by Zuri Day
Ten minutes later, Da Chen announced the winner. Marvin’s heart pounded as he experienced a moment of being both happy and sad—all at once.
32
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Food Truck Bucks! About time you called back!”
It was late when all the hoopla quieted and Marvin got time alone. The first thing he did was call Naomi. She answered on the first ring.
“Sorry about that.”
“I’m just messing with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean, am I sure?”
“I know how much you wanted to win this.”
“You’re right. I did. But the right person won today.”
“What? You’re finally admitting the truth? That I’m the best cook out here?”
“Yes.”
Marvin’s heart swelled at the hard-earned validation. One word, said so softly and so sincerely it almost took his breath away.
“Congratulations, Marvin.”
“Thank you.”
“I really am happy for you. After watching you in the tent on the Fourth of July, the way you orchestrated that kitchen, I knew then that you were going to win the contest, and mark my words, yours is going to be one of the most popular and successful trucks in the city.”
“Man, I really hope so. I’m going to work my ass off to try and make that a reality.”
“So fill me in. What happened after I left? And more important, when will you get the truck and the money!”
Marvin told her about the endless television, internet, and podcast interviews, the photoshoots and meeting with the show producers and their legal team.
“You know about the gag order, that we can’t say anything until after the show has aired, which I found out will be during Labor Day weekend.”
“On Chow TV, right?”
“Yeah. Between now and then I’ll meet with the team who’ll be designing my truck, which I won’t actually get until October. That’s also about the time I’ll get whatever’s left of the fifty thousand after taxes.”
“They take out taxes?”
“The show doesn’t, but I took Sean’s advice and am working with an accountant to go ahead and give Uncle Sam what’s his. I’m not about to do a Wesley Snipes and go to jail over taxes.”
“That’s smart.”
“How’s Nana?”
“She’s okay. I think she’s in more pain than she lets on, especially when she gets up and moves around. That left arm and the area where the pacemaker is implanted is still pretty tender. I try and keep her still as much as possible. If I don’t play another game of rummy until my next life it will be too soon.”
Marvin laughed out loud. “What about your job at the 99 Cents Store? Are you back to work?”
“Next week, unfortunately, just when I was getting used to the housewife life. But thanks to people like your mother, Miss Liz, I feel a lot better about leaving her. Between your family, Tee, Aunt Lisa, and Nana’s church friends, there’s a whole army on standby to come in the minute I leave.”
“That’s really good for me to know.”
“You? Why?”
“Because I might want to take a little trip to celebrate, and I just might want to take you with me.”
“As if I’d go.”
Marvin paused, his sinking heart a real indication of how he’d assumed Naomi would want to be with him, and of how much he wanted her to.
“You wouldn’t?”
Hers was the slower answer this time. Marvin waited, not aware that while doing so he held his breath.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe, what?”
“Maybe I’ll go with you, depending on when, where, and for how long.”
“Did anybody ever tell you that you’re hard on a brother?”
“Only those too weak to deal with a strong woman like me. Is that you?”
“Hell, no, woman. In the short time you’ve known me, I’m surprised you had to ask.” His tone softened. “I know you’re worried about your nana. Give her a hug for me. Tell her I’ve got some Marvin’s Miracle Soup with her name on it.”
“Is my name on it, too?”
“No,” he said, his voice even softer, and lower. “I’ve got something else with your name on it.”
The sound of her laughter filled his heart with joy, like pulling a perfectly puffed soufflé out of the oven or eating his mama’s food. There was a tap at the door. “Hold on, Nay,” and then louder, “Who is it?”
The door opened. “Hey, Nay, it’s my brother. Let me holler at you later, alright?”
“Okay.”
The call ended. Marvin checked the phone’s screen to make sure. He understood Naomi’s being disappointed and tried not to take her attitude personally. He couldn’t imagine how he would have felt for someone else to win the competition, and when it came to attitude, well, that could have been Naomi’s middle name.
“What’s up, Byron?”
Byron walked into the room and plopped down on a loveseat. “That’s what I came in here to find out. Did you win?”
“Win what?”
“So Mama isn’t the only one acting crazy,” Byron mumbled.
“Oh, the contest.”
“Oh, the contest,” Byron mimicked, tossing a decorative pillow that landed squarely upside Marvin’s head. “Did you win or not?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“What?”
“If I told you I’d have to kill you and I could never do that. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Why?”
“We had to sign a nondisclosure agreement to not share the contest results until the show has aired. Doing otherwise could result in a fine of up to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
Byron looked at him thoughtfully. “You won.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because you’re not in here pouting, or balled up in the fetal position, or drowning your sorrows with a forty ounce.”
Marvin laughed. “Fool, nobody in here drinks rotgut liquor.”
“You would if you’d lost.”
“Think what you will, but my lips are sealed. Besides, you don’t have long to wait. The show is going to air in a month, Labor Day weekend.”
Byron nodded. “So, that’s it? It’s back to the Soul Spot?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Dang, you hate that place. Maybe you didn’t win.”
“Ha! You already know . . .”
“Either way, you’re going to have to come up with some money. There’s a real estate opportunity coming up. I want us brothers to get in on it.”
“Real estate? Buying houses? Whose crazy idea is that?”
Byron gave him a look as he rose from the chair and headed toward the door. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Marvin spent the evening hanging out with his fam, laughing and joking till past two a.m. He’d taken the next day, which was Sunday, off, but when his phone rang at just after nine the next morning, he was not surprised.
“Let me guess,” he began, after answering Ricky’s call. “He’s sick again.”
“Don’t know. He’s just not here. Neither is Janet.”
“Who’s with you?”
“The new guy, Lorenzo.”
“Who’s got the room?”
“Miss Congeniality.”
“Charlotte?”
“Who else? You coming?”
Marvin sighed and rolled out of bed. “I’m on my way.”
While showering, dressing, and driving to work, he thought about his time at the Soul Spot, the promises made and the ones not kept. He enjoyed the kitchen camaraderie, especially with Janet and Ricky, but couldn’t help but feel used at working five, six, sometimes seven days a week and at the end of the day having very little to show for it. He’d had such high hopes when the owner, Donald Jr., had hired him and told him that there was a chance that he’d run the kitchen. Two months later, Donald Jr. dropped out of college and took over th
e restaurant. At least that’s where he drew his paycheck. Nobody knew where Junior actually worked, except it wasn’t at the Soul Spot.
It took Marvin less than forty-five minutes to get himself together and arrive at the Soul Spot. There were ten minutes between now and when the restaurant opened. The parking lot was already crowded and a line had begun to form. Marvin hopped out of the car and began walking toward the side door where employees entered when a familiar sports car roared into the parking lot—Donald Jr.’s white Corvette. Dark shades hid the roll of Marvin’s eyes as the car stopped and blocked his path.
“What are you doing here?” Donald asked.
“I thought I was covering for you. Does Ricky know you’re here?”
Donald shook his head. “I didn’t call him. Now that you’re here, I won’t.”
“No, man. I was doing Ricky a favor because he’d have done the same for me. I’ve covered too many Sundays for you as it is, so go on and do your shift.”
“Oh, my bad. I must have framed that as a request.” Donald took off his glasses. “It wasn’t.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m the boss and I just made a change in the schedule. You’re working today.”
Everything in Marvin railed at Donald’s presumptive statement. Just yesterday he’d been touted as the best cook out of hundreds who’d tried out to win Food Truck Bucks. The public didn’t know that yet, but the outcome validated what Marvin had always believed. He could be his own boss. For better or worse, that would start today. He turned on his heel and headed back toward his SUV.
“If you leave this parking lot today, don’t bother coming back tomorrow,” Donald yelled.
“I won’t,” Marvin replied, without looking around. He reached his truck and got in, at the same time pulling out his phone to call Janet and let her know about his just-delivered and totally unplanned resignation. He hated to leave Ricky and Janet. They were good cooks and even better coworkers. He definitely hadn’t planned for today to be his last at the Soul Spot. He’d intended to work all the way up to Labor Day weekend. Sometimes life didn’t go as planned. Today was one of those days.
33
Naomi’s alarm went off, jolting her awake the way it had for the past several months. She snatched her phone off the nightstand, clicked on settings and then on alarm. That she was tired of her former heartthrob Lil Wayne screaming at her first thing in the morning was a sure sign that something in her life had shifted. When a song title jumped out at her and she immediately set it as her new morning serenade, she knew what that something was different. A man named Marvin. It had been a week since he won the contest and that long since she’d seen him. She imagined he was busy preparing to be the next star chef on the culinary scene. They’d texted back and forth, joked and flirted, but had only talked once. Naomi might never admit it to Marvin, but she could to herself. She missed him. She restarted the song to play in its entirety, and let Alicia tell Marvin with her ringtone what she almost had the nerve to tell him herself. Almost, but not quite. No one . . .
Just as she was getting deep in the groove, the song stopped and hopped back to the chorus. She looked over at her phone, confused until she realized a call was coming in. Seeing the caller’s face instantly made her dewy, but just a little bit. She set the phone on her dresser and hit the speaker button while she figured out what to wear.
“I was just thinking about you.”
“Oh really.” Marvin’s voice was low and sexy. “What were you thinking?”
“This and that. What’s up?”
“You, obviously. Getting ready for work?”
“You know I don’t work on Saturdays.”
“I thought that maybe your schedule changed.”
“What about you? What time do you go into the Soul Spot?”
“As of last Sunday, I don’t work there anymore.”
“I thought you were going to work there until the holidays. What happened, Food Truck Bucks changed the rules and cut your check?”
“I wish, couldn’t put up with Donald’s bullshit anymore. September can’t come soon enough. So what are you doing today?”
“Miss J and Sue, who you met at that first dinner, are over watching Nana, so I’m going to meet Kristy for breakfast. Since you’re off today, guess it won’t be at the Soul Spot.”
He gave her the name of another restaurant in the general vicinity. “What time are y’all planning on getting there? I might meet you.”
“Sorry, but this is a girls’ morning out.”
“Oh, it’s like that.”
“Yes, Marvin Carter. It’s like that.”
“Hmm.”
A low, slow groan that had Naomi considering a change in plans and partners. But, no, she’d promised Kristy.
“Maybe I’ll call you later, and we can hang out,” Marvin said. “It’s Saturday. We’re both off and there is no competition. I think that’s a first since we met.”
“That might work. Let me make sure Nana is taken care of and I’ll get back with you later. Okay?”
“Alright, Juice. Out.”
Knowing she might see Marvin later helped Naomi make her wardrobe choice—something cool and comfortable. Since June and July had been scorchers, she wasn’t surprised that August had started off hot. Her girls needed room, sister needed air, and she didn’t want to have to worry about sweat circles on her clothes. Searching for cotton, she pulled out a strapless purple maxi with a bouquet of flowers that ran from the top of one side of the dress to the bottom of the other. The print pulled the eye toward the side instead of the middle. When it came to looking slimmer, Naomi pulled out all the tricks. After choosing a pair of flat sandals, she added colorful, clunky jewelry, a spritz of cologne, and after sharing a few pleasantries with the ladies, texted her cousin the restaurant Marvin had mentioned and took off in that direction.
On the way she thought about Kristy, the pregnancy, Gary, and how so many aspects of the situation didn’t make sense. She chalked her cousin’s mood swings up to hormonal fluctuations. But why hadn’t she told Gary about the child? Why, aside from her and Lisa, hadn’t she told anyone else? The shock had worn off and Kristy now embraced becoming a mother. But all she talked about was wanting a girl so she could dress her up like a China doll. Kristy lived with her mom and did hair out of the home. What if Gary was unwilling to help her? Besides Lisa—and Naomi, however she could—who would help support the baby? That babies are blessings was a popular saying and Naomi wanted to be happy for Kristy. But for all the single mothers she knew, the struggle was real. True enough, Kristy could do the hell out of anyone’s hair, but she’d have to braid all night and weave all day to live above the poverty line.
Naomi tried to imagine what she would do in the same situation. She had a full-time job and fairly good benefits, but she lived with her grandmother in a fairly small home. How could she fit a baby into that environment? Turn a drawer into a bassinet? Switch out her queen size for a daybed to make room for strollers and bouncy chairs? Naomi looked down and realized how tightly her hands gripped the wheel. She didn’t need to think about having a baby. What she needed to do was make an appointment for next week and get on birth control.
LA traffic was crazy on most days, but Saturday was especially insane. When she pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant Marvin had suggested, she wasn’t surprised to see Kristy’s car already there. However, her brow did rise when she saw that her cousin was still in it. As hot as it was? She must have just arrived.
Naomi found a parking spot, then walked over to where Kristy was slowly easing out of her car. “Good morning, mommy. Why are you moving like a turtle?”
Kristy glared at Naomi, then hefted her considerable frame out of the seat. “Have Marvin put a baby up in you and see how fast you move.”
“Girl, please. You’re what, four weeks along?”
“Eight, according to my last doctor’s appointment.”
Naomi looked at Kristy. Had she even
known Gary for that long?
Naomi could tell that Kristy was grouchy, so instead of voicing a thought that might come off as judgmental, she offered a compliment. “Eight weeks and look at you, girl. You’re not even showing.”
An eye roll landed where Naomi thought a thank-you might go.
“Why are you tripping? That was a compliment.”
“No, it wasn’t. You’re trying to be funny.”
“How is saying ‘you’re not showing’ a dig?”
“Big as my fat ass is? I’ll probably never show. Only reason I knew I was pregnant is because my periods came like clockwork before not showing up at all.”
Kristy reached for the door and yanked it open. Naomi said nothing as she followed her inside, but pregnant or no, when it came to attitude Naomi was only going to take so much.
They were seated in a booth and handed menus, which they both scanned.
“Who told you about his place?” Kristy asked.
“Marvin. One of his friends works here. He says the food is good and I see that the prices are reasonable. Which is a good thing, chick, because breakfast is on me.”
“Ooh, then I might need to go ahead and order lunch, too.” The only thing that moved were Naomi’s eyes. “You know I’m kidding.”
“You’d better be.”
The conversation turned more cordial and civil after that. The two women placed their orders. Naomi told Kristy about the finals and how an unexpected twist got her eliminated in the first round.
“I’m sorry, cousin. I know how badly you wanted to win that food truck.”
Naomi shushed her cousin and looked quickly around. “What did I tell you?” she whispered. “Shut up about that.”
Kristy whispered, too. “Girl, nobody in this restaurant knows who you are or cares what we’re talking about. Besides, you don’t have to say what I already know.”
“Yes, you do know.” Naomi continued speaking low as she reached for the glass of water the server put down. “I was disappointed, but not devastated. Marvin is no joke in the kitchen. He deserved to win that truck. And the money.”
