by Emery, Lynn
Monette gazed at him for a long while. Jayson lifted a shoulder. He was letting her know he had plenty of reasons not to get serious, too. “Sure.”
They walked the few blocks to the small café in the downtown neighborhood known as Spanish Town. Three tables were arranged on the sidewalk. Monette sat at the only free one while Jayson went inside to order their lunch. While he was gone, Monette relaxed and soaked up the June sunshine. She enjoyed doing nothing in particular and decided she had been too intense about a lot of things. After ten minutes Jayson returned.
“Lu-Lu said the food should be ready in a few minutes. They’ve got some of the best roast beef po’boys around. I took the liberty of getting us an order of curly fries. You gotta try ’em with hot mustard.”
“Good, huh?” Monette stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles.
“Makes me wanna holler. I don’t indulge that often, though. Can’t eat like I did back in the day.” Jayson gave an exaggerated sigh. “Getting old.”
“Please. That’s my line. You’re still a baby. Thirty-three, right?” Monette took off her sunglasses and cocked her head to one side.
“Thank you, ma’am. You’re my new best friend. Try forty.” Jayson frowned as if in pain. “Yep, time marches on. Seems like yesterday I was listening to Run DMC and jammin’ with my boys.”
Monette’s eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise. “You’ve been taking good care of yourself. I mean—” She blushed and put her sunglasses back on.
“All this flattery might go to my head, but don’t stop just because of that,” Jayson said with a crooked grin.
A petite Asian-American woman bustled outside with a tray. She placed two paper plates and tall cups of soft drink on the plastic tabletop. “Here you go, Jayson. You enjoy. Ah, you bring new friend. Very pretty.”
“This is Monette, Lu-Lu. She lives nearby. I’m welcoming her to the neighborhood.” Jayson winked at Lu-Lu.
“Nice, nice. You come anytime. Better get inside. My husband is a good cook, but he can’t work the new cash register.” Just as Lu-Lu finished, a man yelled.
“Dang computers taking over the dang world. Ahh,” a man’s voice groaned. The other customers chuckled with amusement.
“See what I mean.” Lu-Lu muttered in her native tongue as she left.
Jayson laughed. “Lu-Lu is from Vietnam, but you’d think Ellwood was the immigrant the way anything new confuses him.”
“He’s not?” Monette sipped diet cola.
“He grew up in Iowa. They’re a cute couple. She’s older than him, but age is just a number.” Jayson divided up the big paper napkins between them.
Monette glanced at him sharply, but he seemed absorbed in putting spicy brown mustard on his stack of curly fries. She sipped diet cola through a long red drinking straw while she watched him. Jayson took a huge bite of the sandwich. Most of the po’boy disappeared. From the looks of his hefty build, he would need more food soon.
“You can have my half,” Monette said with a grin as she watched him chew. “I had a big breakfast anyway.” He finished a mouthful, then patted his lips with a napkin. “Take a bite before you make that offer. Bet you’ll change your mind.”
“Okay. I’ll slice a tiny piece off just in case.” Monette used a plastic fork to cut the end of her po’boy. She put it in her mouth. The bread must have been baked fresh that morning, because it melted in her mouth. The flavor of Swiss cheese and juicy roast beef slathered in brown mustard hit her tongue. When she let out a groan of pleasure, Jayson nodded.
“Well?” he asked as he watched her savor each chew. “You better order yourself another sandwich if you want more,” Monette replied “But you can eat all of those fries. I’m going to be stuffed as it is on this delicious sandwich.” “No problem,” Jayson replied with a grin.
“Hmm,” Monette mumbled around another mouthful of fresh French bread and roast beef.
“Best you’ve had in a while, I’ll bet” Jayson ate a tangle of curly fries with as much enjoyment
“Considering where I’ve been living, you mean?”
“No, I didn’t mean nothin’ by that. I, well, uh.” Jayson shifted in the plastic chair nervously.
“Relax. I’ve been telling the world about being a convict. A little late for me to act embarrassed by it.” Monette pursed her lips in amusement as he continued to squirm.
“Actually you’ve got a reason to be proud. I’ll bet a lot of women have been inspired by your story,” Jayson said. “Okay, but don’t forget I’m one of those notorious women your mama probably warned you about,” Monette joked. She sipped more cola and nodded to the beat of an old-school R&B song playing on the cafe’s sound system.
Jayson gazed at her intently for several seconds. “Somehow I doubt it.”
Monette glanced at him, blushed and looked away. She drank more soda to cool off. “Yeah, well, I’m sorta reformed these days anyway.”
“I listened to your talk show the other day. Pretty interesting topic on setting goals for yourself. Didn’t even realize that I’d done that when I dreamed of opening my own garage.”
“Sure, dreams are something to shoot for, but goals are the steps to make ’em come true. That’s not original, by the way. The motivational coach who was my guest came up with it.” Monette grinned and ate more of her sandwich.
“True. I know plenty of dudes that worked with me in the same garages and talked about owning a business. They’re still workin’ for somebody else. You got to make plans, put down what’s gonna get you from point A to point B.” Jayson drew an invisible line on the tabletop as he spoke.
“Well said. You can use that speech on my show.” Monette studied him. He didn’t seem driven, but Jayson was a man that would get things done in his own way.
Jayson waved a hand and picked up more curly fries. “Nah, I’m not somebody to give advice. Unless we’re talkin’ about fixin’ cars and trucks.”
“Don’t be too humble. Takes a lot to keep a business going. How about next week?” Monette suppressed a smile when he froze in the act of chewing.
He swallowed hard. “Huh?”
“I don’t have a guest for next week. It’s my show and the station manager lets me make up the schedule. You can even talk about cars if that makes you feel better about it,” Monette said evenly as anxiety seemed to turn his dark eyes even darker.
“I don’t know.”
“Please. I have to make this whole job thing work, and it’s tough coming up with a new show every week.” Monette shrugged and let out a small sigh. She felt only a little shame at the damsel-in-distress act. What she really wanted was another excuse to be near him.
“I’ve never given an interview before, but I guess it’s not that hard.” Jayson’s reluctance seemed to fade the longer he stared back at her.
“Easy as pie. I’ll hold your hand through it,” Monette said, then blushed when he glanced at her. His gaze softened, and all signs of nervousness vanished.
“The hand holding part sounds real good,” Jayson said. His deep voice rumbled across the space between them.
Monette cleared her throat. She hadn’t blushed at anything since puberty. Here she was, feeling her cheeks get warm because of the way a mechanic said the word “good.” This was pure trouble, and man trouble was the worst kind. Her slide back to being a teenager signaled it was time for her to go.
“Guess I better get back.” Monette wiped her hands on a napkin and avoided returning his gaze.
“Wait, I owe you dessert. The bet, remember?” Jayson smiled.
“Oh, right.” Monette liked the way he made her feel special. She smiled back at him and forgot why she needed to rush off.
He went inside and returned minutes later with two ice cream cones. They sat watching weekend traffic and listening to music. Monette studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking. His strong jaw line made his profile a thing of beauty. Sunlight looked good on his skin. She enjoyed the way he tilted his head back to laugh
when she told a joke.
“Look at the time. I’m keeping you from all those engines that need greasing,” she said finally.
Jayson laughed good-naturedly. “You mean oil. I do oil changes, among other things. Yeah, I better get back. Paperwork is my least favorite part of owning a business, but it’s gotta be done.”
They dumped paper plates and other remains of their lunch into a nearby trash can. Since the crowd of customers inside the caf6 had thinned, Lu-Lu came outside again. She called out a jolly goodbye to Monette and Jayson as she wiped down the small tables. Jayson promised they would be back soon. Monette waved to her with a smile and pretended not to pick up on the hint when Jayson looked at her. They exchanged chitchat for the four-block walk back to New Beginnings. When they were still half a block away from the house, they both stopped. Yarva, Candi and Tyeisha were on the front porch talking. Though none of them stared, Monette knew they were paying close attention all the same.
“Thanks for keeping me company. I enjoyed it,” Jayson said. He jammed his hands in both his pants pockets.
“Hey, I got a guest for my show out of the deal and a free po’boy. The pleasure was all mine,” Monette quipped, determined to keep the mood light“Yeah, well.” Jayson looked toward the halfway house. “See ya round.”
“Next Monday, to be exact. Be at the radio station around eight-thirty, ’cause we go on at nine.” Monette started off to the house but stopped when Jayson caught her hand. She looked down at his strong fingers curled around hers and blushed again.
Jayson let go of her and blushed, too. “You promised to hold my hand. I expect you to do just that.”
“Right. Bye.” Monette wondered at the spot of warmth on her skin where he’d touched her. Maybe the spring sunshine had affected her brain or something. She rubbed her palm, and the warmth turned to heat when she looked at him. His eyes held a message of some kind, and it bothered her. One po’boy and an ice cream cone didn’t mean she should be getting all tingly.
“You know where to find me if you have any questions. I’m not goin’ anywhere for at least another year,” she joked, to remind him of who she was, and to remind herself as well. Stardust and moonlight romance only happened in novels.
“Shouldn’t we rehearse or something?” Jayson said, the anxiety back in his dark eyes.
“Hey, you know about cars and operating a business. I’m sure I won’t ask any questions you can’t answer. All you gotta do is show up and be yourself.” Monette waved to him and turned to leave. “You’ll be fine.”
“Maybe you could come up with a list of questions and we could go over them. You know, just in case,” Jayson called to her.
“Not necessary. I’ll ask real easy questions.” Monette walked backwards to keep moving away from him. She needed the distance. Maybe that would help cool some of the heat he seemed capable of generating.
“Okay. Look forward to seeing you again,” Jayson replied. His voice died away when he realized she was walking away quickly.
Monette made sure she didn’t look back at him. She got to the porch and climbed the steps. Yarva stared past her at Jayson, then shot a glance at Candi. Monette sat down in one of two cane rocking chairs without looking at any of the other three women. Candi popped the gum she was chewing.
“Nice weather today,” Tyeisha said to no one in particular.
“Real nice for a romantic stroll,” Yarva replied. “ ’Course we all can’t be so lucky. Ain’t that right, Candi?”
“Shut up,” Candi flung back at her. She pushed the swing harder with both feet.
“I’m just sayin’.” Yarva let out a laugh, then went inside.
“Guess you got plans for tonight,” Candi said after a while.
“Sure, I’m goin’ to a party with a friend. Wanna come?” Monette nudged her with an elbow.
“You sure?” Candi’s eyes lit up.
“Let’s go have some grown-folks fun,” Monette replied.
Chapter 7
The redbrick house on Gracie Street vibrated as two speakers spit out a wild rap tune. Couples bumped against each other, swaying to the beat. Men and women stood around bobbing their heads in time with the music. Cigarette smoke floated over everyone’s head. Monette followed Candi through the living room. Most of the furniture had been taken out One sofa was pushed against a wall. Cheap vinyl dining room chairs of assorted colors were lined against the other three walls, though few people sat on them. Candi greeted several people with a nod. She hugged a woman with flaming red hair piled high on her head.
‘Took you long enough to get here, girl!” the woman said to Candi.
“Hell, we know the good stuff don’t start til nine at the earliest,” Candi shouted back over the noise.
“Damn straight. Go on back and get something to drink.”
Monette tugged on Candi’s arm. “We can’t go back to the house smelling like we’ve been in a juke joint all night.”
“You need to lighten up. We just got here and you already trippin’.” Candi shook her head with a smile.
Before Monette could reply, Candi had walked through a doorway to the next room. Monette started to follow her when a tall muscular man with a lot of tattoos grabbed her by the hand. He pulled Monette onto the makeshift dance floor. The music shifted into another upbeat tune. A few couples retreated for a break, and others took their place. Monette’s dance partner shrugged and flashed his gold teeth as if to say she might as well join the party.
“I’m Trey,” he said, his mouth close to Monette’s ear so she could hear him.
“Nice to meet you, but—” Monette started to turn away, but he stopped her.
“I’m the sensitive type, so don’t hurt my feelings. Just this one dance.” Trey did a clever dance step, then gracefully spun around in a full circle before he faced her again.
Monette had to laugh at his antics. He looked about thirty years old. After weeks of dealing with heavy issues, Monette decided that maybe Candi was right “Hi, Trey. I’m Monette. Don’t expect me to top those moves. I’m way out of practice.”
“It’s all gonna be good.” Trey grinned back.
Trey shook his body from side to side and held out one hand. Monette took it. She matched his rhythm until they were both into the music. She’d forgotten how much fun dancing at a house party could be. A deejay made sure the compact disc player kept going. After about ten minutes Monette waved to Trey that she’d had enough. Her legs ached from the effort to keep up with him. She fanned her face with one hand and looked around the room. Candi leaned against a wall, talking to a man wearing a black cap pushed back on his head. They seemed engrossed in each other. The redheaded woman tapped Monette on the shoulder.
“Come on. I’ll hook you up.” She nodded toward another part of the house.
“Nah, I’m good.” Monette shook her head.
“Candi said I’m to take care of you. C’mon, ain’t nuthin’ illegal goin’ down. We strict legit tonight. I’m Faye.” The woman pulled Monette along with her.
Monette looked over her shoulder at Candi, who waved cheerfully while the man nuzzled her neck. “Aw, hell,” she mumbled.
Faye led her through what looked like the dining room, though the table was gone and the chairs were pushed against the walls. They entered the kitchen, which was packed with people standing around eating from paper plates. Bottles of malt liquor and beer, some empty, covered a countertop.
“Get offa my breakfast bar, fool.” Faye slapped the arm of a woman sitting on the counter with a young man standing between her legs.
“What kinda hostess treats her guest like that, huh?” the young woman protested. She giggled, wrapped her legs around the man, and let him carry her off. They disappeared down a dimly lit hallway.
“You got any cola?” Monette asked Faye.
“Baby, I only bought soft drinks to mix with the liquor. Why don’t I fix you a rum and cola?” Faye winked at her.
“No, thanks. I’ll pay for a can of Coke.�
� Monette smiled at her but kept her tone firm.
Faye lifted a shoulder. “If that’s how you get your groove on.”
Monette felt someone at her back. She spun around to find Trey smiling down at her. “Hi.”
“Hello again. You’re even prettier than I thought.” Trey cocked his head to one side and stroked his chin. His full-body examination took sixty seconds. When his lips parted in a smile, light from the bare bulb overhead bounced off his gold crowns.
“Thanks.” Monette took a can of soda from Faye. She did not smile back at him or return his gaze. Trey missed the subtle cue.
Trey gave Faye a nod. “Hit me with some of that Cutty Sark. Give the lady anything she wants.”
“Awright. Don’t worry about the budget tonight, girlfriend. Just point and I’ll pour.” Faye glanced at Monette with a grin.
“I’m good.” Monette lifted the can to her lips and took a drink. She watched another couple drift down the hallway.
“Listen, my Escalade is parked outside. We could kick it at a real tight place. There’s this club called The Night Hawk. The members-only section upstairs is class act all the way.” Trey looked at Monette, clearly expecting her to be impressed.
“Damn, I wanna go and this is my party. If she ain’t interested, talk to me,” Faye interrupted with a cackle. She handed Trey a dollar store glass with Cutty Sark in it.
Monette sighed. She felt too old for this particular mating game. “Sorry, I’ve got to be somewhere by midnight.”
“Whazzup, Cinderella? Don’t tell me you gone turn into a pumpkin when the clock strikes twelve,” Trey joked.
“Not exactly. I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t.” Monette glanced at her wristwatch. Candi strolled in with the man she’d been talking to all night.
“Hey, girl.” Candi wore a giddy grin that tugged up the right comer of her mouth. ‘Told you this would be a helluva fun place.”
“Let me talk to you a minute. You mind?” Monette said to Candi’s companion.
“Gotta find the bathroom anyway. Y’all go on with your girl talk.” The short, stocky man slid away, pulling up his low-slung jeans as he walked.
