Authors: Mary Monroe
“We’ll see. Anyway, I was thinking about setting up something on a regular basis, like lunch every other Monday, to begin with.
Then, if things work out, maybe we’ll do it every Monday. Or if you make me an offer I can’t refuse, we can start out by doing it every Monday for a few months on a trial basis. If things go well, we’ll do something more permanent, like my friend Rhoda does. She told me that she’s committed for a whole year.”
“That’s right. And she won’t regret it. Let’s focus on you and your needs now. How about this coming Monday? Just tell me what you want and what time you want it delivered. I already know your work address. Uh . . . several of my irresponsible friends have received a few lovely calls from your collection agency.” This seemed to embarrass him. He gave me an uncomfortable look. “I want you to know right now that I don’t condone people running out on their financial obligations. That’s why I don’t offer credit or take checks or credit cards from my friends.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I have friends like that, too,” I admitted. We both laughed. “Now, if you don’t mind, can we get back to what you can do for me this Monday?”
“Oh? You’ll go for it on a trial basis?”
I nodded. “On a trial basis,” I agreed.
“We also set up everything and do all the serving. That part is optional, and there’s no charge for it.”
“Like I told you, I can’t commit to anything definite just yet. I need to . . . to, uh, think about this a little more. Let me sleep on it, and I’ll call you tomorrow. How is that?”
“That’s fine if that’s what you want. But this Monday will be a complimentary meal. . . .”
I let out a mild gasp. “A complimentary meal for my whole staff?
What a nice surprise!” This man was after my own heart, and at the rate he was going, he’d have me in his hip pocket in no time.
He nodded. “And we’ll include enough for the two boys in the 92
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mail room, and your boss, in case he shows up. As a matter of fact, I will make sure that there are plenty leftovers for you and your staff to enjoy later.”
“That’s very nice of you. Do you do this for all your new customers?”
Louis looked at me for a long time before he responded. “Just the special ones,” he said. “The only thing is, I choose the meal.”
“Oh, I see.” I expected him to tell me that he would slap together a few trays with some cheese, crackers, salami, and bologna, or something along those lines. He surprised me again.
“I do a really nice Yankee pot roast, with smashed potatoes, green beans, and Hawaiian dinner rolls, and pecan pie for dessert.”
I had to look down for a moment to compose myself. “My stepdaddy called them smashed potatoes, too,” I said, getting misty-eyed.
I had to blink hard to keep from shedding a tear or two. I had adored my stepdaddy.
“I’ll include enough for your stepdaddy, too.”
I looked down again. This time my gaze landed right on his feet.
They were fairly large. I cleared my throat and quickly returned my attention to his face. “He passed some years ago,” I croaked.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. And I hope I didn’t upset you. Would you like a glass of water?”
“I’d rather have a glass of wine, if you serve it here,” I admitted, looking around for a bar.
“I don’t have a liquor license yet, but I’m working on it. If you’d really like a drink, there’s a cute little Irish place across the street—”
“Oh no,” I protested, holding my hand up. “I really do have to get home. But thanks, anyway.” I started to back toward the exit.
“What time do you want us to deliver on Monday?”
My jaw dropped. “Oh. Were you really serious about that complimentary meal for my whole staff?”
“Miss Davis, I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
I don’t know why I didn’t tell him then that I was a Mrs., not a Miss. It was obvious that he was attracted to me, and as much as I hated myself for it, I was attracted to him, too. “You can call me Annette,” I said stiffly.
“How about eleven thirty? We can set up and have everything ready by noon.”
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“That’s fine,” I said, leaning against the door. His gaze lingered on my face until I opened the door and stumbled back out onto the sidewalk, breathing through my mouth.
He stood in the doorway and watched until I got in my car and drove off.
C H A P T E R 1 9
Pee Wee was
still
laid out in his La-Z-Boy like a corpse about to be embalmed when I got home, and I had been gone for a couple of hours. I stood in the living-room doorway for a few minutes, just watching him. All I could do was shake my head and wonder what I had done to deserve this mess of a husband that I now had on my hands.
But he was my mess, and I had to make the best of the situation.
After all, I did still love him.
For some reason, Pee Wee was not snoring. That concerned me right away. I kicked off my shoes and padded across the floor to make sure he was still alive. I was satisfied to see that his chest was moving and that he had a pulse.
There was a test pattern on the TV screen, so I had no idea what he had been watching. A blanket covered him up to his neck, which meant that in his chair was where he planned to spend the night.
And that was all right with me.
I took a quick shower and got into bed, but before I turned out the lights, I called Rhoda.
“How come you didn’t tell me how cute that caterer was?” I demanded, my head propped up on three pillows.
“I didn’t think it was important. So you did go by there?”
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“Yes, I did. The food was wonderful. Your boy Louis, he sure knows how to cut a deal. He made me an incredible offer.”
“Oh? And what offer is that?”
“He’s preparing a complimentary meal for me and my entire staff for Monday. Yankee pot roast with all the trimmings. I’ll wait until next week to tell him, but I’m going to work out a weekly deal with him. On a trial basis for a couple of weeks, though. I don’t want to commit to something I might regret.”
“Oh, he’s good. The man really knows how to work on a woman, all right. That pot roast screams. That’s one dish that he really puts his foot in! It’s one of his best meals. That’s how he wooed me into that twelve-month contract. But it’s a hell of a contract. If I default, I still have to pay him for the remainin’ months. Not that I plan on lettin’ him go—with his sexy self.”
“And that’s another thing.” I paused and looked toward the door.
“He is a very sexy man, and I almost made a complete fool out of myself, skinning and grinning in his face like a schoolgirl.” I laughed, but then I got real serious. “He’s kind of young, though.”
“Why do you care how young he is?”
“Nothing. I just thought I’d mention it. And he seemed a little . . .
countrified. He called mashed potatoes,
smashed
potatoes. That makes a person sound so dumb.”
“He’s the kind of man that a woman who already has everything needs. Young, dumb, and full of cum.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Just thought I’d mention it.”
“I’m going to call him up tomorrow. The only thing is, I don’t want to commit to a yearlong contract, like you did. I’ll try him out for a few weeks, and if it works out, maybe I’ll agree to something more permanent.”
I slept like a baby that night. Pee Wee was gone by the time I made it downstairs the next morning. Just as I was about to leave the house, wearing a yellow silk scarf around my neck, which my daughter had given to me for Mother’s Day, and a pair of navy blue slacks with a yellow blouse, Rhoda called. She rarely called me this 96
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early in the morning, and when she did, something was usually wrong. I braced myself.
“I just received a disturbin’ phone call from New Orleans,” she reported, her voice weak and edgy.
“Oh. I hope it’s nothing too serious,” I replied hoarsely. The last thing I needed to hear was bad news about somebody I cared about.
Rhoda’s mother was a major hypochondriac. If you believed that woman, she’d been afflicted with almost every ailment in the book, and with a few that were not in the book. When I used to visit Rhoda when we were kids, her mother was always in a nightgown. Every single day she swallowed pills like candy and ran from one doctor to another, and she had already planned her own funeral. Rhoda’s parents had moved to New Orleans years ago so her mother could be closer to her family and “better doctors.” Since New Orleans was an hour behind Ohio, a call from somebody back there so early in the morning had to be bad news.
“Is it your mother?” I asked. I couldn’t think of anything left for her mother to claim she had. “Is she . . . gone?”
“No, my mother’s fine. It’s nothin’ like that.”
It was obvious that Rhoda was stalling. I didn’t want to pressure her or sound impatient, so I just remained silent.
“It’s Jade,” she said finally. It sounded like the life was slowly leaving her voice.
I knew that if it had anything to do with Jade, it had to be bad.
Either she had finally killed somebody—like mother, like daughter—or somebody had finally killed her. Despite my feelings toward that child, I hoped that it was neither. I had come to the conclusion that Jade was beyond redemption, but as long as I didn’t have to deal with her, I could live with that assessment. It was painful for me to have such feelings toward someone that I had once adored, but that was what it had come to.
“Oh. What did she do this time?” As soon as I said that, I cringed.
For one thing, it sounded unreasonably harsh, and the last thing Rhoda needed when it came to that girl was more aggravation. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Rhoda,” I said quickly.
“Yes, you did. And you know I don’t blame you,” she said in a dis-tant voice.
“Is Jade in trouble?”
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“She
is
trouble, Annette,” Rhoda announced. It almost felt like she was talking about somebody we’d seen featured on
America’s
Most Wanted.
“If anybody knows that, it’s you.” Rhoda paused and let out something that sounded like a cross between a sniff and a snort. “I just wanted you to know that she’s coming home. She hates New Orleans. Daddy called me up to break the news this mornin’.”
“Is she coming to visit?” I asked hopefully.
“I wish I could say that that was the case, but I can’t. She’s comin’
to stay. She’s even shipped some of her things back already. I found that out when the UPS truck stopped here yesterday evenin’, while we were havin’ dinner. But I didn’t know what she was up to until I got the call from Daddy this mornin’. I don’t know what I’m goin’
to do with that girl. She flunked out of college and spends most of her time partyin’ and drivin’ my parents crazy. They can’t handle her anymore.”
“Well, she is your child, Rhoda. You need to be there for her no matter what she does. I respect that. I’m glad you told me in advance. When is she coming?” My insides had already begun to tighten into a knot. The last person I ever wanted to see again was Jade.
“I’m not sure. Last week she ran off to Mexico to be with some bullfighter that she’d hooked up with during spring break in Cancún. My daddy went down there to try and talk some sense into her hard head. It didn’t do a damn bit of good, though. That poor little Mexican boy won’t know what bullfightin’ is until he locks horns with my wild child. And it’s goin’ to happen sooner or later.”
“What is she going to do back here? Richland, Ohio, is pretty dull compared to New Orleans and Cancún, Mexico.” The knot that had formed in my stomach now felt like it was the size of a bas-ketball.
“That’s a good question. I called up her big brother down in Mobile. He offered to take control and suggested I ship her to him. But Julian’s in a new relationship, and I don’t want to burden him with something this big. You remember my daddy’s white relatives? Rednecks to the bone, but they are good people. Aunt Lola and Uncle Johnny told me to send her to them so they could whip her into shape. Lord knows, if anybody can do that, it’s them.”
“She should go live with them,” I advised.
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“I love my white relatives, but they have white friends and white relatives that still think the old way. The Klan way. If I sent her to Alabama and somethin’ happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
Besides, they live in a trailer park, with nothin’ but dim-witted, snaggletoothed peckerwoods in the vicinity. Jade wouldn’t last a day in a situation like that.”
“Rhoda, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.”
“I love my daughter more than I love life itself, but I know how she is now. I will
never
forget what she did to you. And no matter what, I won’t let her come between us. I promise you that.”
Rhoda’s words were a comfort, but I knew that Jade’s return was going to cause all kinds of new problems in our relationship. “Thanks.
I appreciate hearing that. I guess I’d better get up out of here and be on my way,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “Just do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?”
“When you find out for sure when she’s coming, would you please let me know as soon as possible? I’d like to be prepared.” Now it sounded like the life was leaving my voice, too.
“I will,” Rhoda assured me, with a groan.
She hung up first. I slammed my telephone back into its cradle on the wall so hard, a cup on the counter below it fell over.
C H A P T E R 2 0
I sat in my car, with the window rolled down, so I could get some fresh air for ten minutes before I started the motor. Thanks to the unpleasant news that Rhoda had called to report a few minutes ago, my day was off to a bad start. And there was nothing I could do about it. Taking the day off from work was not an option. I knew that if I stayed home, all I would do was mope around the house and try to figure out how I was going to deal with Jade this time around.
Knowing Jade as well as I did now, I knew that she was going to torment me in some way. She was already doing that again. She was the only person I knew of who didn’t even have to be in the same state with me to aggravate me. Just hearing her name was enough!