“That’s good, but I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
“I thought you made your point without totally blowing a gasket. Look, these media types forget that these situations involve real people with real feelings. She was baiting you. You rolled the hook around in your mouth for a few seconds but didn’t swallow it.”
“I guess I shouldn’t come around for a while,” Luke replied.
“No, you’re welcome anytime.”
The chatty occupational therapist finished taking notes after a thorough inspection of Aunt Josie’s house. Adisa scribbled down notes of the therapist’s suggestions. Off and on during the visit, the older woman apologized that her home wasn’t sparkling clean.
“Ms. Adams, if my house looked this nice, I’d invite my mother-in-law over for coffee and pastries,” the young woman said with a smile. “I know your niece was taking notes, but I’ll send you a copy of my report as soon as it’s finished.”
“I’ll get in touch with someone tomorrow to install the items she needs in the bathroom,” Adisa said. “And it’s good to know you don’t recommend a ramp in front.”
“So long as she doesn’t try to climb the steps without assistance.”
“She’s not escaping on my watch,” Adisa replied.
After the therapist left, Aunt Josie returned to her place on the sofa. “It doesn’t take much to wear me out,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t have the energy to fix supper.”
“For now, I’m your chef,” Adisa said with a smile. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll whip it up.”
“A nice soup would be good,” she said. “And that would give me something to eat for leftovers.”
“Chicken noodle?” Adisa asked. “I know there’s chicken in the freezer, and I can use the pressure cooker.”
“I only use thighs for soup,” Aunt Josie began. “The dark meat has more flavor.”
“I agree. Tell me what else you want to include, and I’ll make a quick trip to the store.”
Five minutes later, Adisa pulled into the parking lot at the supermarket. She was picking out a fresh bunch of celery stalks when her phone rang. It was the number at Aunt Josie’s house. Adisa quickly pressed the receive button.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“No, I don’t have enough of the seasoning mix I use in my chicken soups. You know the brand I like.”
“Where are you?” Adisa asked.
“In the kitchen at my spice cabinet. But I used the walker and didn’t use the step stool to look at the top shelf of the cabinet. The seasoning mix was right where I could see it.”
“Okay, I’ll get some,” Adisa replied. “And don’t scare me by calling me like that.”
“But we need that mix for the soup.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The call ended. If Adisa was going to live in the same house with Aunt Josie, she was going to have to channel her aunt’s desires and preferences and temporarily adopt them as her own. As she made her way down the spice aisle, she saw a familiar figure standing in front of the shelves. It was Reggie. He turned and saw her.
“Hey,” he called out as a big smile creased his face.
Adisa pushed her cart forward. “How’s Deshaun today?” she asked.
“Stable in ICU. And I saw that your aunt was discharged. How is she doing?”
“Glad to be home.”
Reggie pointed to the rows of spices. “Can you give me some advice? Except for an occasional rack of ribs, I’m not much of a cook, but I was going to try to make spaghetti.”
“From scratch?” Adisa asked.
“I found a five-star recipe,” Reggie said as he held up his phone so she could see the screen, “but I can’t figure out which type of Italian seasoning it’s talking about.”
Adisa glanced at the list and then the shelf of spices. “Either one of these would work,” she said, pointing to two placed side by side.
Reggie selected one and put it in a basket he was carrying with him. “What’s for supper at your house?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m making chicken noodle soup to celebrate.”
“Did you find someone to stay with your aunt while you’re at work?”
“Not yet.”
“I prepared a list of five candidates if you’re interested. Three of them attend the church, and the other two are family members of people I know well.”
“Thanks,” Adisa said. “We need to move on that immediately. I can’t leave her alone for more than an hour or two at a time. Why don’t you save your spaghetti experiment for another day and join Aunt Josie and me for soup?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Adisa said. “Look, I’m tired of acting like an eighth grader whose feelings were hurt on the playground. You’re entitled to your opinion about my involvement in Officer Nelson’s criminal case, and even if we disagree, it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“I agree,” Reggie replied with a broad smile. “Except I was the eighth grader. Should you call your aunt and make sure it’s okay for me to show up unannounced?”
“She’d be mad if she found out I ran into you and didn’t invite you over.”
“My grandmother made the best chicken noodle soup. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Hold on. If you’re going to measure what I fix against some ideal that’s impossible to meet, I’d rather not—”
“No, no. Don’t worry. I’ve done enough marital counseling to know a man’s an idiot if he unfavorably compares his wife’s banana pudding with what his mother made.”
Reggie returned the Italian seasoning to its place on the shelf and walked beside Adisa through the store. All their previous interaction had focused on intense, serious situations, and Adisa enjoyed the casual stroll down the aisles. Reggie pointed out some of the things he liked to eat.
At Aunt Josie’s house, Reggie parked on the street and Adisa pulled into the driveway. She got out of her car and heard someone call her name.
“Adisa!”
Walter and Mary Broome were standing on the stoop in front of their house. Mary motioned for her to come closer. Adisa glanced at Reggie.
“I’m about to fix supper!” Adisa said, holding up the plastic grocery sacks.
Mary pointed at Reggie and nodded her head approvingly.
“Aunt Josie came home from the hospital this morning!” Adisa continued.
Walter and Mary came down the steps and headed in their direction. Reggie caught up to Adisa, who whispered to him, “Do you know the Broomes? They go to Aunt Josie’s church.”
“No, but I think I’m about to meet them.”
“Be prepared for the gossip about you being here to boomerang to your church by Sunday morning.”
“Fine with me.”
Adisa allowed herself a split second to enjoy the compliment. Reggie transitioned to his best ministerial persona and greeted the older couple.
“Oh, we’ve heard all about you and the good work you’re doing,” Mary said. “And we appreciate you leading the fight to make sure something is done to punish the officer who shot Deshaun.”
“The district attorney will see to that,” Reggie said, glancing at Adisa. “My job is to make sure the public’s voice is heard.”
“Come in and say hello to Aunt Josie,” Adisa said, wanting to change the subject. “That is, if she isn’t napping. The trip from the hospital wore her out.”
The Broomes followed Adisa and Reggie into the house. Aunt Josie was awake. Mary gave her a hug and burst into tears. Adisa and Reggie took the groceries into the kitchen. For all her nosiness, Mary loved Aunt Josie. Walter stood back with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Cut it out,” Aunt Josie said to Mary. “I’m home. That’s cause for celebration.”
“That’s what these are for,” Mary said as she grabbed a tissue from a box on the end table next to the sofa. “It’s so good to see you in your house surrounded by your plants.”
“And Adisa.” Aunt Josie motio
ned to the kitchen where Reggie and Adisa were sorting out the groceries.
“I have a thousand questions to ask you,” Mary said, “but I’ll save those for tomorrow. When would be a good time to come over? I’d be glad to sit with you for a while so Adisa can take a break.”
“That would be wonderful,” Aunt Josie answered. “Adisa has taken a job with Theo Grayson’s law firm and needs to go back to work on Monday.”
“That settles it, then,” Mary answered. “I’ll be here at eight Monday morning and stay as long as you need me. Come on, Walter.”
Walter shook Reggie’s hand and gave Adisa a knowing smile. The Broomes left.
“Did you see what else I picked up at the grocery store?” Adisa asked, sticking her head out of the kitchen so she had an unobstructed view of Aunt Josie.
“Yes, I did, and that’s another answer to prayer. Reggie, come in here and sit with me while Adisa fixes the soup.”
Reggie joined Adisa in the kitchen doorway. “If it’s okay, I’ll stay in here and help. We can talk while we eat.”
“Suit yourself,” Aunt Josie said with a wave of her hand.
“I don’t mind,” Adisa said. “The kitchen is small, and there’s not much prep work to do.”
“I’m great at cutting carrots,” Reggie replied. “I can even peel them if you have one of those peeler things.”
Working together, they managed to load the pressure cooker in less than ten minutes. Reggie’s carrot-peeling skills were crude but adequate. He did better with the onions and didn’t shed a tear.
“Those onions are making me cry over here,” Adisa said as she poured in the chicken broth and measured the different spices.
“I’m immune,” Reggie answered. “It was a job my grandmother always gave me when I was a kid.”
Adisa sealed the lid and set the cooker on the stove. “Thirty minutes until supper,” she said.
They joined Aunt Josie in the living room. She was looking at the local newspaper.
“You didn’t go outside to pick up the newspaper, did you?” Adisa asked in alarm.
“No, Walter brought it in.” Aunt Josie managed to turn the page with her left hand. “Here’s your name.”
“Don’t read that now,” Adisa said quickly.
“Not your name,” Aunt Josie said. “It’s about Reggie.”
“Is that the article about the outreach our church is doing at the youth detention center?” he asked.
Aunt Josie nodded. “But I’d rather hear about it from you in person,” she said.
Reggie told them how they were pairing up boys in trouble with men in his congregation for supervised activities. Soon the timer went off for the pressure cooker.
“It should cool for a few minutes,” Adisa said as she got up. “You keep talking, and I’ll listen.”
Reggie pulled out his phone. “There’s not much more to tell, but I’ve come up with a list of possible sitters who are either members of my congregation or recommendations through my contacts.”
Adisa listened as Reggie discussed the candidates with Aunt Josie. It was obvious he’d taken her interests and personality into consideration. Several of the women were avid gardeners. When they sat down to eat, he prayed a beautiful prayer for Aunt Josie. Adisa waited and watched while he took his first spoonful of soup. He kept it in his mouth longer than necessary before swallowing. He took another bite, this time with a juicy piece of chicken surrounded by golden broth.
“Well?” Adisa asked impatiently. “How is it?”
“Whoever cut up the carrots could have made them smaller.”
“That was you.” Adisa smiled. “What about the flavor?”
Reggie ate another bite. “It’s almost good enough to make me forget my grandmother’s soup.”
Aunt Josie’s first bite didn’t make it cleanly to her mouth and most of the soup ended up back in the bowl. When she saw what happened, Adisa immediately moved her chair closer.
“Let me help you.”
After they finished supper, Aunt Josie returned to her spot on the sofa.
“I’m not long for this day,” she said as she sat down. “My own bed is calling my name, and I’m looking forward to answering.”
“And I’d better go,” Reggie said. “Let me know when you want to interview some of the ladies who might be able to help.”
“The sooner the better,” Adisa responded. “Send me their contact information and I’ll follow up.”
“Don’t send those two I marked off,” Aunt Josie said.
“I made a note of that,” Reggie answered. “Thanks again for supper.”
“Walk him out to the car,” Aunt Josie said. “But before you do, get Shanika on the phone.”
Shanika knew Aunt Josie was coming home from the hospital. As soon as her sister answered, Adisa handed the phone to Aunt Josie.
“Yes, she’s feeding me,” Adisa heard Aunt Josie say a moment later. “We had homemade chicken noodle soup. It was scrumptious.”
Adisa followed Reggie to the door. “Shanika doesn’t have a lot of confidence in my cooking,” she said as they stepped outside.
“From what I’ve heard, you’ve been surprising your sister for a long time.”
“Who have you been talking to?”
Reggie motioned to the interior of the house. “She doesn’t have the best filter,” Adisa said.
“Honesty I can accept, and the truth is an ally. I wanted to know about you, and she was my best source.”
Adisa was flattered. They walked down the steps to the driveway and stopped. She looked at the Broome house. Neither Walter nor Mary was in sight.
“Thanks for not outing me with the Broomes about the Nelson case,” she said. “I’m still working on my stump speech to explain why I’m a traitor to my race.”
Reggie shook his head. “I stepped over the line the other day at the hospital,” he said. “When I have strong feelings or beliefs, I let them out. It’s probably not the best trait for a minister, but it’s how I’m wired. Talking to your aunt about that helped me, too.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing that convinced me I was wrong, but our conversation helped me understand you better.”
“So we’re stuck in the place of agreeing to disagree,” she said.
“Yes,” Reggie replied and then paused. “But with a twist.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m not going to tolerate anyone criticizing you in my presence for agreeing to represent Officer Nelson.”
Adisa felt a lump rise in her throat. “That’s sweet,” she managed. “What are you going to say when it happens?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But as soon as it’s ready, I’d like to hear your stump speech. Maybe that will give me a few ideas.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
LUKE WAS CLEANING the kitchen after supper when the phone rang. It was Theo Grayson.
“I should have called you yesterday,” the lawyer said, “but it was late when Adisa and I returned to the office from the courthouse, and I’ve been out of town most of today. We met with Judge Andrews about the next steps in the case.”
Grayson told Luke about the judge’s decision and directives. Partway through the conversation Jane returned to the kitchen, and Luke put the call on speakerphone so she could listen, too.
“I think Adisa is right about hiring experts to assist in the preparation of our defense,” Grayson said. “But there will be expense involved that you need to consider and discuss with Jane.”
“Do it!” Jane said into the receiver. “Whatever it takes!”
“Hold on,” Luke said. “He hasn’t even given us an idea of what he’s talking about. And in another month we’re going to have to use our home equity to pay our bills.”
“I talked to my mother, Mr. Grayson,” Jane cut in. “And she’s going to help with any expenses. She was blown away by your generosity in taking the case without charging an attorney fee. Hire the best people you can. That’s w
hat Luke deserves.”
“Adisa is researching candidates,” Grayson replied. “And we’ll make sure the cost is reasonable. You will be consulted before we retain anyone.”
“Just fight as hard as you can,” Jane responded.
The call ended. Luke looked at Jane.
“No,” she said.
Luke didn’t speak. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips, twice.
“The first one is for you, the second for your mother,” he said. “She’ll have to settle for a peck on the cheek the next time I see her.”
Adisa called Aunt Josie for the third time. It was the first day that Simone, a woman from Reggie’s church, was staying at the house. Aunt Josie was laughing when she answered the phone.
“What’s so funny?” Adisa asked.
“Simone is telling me stories about her twins,” Aunt Josie said. “Even though they’re older than Keisha and Kendal, we need to get the four of them together the next time Shanika brings the family to see me.”
“That may be this coming weekend,” Adisa replied. “The one question she had was whether you were up to seeing the kids or not.”
Aunt Josie was silent for a moment. “I’d love to say yes, but I’d better not,” the older woman replied. “Keisha loves to jump on me and won’t understand that I’m not ready for that kind of play.”
“That’s what Shanika and I thought, but we wanted to leave the decision up to you. It’ll do Ronnie good to corral all three of them and appreciate what Shanika deals with twenty-four/seven.”
“Yes, although Ronnie Jr. worships him. Speaking of worship, you can take Shanika with you to Reggie’s church on Sunday. That will give her a chance to meet him.”
“Are you sure you want to put those ideas in her head?” Adisa asked, rolling her eyes. “She’ll torment me.”
“Too late,” Aunt Josie replied. “Shanika knows all about Reggie. That’s given us something new to talk about.”
A Time to Stand Page 27
