Soulful Strut (22 page)

“Hope it storms if it’s raining men like
you,” a resident named Sharlene drawled in her north Mississippi
accent.

“Umph, umph, umph,” another woman said softly
as she walked by on her way down the hall.

‘Try not to act so desperate,” Monette
whispered as they passed her.

“Gill, we know you got him. At least be nice
enough to let a sister look.” Sharlene grinned before she headed
off.

Candi came out of the living room with Yarva
at her side. “See you’ve got plans. Have a nice time.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” Monette replied,
then turned to Jayson. “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry I took so long.” Jayson wore a tan
T-shirt tucked into blue jeans.

“You’ve been working on cars all
morning?”

“Oh, yeah. Then I took a shower, did
paperwork, and here I am.” He opened the door for her.

“You must be tired. We could do the tour
another time. The weather isn’t all that great either.” Monette
frowned at the now steady downpour.

“No, I promised to show you the exciting
world of auto repair. And hey, a little water won’t make us melt.”
Jayson grabbed a huge umbrella he had left on the porch. They both
fit under it.

“Okay.”

Monette tried not to feel self-conscious as
he walked her around to the passenger side, made sure she was in,
and shut the door with care. The rain shower settled back down to a
drizzle again. She looked through the windshield to find several of
the women looking out of the window. They mugged at her while
Jayson’s back was turned.

“Those ladies seem nice. Real friendly.”
Jayson waved to them. The women waved back with enthusiasm.

“Yeah.” Monette waited until he looked away,
and then shook a fist at the women. They laughed and made more
crazy faces.

Five minutes later they were at Jayson’s
garage. He pulled under an aluminum awning near a side door. When
they got out, a stocky, older man who bore a resemblance to Jayson
came out He had more gray hair and was a few inches shorter.

“This is my brother Lionel. This is Monette.”
Jayson spoke to his brother as though saying her last name wasn’t
necessary.

“Right, the famous lady." Lionel dipped his
head to her in a gesture that was both a greeting and a show of
respect “Nice to finally meet you. Jayson has told us about your
book. We all listened to Jayson on your show. My wife and sister
listen every week now.”

“Tell them thanks for me. Nice meeting
you.”

“Nice meeting you, too. Jaida and Francis
look forward to meeting you soon,” Lionel said with a sideways
glance at Jayson.

“Bye, Lionel,” Jayson said tersely with a
slight frown at his brother.

“Bye now. Y’all have a good time.” Lionel
gave Jayson a good-natured pat on the back. “See you bright and
early Monday morning.”

Jayson led the way inside the garage. The
first thing that struck Monette was how neat it looked inside. Most
of the garages she’d been in back in her old neighborhood had been
dirty places with piles of greasy auto parts everywhere. A set of
huge double doors wide enough to allow cars to drive through was
closed. He flipped a switch that started a large fan. Air
circulated to cool the interior.

“We do oil changes and tire jobs over here.”
Jayson pointed to their left “More complicated jobs that take time
over on this side. If you want to see the diagnostic equipment,
I’ll show it to you.”

“Sure.” Monette tried not to sound like she
was being polite. Her expression must have given her away, because
he laughed.

“Basically we can hook up a car or truck and
the machines tell us what’s wrong. Nowadays cars have so much
computerized equipment there is no such thing as a shade tree
mechanic. I had to borrow money to buy it all, but it’ll pay for
itself in another year.” Jayson put both hands on his waist and
gazed at the equipment with pride.

“Must have been expensive.” Monette became
more interested as she looked at the dials, wires and levers. “Most
small businesses have trouble with financing.”

“Especially minority businesses in the ’hood
is what you mean.” Jayson fussed with a tangle of wires dangling
from one machine. He tucked them into a compartment with care.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean. I’m not
trying to pry, though.” Monette walked around two waist-high red
metal cabinets with about eight drawers each.

“Wasn’t easy. My bank turned me down twice.
Then I learned how to develop a business plan.” He pointed to a
small room. “My other brother, Jerald, built me a waiting area for
customers. He works construction, mostly commercial buildings.”

Monette went inside the waiting room while
Jayson stood outside the door watching her. Half the wall that
faced the garage had a wide window so customers could see into it.
Three black plastic chairs with cushioned seats were lined against
one wall. A television sat in one corner. A low white plastic table
with outdated magazines sat in the middle of the floor. Spartan and
distinctly bland, there was no hint of a woman’s touch. Either he
had no current girlfriend or he did not welcome advice on how he
handled his business.

“Nice. Then the bank gave you a loan?”
Monette came out again, and they walked side by side toward his
offices.

His answering laugh held no bitterness. “No.
I finally got help from the Small Business Administration. A guy
there helped me a lot. I switched all my checking and savings
accounts to Liberty Bank & Trust. A year later I got an SBA
loan through them.”

“I gotcha. Liberty is the only bank in
Louisiana owned by African-Americans. You supported them and they
supported you.” Monette went into his office after he unlocked the
door. When he turned on the fluorescent lights, she was surprised
at how large it was. A gray metal desk faced the door. Burglar bars
covered the windows.

“Something like that. Don’t get me wrong; I
expect them to handle my money with the same level of service as
any other bank. They in turn expect me to make my payments. I just
feel like they understand what I’m up against. You know?” Jayson
gestured toward a chair.

Monette sat down on the Mack vinyl seat
Pictures of vintage cars and trucks hung on the walls. In one old
black- and-white photo, a handsome Mack couple stood in front of a
Buick, their arms looped around each other’s waists.

“I sure do. Makes a difference if the person
on the other side of a desk has been in your shoes.” Monette saw
another photo of the man alone. He stood with three boys around
him. The man held a little girl in pigtails perched on one hip.

“My daddy. That’s Lionel, Jerald, Jaida—our
baby sister—and me. She lives in Port Allen with her husband and
two kids.”

“Good-looking family. Your mama took that
picture, huh? Sweet.” Monette wished she had such warm family
pictures to put in frames.

Jayson smiled fondly as he looked at the
photos. “Yeah. Mama’s hobby back then was taking pictures. She even
won a few prizes back in the seventies. She died four years ago.
Breast cancer.”

“I’m so sorry. She was a beautiful lady.”
Monette heard the catch in his voice.

“Thanks.” Jayson picked up a framed picture
from his desk. “This is my pretty girl, Lenae Anitra. My mother’s
name was Anitra.”

“Lenae is a doll alright.” Monette took the
picture from him. Lenae grinned into the camera as though she knew
a joke but wouldn’t tell. She had Jayson’s dimples. Her eyes were
the color of honey. Her thick hair was styled in cute cornrows that
hung to her shoulders.

“She’s my heart walking around on two legs.
Well, that’s it. Not much else to say about me.” Jayson accepted
the picture back from Monette and carefully put it back on his
desk. “Hey, sign my copy of your book.”

“Sure thing.” She felt a flush of pleasure
that he’d taken the time to find Ticket Out, much less read it He
pulled her book from a drawer in his desk and handed it to her,
along with an ink pen. Jayson stood close to her as she signed it.
Monette hesitated and stared at the blank page as the scent from
his skin captured her. A hint of sandalwood and lemon pulled at her
like a magnet. She had visions of being wrapped in his strong brown
arms as they reclined in a lush garden bathed in sunshine. His arm
brushed against hers, and Monette let out the breath she’d been
holding.

“It’s J-a-y-s-o-n,” he said in a mellow
voice.

“Right, right.” Monette blinked her way back
from dreams of a paradise filled with passion. She struggled back
to the reality of a dreary, damp Saturday afternoon. “Thanks for
sharing so much with me. I got a lot more than a tour of your
garage.”

“My family is all up in my business as you
can see,” he replied with a grin. “Can’t talk about one without
bragging on the other. Your family live around here?”

“Some distant cousins live in Baton Rouge.
I’m not close to them. I grew up in a little place called Rougon in
Pointe Coupee Parish.” Monette fidgeted. The less said about her
relatives the better. What struck her was how different their lives
had been. Jayson seemed to have been surrounded by love all his
life. When she thought of her family, the words that came to mind
were confusion and disappointment.

“I’ve been through there. My father took us
fishing on False River when we were kids. He has friends in Pointe
Coupee. Maybe he knows some of your people.”

“Not unless he hung out at some old
broke-down juke joints.” Monette glanced at the dapper man. She
imagined he was a deacon in his church.

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jayson said in a
diplomatic tone. “He mostly went over to fish or visit friends in
their homes.”

“Then he wouldn’t know my rowdy kinfolks. I
have three kids but never got married. I’ve got four brothers and
two sisters. We’ve got three different last names between us. Mama
didn’t stick with one man for long. Two she married. Neither of
them was my daddy. My last name is the only thing I got from him. I
guess you get the picture.” Monette tried to make her description
sound like a comic ghetto story. Neither of them laughed,
though.

“Sounds like you had it tough,” Jayson said
quietly.

“I thought so until I got to prison and heard
some of the other inmates talk about their families,” Monette said
and meant it. “I don’t spend a lot of time feeling sorry for
myself.”

“Being away from your kids must have been
hell.” Jayson glanced at the picture of Lenae.

“A lot of the mistakes I made were hell on my
kids. My youngest daughter, Alisa, lives with a wonderful family. I
couldn’t have asked for better. They’ve been good to her. Karl is
the oldest. He has his own family now and he’s made a nice life for
himself. He had problems, but that’s behind him. My oldest
daughter, Talia, lives with her husband in D.C. She’s a big-time
political consultant.” Monette glanced at the clock and stood.“It’s
almost five-thirty.” Jayson looked at his watch. “I hadn’t noticed
how much time was passing.”

“I’m sure you’ve got places to go. Thanks for
the inside look at a successful small business.”

Monette felt like an idiot. What did she
think, that looking at grease stains would kick-start a fine
romance? All the talk of family brought home the fact that they
were from different galaxies. The best thing she could do was give
the guy an easy way out.

“You’re welcome.” Jayson sat on the edge of
his desk.“The callers really got a lot out of all the information
you gave us. So did I. You know, I was reading about the ways
people get scammed on car repairs. Even guys get taken these days
because cars are so complicated.” Monette heard herself chattering
on. She couldn’t seem to stop. As she talked, she opened the door
to signal they could leave. Jayson stood and followed her.

“True. Guess you’ve got plans for later.”
Jayson tugged on Monette’s hand gently as a way to stop her
progress toward the nearest exit.

“Uh, well. You know.” Monette shrugged. She
was caught between wanting to be with him and needing to escape.
When she faced him, she had to look away from the intensity in his
gaze.

“No, I’m not sure I do. Is that a no or a
‘Yes, but I’m willing to change them’?” Jayson bent down from his
six- foot-three-inch advantage to get a good look at her
expression.

His scrutiny, even with the teasing smile,
made Monette more self-conscious. She’d bared her soul to the
world, yet this guy had her fidgeting like a little girl. A breeze
from the fan above reminded her of his scent, a tangy citrus flavor
with a hint of spice. Monette stepped back to get away from it and
from him. Fast-talking players she could handle. Slick opening
lines were no problem. Jayson’s brand of good-guy wholesomeness was
an entirely different thing. Off balance and running scared,
Monette tried to make her tongue roll out excuses.

“Can’t maybe another time,” was all that made
it out.

“Maybe another weekend.”

“This isn’t right,” she blurted out. Hell,
she wasn’t into being a nice Southern belle. “Look, we’ve got
nothing in common.”

“Like?” Jayson smiled at her as though he
knew what she would say.

His smart-ass answer ticked her off. “Your
family is a real-life version of the Huxtables, my family is an
in-the- ’hood version of messed up. I’ve been to prison. You’re so
clean you squeak. You’re conservative and I’m ... not.” Monette
huffed. “Listen, let’s stop the list of reasons we shouldn’t be
together while we’re both still young.”

“I see. So you think I’m too good for you.”
Jayson nodded as he stared out into the gray evening.

“Hell, no. That is not what I’m saying. You
think you’re too good for me?” Monette put both hands on her hips
and glared at him.

“Definitely not. We have a lot in common. If
I didn’t think so I wouldn’t ask you out to dinner, believe me. I
think you’re smart, funny and strong. I enjoy being with you. I’m
not put off by your past, because you’re more than your past.” His
words came out with quiet sincerity.