chef Jennifer?”
Raheem stood by watching and even Tino had to turn his back for a minute to tamp down the very real emotions that were hitting him too close to home. Jennifer kissed her cheek. “Of course, let me leave you my number.” She handed the girl her business card, gave a salute to the guys and headed to her car.
Tony came into the kitchen. “Where’s Jen?”
Raheem pointed towards the driveway. It was obvious he was upset that she was leaving without saying goodbye, so he called after her.
“I’m back here, Mr. Peay,” she told him.
In the dimly lit space between her car and his house, his approach was slow. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he was uncertain of what should come out of his mouth first. He started with the obvious. “Thank you for an amazing day. What you did for my daughter ... I can’t even begin to ...”
She placed her hand on his chest. “She is a wonderful child. You have done an amazing job. Now, I have to get home before I drop from exhaustion.”
“Jennifer ... I ...”
She held her hand up as she slid into the driver’s seat of her car. “Goodnight, Mr. Peay.”
“Anytime ... any place ... any moment of the day or night, I will be yours, Jennifer, you have only to give the word.”
She had given her last words for the rest of the weekend, she was not up to talking to anyone about anything as she started the engine, tooted her horn and drove off. He turned back to see both Tino and Raheem peeping around the corner, nearly falling over each other trying not to be seen.
“You guys aren’t hiding. You know she saw you,” Tony told them.
The patio, well lit and away from eight 13-year-old girls, was the perfect place to sit and close out the evening. The silence between the three men was not uncomfortable, but there was a great deal for the brothers to talk about.
“So, is the Tino short for anything,” Tony asked.
Tino watched his face. “Yes, Valentino. And Tony is short for...?”
“Short for Anthony,” he said and waited.
“And our sister ... her name?”
“Cleopatra, but we call her Cleo.”
Tino smiled. “So Jackie is a movie buff? Is your middle name Marc or Quinn?”
“Quinn, how did you guess?”
Tino smiled a bit. “My middle name is Rudolph.” It took Tony a minute but he finally nodded that he got it. That would also explain why Cleo’s middle name was Elizabeth. That was the second time it had been said that his mother was a movie buff, and honestly, until the moment, Tony felt as if he didn’t know his mother at all. Tino wanted answers and truthfully he had none. He was the oldest of three children. Why their mother had given Tino away was an unknown variable, but he was going to find out.
Tino smiled at him, cognizant that Raheem had stayed as moral support for his friend in case anything went awry, but he assured them both, “I don’t want to start any trouble. If my being here is worrisome for Jackie and she doesn’t want me to know or to talk to me about any of it, I understand and will respect it. I am here really to establish a relationship with you, your daughter, and eventually get to know Cleo. If you don’t want that either, I can respect it, as well.”
Tony knew what if felt like to be rejected and he was not going to do it to Tino twice. “You are my brother. We are family. I would love to get to know you and I welcome you into our life. The other parts, we will have to take on a case-by-case basis.”
“Fair enough,” Tino told him.
What was not fair, clear or understandable was his mother. Admittedly, she wasn’t the more affectionate of the two parents, but she was supportive. Her help with raising Sasha could not have meant more to Tony, but he was still confused about why she had given Tino away. Maybe it was just a matter of economics. He left it at that and gave no more thought to it.
Wild Mushrooms...
Jacqueline Boehner Peay was the epitome of a Baptist minister’s daughter. She sang in the church choir, taught Sunday school to the kids, and helped out around the church. Jackie, as many called her, also ran the church lending closet. In her heart she wanted to be a jazz singer. Her silken soprano voice was enjoyed by all in the church and each week she had a solo. The good Re
verend Randolph Boehner always stressed to his oldest that her voice was a gift from God and it should be used to exalt His glory. “The moment you try to use it for your own personal gains, you will fall out of His favor.”
Jackie didn’t listen. Every chance she got she was singing, rhythm and blues, jazz standards and some pop tunes. She wanted to be on stage, go on tour, and move to Hollywood to see her name in lights. The more her father cautioned her, the less she cared. “Jackie, I am not going to keep telling you. No good is going to come of you trying to waste your gift on worldly gains.”
In an effort to quell her wanderlust, Rev. Boehner signed her up to sing with a local choir group comprised of different youth, from local churches. Jackie wasn’t sure what her father had in mind, but a busload of preachers’ kids on the move each weekend was a rolling busload of sin. It was true what they said that preachers’ kids were the worst kind and in the back seat of the rolling bus of sanctimony is where Anthony Quinn Peay was conceived.
At 18 years old, Jackie walked across the stage to gather her diploma wearing her new wedding ring and hiding her little tummy from her friends. Isaiah Peay wasn’t the most handsome of young men, but he was the first one to really pay Jackie any real attention. His father, also a minister, was disappointed in his son, whose future had now changed drastically. The money put aside for Isaiah’s college was now used as a payment on a home for him and his new wife.
Rev. Boehner really had little to say to his daughter from that point forward and pretty much treated her like a pariah. Isaiah managed to attend a local community college, earning an associate degree and eventually a bachelor’s degree, but divinity school was out for him, which made him resent Jackie. He loved his son, but not his wife. Much of his time was spent at the church or working on a ministry, leaving the conversation between him and Jackie cool, at best.
When Tony was about two, Isaiah began to realize he was unfair to his wife and suggested she get out for the evening and spend her time with her friends. Her friends were headed to a rap concert. “I’m not sure about this,” she told Lola, her childhood friend.
“It will be fun. Lord knows you could use some fun,” Lola told Jackie as they changed into stylish clothes to go out to party. Unfortunately, Lola and Jackie had two different ideas about partying, especially after they ended up in the hotel room after the concert with the rappers. It was a bad scene. Drugs on the table, liquor flowing and lots of fornicating taking place. To make it worse, Lola had disappeared and when Jackie went looking for her, she was cornered by one of the rap artist.
Most of what happened next was a blur and as much as Jackie fought, she could not stop his assault. When she opened her eyes, she noticed another man in the corner. Not sure if he was waiting his turn, she began to pray. Loud. She called on the angels on high to protect her as she cried loudly for her assailant to get off her. It must have scared them because she was let go.
She never did find Lola and she stopped looking. She took a cab home and scrubbed her skin until it was almost red, trying to wash away the sin of another man touching her in such a way. She felt dirty. She could not make eye contact with Isaiah, let alone stand the thought of him touching her unclean body. He took it as rejection and accepted the normal two-year missionary assignment as Chaplain that would have come with his divinity degree.
The angels must have heard her cries because she had conceived a child from the assault. She hid it as best she could and her mother, a very solemn woman who obeyed her husband’s every command, helped her daughter hide the problem. The resemblance between the two boys was noticeable, but Tino was darker, and the texture of his hair was different. The main issue was that Isaiah had not touched Jackie in a long time and, unless it was a miraculous conception, there would be no explaining it to her husband.
“Jackie,” her mother told her, “God don’t make no mistakes. This child was conceived for a reason.”
“Momma, the man forced himself on me. I know that was not in God’s plan for me to be raped!” Her mother slapped her face.
“You will not be blasphemous, young lady,” she told her daughter. “I have an idea.”
If ever there was a resourceful woman, it was Ruth Biggs Boehner. She knew for a fact her niece-in-law had just gotten the news that she could not have children. “Your cousin, Tom, has just gotten a job in Raleigh and they’re leaving tomorrow. We will get to the house early, bundle up little Tino and ring the doorbell.”
“You want to just leave this child on their doorstep? Momma, we could at least ask her if she is willing to be a mother and take this on.”
“She was devastated by the news that she could not have her own. They have been married for four years and Tom wants a son. He will have one.” It was said with such command that Jackie followed along. Inside the basket was a note and the birth certificate for 18-month-old Valentino Rudolph Boehner.
“Love him, nurture him, and raise him right.”
Tom never asked any questions, but took the boy as his own and raised him with love. As he grew, Jackie made a point of being there for the significant points in his life, watching him grow. The last time she saw him, he had just finished college and was an accomplished man with a love of old school music. She even heard him singing once and knew he had inherited her voice.
Irony is like a field of wild mushrooms, some you can digest, and some will make you trip out. If her life were anything close to the magic of living in a Smurf village among the wild fungi, fate would laugh at her. The one child she gave away was more like her than the two she raised in her own home.
Now a widow and a grandmother of one, her life was still empty of any of the meaning she sought. Her singing wasn’t even done in the church pews anymore, and smiling was something in her past. Tino was coming into their lives and at some point she had to tell him the truth – no matter how painful it was for either of them. She would not ask his forgiveness because in her mind, there was nothing to forgive – he was raised with love by a man he called father and another woman he called mother.
It was better than being raised in a house with a man that would have resented, if not hated him.
A Wild Wednesday...
“Hello, this is ...” she looked at the caller on her cell. It was Tony. Today was Wednesday and her off day. She was dirty, tired, and her muscles were screaming for a massage, which is where her afternoon was going to be spent. After she got up off the couch.
And took a shower.
And had something to eat.
Maybe wash her hair.
“I woke up thinking about you and that beautiful ass of yours,” he almost growled into the phone.
She laughed, “Tony, is this a booty call?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. That booty is calling my name,” he said with a lowered sexiness in his voice. “Bring me some, right now, or I will come and get it. Either way, I need you.”
That was a better idea than what she had in mind for the afternoon. “No, you can’t come to me. I live at home with my dad, remember? He is headed out to golf, but I never know when he will be back.”
“Come to me. Sasha is at school. I’ll call my sister and ask her to pick her up and take her to her house afterwards so you and I can have some much needed alone time,” he said with such an edge in his voice that she could almost feel the pull of him.
“Okay, it will be about an hour, though,” she told him as she looked in the mirror at her saddened state.
“I can’t wait that long....”
“I have to shower and wash my hair,” she said with some sternness in her voice.
“I will take it dirty. Make it fifteen.”
“A half hour is the best I can do.”
“Good, see you in ten. Any longer than that, I may start and finish without you.” The bass of his laughter rumbled in his chest.
“I will be there as soon as I can,” she told him before hanging up. Jennifer did a shimmy in her bedroom mirror and began to hum as she made her way into
the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee before jumping in the shower.
Her dad was at the kitchen table watching her. “I know that tune. That is an ‘I’m going to get some’ tune. I want to meet him. And soon, Jenny.” He said it without looking up from his paper.
“Daddy, I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, trying to play innocent.
He still never looked up. “I want to meet the future father of my grandson before anything goes any further. You hear me, girl?”
How does he know these things? “Daddy, seriously, I don’t know how you come up with these sweeping conclusions.”
As Jennifer turned around to face old Johnny Taylor, the paper was down and his eyes were on her. The deadpan look on his face was very similar to when she came home tipsy, lied and said she hadn’t been drinking and then tumbled over a basket in the hallway.
“You met him the night of your class reunion. You also spent Sunday with him and now, you are going to meet him again. Like I said, I want to meet this man before anything goes much further,” he told his daughter.
Again. How does he know these things?
“Daddy, we’re not that serious,” she told her father.
“Then your clothes should stay on. If they are coming off, again, then I want to meet him before it goes any further.” His facial expression had not changed.
“I don’t think we are anywhere close to being...”
He held up his hand. “The minute you decided to get into bed with him, he became a part of your life. I need to know if he is serious about you. If he’s not, then he and you both need to move on. You are too old to be playing house. Either you are looking for a mate and father of your children, or you need to get your butt back in church and ask the good Lord to send you a life partner.”
It wasn’t up for discussion. Johnny had spoken and he left the room to make sure she understood the conversation was over. So was her desire for sex. Yet she told Tony she was coming over and she would keep her word.
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