Eat, Drink, and Be From Mississippi

by Nanci Kincaid

  “Sorry about that, man.” Arnold stuck out his hand. “I just wasn’t expecting no brother. I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

  “No problem.”

  “This the prison yard over here.” He stepped to the table where he had been working and sat down. Terrance pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

  “One thing,” Arnold said. “Don’t think nothing about her saying you handsome. Courtney tell everybody they handsome.”

  While Terrance set out to work with his resistant student, Courtney busied herself making a pot of chili. When Truely got home she would tell him already she could see that they needed to change the location of these study sessions. She was going to suggest that next time Arnold meet Terrance at the City College library — or any other library. It couldn’t hurt Arnold to get comfortable in a library — demystify the place. Truely had once tried to tell Courtney that these days if you had the Internet you might not need the library anymore — but she wasn’t buying that.

  By the time Truely came home Terrance was gone. Courtney related the afternoon’s events to Truely, word for word. “Arnold thought it was a plot or something,” she explained. “Can you believe that? He actually thinks I’m all about tricking him.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Truely was distracted, his mind still on the latest collaboration he and Jaxon had had with their furniture designer. He’d brought home a fistful of revised sketches that he was anxious to study.

  “I wish it were that simple, True. The truth is if I thought I could trick Arnold into things that are good for him, I would,” she confessed.

  “I guess he knows that,” Truely said.

  DESPITE HIS OCCASIONAL RESISTANCE Courtney went at Arnold’s pursuit of the GED with the same exuberant dedication that she brought to nearly everything she did. Her secondary goal was to keep him motivated — materially speaking. She had taken a cue from Truely’s attempts to bribe him with use of his truck. It became a point of pride with her. She set up a hierarchy of unabashed bribes. Phone cards, CDs, DVDs and the questionable audiobooks (those that earned her seal of approval only), iPod downloads, movie tickets, museum passes, shopping trips, and most recently, the two top-tier bribes — money to send home to Vonnie and his grandmother and a Sunday-afternoon Forty-niners game.

  Littleton Properties had had a skybox at Candlestick Park for years which Hastings offered to his business associates and clients as incentive or thanks. The first few years they’d owned the box Hastings and Courtney had rarely missed a game, and Truely had been to his share too, but in more recent years they had only rarely ever gone to any games. Instead Hastings routinely offered the box to a long list of corporate people who doubled as enthusiastic football fans. Courtney had assumed Arnold might fall into the latter category. But she was only partly right.

  “The Forty-niners?” he’d said hesitantly. “Y’all got a box at the Raiders’ stadium?”

  “No,” she’d said. “Just the Forty-niners.”

  “Too bad,” he’d complained.

  “What?” Courtney asked. “You’re too good for the Forty-niners?”

  “No,” he said. “But I been a Raider fan all my life. Down home people follow the Chargers — but not me. I always liked the Raiders.”

  Courtney checked the schedule and found the date the Raiders were playing the Forty-niners at Candlestick. She called Littleton Properties and reserved the date so that Hastings wouldn’t promise that particular game to anyone else. Arnold had to finish a notebook of grammar exercises — and take a social studies comprehension essay test — before she was satisfied. But when all was said and done Truely thought Courtney was looking forward to the game almost as much as Arnold was. She had always been a reasonably enthusiastic — if uninformed — football fan.

  DESPITE COURTNEY’S RAISED EYEBROW, Arnold dressed himself in black Raiders garb, including a bunch of chains and a spiked dog collar he had bought from a street vendor. He tied a Raiders bandana around his head and another one around one ankle. He put in a rhinestone earring the size of a dime. He had his Raiders ball cap on sideways and his baggy pants hanging off his butt and just generally, to Truely’s way of thinking, looked like a ghetto gangbanger on his way to exercising his right to poor judgment.

  “Let me get this straight,” Truely said. “You’re going to a Forty-niner hospitality suite dressed like rabid Raider fan, no holds barred?”

  “You got to be true to your team, man,” Arnold said proudly. “I ain’t gon leave no doubt who my homies are.”

  “I guess not. You look properly dressed for a good ass-kicking.” Truely was wearing a Forty-niners T-shirt and a requisite ball cap. “On the other hand — we Forty-niner fans are all about subtlety.”

  “That mean boring?” Arnold asked.

  THE THREE OF THEM had the luxury skybox all to themselves through the end of the first quarter. There was enough food and beverage to feed a small army, and they took turns hovering around the buffet table, loading and reloading their plates. The first quarter ended with a 6–3 score, Raiders ahead. Arnold was happy. “I ever tell you that I was a pretty good athlete back in high school?” he said. “For a while it looked like I had a shot at maybe playing college ball — if I could have got my grades together and whatnot. I had the dream back then, man.”

  “Seems like I heard something about that,” Truely said. “What went wrong?”

  “Me,” he said. “I missed my chance. It got away from me.”

  “Too bad,” Truely said.

  “I still love the game though, man. I always be a fan. And that little bit of time when I was dreaming the dream, you know, that was the happiest I ever was.”

  Maybe it’s time you get yourself a new dream then, Truely was just about to say, but he thought better of it. Arnold got enough advice Monday through Friday. He was going to let Sunday be his day of rest.

  WHEN THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN, they barely noticed. A service person coming to replenish ice maybe? But it was the voices of kids that caught them off guard and caused them to turn around and look. Two boys barreled into the skybox with abandon and headed straight for the food table. When they saw Arnold standing there in his all-black attire and chains holding a plate full of meatballs they froze. Right behind them, distracted by intense conversation, came Hastings and Meghan. Courtney, despite her usual composure, let out a small, involuntary gasp when she saw them.

  Truely turned just in time to see the startled look on Hastings’ face. Like a chain reaction, Hastings turned to face Meghan, to reassure her maybe, but by then she had seen Arnold, and Truely thought she actually looked slightly afraid.

  It fell to Truely to break the ice. “Well,” he said, “speak of the devil.” He was trying to be light, of course, since no one had mentioned Hastings’ name all day. If anyone was aiming to represent the devil it was most likely Arnold in his Raiders getup. Truely walked over to shake Hastings’ hand. “What’s up?” he asked. “This is a surprise. We weren’t expecting to see you here today.”

  Hastings looked momentarily startled by the surroundings and events. Meghan went silent and stood behind Hastings almost as though she was trying to hide behind him.

  Seeing the two of them so unexpectedly had silenced Courtney. It took a couple of moments for Courtney to find her voice. “Hastings,” she said. “I called your secretary at Littleton to book the box for today. She told me you wouldn’t be using it.”

  Hastings looked at her a full minute before responding. “She didn’t say you’d called.”

  “We can leave,” Truely offered, “if there’s been some kind of mix-up.”

  “Now?” It was Arnold, registering modest complaint, still jabbing at meatballs with his toothpick.

  “Who’s this?” Hastings asked. Meghan’s two boys were clearly enthralled by this black guy in his gangster garb, wearing his sunglasses indoors. They stood staring at him with obvious interest and caution.

  “This is Arnold.” Courtney walked over and looped her
arm through his.

  Then she thought a second and revised. “Arnold Carter from San Diego.”

  As if on cue, Arnold stepped over to Hastings and stuck out his hand. “How you do, man?”

  Hastings shook his hand mumbling, “Nice to meet you.”

  “You Courtney’s husband?” Arnold asked the obvious.

  “Soon to be ex-husband,” Courtney clarified.

  “This your girlfriend?” Arnold asked, referring to the stricken Meghan.

  “This is Meghan Morehead.” Hastings introduced her. She smiled awkwardly and nodded hello. “And these are her sons, Travis and Taylor. Say hello, guys,” he instructed.

  “Hello,” the boys said in quiet unison.

  “Y’all come in.” Arnold suddenly and inappropriately assumed the role of host. “We got plenty of room in here and plenty of food too. I was wanting to meet Courtney’s husband sometime.”

  “Soon to be ex-husband, Arnold,” Courtney said again, trying to smile at Meghan. Then as an afterthought, she added, “Arnold’s right. Hastings, you and Meghan come in and make yourselves comfortable. We might as well practice civility, right? People get divorced all the time. Doesn’t mean we can’t all be civil.”

  “What’s that thing on your neck?” one of the boys asked Arnold.

  “Dog collar,” he said. “Spikes.”

  “Why you got on a dog collar?” he asked.

  “I’m a Raider fan,” he said. “You heard of the Raider Nation, haven’t you? Why don’t y’all get a plate and get you something to eat.”

  They looked at their mother, seeking the nod of her head, permission to go ahead. Instead she said, “We’re not staying, boys. The box is already occupied.”

  Travis, the older boy, said, “They said we can stay. They don’t care.”

  “We’ll sit outside in the stands,” Hastings announced. “It’s a nice day to sit outside, guys.”

  “Why can’t we just stay here?” Travis asked.

  “Don’t argue with Hastings, Travis,” Meghan scolded.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders and picked up a plate. His younger brother followed suit.

  Hastings cleared his throat and turned to face Meghan. “Babe, why don’t you take the boys and go ahead into the stands. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”

  Babe? Is that what Hastings called Meghan? Truely had never heard Hastings call Courtney babe. He resented it instinctively.

  Meghan looked at Hastings with uncertainty, as though considering whether or not to do as he instructed.

  “It’s okay,” he told her. “I need to talk to Courtney for a minute.”

  Clearly irritated, Meghan looked away from him then and did not make eye contact again as she rounded up the boys — but not before they each loaded a plate with chicken wings and a stack of brownies. “Right now, boys,” she said, “I mean it. Let’s go.”

  Courtney stood beside the door as they left. “I wish you’d reconsider,” she told Meghan. “We’d be happy for you guys to stay.”

  “Maybe next time.” Meghan was hurrying to leave, nudging the boys along.

  After they made their exits Hastings stood awkwardly looking around the skybox in what almost seemed a mild state of confusion. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on a paper napkin, a gesture Truely recognized. It was what he thought of as Hastings’ stalling-for-time routine.

  It was Courtney who spoke up. “Meghan’s boys are darling, Hastings.”

  “They’re good kids,” he agreed.

  “Sorry if they’re disappointed about not watching the game in the box.”

  “No,” he said. “They’ll have plenty of chances to do that.”

  “Can I get you a drink?” Truely asked him. “Diet Coke?”

  “No.” He glanced at Arnold, looked at him for more than a few seconds. “How did you say you guys met?” he asked.

  “It’s a long story.” Courtney smiled at Arnold.

  “I’d like to hear it,” Hastings said. “Sometime.”

  “Arnold is working downtown. He’s been staying at Truely’s,” she explained.

  “Roommates,” Truely said sarcastically.

  “Your wife been torturing me — oops, I mean tutoring me,” Arnold volunteered. “She trying to instill in me what she like to call the love of learning. Right, Courtney? If it don’t kill me I might get to like it.”

  She chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “I see.” Hastings looked at his watch, then put his hands in his pockets, decidedly uncomfortable. “Look, Courtney, you think we could talk a minute?”

  “Now?” She seemed startled.

  “Maybe outside? Could we step out into the hall for a minute?”

  She looked at Truely and Arnold — as if seeking their permission.

  “If y’all about to get into some drama, then yes, I wish you would step out into the hall there,” Arnold said. “Me and Truely trying to watch the game in here. We got money riding on this game.”

  “A dollar,” Truely clarified.

  “It ain’t about the money. It’s about team pride,” Arnold insisted.

  “Okay, then,” Courtney said. “I guess we could talk outside. Just for a minute.”

  Hastings looked relieved. He put his hand on Courtney’s back the way he used to do when they were happily married and he escorted her through a doorway. “Good to see you, Truely,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Andy.”

  “It’s Arnold,” Arnold said. “Arnold Carter,” he repeated.

  After Hastings and Courtney retreated to the hall, Arnold and Truely took their food and sat in the leather swivel seats in front of the glass wall overlooking the field. They turned their attention back to the game. Truely had a cold beer in his hand and balanced hot dogs and pasta salad on his lap. The Forty-niners were moving the ball. The O line was looking good.

  “So that’s Courtney’s husband?” Arnold was dipping chicken wings into ranch dressing.

  “That’s Hastings,” Truely said.

  “He don’t look like I was expecting.”

  “Hastings is all right.”

  “Thought he might be better-looking. He’s a little bit on the thin side.”

  “He’s a runner. Sort of a health freak.”

  “You like his girlfriend, that Meghan?”

  “She seems all right.”

  “She got some good kids,” Arnold offered.

  “Yep. You going to use that napkin right there?”

  Arnold handed the napkin to Truely. “She might be nice enough,” Arnold concluded. “But she’s no Courtney though.”

  Truely agreed, as he shoveled the last bite of hot dog into his mouth. “Only one of those.”

  Arnold was quiet for a while, distracted by a Raiders goal-line stand, then he said, “What you guess make a man let go a woman like Courtney — and then turn around and take up with a woman like Meghan?”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Truely said.

  “Shauna used to say she was the opposite of your wife. Said you went from one extreme to the other like that.”

  Truely half-choked on his swig of beer. “Shauna said that?”

  “She did. Is it true?”

  Truely wiped his mouth. “Shauna wouldn’t lie. But she might exaggerate.”

  Arnold grinned.

  The Raiders threw two incomplete passes and suffered a sack. Special teams ran onto the field to punt. It wasn’t looking good for the Raiders offense.

  “You guess Courtney was just too much for Hastings?” Arnold asked. “He’s an older dude. You guess Hastings just got worn out?”

  “Could be.”

  “Ask me, she could do a lot better anyway.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be real happy to hear that,” Truely said.

  FROM WHERE THEY SAT in the skybox Truely and Arnold could see Meghan and her boys sitting out in the stands. More than a few times they saw Meghan stand up and look in the direction of the skyboxes, as if searching for Hastings. Courtney and Hasti
ngs stood talking in the hall for a long time. When Courtney didn’t come back in a half hour, Arnold took it upon himself to walk out into the hall and look for her. Sure enough, she and Hastings were standing in a little huddle of their own, talking quietly. Courtney seemed mad, but obviously not mad enough to walk away and come back into the skybox and watch the game — which was what Arnold told Truely she should do.

  When forty-five minutes had passed Truely saw Meghan dial her cell phone. Hastings shouldn’t let her sit out there with her boys not knowing where he was or when he was coming to join them. It irked Truely on Meghan’s behalf. This time he walked out into the hall, spotted Hastings, who seemed deep in explanatory mode, and called out. “Hastings, I think Meghan is looking for you. You need to answer your phone, man.”

  Hastings looked embarrassed. Immediately he fished in his pocket for his phone and checked his messages.

  “Everything okay?” Truely asked Courtney.

  “No,” she said. “Of course not.”

  “There’s a game going on in here,” he said. “In case you’re interested.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I’m coming.”

  Truely waited in the hall while Courtney whispered something to Hastings, then turned and walked back to the skybox. “Sorry,” she said.

  From the box vantage point Truely saw Hastings make his way down the bleachers to where Meghan and the boys sat. Instead of looking annoyed when Hastings finally appeared, he thought Meghan looked relieved to see him. Hastings wove his way down the crowded row of people, sat next to Meghan and put his arm around her. She put her head on his shoulder for a few seconds. Then Hastings leaned forward and spoke to the boys, who smiled and nodded yes. In no time they had come to look like any happy family anywhere.

  Courtney poured herself a glass of wine and sat in a swivel chair looking out over the crowd. “Who’s winning?” Her indifference was unmistakable.

  “What’d he want to talk to you about?” Arnold asked.

  “Arnold?” Courtney said. “That’s personal.”

  “You not going to tell us what he said?” He seemed incredulous.

  “She’s trying to tell us it’s none of our business,” Truely said.