Bring on the Blessings (6 page)

That made Bernadine smile. “Let me get my laptop. I want to show you some of the drawings from the architect.”

Bernadine returned and opened the top of her machine, but when she turned it on, nothing happened. She went through the boot-up ritual again. Still nothing. Picking up her BlackBerry, she tried that. Nothing. And just like Lily, a surprised Bernadine asked, “There’s no cell service here?”

“Nope. No cell service, no cable TV, no nothing.”

“Well that’s not going to work. How am I supposed to stay in touch with the world?”

“Dial-up. We have a land line.”

“I need wireless. Lord.” She sat back against the old sofa, her mind racing with the hows of getting this fixed. “How was Trenton able to e-mail my lawyers then?”

“Dial-up.”

Bernadine was too through. “There’s no cell service, anywhere?”

“Not out here. Lots of small towns are the same way.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No, that’s economics.”

Further conversation was put on hold when a red pickup truck stopped in front of the house.

“
Ah,
my son,” Tamar said, smiling and getting to her feet. She moved with the aid of a cane but walked straight as a beam of steel. She turned to Bernadine. “Remember now. Snake oil.”

The twinkle in Tamar’s eyes made Bernadine let go of the tech dilemma for now and smile in reply. “Yes ma’am.”

Tamar called out. “Who’s that with you, Mal?”

The passenger door opened and a woman wearing nice jeans and a red blouse stepped out.

Tamar’s brown face lit up. “Lily Fontaine?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the woman answered as she walked to the porch. She gave Bernadine a friendly nod, before asking Tamar, “How are you, Ms. July?”

“Get over here and give an old lady a hug. You come to help Marie celebrate her birthday?”

“Yes I have,” Lily responded.

The demanded hug was given while Bernadine looked on with a smile.

Tamar then made the introductions.

“Pleased to meet you, Lily,” Bernadine said genuinely.

“Same here.”

But Tamar said to her son. “I already told Ms. Brown here you were full of snake oil, so no hitting on her. You hear me?”

Bernadine thought Malachi looked like an older ver
sion of his son. He too was tall dark and handsome. She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. July.”

“Apparently my reputation proceeds me, but good to meet you, too, Ms. Brown.”

Lily seemed shocked, “You’re the new owner?”

“Yep.”

Bernadine could see Malachi studying her but she politely ignored him and kept her attention focused on Lily’s smile.

“Nobody told me you were Black.”

Bernadine laughed. “Nobody knew.”

Lily looked to be barely forty. With her angular face, smooth brown skin, and sherry brown hair, she made Bernadine think of Tyra Banks. Lily lacked the model’s height and drop-dead curves, but something about the hair and the sparkle in the eyes made Bernadine envision an older Tyra.

“This is amazing. Folks here treating you okay?” Lily asked.

“Yes, they are.”

“Then welcome again.”

“Thanks.” Bernadine got the sense that Lily was a nice person. She wondered how long she’d be visiting.

But Tamar changed the subject by asking about Davis, and as Lily responded, Bernadine could see Malachi checking her out, but she kept ignoring him.

“Well, it’s good to have you home, Lily,” Tamar said genuinely. “Have you seen Trent?”

“Yes.”

The short reply made Bernadine think maybe there was
some kind of drama going on between Lily and Trenton July but knew it wasn’t her place to ask.

Malachi added, “I told her she would’ve made a fine daughter-in-law.”

Lily laughed, “Now, that’s enough, Mr. July.”

“I’m sorry, but the truth will set you free.”

Tamar cracked, “Set yourself free and go get me those eggs. You did bring them, didn’t you?”

He leaned over and kissed his mother’s smooth cheek. “For you, Lady Macbeth, the world.”

She cut him a look. “Me and this cane got your Lady Macbeth.” She glanced Bernadine’s way. “See what I’m talking about? Snake oil.”

It was obvious to Bernadine that mother and son loved each other. Malachi’s eyes swept Bernadine’s and she smoothly looked him off.

“I’ll get your eggs and then I’ll run Lily on over to Marie’s. You need a ride anywhere, Ms. Brown?”

“No, but thanks for offering.”

He nodded and stepped off the porch to retrieve the eggs. Returning, he gave the carton to his mother, then he and Lily said their good-byes.

As they drove away, Bernadine asked, “How old is your son?”

“Be sixty in October. Pretty handsome, isn’t he?”

He was—extremely, with his dark good looks, graying hair and mustache, and mischief-filled eyes, but Bernadine wasn’t going there, so she shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Just remember what I said. Snake oil.”

“I won’t forget.”

That night, in a small backwoods town on the Georgia-Alabama border, eight-year-old Devon Watkins took off his tie, then his suit, and hung them on the lone hanger in his tiny closet. He’d buried his grandmother today. She was the only family he’d ever known, and now he had no one else in the world related to him by blood. In spite of his grief, he felt good about the sermon he’d preached and the going-home service he’d led.

The future was cloudy though. With no relatives to claim him and no one in the poor rural community able to take him in, CPS would be coming for him in the morning. This would be his last night in the house he’d been born in. Being eight years old, he knew nothing about what would happen to his grandmother’s land or how to access her Social Security benefits, nor did he even think about those things; all Devon knew was the Lord, and because he did, he said his prayers, crawled into bed, and put tomorrow in His hands.

F
or the next few days, Trent avoided Lily and Lily avoided Trent. Malachi doctored animals all over the county with Bernadine Brown on his mind while Riley sat in the Dog and Cow trying to figure out a way to get the town’s sale reversed. For her part, Bernadine spent her time talking on Tamar’s land line phone to the agencies in charge of the kids, checking in on the potential foster parents she’d chosen, and orchestrating efforts to bring Henry Adams into the twenty-first century.

The phone companies were not cooperative. They gave her a hundred and one reasons why they wouldn’t replace the tower, all based on their bottom line. She understood that. Capitalism and the pursuit of profit had made her who she was, but there was still no high-tech anything in her town and she was determined to fix that.

In the end, it came down to lawyers. She sicced her legal beagles on the phone companies with a threat to file a class-action suit on behalf of small-town Americans ev
erywhere if they didn’t get it together. And since she was a
major
contributor to both the Democratic and Republican Parties, she threw a few senator friends into the mix. When they began making noises about hearings on the companies’ discriminatory policies, all of a sudden the sellers of cellular and wireless services wanted to be her friends.

The Henry Adams residents monitored all of this with amazement. Riley kept telling anyone who’d listen that she’d never be successful and it didn’t matter how much money she had, the phone companies weren’t going to budge, but that evening as they gathered in chairs outside in the shade behind the church, for her first town meeting, he had to eat his words.

Bernadine looked around and said, “The phone company is going to replace the tower. It should be up and running by the weekend.”

Applause rang out followed by whistles and cheers.

“And,” she added, stretching out the word for emphasis, “Everybody who wants a cell phone will get one.”

Gasps filled the air.

“It seems they want to do a research study on seniors’ cell phone usage, or at least that’s what they’re calling it, so you’ll be getting the first year of service free.”

Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. Even Riley’s.

In reality the company’s offer was nothing more than a bribe to make Bernadine and her minions go away, but she didn’t care. She’d gotten what she’d wanted and her residents would benefit as well.

That next evening while she and Tamar sat on the
porch watching the sunset, Tamar pointed out, “You’ve been pretty busy the past few days.”

Bernadine had just finished yet another phone call. This one to a dealership. She needed wheels. Her double-wide trailer would be arriving in the next few days, or so the salesman had promised. “I know and I feel like a dead woman walking.”

“Pace yourself, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bernadine replied, even though she had no idea how she could in the face of the thousand and one things she needed to get done. She had the kids picked out and hoped to have them in town by the end of the week, providing the foster parents signed on. The foster agencies were so desperate for placements they’d bent all kinds of rules for her in order to make her dream a reality, but if she didn’t have one parent for each child, there’d be no deal. That rule was in set in cement. The state also required that each child have his or her own bedroom, which meant she’d have to come up with some type of temporary housing by the time they arrived, because the contractors were nowhere near done with the construction of the new subdivision.

As if reading her mind, Tamar reached over and patted her on the knee. “Everything will work out. Don’t worry.”

Later, after night rolled in and Tamar took off to the solitude of her room, Bernadine sat on the porch and watched the stars come out. Because they had no big city lights to compete with, they shone like brilliant diamonds on a bed of black velvet. She had seen stars from five continents over
her lifetime, and no matter where she was the beauty of them always made her go, “Wow…”

Like now. Maybe one day when things calmed down she could take a class in astronomy so she’d know the names of the star shimmering to the right of the moon and that big six-carat one glowing on the other side. She had to make sure all of the kids she recruited received telescopes. Filling them up with the wonders of the world had to be a good thing. She made a mental note to ask if anyone in the community was a sky watcher because the kids would need help.

Her reverie was broken by the sounds and sights of a truck pulling up to the house. Out of it stepped Malachi July. He left the engine running and the headlights lit the night.

“Tamar gone to bed?” he asked, looking up at her from where he stood on the bottom step.

“I think so.” A look over her shoulder showed the lights out in the back of the house. “You’d know better about whether to wake her up or not.”

“I’ll talk to her in the morning. So how are things?”

“Just fine.”

“Enjoying the night?”

“I am.”

“Have dinner with me?”

Even though he was fine as the night itself, she said, “No.”

“Because?”

“Because your mama says you’re full of snake oil.”

He dropped his head. Even he had to smile on that one. “Look—”

“No,” she said softly, and she hoped kindly. “The only reason I’m here is to help this town. I know you have a reputation with the women, but I think a man in his sixties still trying to be a player is pitiful.”

He stared and stammered. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know there are twenty-year-olds who can’t get enough of this funky stuff.”

Unimpressed by him or his sampling of Kool & the Gang’s lyrics, she stood and warned in a humorous voice. “You need to cut back on that Viagra. Good night, Mr. July.”

“Hey, you’re just going to walk away?”

“Yes, I am. Good night.”

“You’re a cold sister, Bernadine Brown.”

Amused, she tossed back, “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” and went into the house, closing the door.

Malachi smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so dismissed. By anyone’s standards she was a fine woman and not one of those skinny model types usually associated with money. Ms. Bernadine Edwards Brown was a big girl, and he liked size on his women. Classy too, with her well-done hair and makeup and thin gold bracelets on her wrist. The fact that she claimed to be disinterested didn’t matter. Big girls needed love just like everybody else, and so, brightened by the notion, he whistled as he got back into the truck and drove home.

He lived in the small apartment behind the Dog and Cow, and had since buying the place back in the eighties. The one-room efficiency was smaller than a gopher’s hole, but he didn’t need anything more than that.

The D&C was dark when he drove up. Usually the last person to leave for the night knew to turn off the coffee pot and the lights. He still hadn’t had time to get a replacement for Rocky, what with him driving all over the county dealing with sick stock and the like. If Trent had married Rocky like he was supposed to, he wouldn’t need a new cook.

As if on cue, Trent drove up, and Malachi got out of his truck and walked over to greet him. “Hey son.”

Trent powered down his window. “Dad. What’s up? Came by earlier and you weren’t here.”

“Checking on me?”

Their eyes met.

When Trent didn’t respond. Malachi said, “I’ve been sober eight years, son.”

“I know and we’re all real proud, but—habit, I guess.”

Malachi mulled that over for a minute. “I suppose I should be grateful anybody’s looking after my ass.”

“That too, so in the future how about I check on you just because you’re my father and you’re old?”

Malachi shot him a look. “Did you get Lily’s car fixed?”

“Yeah. Called over to Marie’s and told her she could pick it up in the morning. How’d your day go?” he asked changing the subject.

“I think I’m in love.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I think I’m in love.”

“You’d be in love with a Greyhound bus if it had on a halter top.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Who is it this time?”

“Bernadine Brown.”

Trent shook his head. “Dad, leave that lady alone. She’s not here for that.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Then problem solved.”

“Called me pitiful.”

Trent hid his laughter with a faked cough.

“Said she thought a sixty-year-old man calling himself a player was pitiful.”

“You have to admit, she does have a point.”

Malachi glared. “Told her I have pretty young things all over me when I go to Kansas City.”

“That’s because you lie to them about owning hotels in Las Vegas.”

“Don’t hate.”

“So what did she say when you told her about these pretty young things in Kansas City?”

“Said I should cut back on my Viagra, like maybe it was making me crazy.”

“Could be she’s on to something.”

“You laugh now but just wait. When your hammer stops being strong enough to break through the pearly gates, you’ll be looking for little blue pills too.”

Trent grinned. “I don’t think I’m old enough to hear this, so tell you what…I’m going home. Just wanted to check on you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned the wheel and backed up only to have Malachi call out, “What’re you going to do about Lily?”

Trent didn’t stop as he yelled his response, “None of your damn business.”

“Coward.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

Grinning, Malachi walked to the door and went inside.

At the garage the next morning, Trent cleared off a spot on his desk so he could put down the foil-wrapped plate holding his breakfast. The only thing he missed about living in LA was being able to drive up to a fast food joint and get fed. Here, because his father still hadn’t found a replacement for Rocky, he had to either cook for himself in his small apartment up above the garage or go begging from people like his grandmother. Luckily for him she loved him and would feed him until the Second Coming. Beneath the foil lay waffles, grits, eggs, and four slices of Clayton Dobbs’s prize-winning bacon. Trent wasn’t as trim as he’d been twenty years ago, but what man was. He was still in good shape though and active enough to handle a hearty breakfast, especially one that came out of Tamar’s kitchen.

Taking a seat he undid the foil and pulled out the silverware. Lily claimed she’d be coming by the garage early to pick up her rental car, but he hoped she’d hold off long enough for him to eat. He dug in and as he did his mind floated back to the woman he used to call
Lily Flower
. Last night Malachi had asked him what he planned to do. Truthfully, Trent didn’t think there was anything to do. After their breakup, she’d gone on with her life and he’d done the same. Time passes, and it wasn’t like they were going to pick up where they left off. Yes, she was still a good-looking woman, even pissed at her he’d noticed that, but she’d kicked him in the heart so hard he still had the bruises
to prove it, and he wasn’t looking to get sucker punched again. So, no…He’d be polite, hoped she’d enjoy herself while she was in town, and then she could take her trifling little behind back to Atlanta.

He heard a car pull up. Being the area’s only mechanic, he knew the sound of every vehicle in town. Marie’s old Pontiac was idling out front. She’d probably given Lily a ride over and his bad mood was all over his face when he turned around and found her standing in the doorway.

Her face was no happier than his. “Sorry for the interruption. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

Irritation flashed in her eyes. “Right, Trent. How much?”

“Just take the car. Keys are inside.”

“Fine. Thanks.” She disappeared.

A few moments later, he heard the rental car’s engine start up and the car drive away. Cursing teenage love, he went back to his plate.

Lily’s jaws were tight as she drove the five miles back to Marie’s. All she could think about was his angry face. Granted she’d hurt him, but good Lord, they were teenagers then. Would she have to pay for her sins every time she ran into him from now on? If so, it was going to be a long two weeks.
He’s going to mess around and get cussed out
, the angry sister voice inside warned, but it was just like him to fix the car for free just to show her how generous he could be in the face of how badly she’d treated him. She slammed her fist against the wheel and set off the horn, scaring herself half to death.

Pulling it together, she stared at the road ahead. And
this was the reason she had dull old Winston in her life, at least for now. With him there was no drama—at all. Of course, there wasn’t much of anything else either.

When she got back to the house, Marie had her keys in her hand. “I need to do some grocery shopping, you want to ride?”

Lily nodded. “Is Ms. Agnes going?”

“And miss Regis and then
The View
? Nope.”

Agnes called from the living room. “You got that right. See you when you get back.”

Minutes later they were on the way. Lily knew her godmother didn’t like a whole lot of talking when she was driving, so while Marie drove, she contented herself with watching the wheat fields roll by.

For the first time in months felt relaxed. Unlike Atlanta, on the plains there was no stress causing traffic, no hip-hop bass rumbling from cars, no breaking news of man’s inhumanity to man every time you turned around. She was enjoying the peace so much she was toying with the idea of extending her stay. Winston on the other hand hadn’t been happy when she talked to him about it on the phone last night, but she had no intentions of letting him have the final say.

Something else was in the mix too. Bernadine Brown’s plans for Henry Adams seemed to have infected everyone with its purpose and hope and Lily was no exception. Ms. Brown and her revival campaign were the topic of conversation all over town. Lily wanted to help too, and who wouldn’t want to be in on something so exciting and so real? Bernadine not only wanted to revitalize the commu
nity, she wanted to impact lives; children’s lives. She blew Lily away.