by Pat Simmons
"The wino got behind the wheel of a car, ran over my dear husband, and left him dying in the street like a dog. He should be locked behind bars, waiting in the Catholic's purgatory, sitting on the hot seat in hell, and swimming in the lake of fire and grindstone," Mrs. Beacon said, snarling.
Hallison corrected, "I think that's fire and brimstone."
"Whatever. Same neighborhood," Mrs. Beacon barked.
"Unfortunately, you both should be in jail," Cheney said.
Mrs. Beacon grunted. "If God can't understand my reason for an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a bullet for a body...." She turned to Hallison and dared her to argue. "Then I don't want to be saved."
As the mediator, Hallison had heard enough. Cheney was near tears while Mrs. Beacon's nostrils flared. Hallison cleared her throat. "This is a reconciliation meeting, remember?"
Sipping lemonade, Mrs. Beacon smacked her lips and sighed. "It is. I've reconciled that God doesn't work for me. Otherwise, He would've held me back."
"That's where you're wrong. Sometimes, free will gets you in trouble. Ask Adam and Eve, ask David and Samson, and ask me," Hallison said.
Chapter Fifteen
Malcolm escorted his guest up the sidewalk to his parents' home. This would be the first time his family would meet Lisa. Although he re-entered the dating pool a few months after he and Hallison broke up, he'd never bothered introducing them to any other acquaintances after Hallison. Things were different with Lisa. He had found a jewel, and he wanted to show her off.
"I thought you said it was a block party," she mumbled as guests spilled out the door to the front lawn.
"Nope. I said a Black party where everything from the food, games, and attire have an African theme. Of all days, you didn't wear one of your little hot black outfits." He saw her confidence slip. Lisa was an impeccable dresser, whether casual or business. "I guarantee your skirt will flirt with every male here and those heels..." Malcolm smacked his lips. "Woman, your calves and toes are a man's weakness. You're gorgeous."
She smiled at the compliment. "Malcolm, I don't try to impress men. If they're threatened by my intelligence and independence, then they need testosterone injections. It's your family I want to impress."
Winking, Malcolm squeezed her hand. "You'll easily accomplish your mission."
"Thank you. Now tell me about this party."
"It's part of our family's Juneteenth celebration. Next to our monthly family nights, which are filled with Afrocentric games and dialogue, I wouldn't miss this for anything."
"Ah, that's right, June 19, 1863."
"Not quite. President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation in January 1863. The Galveston slaves didn't get the news until June 1865. Major General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston, Texas, and read the General Order Number 3."
"Is your mind always this sharp?" Lisa wrinkled her nose in a flirt.
"My family and I live and breathe history. So you're familiar with the celebration?"
"I'm a florist. It's my job to know every local, national, and ethnic holiday."
"Just a job?" he queried, giving her his full attention.
"Like you, I study my craft." Lisa frowned when something brushed up against her shoe as they entered the house. Looking down, she blinked in surprise. "I've seen everything... but a poodle wearing a green and gold plaid Kente tutu?" They chuckled.
White, Asian, and other nationalities, wrapped in their expressive African attires, mingled with no hint of awkwardness. For it to be a Black event, they outnumbered African American guests.
"We do have a tendency of going overboard. We discovered this Black-owned business that specialized in Afro-centric themed characters for kids' parties, so we purchased their products for Kami's birthday party and some of our get-togethers. It's important for us to return more than five cents of every dollar back into the Black community. We try to find one Black-owned company a month to patronize for the life of their business. Of course the service has to be impeccable. Michelle Baptiste at Afro Party House loves us."
"Then you understand my plight to expand Gertie's Garden's business."
He nodded.
"Good. Would I be right to assume I have you for the life of my business?"
"Oh, you got me, baby; for sure." Gripping her tighter around the waist, Malcolm steered around friends. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Rubin, I'm glad you two could make it," Malcolm greeted, then introduced Lisa.
Mr. Rubin laughed. "How long have we known you, Parke?" Oblivious of the wrong son, he pressed on. "We haven't missed a pre-Juneteenth celebration since you were a teenager. Besides," he confided, leaning closer, "your mom and dad always request tickets for the Rosh Hashanah at my temple." He patted Malcolm's back. "See you around, Parke."
Lisa nudged Malcolm. "Why didn't you correct him?"
He shrugged. "It wouldn't do any good. People have always had trouble telling us apart, but clearly I'm better looking."
"Can you spell conceited?"
"Nope. Can't say I've seen that word on a vocabulary list."
"Your family celebrates the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah?"
"Yep. Currently, June on the Jewish calendar is Sivan 5769. We also celebrate part of the month-long celebration of the Chinese New Year with our Asian friends who celebrate everyone's birthdays during that month. These parties are the norm for us."
"What about Hali? Was this normal for her, too?"
Where did that question come from? "Lisa, whether we're together or not, I don't want to talk about old girlfriends."
"Although I don't lack confidence, I'm wondering about our similarities and differences because I want nothing less than all of you."
"There's no comparison."
"Good. I'm glad we're of one mind because ... Malcolm, who is the woman in that dazzling green and gold outfit? She's gorgeous with that crown on her head."
He followed her eyes. "Oh, Nefertiti? That's my mom. C'mon. I want you to meet her." Sneaking up behind his mother, Malcolm wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek.
Startled, Charlotte Jamieson twirled around, laughing. "It's about time you arrived. Your niece has been asking about you," she scolded in her sing-song voice, then turned to Lisa and waited for an introduction.
"Momma," Malcolm said, pulling his date closer, "this is Lisa; Lisa, this is my mother—"
"And his father," Parke V's rich baritone interrupted as he approached.
"Lisa, welcome to our Black party. Don't be shy. Make sure you sample a little bit of this and that. You'll love the braai, which is a South African-style barbeque topped with boerewors, a spicy sausage," Charlotte explained.
Parke V squeezed his wife's shoulder. "That's Charlotte's favorite. All the African dishes are delicious with their blend of spices. Some have as many as thirty," he said and winked at Charlotte. He extended his hand to Lisa and she accepted the shake.
"Okay." Lisa displayed a polite grin. "I will. Thank you, Mrs. Jamieson."
Although Malcolm's parents were cordial to Lisa, their welcome was dismal in comparison to their initial reaction to Hallison. They had loved Hallison almost instantly, and the feeling was mutual. His mother didn't extend an invitation for Lisa to call her by her first name, something she had automatically offered to Hallison. Malcolm decided not to make it an issue. He reached behind his mother and picked up two drinks from a table.
"My son tells us you have a unique family legacy," his father queried.
Accepting a cup from Malcolm, Lisa nodded before sampling the contents. Malcolm stuffed one hand in his pants pocket as he took a gulp. He waited for Lisa's reaction. Moments later, she blinked at the sweet concoction.
"That's Tej, made with honey from the beekeepers in Ethiopia," Charlotte offered.
He sensed Lisa was overwhelmed with information he had learned as easily as his ABC's. Clearing his throat, he came to her rescue. "Why don't you tell them about Gertie's Garden?"
"I would like to think it'
s unique. In the early 1900s, family businesses were commonplace. My great-grandmother found a niche to provide for her children, and she uncovered a simple talent, using the fruits of Mother Nature, and it turned into a lucrative business. Since none of my cousins were interested in the floral industry, it was a no-brainer for me to step in, and I didn't have to start from scratch. I want to tweak my great-grandmother's perfection."
Fascinated and impressed, Malcolm's parents gave Lisa their full attention. When his mother's face became animated, Malcolm knew Lisa had won them over. "Lisa, pardon my ignorance, but how is the floral business doing in our non-official bad economy?"
"I'm still in business. I drive a Lexus, provide health insurance for my employees, and have long-term contracts from major businesses in the area. From my point of view, I won't go hungry."
Charlotte was visibly in awe. "I guess you don't have much overhead."
"Quite the contrary. The coolers I use to store the flowers cost about ten thousand dollars apiece. The life of some flowers is short. As a result of the high cost to maintain a perishable inventory, some florists won't survive. Our biggest competitors are grocery store chains that sell everything from produce to patio furniture. Anyone can grab a bouquet at the checkout, not knowing its sell-by date. When consumers value fresh flowers and original designs, they come to Gertie's Garden," she pitched before turning to Malcolm. "We get a feel for the recipient's personality to create the perfect arrangement."
Malcolm discarded his cup and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. "Really?" His eyes twinkled. "What did you read into my personality for the flowers you sent me?"
She lifted her face to the sun, thinking. "Hmm. you need a lot of attention." She turned and held his stare. "You were worth every petal."
His parents exchanged cautious, but pleased expressions.
"Mrs. Jamieson, please feel free to come into my store anytime, and I'll create something for your home—exotic, just like the lady of the house—my treat. If you don't have time, I encourage trying the FTD service online. What you see is what you should get if you jot down the item number. It keeps families, especially during bereavement, from receiving the same plant three or four times."
"I never thought about that. I usually pick up the phone, tell the clerk how much I want to spend, and leave the rest up to them." His mother waved at a few guests. For one moment, Charlotte's eyes trailed one couple adorned in colorful unisex attire. Realizing her rudeness, she returned to their conversation. "Sorry, Lisa. Please call me Charlotte, and I'll be happy to recommend Gertie's Garden to my circle of friends and use your business as my sole supplier of floral purchases."
Malcolm listened with pride as his new woman wrapped his parents around her finger. Two down and two more to go. Malcolm wasn't worried about Parke. They always had each other's back. Cheney, on the other hand, might be a hard sell since she and Hallison had the girlfriends' allegiance thing going on. If he hadn't personally introduced them, he'd have believed they were born on the same day and grew up in the same house. Cheney professed to be a Christian, so she shouldn't have any problem accepting Lisa as the new lady in his life.
He tugged on Lisa's hand. "Time's up, Mom, Dad. There are other people I want Lisa to meet."
Malcolm lost track of the number of guests Lisa enthralled with her beauty, wit, and intelligence. He had made a wise choice. Thank you, Hallison Dinkins. They were heading toward Parke and Cheney when his niece spotted him.
"Uncle Malcolm! Uncle Malcolm," Kami shouted as she barreled into him. Picking her up, he kissed her cheek until she giggled. Secure in his arms, Kami talked nonstop, "I saw my Mommy's stomach move. She's says that our baby is stretching."
"I know." He grinned.
Lisa smiled at the same time Kami seemed to noticed her. "Aren't you cute? How old are you?"
"I'm three, how old are you?"
Malcolm frowned as Lisa gasped. She recovered. "I'm thirty-seven."
Kami tilted her head, thinking. "You look older than Uncle Malcolm." She squinted. "He's thirty-three."
Embarrassed, Malcolm squeezed his niece. "Kami! That's not nice."
She pointed to Lisa. "BB told me to always tell the truth and to call it like I see it." She glanced again at Malcolm's date. Cupping her small hands, she whispered loudly. "I don't like her, Uncle Malcolm. She's evil. Auntee is nice."
"Stop it, Kami. What is wrong with you?" Malcolm slightly shook her as his anger began to rise.
The toddler frowned and stared at Lisa. "But Uncle Malcolm, I don't like her."
Shocked at the outburst, Malcolm snarled. "Listen, little girl, you did not learn to act like that from your parents. Say you're sorry."
Kami shook her head. "BB said to call it like I see it."
"I should've left that woman in jail," Malcolm mumbled.
Lisa held up her hands. "It's okay. I don't have children, so naturally they don't warm up to me quickly."
"I don't know what's wrong with her. Usually, she's very affectionate." He turned to Kami. "I still might spank you later."
"No!" Wiggling out of his arms, she raced toward her parents. Malcolm yelled for her to come back, but she ignored him.
"That niece of mine, I feel like putting her on punishment for the rest of her life."
Lisa laughed uncomfortably. "I'm sure she's harmless. Don't worry about it."
Still fuming, Malcolm linked their fingers and resumed their trek toward his brother, who was standing near a stone figurine of a woman pouring water into a basin. Malcolm had helped his father install the water fountain the previous summer. "Once again, Lisa, I apologize."
Parke was sipping a drink with Kami stationed at her father's side. Cheney watched their approach as she gently rubbed her stomach. Malcolm debated being a tattletale, but concocted the perfect payback, eating a double scoop of bubblegum ice cream in front of her before her bedtime. He gave Kami a mischievous grin. "Parke, Cheney, I'd like for you to meet Lisa Nixon."
After Malcolm told them about Lisa's profession, Parke asked, "So, how is business? I guess it has slowed down since Mother's Day."
"Not really. There're always funerals and weddings to keep us busy, and Cheney, we do adorable arrangements for baby showers."
"Hmm. I wish I'd known. I've already had a baby shower," Cheney responded, looking away.
Malcolm had a soft spot for his sister-in-law. Everyone's plan to give Cheney more baby showers were on hold. Cheney's mother blamed it on the scandal Mrs. Beacon brought on the family. Cheney declined Mrs. Beacon's offer for a sassy senior shower, and asked Parke's parents to wait until after the baby was born to host their shower. Malcolm had thought it was too early to have a baby shower anyway. She was now seven months pregnant, and the craziness was still going on. That baby shower was the first time he had seen Hallison in months.
Since dating Lisa, Hallison seemed to pop up everywhere—the mall, the Old Courtroom—looking good, and he was pretty sure that was her in The Loop with another woman. He didn't want to think about Hallison. Lisa was on his arm now and in his life. Her unpretentious personality won everyone over except Kami, who didn't count.
Charlotte reappeared and stole Lisa to introduce her to some of her friends. Parke used the opportunity to pull Malcolm aside. "She's definitely pretty. Hali—"
"I don't want to hear Hali's name," Malcolm cut him off.
Parke squinted, silently assessing his brother. "Ever again?"
"Never."
Parke's shock turned into disappointment, then shifted to compliance. "As you wish."
Then Malcolm confronted Cheney. "Before I leave, what's going on in your pretty little head?"
"I'm happy if you're happy. Not really, but I respect whomever you choose to have in your life," Cheney replied.
Crossing his arms, Malcolm snickered. "Okay, what do you really think?"
"She ain't Hali."
"That's exactly what I want," Malcolm mumbled as Lisa walked up to his side with her eyes sparkling.
His nostrils flared in appreciation.
Parke had kept an eye on his brother as Lisa taste-tested several samples, then finger-fed Malcolm the remains. The chemistry did seem to exist between them.
"God, help me to be objective," Parke mumbled, then turned to his wife. "Hey, baby, what do you think about Malcolm's new brains and beauty?"
"God, help us," Cheney said, shifting her body as the baby made a rolling lunge for the second time in minutes. "There is so much going on in my life right now, Parke. I've got Daddy's admission to a homicide, Grandma BB's revenge, and Hallison's replacement. I don't even want to add my hormones into the mix."
"I know, baby," Parke whispered as he rubbed her arms. "I love my brother, but I love Hali just as much as a sister, and I'm not referring to just the body of Christ. You would think God would've rewarded Hali for being obedient without understanding why she had to sacrifice Malcolm for her salvation. I wish they'd made it because it appears Malcolm got the cookie out the cookie jar, and it isn't Hallison flavored."
"Well, I guess it's official." Cheney sighed. "Malcolm's moved on."
Parke folded his arms. He purposely exercised his bulging biceps to amuse his wife. "I'm not buying it. It's not as if he hasn't dated since his breakup. I give Malcolm's fling fifteen days, tops."
"I'm not seeing temporary in Malcolm’s or Lisa's eyes at all."
Chapter Sixteen
“What?" Hallison was unprepared for the news pouring through the phone. Why is it that one person's happiness causes another person's sadness?
"The same God who blessed me has the power to bless you, too." Paula was bursting with news. "Unbeknownst to me, while I attended that church fellowship a few weeks ago for the Word, the Lord sent a man. Through hordes of worshippers, Emmanuel Washington noticed me as he was leaving that first night. For the next three nights, Emmanuel was persistent in finding me again.
