Something Old, Something New (7 page)

“I guess. Which means I'll never know who my folks are, because no way can I use the computer like him.”

“I didn't mean on your own, by yourself. I'd help.”

Amari straightened. “Would you?”

“Of course. Tamar is convinced you have July blood and has been asking around the family.”

“There are other Julys?”

“Yep. Cousins. Second cousins. Tamar has a brother named Thaddeus, and he has nine kids. There's also supposed to be Julys still living down on the Texas-Mexico border, where the original outlaw Julys hailed from.”

“That's awesome.”

Trent had a question. “So has Preston talked this over with the Paynes?”

“Not yet, but he plans to tonight.”

Trent shook his head with amusement over where Preston had placed his foster parents on the pecking order, and wondered how Sheila and Barrett would react.

Amari's voice brought him back. “So when will Tamar know?”

Trent shrugged. “There's no telling, but in the meantime, how about you and I do some computer work on our own, and learn how to start this search?”

Amari beamed.

“And,” Trent added, “if it's okay with you, I want to call over to the court and ask about what we need to do to make your adoption final.”

The wattage on Amari's smile tripled. He launched himself at Trent and hugged him with all his might. Laughing, Trent held him close, savoring the boy's joy and his own. After a moment, he drew back and looked down into Amari's face. “Do I take that as a yes?”

“Oh, hell yes—I mean, heck yes.”

Trent's laughter exploded. “You are something else.”

“Just being me.”

“You're growing up.”

Amari settled himself on the arm of Trent's chair. “You think so?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe because I got my own family, my own room, my own best friend, at least when Leah lets me borrow him.”

“That turning into an issue for you?”

He shook his head. “I'm just playing. Leah being around Preston is helping him with stuff I can't.”

“Like?”

“Which colleges he should try for. Stuff like that.”

Amari was an expert at hiding his true feelings, and Trent sometimes had a hard time deciphering the truth. Now was one of those times. “You sure you're okay with the time Preston is spending with Leah?”

“Yes, and even if I wasn't, there's nothing I can do about it.”

Trent noticed that he'd said “can” and not “could.” That told him a lot.

Amari asked, “Do you think you'll still want to talk to me like this when you and Ms. Lily get married?”

That question told Trent a lot as well. “If you mean just the two of us, one on one, the answer is always. We'll still be talking when you have your own kids.”

Amari met his eyes and nodded approvingly. “I like having our one-on-ones before I go to bed.”

“So do I, son.”

“Like being called son.”

“Like being called dad.”

They grinned.

Amari said, “This is getting mushy.”

Trent chuckled. “I know. So how about we check out the game before you head up to bed.”

He hit the sound on the remote, and father and son turned their attention to the TV.

Upstairs on the landing, and hidden by the shadows, the eavesdropping Devon listened for a moment longer, then tiptoed back to the guest room. In some ways, the conversation between Amari and Mr. Trent reminded him of his talks with his grandma. Her voice would be soft with love just like Mr. Trent's, and thinking about her brought tears to his eyes. He missed her so much it made his stomach hurt sometimes. He knew she was up in heaven, living in one of God's many mansions, but he wanted her back on earth because he was so scared that he'd forget her when he grew up.

As he got back into the giant bed and wiped at his tears, he could still see her face and hear her calling his name.

“Devon! Time to go.”

“Yes, ma'am. Be right there.”

Dressed in his suit and tie, he'd step out of his tiny bedroom, and at the sight of him, she'd always say proudly, “You are the handsomest preacher in the state of Mississippi.”

He'd giggle, and she'd grin.

Having had their breakfast earlier, there was nothing left to do but for her to pick up her pocketbook and Bible and to take one last look at herself in her big blue hat in the small mirror on the wall. “Gotta look my best for the Bridegroom.”

Once she was satisfied that she looked just right, they'd set off walking down the dirt road for the half-mile trip to the Good Will Missionary Church of God. She couldn't walk very fast due to the swelling in her legs from diabetes. Sometimes, if they were lucky, one of their neighbors would drive up and offer them a ride the rest of the way. Most Sundays, however, they walked, rain or shine, and on the rare occasion that she couldn't muster the strength to make the trip, Devon went alone.

In his memory's eye he could see the old abandoned cinder-block building that had served as the church, and the lush, overgrown greenness of the Mississippi countryside that surrounded it. He could hear the off-key singing of Ms. Myrtle, his grandma's best friend, as she led the hymns. If a raven could sing, it would probably sound like Ms. Myrtle, but she hadn't cared. What she lacked in tune, she made up for with enthusiasm and volume. His grandma said when Myrtle sang, not even the angels could sleep in on Sunday morning.

Devon missed Ms. Myrtle and the other ladies of the congregation. He even missed old man Lemon, who came to church every Sunday and slept in the back chair. As the memories filled him, Devon remembered the fun he had planting the garden in the spring and listening to the frogs and crickets at night through the window of his room.

But all that was gone now, along with his grandma, and tears stung his eyes again. The other Henry Adams kids might like having a new life and doing new things, but he didn't. He wanted the life he'd had before.

D
own in Miami, Paula Grant plopped down heavily into her old chair, not out of sadness or frustration but out of sheer awe. Talk about miracles. Not only did she have a new job, but from the story told to her by Bernadine and Lily, it was going to be in a little piece of heaven. Yesterday evening, she'd had no prospects; now, it seemed as if she had more blessings than her arms could hold. In many ways, she felt as if she'd somehow stumbled into a parallel universe. How could what Bernadine described as
her
town possibly be true?

She turned to her ancient computer and googled Henry Adams. After spending an hour reading articles, watching cable news clips, and researching the Great Exodus of 1879, she was even more blown away. On one hand, she was deeply saddened by the finality of leaving Miami, on the other, she was so excited about what the future might hold, she felt like a little kid. Even though Paula had tried to protest, Bernadine had gone ahead and paid for movers, storage for her old Ford, and even encouraged her to think about the size and layout of the church Bernadine planned to build. Paula thought back on her years spent at Old Ab and the hardships she'd endured heading up a church and a congregation no other clergy wanted or even cared about. She'd worked countless hours and made endless sacrifices to keep the doors open and her people fed both physically and spiritually, and now, God was leading her to a ministry halfway across the country. That Zoey Raymond would be playing a part in Paula's new life was a surprising twist. When had the little one stopped speaking, and why? she wondered, but hoped she could help in some way. In the meantime, this chapter of her life was closing, with another poised to open.

She glanced at her watch. It was time to lock up and go home. As she turned out the light, she paused for a moment to say a prayer for the congregation she was leaving behind, and for guidance on the journey ahead. She also prayed to remain humble in the face of the astonishing wealth of Ms. Bernadine Brown.

Chapter 6

L
ily and Bernadine flew into the Hays airport the following morning. Nathan met them and drove them back to the Power Plant so they could pick up their cars. Lily had made plans last week to take the day off, so she wasn't going back to the office. Bernadine knew to call her only if the world caught fire.

Once at home, Lily sent a text to Trent to let him know she was back, then opened a text message waiting for her from Marie.
Need to see you asap,
was all it said, so she took a quick shower, changed into fresh clothes, and drove out to see what Marie wanted.

The drive out to the Jefferson homestead took only a few minutes. Marie's ancestor, Chase Jefferson, had been a sergeant with the Tenth Cavalry before he was elected Henry Adams's sheriff. His wife, Cara Lee, was the town's first college-educated schoolteacher.

Lily parked and walked up the gravel path to the porch. Marie lived with her mother, Agnes, a contemporary and running buddy of Tamar July's. Staying with them temporarily was Genevieve Curry, who'd moved in after walking away from her marriage to Riley and his hog, Cletus, and who according to Trent had knocked Riley the hell out yesterday. Lily really wished she'd been at the Dog to see it.

Lily called through the screen door, and Marie came to let her in.

“Hey there.”

Marie was tall and thin and wearing her signature cat-eyed glasses. Today's pair was aqua with rhinestones. Viewing them made Lily give her a smile. “You and those glasses.”

Marie grinned.

The house's interior, with its old-fashioned doily-topped furniture, brought back memories of the years Lily had lived within its walls. After leaving for college, she'd sworn never to return to boring, slow-paced Henry Adams, but life had a way of changing things. “So what's up with the cryptic message?”

“Come on into the kitchen.”

The stylish stainless-steel appliances, courtesy of Bernadine's improvement fund, were a marked contrast to the doilies and overstuffed sofas and chairs in the living room, or as Ms. Agnes preferred to call it, the front parlor.

Lily took a seat at the table.

“You want coffee?”

“Love some.”

While Marie did the honors, Lily told her about her trip to Miami, the new reverend, and her connection to Zoey.

“Let's hope the reunion will make Zoey smile,” Marie said, placing a steaming blue cup in front of Lily.

She took a seat on the other side of the table. “Speaking of reunions—read this.”

Marie passed her an envelope. Lily curiously assessed it and then Marie before taking out the letter. It read:

Hello. My name is Brian French. I think I am your son. Please call
.

There was a phone number listed.

Lily was confused. “Whose son is he claiming to be?”

“Mine.”

Her mouth dropped. “Yours?”

“Gave him up for adoption. I was, what, eighteen, almost nineteen. Got pregnant my first year of college. The father refused to marry me, so I came home. You can probably imagine Mama's reaction.”

Lily could. Ms. Agnes was all about appearances. The day Lily came to live with them, she'd been sternly warned not to bring dishonor on the Jefferson name, or she'd find herself living elsewhere. At the time, Lily had been the epitome of a good girl. She'd just lost her mother to cancer, and being chastised about her behavior before barely getting her foot in the door hadn't set well. All these many years later, it still didn't.

Marie was staring off as if she, too, was reviewing the past. When she finally turned back, she confessed with a sad whisper, “I never even held him.”

That broke Lily's heart. “So are you going to call him?”

She shrugged. “Leo says I shouldn't.”

“But what do you want to do?” she asked, emphasis on the
you
. Who cared what Leo thought?

“Not sure.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“Of course, but what if he's bitter about my giving him up? What if his childhood was like Amari's or Crystal's?”

“What if it wasn't? What if he was raised by a wonderful family and just wants to connect with his birth mom? I'm thinking it took a whole lot of courage for him to reach out like this, especially not knowing whether you want the contact or not.”

“But how on earth did he find me? The records were sealed.”

“Times have changed. Many states are allowing adoptive kids to look at their files. The only way to know for sure is to call him.”

Marie seemed to ponder that for a moment. “I haven't shown the note to Mama. She's liable to hit the ceiling. It's bad enough I'm seeing Bernadine's ex. Getting in touch with the child she insisted I couldn't raise is only going to make her go off again on what she calls my ‘evil past.' ”

Lily didn't respond. Out of respect, she'd always kept her feelings about Agnes Jefferson unspoken.

“I'm over sixty years old, and still scared of my mother. Pitiful.” When Marie smiled, Lily met it with one of her own.

“I really want to call him, Lily.”

“Then go for it. Who knows? This may turn out to be a blessing.”

It was easy to see that Marie wanted it to be just that, but the thought of her mother's reaction had to be looming like a hawk over prey. The situation brought Preston's quest back to mind. Would his mom want contact?

Lily turned the envelope over and saw that although it bore a Tennessee postmark, there was no return address. The person who'd mailed it seemed as uncertain as Marie. “Have you talked to anyone else about this besides Leo?”

“Genevieve. And her advice was the same as yours.”

“Great minds think alike.” Another thing Lily kept to herself was how she felt about Marie possibly letting Leo influence her thinking on this. For as long as Lily had known her, Marie had always been in charge of Marie. Lily hoped she wasn't turning into one of those women who wouldn't cross a street without asking her man first.

“Thanks for listening, Lily.”

“No problem, and if you need to talk it through some more, I'm your girl.”

Marie nodded approvingly and after a few more seconds of silence asked, “So how's the wedding coming?”

Lily shrugged. “I don't know. Bernadine wants to throw the Wedding of the Ages, and I just want a quiet ceremony with a reception at the Dog.”

“Then say that.”

“I have. Many times.”

“Not listening?”

“Seemingly.”

“She's a tough lady.”

Lily assessed Marie in an effort to try and determine if she'd meant that to be complimentary or not, but Marie was an excellent poker player and hid her emotions well. Lily changed the subject. “Sorry I haven't been out to see you. It's been crazy.”

“I understand why you haven't. Has Bernadine asked you to choose?”

Lily went still. “No.”

“And neither will I. I know how she feels about my being with Leo, but we're all adults. You are still my godchild—always will be. I can even still be friends with Bernadine, if she'd let me.”

“She's just concerned about you, that's all.”

“So she says.”

Lily heard the snipe. “Do I need to sit the two of you down and have a come-to-Jesus meeting? The last thing I need is another layer of drama before my wedding.”

“Another layer?”

“Yes. Devon is insisting on being the preacher, and no matter how many times I tell him no, he keeps asking. I also have Bernadine trying to smother me with her checkbook. If I have to referee a catfight between two grown women, too, I swear I'm going to elope.”

Marie smiled. “A Jesus meeting won't be necessary.”

“You sure? Both of you are in my wedding because you mean the world to me.”

“I know, but have your wedding. Emphasis on the
your
. You're the one getting married. No one else.”

Lily knew she was right, but Bernadine wanted the nuptials to be a grand affair so badly.

“Go on back to work. I know you probably have a million and a half things to do.”

“Nope, I have the day off, so I can sit awhile unless you have someplace to go.”

“Nope. I'm waiting for Genevieve to get back so we can head over to the rec and set up for tonight's movie. You heard about her and Riley?”

“Yeah.”

“Cliff is so mad at her, he can't see straight.”

“Why?”

“Told Genevieve she's supposed to be a lady, not Muhammad Ali.”

“Riley can bring out the Ali in a girl.”

“Amen.”

“How's her hand?”

“Broken in three places, but she's displaying the cast so proudly, you'd think she was Ali.”

Lily smiled at that. “Where is she?”

“With Cliff. He said they needed to talk.”

“I never knew he was so rigid.”

“He used to be as big a knucklehead as Mal, but when he came back from 'Nam, he'd changed. Not sure why, but he loves the ground Gen walks on, so they'll work it out.”

They spent a few more minutes chatting, and then Lily had to go. “Today's laundry day. I suppose I should get to it.”

Marie walked her out. Before they parted, Lily gave her a strong hug. The visit had been a good one. “You should come over and have dinner with me and Trent and the boys.”

“I'd like that. Leo invited, too?”

“Of course.” It was a lie, but for Marie's sake she'd be nice to Leo even if it killed her.

They set the date, and Lily drove home.

With the laundry done and the house clean, she was wondering if she really wanted to tackle the windows, too. But before she could decide, her stomach protested, not having been fed since the quick breakfast in Miami at the crack of dawn, so she called Trent to see what he might be doing, and if they could meet for lunch.

“Just sitting down at the Dog,” he said on the phone.

She loved the sound of his velvety voice against her ear. “Alone, I hope.”

“Nope. Gary's with me so, if you're coming, behave.”

“Aww, that's no fun.”

“Crazy woman,” he muttered affectionately.

“See you in a minute.”

T
he hip-shaking sound of Wilson's Pickett's “Engine Number Nine” was rocking the house when Lily entered the diner. The music competed with the noise of what sounded like a hundred different conversations. The place was packed like it always was between eleven and two, and the mouthwatering smells of the food coming out of Rocky and Siz's kitchen filled the air.

Behind the counter Malachi was moving to the beat and counting a stack of paper money over the opened cash drawer. Looking up, he shot her a smile. “Hey, girl. My lady with you?”

“Nope. She still has herself chained to her desk. Me, I have the day off.”

“Good for you, but your boss has to be the hardest-working person on the planet.”

“Amen.”

“Trent's over there on the left,” he informed Lily just as she spotted him, so she left Mal bopping and counting, and threaded her way over to Trent.

She greeted him with a quick kiss on the lips. Slipping into the booth, she gave Gary a grin. The waitress arrived and set down the men's loaded-up plates.

“You all didn't wait for me?” Lily asked with mock offense.

Trent gave the waitress a nod of thanks and began covering his fries with ketchup. “Seven times out of ten, when you say you're on your way, you get distracted by the job and arrive a week later. I want lunch today.”

She punched him playfully in the shoulder. “I have the day off, but at least I do work, unlike you.”

He peered at her over the giant burger filling his hands and countered, “I work, too. As mayor, I officially welcomed my boy Gary back to town by helping him move today.”

“Where to?”

“The empty trailer out on Tamar's land.”

“Good. Welcome home, Gary.”

He toasted her with his large chocolate shake.

“You got keys and everything, then.”

Trent said, “We got keys, Lil. Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to get in.”

“Thank you, Mr. State the Obvious.”

“Why are you mad?”

“I'm not mad.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“Keep that up, and I will be,” she countered coolly.

Gary chuckled.

They both glared.

He shook his head in amusement. “I feel like I'm in Mr. Peabody's Way Back machine and we're seventeen all over again. Think you can take me back to the year before I married Colleen?”

That broke the tension.

Lily stuck out her tongue.

To give Lily something else to think about besides her hair-trigger temper, Trent leaned over and gifted her with a kiss that was so all that, everybody in the diner saw it and began cheering and whistling. When he finally let her up for air, she saw stars.

Gary's laughter made his shoulders shake. “And thus ends another fiery episode of the July and Fontaine Show. Stay tuned, boys and girls.”

Trent raised his soda in reply.

Lily wanted to smack them both, but the room was still spinning. Holding Trent's mischief-filled eyes, she smiled and beckoned him closer. When he complied, she whispered in his ear, “You are so going to pay for that.”

He whispered back, “Counting on it.”

She chuckled, pushed him away, and looked around for the waitress to place her order.

As they enjoyed their meals, the three friends talked of old times. Soon the conversation drifted to who they'd run into, who was working where, and the classmates that had passed away. Some of the names were of people Lily hadn't thought of in years, but with each mention a seventeen-year-old face rose up clearly from her memory. Like Irene Parrish, who was on the Henry Adams girls' track team with Lily. “We really ought to have a reunion,” she said over her salad.