A Chance of a Lifetime, page 6
Grief spreading through him, he walked to stand directly in front of one picture in particular. It had been high school graduation, and he and J’Myel stood on the football field out behind the high school, their arms around Bennie, the three of them in blue gowns with blue and gold tassels on their caps. Bennie wore a gold shawl with her gown, the reward for her perfect grade point average and being valedictorian, and they’d all been so… relieved. Excited. Happy.
Yet he remembered being sad, too. Thinking that after that night, things would never be the same again. That it really was a turning point, the end of being a kid, the accepting of responsibilities, the beginning of becoming an adult.
“She still lives down the street with Mama Maudene.”
Calvin stared at the picture a moment longer before glancing at his dad. Justice was folding the Tulsa World into quarters so he could do the crossword puzzle. Then Calvin looked back at the photo, this time focusing on Bennie. The days of going natural with her hair had long since passed by senior year; she’d straightened the hell out of it then. Her eyes, like his own, were dark-chocolate brown, her skin a creamier version of his and J’Myel’s. He remembered the day he’d looked at her and realized for the first time that she was more than a great fisherman, a fast runner, a daredevil on a bicycle, and an outstanding first baseman: She was a girl, and a pretty one. They’d been in tenth grade, and Calvin really hadn’t known how to handle that realization. When he’d said something about it to J’Myel, J’Myel had snorted. Bennie? Get outta here. She’s our buddy. You know, like, a guy.
And then ten years later, J’Myel had married her.
There were no more pictures of Calvin with Bennie, but there were plenty more shots of him and J’Myel. The two of them in basic training, at infantry school, in Mosul, Bagdad, Kirkuk.
Calvin couldn’t walk away from those pictures fast enough. He sat so his back was to them, and he kept his gaze fiercely, narrowly ahead.
“There’s a game on if you want to watch it,” Justice said.
“Nah, I’m okay.” He rested his forearms on his knees. “How’s business?”
“We stay busy. Everyone wants tile in their houses—except your mama. Right now we’re doing a project for a retired general who wants the Army Seal in the middle of the foyer. So we’re cutting little pieces of tile to make cannonballs, a suit of armor, and flags. It’s beautiful—we’re about half done—and it’s labor-intense, which means pricy. So the general’s happy, and so are we.”
Painstaking, repetitive work. That sounded like just what Calvin needed. When he had to focus hard on what he was doing, time went faster and things went better. It was when his mind wandered that he worried.
But a call from the hallway was going to keep him focused enough. “Dinner’s ready!” Gran yelled. “Bring your appetites, your blessings, and your thanks to the cooks.”
* * *
Lucy had finished her Saturday chores and was considering a trip to Sam’s in Tulsa to restock her baking ingredients and wondering what Joe was up to. She could easily make the journey alone, but it was always nicer with someone to talk to on the long drive—and face it, to heft those fifty-pound bags of flour and sugar into her cart and then her car.
After wiping down the kitchen counters, she walked into the living room, rubbing lotion into her hands, her fingers bumping over her wedding rings every time she swiped. There on the sofa lay Norton, back scooted against the cushions, a pillow under his head, and nestled against him, tucked into the curve of his chin, was the pitiful kitten Joe had rescued last week. Lucy had tried to send it home with him, but Joe had tap-danced out of it, leaving her with a kitten she really didn’t want.
Both animals lifted their heads to look at her, then resumed their usual task of doing nothing.
When the doorbell rang, Lucy was surprised. No one came over without calling first. Well, Joe did, but civilized grown-ups didn’t, and he only rang the bell on the times he was too lazy to dig out his keys. She checked the peep hole—a few years ago he had lowered the old one so she could see—then she pulled the door open. “John! What a pretty boy you are. And so happy.” She swung him from his mother’s arms, then added, “Hi, Ilena. Come on in. What brings you two out on such a gloomy day?”
“It’s not so gloomy. The sun’s there. You just can’t see it for the rain.” Ilena slipped off the quilt that was keeping John dry, then shrugged out of her coat and hung both over the back of a kitchen chair. “Where’s Joe?”
“Did you hear your silly mama?” Lucy said in a baby-soft voice before making smoochy sounds at John. “I’m going to put a sign on both doors that says, ‘Attention: Joe Cadore does not live here. He just spends way too much time here. His house is the white one’—and I’m gonna paint an arrow pointing that way.”
John laughed delightedly, making the lost-her-chance wife and mother inside Lucy embrace her tightly from inside out. A couple minutes with Ilena’s cutie patootie, and she was a happier woman. That was a lot of magic for a five-month-old to wield.
“And why does Joe spend so much time here?” Ilena asked slyly.
“Because I feed him.”
Ilena blew a raspberry.
“Because he can dump strays on me and I take them.”
“Oh, Norton’s not a stray—” Looking over at the dog, all comfy on the couch, Ilena broke off. Circling around, she sat on the coffee table for a better look. “What’s the name of the little teeny guy lying way too close to Norton’s mouth? Dinner?”
“I thought of that, though for Norton, he’d only be an appetizer. I also considered Conair since it took me two hours to thaw him out from last week’s ice storm and get him warm and dry again. And I gave some thought to Keurig because I drank a dozen cups of coffee to stay awake that night for fear he would die if I closed my eyes. The last option was Lazy Bum, for Joe, who brought him into my house, wrapped him in a towel, and said, ‘Here you go, Luce. Happy Saturday.’”
Ilena cautiously lifted the kitten from the couch, settling him on her lap. Norton’s suspicious gaze never left them. “Which one did you settle on?”
“Sebastian.”
“Poor Sebastian. Sweetie, your name’s bigger than you are.”
Lucy and John watched Ilena gently stroke the kitten before Lucy said, “Hmm…you know, John will need a pet before long. A little boy would probably love a little kitten who could snuggle with him and purr when he babbles.”
“Oh, no,” Ilena said in her sternest voice. “I’m already coping with one nonverbal creature who needs constant care. I’m not adding another.”
“Darn,” Lucy said, though she wasn’t really disappointed. She had never said to herself, I want a half-frozen kitten, but since she’d gotten one, she was making the best of it. Besides, Norton curling up to sleep on his bed with Sebastian and his yellow ducky sharing equal places of honor guaranteed her at least one smile a day.
Ilena replaced the kitten next to the dog, then stood up and brushed her skirt down. “I came to talk to you about your business.”
Pleasure skittered through Lucy, settling somewhere in her chest.
“Remember my old boss Brody? Actually, I probably talked more about his wife the witch than I did him.”
Lucy nodded. The conversations were memorable for two reasons: because it was out of character for Ilena to talk badly about someone else, and because the wife really had been a witch to all the poor unfortunates who crossed paths with her.
“Alicia Anne fancied herself a caterer, so Brody bought a little place for her to set up shop in. Before she actually cooked anything in the new building, she decided the summers here were too hot, so he sold the real estate office and they moved to Florida.”
“Because of course it never gets hot there.”
Ilena grinned at Lucy’s snark. “Anyway, Alicia Anne won’t let him sell the building because…well, even Brody doesn’t understand why, but he figures he should recoup at least some of his investment, so he’s looking for a tenant. He completely redid the kitchen for Alicia Anne, though she decided they had to move as soon as that was done, so the dining room needs work. The rent is really reasonable—”
She stated a number that raised Lucy’s brows. She could totally pay that for a year from her savings, which was how much time she’d given herself to prove Prairie Harts could succeed. She wasn’t expecting total self-sufficiency, much less a profit, in that time, but at least some evidence that either or both were somewhere on the horizon.
“The downside is that the location isn’t the best—one of the reasons Alicia Anne changed her mind, I’m sure. It’s on North First Street.” Ilena wrinkled her nose and raised her brows. “But you see the potential, don’t you? You want to go see it, don’t you?”
North First was that section of street leaving town that every town had: empty lots, a motel, a flower shop, a gas station, a garage. It lacked the charm of downtown Tallgrass and the commercial traffic of East Main and the first few blocks of South First. But a kitchen she could afford…a space that met her needs both for catering now and a bakery/restaurant later…
“Of course I want to see it. Can we go now? Just let me clean up.”
After handing John to his mother, Lucy went to the bedroom, opened both closet doors, and stared for a moment before pulling out a brand-new pair of miracle-fiber jeans that were like Spanx for her entire lower body. Even her feet looked better in the jeans. She added a snug-fitting sweater that stopped an inch below her waist and boots that barely cleared her ankles—her punishment for having fat ankles and calves that wouldn’t fit in a pair of knee boots to save her life. She put on rings, bracelets, a necklace, and perfume, and headed back to the living room.
“Oh, I like your hair down, Lucy,” Ilena said happily. “You’re so pretty.”
A flush warmed her face. She had never had the delicate/pale/blond beauty Ilena took for granted, but she was feeling happier with her own self these days. Not pretty yet—still too round for that—but getting there.
“And you went shopping! How many sizes have you lost?”
“Two. Three if I don’t breathe.”
“Oxygen’s overrated.” Ilena hefted John to her shoulder while Lucy gathered her coat, purse, and keys, then they piled into Ilena’s SUV for the short drive to the restaurant.
It sat alone in the middle of a block that was only half the usual size. The parking lot was gravel and bumpy, and patches of yellow weeds attested to how rarely it saw traffic. The building was sandstone across the front, brick on the sides, and large windows looked in on a largely empty room with construction debris on one side and a dusty display cabinet on the other. It was kind of sad and lonely looking, but Lucy could all too easily envision landscaping, scrumptious pastries in the display case, a homey dining room, and the wonderful, yeasty, buttery aromas of deliciousness in the ovens.
She absolutely loved it.
Chapter 5
Come walk with me to deliver that pie I just made.”
Bennie looked up from the middle of her bed. Her laptop was open on one side, her tablet on the other, and a good old-fashioned textbook sat in the middle. Except for a break for lunch, she’d been studying all day, and she was pretty sure her brain had run out of room for new facts a while ago. Taking off the glasses she had to wear after a few hours of digital reading, she pinched the bridge of her nose, then smiled at Mama. “You’re giving that coconut cream pie away? And here I thought you’d made it for me, since I’m the biggest fan of your pies in the whole universe.”
“I made one for us, too. Come on. Put some shoes on and let’s get us some fresh air.”
Because she did need fresh air, and because she didn’t like Mama wandering off through the neighborhood alone, Bennie swung her feet to the floor and slid them inside her favorite scuffed-up clogs. They had a wedge heel that kept her jeans from dragging on the ground, and nubby wool socks would keep her feet warm.
Brushing curls back from her face, she followed Mama to the living room and slipped her arms into her favorite jean jacket. Already wearing her own jacket, Mama waited at the door, a plastic cake carrier carefully balanced by its handles.
“Which of our neighbors is the lucky one today?” Bennie asked as they made their way down the steps, then along the sidewalk to the street.
“I haven’t decided yet. Might be the first one I see. Might be the last house I pass before I decide to come back home.”
Mama’s method was no more scientific than that. Knowing that, on cool fall days when she baked pies and tarts from the apples that fell in their yard, the whole neighborhood would be out on their porches or in their own yards, hoping her randomness would pick them.
“It’s a lovely day to be out, isn’t it?” Mama asked with a satisfied sigh.
The temperature was just low enough that Bennie could have used a heavier jacket, and the sun had no intention of coming out to play. The rain had stopped, though. Plus, Mama routinely announced that every day a person woke up was a lovely one—as opposed to the alternative—and no one ever won an argument with Mama.
“Tonight’s trick or treat.”
“Oh, yay.” Not. Bennie had been officially over Halloween since high school. All the day meant now was too much candy, too much spending, and too many parents giving their kids an early start on the idea of getting something for nothing.
Mama, on the other hand, had a decidedly different point of view. “What are you dressing up as?”
“A hardworking student who needs to learn microbiology before the test on Tuesday.”
Mama gave her a chiding look. “I’m going to be a witch. I have a pointy hat and a wart to put on my nose, and I’m going to wear my ruby slippers. I’ve been practicing my cackle. How does this sound?”
She unleashed a laugh that made Bennie laugh, then fake a shiver. “Spooky.”
“Nobody will dare prank me. They’ll be too scared.”
She was right about the first part. There wasn’t a kid in the neighborhood who would think of toilet-papering her yard or egging her house, but it wasn’t because they were scared of her. It was a matter of respect and love, though if they needed a little fear to keep them on the straight and narrow, Bennie would be happy to provide it.
“And we have a winner.” Cheerfully, Mama turned into the next driveway, her short legs making long strides while Bennie dragged in dismay. The Sweet house. Had Mama planned to come here all along, or had she just chosen the family because Justice, sitting on the porch, was the first neighbor they’d seen—
Bennie’s feet came to an abrupt halt without input from her brain. That wasn’t Justice sitting still as a statue in the red rocker. No, it was a younger version, a taller one, a leaner one.
It was Calvin.
“Mama!” she whispered, but by now her grandmother was just a few yards short of the porch steps.
What was she supposed to do now? Of course she knew what Mama expected of her: following along obediently, smiling, and being friendly. But that wasn’t Bennie’s first choice. Maybe standing at the end of the driveway like a fool while Mama dropped off the pie? Mama never just dropped off a pie. She would stay and visit, say hello to Justice and Elizabeth, and give Miss Emmeline an opportunity to take credit for teaching her how to make that special meringue.
Or she could run back home like a coward.
Oh, no. Benita Pickering Ford was not and had never been a coward. She’d been standing up for herself all her life, knowing first her daddy and then Mama had her back, but she hadn’t relied on them too often. She fought her own battles and stood up to her own bullies.
And Calvin Sweet wasn’t going to change that.
Stiffening her spine, she strode along the driveway, reaching the steps just a few seconds behind Mama. She followed the old lady up, folded her arms across her middle, and waited strong and steady for the confrontation to come.
“I heard you were in town,” Mama said with a broad grin. “About a week, isn’t it, and you haven’t come to see me so I can hug your neck yet.”
“I, uh…” That may have been all he meant to say. It was hard to tell since Mama had hold of his neck, and it was even harder to tell from ten feet away if she was hugging him or strangling him.
J’Myel had always accused Mama of using a hug as an excuse to get him into a headlock. That’s because you’ve always been up to something, Mama responded. For every hug you deserve, you’ve probably earned two headlocks.
Bennie’s chest tightened. After J’Myel died, she’d become an expert at breathing using just a tiny portion of her lungs. Filling them took too much effort, gave her mind too much time to run through a million precious memories. In the moments it took her to breathe deeply, a tear could fall, and the first one was always followed by a flood of tiny, salty, anguished ones that didn’t end until she was a limp, exhausted, soggy mess. And she would not let Calvin turn her into a soggy mess.
With her hands tightened into fists, she took another breath, then slowly directed her gaze past Mama to finally settle on Calvin for the first time in years. At the moment, she couldn’t remember exactly when things had started going wrong between them, when J’Myel had stopped starting every sentence with Me and Calvin…It had been years. A lifetime. Too much time had passed, too many hurts, to ever forgive.
He was six feet tall, but even after all the years of working out and literally running for his life, he was as lean as ever. J’Myel had bulked up tremendously. When he’d come home for their wedding, he’d had to borrow a dress uniform from one of his friends because his muscles didn’t fit into his old one anymore.
