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Authors: Eileen Goudge

Woman in Red (28 page)

BOOK: Woman in Red
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Alice was cleaning up after the last guest had gone when the front door swung open and a familiar voice called out, “Damn, girl, don’t tell me the party’s over? And here I done got all dressed up for nothing.”
Alice looked up to find Calpernia King filling the doorway like a total eclipse of the sun. Suitcase in hand, decked out in tight white jeans and a white rabbit chubby over a hot pink jersey top with the word
Diva
spelled out in shiny metal rivets across the mighty prow of her chest. When they used to talk
about the first thing they’d do when they got out, Calpernia’s plan had been to head straight for the nearest beauty salon, which was just what she’d done, judging by her three-inch nails painted in a mosaic of iridescent colors and the multitude of braided hair extensions coiled atop her head like some elaborate tribal headdress. Now she spread her arms wide to take in the flying missile of Alice hurtling toward her.
Alice hugged her long and hard before pulling back with a grin. “God, it’s great to see you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She’d sent an invitation but hadn’t heard back.
“Thought I’d surprise you. I’d a got here sooner but the damn car broke down. And ain’t like you got ferries running every hour.” Calpernia broke into a wide smile that showed the gap between her front teeth and instantly transformed her from bad-ass street to soul sister.
“You should have at least phoned,” Alice chided. “I would’ve picked you up at the ferry landing.
“And spoil the surprise? Girl, you know me better than that.”
Alice did indeed. At Pine River, Calpernia King had more or less ruled the roost, defining her own order as she saw fit. In the yard and gen pop she’d always had a little knot of other inmates around her, like a large tree providing shade, or, in her case, protection from rival inmates. Calpernia had a natural air of superiority about her that said
don’t mess with me if you know what’s good for you
and, for the most part, no one had, including the COs. To the best of Alice’s knowledge there had never been a clash between Calpernia and another inmate that resulted in bodily harm.
“Well, you’re here now, so as far as I’m concerned the party’s just begun,” Alice said, finding a couple of clean
glasses and popping the tab on a can of leftover Mountain Dew she’d pulled from the cooler. It might not be champagne, but it was cold and bubbly and would do the trick. She lifted her glass in a toast. “Here’s to our release. May we live long and prosper.”
“I don’t know ’bout that,” said Calpernia, tipping back her glass, “but I sure do plan on getting me some peace and quiet. I ain’t hardly slept a wink since I got out. Shaniqua’s place, I might as well been back inside, with the baby and all that ruckus next door.”
“Speaking of which, I found you a place,” Alice informed her. Calpernia would have been welcome to stay with her, but the terms of their parole prohibited them from living together. “It’s not much, just a one-room studio over a garage, but it’s free.”
At once, Calpernia’s back went up. “I ain’t no charity case. I can pay my own way.”
“You will, just not out of your pocket.” Alice explained the circumstances. The house was for sale, and the owner, a friend of her mom’s, had agreed to let Calpernia stay on as caretaker until it was sold. All she had to do was water the plants and keep an eye on the place.
Some of the fire went out of Calpernia’s eyes. “Okay. Long as I don’t owe nobody nothing,” she allowed grudgingly.
Alice chuckled, feeling a surge of wicked pleasure. “One thing’s for sure. This island won’t know what hit it.”
“Yeah. This ol’ milk bucket ‘bout to catch itself a fly,” said Calpernia in her most exaggerated Southern drawl. “They see me coming, they gon’ run for cover.” She threw her head back in a rich, deep laugh that rippled through her in waves, like heat off sun-baked asphalt.
“Most people around here are happy to leave you alone as long as you mind your own business,” Alice assured her. “It’s just a handful who go out of their way to make things difficult.” She thought once more of Owen White. “Normally I’d tell them to take a flying you know what, but I can’t afford to right now. I need all the customers I can get.” She recalled what her mother had let slip, and felt the small stitch of anxiety in her belly tighten.
“Girl, you got this place looking so fine, if the cooking’s half as good, y’all have folks lining up at the door.” Alice would have hugged her again if Calpernia hadn’t been strutting around, surveying the room. She paused to finger an embroidered tea towel, eyeing it as she would an artifact from a lost civilization. “Just take me some time for me to get used to all this white-bread shit, is all. I feel like I’m in one of those shows on Nick at Night.
Fresh Prince of Bel-Air
or the one about the old guy moves his family uptown.”

The Jeffersons
,” Alice supplied, smiling at the image of Calpernia in the role of George Jefferson.
Calpernia swung around to face her, hands on hips. “See. That’s what I’m talking about. You know shit like that.” But she was grinning, so Alice knew not to take her seriously.
“Sit,” Alice ordered, pulling out a chair. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Good. ’Cause I ain’t eaten all day.” Calpernia plunked down in the chair without further ado. “I’m so hungry ol’ Lorena’s cooking would taste good,” she said, referring to the head cook at Pine River, a three-hundred-pound former school dietician with the humorless countenance of a sumo wrestler, who’d managed to make everything taste like wet cardboard.
In the kitchen, Alice put together a plate of leftovers and made hot cocoa for them both—the kind with real milk, which still seemed an impossible luxury after having been in a place where everything came out of packet. Being reunited with Calpernia was reminding her of all she had to be grateful for: her family and friends, and the fresh start she’d been given. Colin came to mind as well, the thought warming her as she stood in the kitchen stirring the cocoa, recalling the scene that had taken place earlier in the evening in that very spot.
By the time Calpernia had cleaned her plate and they’d finished their cocoa, Alice’s eyelids were drooping. She’d been up since four-thirty that morning and the next day’s wake-up call would be the same. “Better get used to it,” she told Calpernia, as they were turning in. “We’re open for lunch and dinner, which means by noon you’ve already put in a full day.”
Calpernia eyed Alice incredulously, as if she thought she’d arrived in the nick of time to keep her from burning up upon reentry. “And you was figuring on doing it all yourself?”
“Just the cooking. I hired a girl to wait tables, and someone to wash dishes. My son offered to help out, too.” Calpernia paused on the staircase, giving her a probing look. “So you and him is a’ight?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been making progress.” Alice let them into the small apartment at the top of the stairs, which still held remnants of its former occupants, such as the spectacularly ugly floral drapes and Windex-blue shag carpet stained with cat pee. “At least we’re communicating,” she said, bending to pull the cushions from the foldout sofa. “It’s a start. Though it’s partly because he can’t afford to shut me out of his life right now. You see, he’s in a bit of trouble . . . ”
“Girl trouble?” Calpernia guessed, no doubt thinking of her daughter’s getting knocked up.
“In a way.” Alice told her about the false charges against Jeremy, and they exchanged a look that could be shared only by those with firsthand knowledge of where something like that could lead. “Pretty ironic, isn’t it? I can’t seem to escape the past, no matter where I turn.” She shook herself free from those thoughts, and straightened, turning to smile at Calpernia. “Which is why I’m glad you’re here. You’re the only one who knows exactly what I’m going through.”
“Mmmmhmmm. Yeah. Ain’t that right,” said Calpernia, in the singsong call-and-response of the Baptist church, whose rhythms were almost as familiar to Alice after nine years.
“It’s funny when you think about it,” she mused aloud. “Way back when, who’d have thought that one day we’d be in business together? I can remember when I’d have been dead meat if I’d so much as asked you for the time of day.”
Calpernia let loose with another of her deep, throaty laughs. “Never thought I’d be sleeping on some white chick’s sofa, neither,” she said, shaking her head. “But, girl, you a’ight, you know that?”
As Alice went to fetch sheets and blankets, the worries that had been crowding her head all day drifted away. For the moment, it was enough to know that she wasn’t alone. Whatever lay ahead, Calpernia King would have her back, just as she had at Pine River.
When the Pantry opened for business the following day, Alice was satisfied that she’d done everything she could to ensure its success. She’d placed a sign along the main road
leading to the turnoff for Fisherman’s Lane. She’d taken out an ad in the
Courier
and gotten her niece and nephew to pass out flyers around town. The rest was in God’s hands.
And it seemed God was smiling on her for a change, because at lunch and dinner nearly every table was filled, friends and family for the most part, some of the same loyal souls who’d attended last night’s party. Alice didn’t let it worry her too much when business slowed to a trickle in the days to come. She recalled her mother’s cautioning that Rome wasn’t built in a day, and thought to herself that Rome wouldn’t be fed in a day, either. But by the end of the week she was close to despair. It wasn’t just the out of the way location, she knew. Nor was it the food—the word of mouth reviews, even from those without a vested interest in boosting her confidence, had been mainly positive. Which meant the boycott she’d gotten wind of from her mother was more than just a handful of Owen White loyalists out for blood, as Lucy had naively chosen to believe. Either that, or people believed the rumors about Alice and were steering clear of her because they thought she was crazy. Hadn’t she already shown what she was capable of? How did they know that she wouldn’t poison them?
The only customer she could count on, rain or shine, was Colin McGinty. She found herself looking forward to the familiar sound of his voice greeting Katie out front, and to the moment when he would stick his head into the kitchen to compliment her and Calpernia on the meal. If she refused to let him pay, he always left a generous tip, sometimes more than the cost of the meal.
The new routine seemed to be having a positive effect on him, too, for the faint air of melancholy that had clung to him had dissipated. His step was lighter these days, his tone
more buoyant. She could almost forget at times that he was her son’s lawyer, that they were bound by something other than friendship and an appreciation for good food. Until one day he made a special appointment to see her during off hours. It was during the lull between lunch and dinner, when the restaurant closed. Alice took off her chef ’s whites and poured them each a glass of Perrier.
“This is about Jeremy, isn’t it?” she said, as they sat down at one of the tables in back.
He nodded, his expression growing somber. “I would’ve phoned, but I figured you’d want to hear it in person.” He paused, before continuing. “The D.A.’s office just faxed over the results of the DNA test on the semen. Apparently Jeremy was the only one Carrie Ann Flagler was with that night.”
Alice had known that the chances were slim of a less damning result, but she’d continued to hope nonetheless. Now she could see that there was no easy way out, not unless the girl decided to come clean. Still, she postulated, “Unless one of the other boys used a condom.”
“Possible, but hard to prove. All three boys deny having sex with her.”
She drew in a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “So, okay, Jeremy was the only one. That doesn’t make him a rapist.”
“No, of course not, but it’s not just his word against hers. Of course, we’ll get our own experts to run tests, but in the meantime . . .” Colin’s voice trailed off, his expression telling her all she needed to know.
BOOK: Woman in Red
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