On the Corner of Hope and Main Read online

  With nothing else to discuss, the meeting adjourned, and everyone headed to their cars. In times past, had Bernadine been anywhere near her office on a Saturday, she would’ve sat down to work or grabbed some files to pore over at home. Instead, she did neither. She’d made a promise to herself to stop turning the world on weekends and relax like a normal person. It was difficult, though. Now that the owners of the new coffeehouse were no longer in town, the place would be run by the community college’s culinary students. Late yesterday, the lease agreement had finally been sent back by the college’s lawyers for her review. She also wanted to evaluate the architect’s drawings for the new restaurant she and Rocky James were planning to open. Those things and more were waiting on her desk, but she ignored their siren call and stepped out into the October sunshine.

  In the parking lot, Mal stood talking with Trent and Lily. Mal’s eyes met Bernadine’s, and the parts of herself that wanted to be with him warred with the parts that were still simmering. She’d never been so indecisive and was irritated at herself and at him for being the cause. To silence the inner debate, she got in her truck and drove toward home.

  On the way, her phone buzzed. She activated the hands-free link. “Hey, Crys.”

  “Hey, Mom. Just reminding you about dinner at my place tonight.”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” Eighteen-year-old Crystal lived in one of the lofts in the newly renovated Sutton Hotel on Main Street.

  “I have the food timed out, so I need you to be here at precisely six forty-five, okay?”

  “Got it. What’re you cooking?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Years earlier, that response would’ve scared her, but Crys was now an excellent cook, and Bernadine was looking forward to a good meal and to catching up.

  “And Mom, this is an elegant dinner, so I need you to look nice.”

  Bernadine wasn’t sure how to take that, but replied, “I’ll throw on my gold.”

  “Good. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  Bernadine entered her home in the small subdivision behind Main Street and stepped into silence. Crystal had moved out over the summer and Bernadine was still having difficulty adjusting to her absence. Crys was enrolled in the nearby community college and worked part-time as a waitress at the town’s diner, so they rarely went more than a day or two without seeing each other, but she missed having her at home. In the five years they’d been family, she’d grown accustomed to the sounds of Crys’s music flowing through the house, walking past her room and seeing her laughing with her friends on the phone, and being treated to whatever culinary magic she’d whipped up for dinner. She knew how much Crystal was enjoying having her own place, so kept the feelings of loss unspoken. A parent’s job was to raise a child with as much love and understanding as possible, and when they became of age, to set them free to try their wings. She was saddened by her empty nest, but proud that the former teen runaway with the ugly blond weave had grown into a smart, stylish, and artistic young woman now living on her own.

  Buoyed by that, Bernadine hung her jacket in the front closet. Her issues with Mal tried to rise, along with thoughts of the unattended work on her desk, but she pushed both aside. She was going to relax and to help her do that, she picked up the book written by the former First Lady of the United States and took it outside to read on the patio.

  She’d been reading for half an hour when she was interrupted by her phone. BFF Tina Craig’s name showed on the caller ID, so she set the book aside. “Hey, Ms. Tina. How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Good. Are you on your way here?” Tina would be opening a bed-and-breakfast just as soon as it was built by Trent and the construction team.

  “No. I’m stuck in Zurich. Malvina is being sued by the Prince of Whine for cutting off his support, so I’m here giving a deposition to her lawyers. How many times did we tell her not to marry him?”

  “Maybe a hundred.” Malvina Andreas was a member of the Bottom Women’s Society, a group composed of divorcées of some of the world’s wealthiest men. Bernadine and Tina were members as well. The Prince of Whine was Malvina’s second ex-husband. His real name was Francisco but had been given the nickname because the former boy toy, ski instructor was a spoiled, whiny pain in the butt.

  Tina added, “At least she listened to us about the prenup. He got to ride her gravy train for two years and now time’s up.”

  “What’s he suing for?”

  “Five more years of gravy. He told the court he can’t find a job.”

  She shook her head. “How long will you be there?”

  “Two, maybe three more days. What’s going on with you and Mal?”

  Bernadine didn’t respond.

  Tina didn’t let that stop her. “You need to either take the man back or cut him loose. This limbo is not fair to either of you.”

  Bernadine’s continued silence didn’t deter her friend, either. “We both know you love him, and yes, he screwed up royally, but he’s owned it, apologized, groveled. That’s way more than most men would do.”

  “He stole from me, Tina.”

  “Yes, but he also stole your heart, so, which means more at the end of the day? You can always get more money. With the investments I’ve set up, you’re making money while you sleep. Can you find another man who’s going to love you like he does?”

  Bernadine sighed.

  “And there’s always the chance that he’s going to get tired of waiting and decide to cut you loose, first. Then what?”

  “I can do without a man, Tina.”

  “True, but can you do without that man?”

  “I hate you right now,” Bernadine told her.

  “Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Bernadine smiled. “Get off my phone.”

  “I love you. Talk to you soon.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  At the end of the call, Bernadine sat thinking about her problem with Mal and it came to her that her issues were rooted in how the reconciliation began. After his disastrous encounter with Ruth Smith’s boxer brother that resulted in Mal being sucker punched and knocked out cold, he’d begged to be allowed to re-earn her trust. Instead of her taking that opportunity to come clean about the depths of her anger and disappointment, she’d done what most women were raised to do: she’d swallowed it and grudgingly agreed, putting his feelings first, thus sparing him the blasting he’d deserved. And because she’d let him off easy, and hadn’t given voice to her feelings, her anger and resentment were roiling like lava, leaving her mad at him and more importantly, at herself.

  MINDFUL OF CRYSTAL’S requested arrival time for dinner, Bernadine pulled into the parking lot of Sutton Hotel five minutes ahead of schedule. Getting out of her truck, she spotted Mal’s truck parked a few spaces over. The salon and coffee shop were open, so she assumed he was either getting his hair cut or picking up a coffee. Because she had no solution to her relationship dilemma, she didn’t want to run into him. So, entering the lobby, she headed straight to the elevator for the ride up to Crystal’s floor.

  Once there, she checked her watch. Seeing it was precisely 6:45, she knocked and was immediately welcomed in. “Hey Mom.”

  They shared a hug. Bernadine entered the apartment and saw standing in the middle of the room the man she’d hoped to avoid. Mal’s surprise mirrored hers. They glared at Crystal. She gave them a guilty grin and picked up her purse and keys. “Everything’s warming in the oven. Bon appétit.”

  Bernadine couldn’t believe she’d been played by her own child. Before she could give her a piece of her mind, Crystal was out the door and gone.

  Mal had the nerve to appear amused. “I guess she suckered you, too.”

  “You didn’t plan this with her?”

  He gave her a level look. “No.”

  Bernadine groused. “Wait until I see her again.”

  “I’m sure she meant well.”

  She
rolled her eyes. “She needs to stay out of grown folks’ business.”

  “You look nice.”

  “Thank you.” She’d chosen a gray cashmere sweater with a cowl neck, black pants, and a pair of black suede short-heeled booties. “You look nice, too.” In the time she’d known Mal, he’d never been one for suits. Instead he was wearing a nice blue shirt, bolo tie, pressed jeans, and a dark blue sport coat. His western-cut boots were black as was the Stetson in his hand. He looked like a dressed-up Wild West sheriff and was handsome as all get-out. She turned away.

  “So,” he said. “Since we’ve both been bamboozled, do you want to leave? Stay and eat with me? Your choice.”

  What she wanted was to read Crystal the riot act for playing matchmaker like she was Pearl Bailey in Hello Dolly. Tina’s advice got the better of her, though. “I’ll stay.”

  He offered a soft smile. “Good.”

  She didn’t know what was more potent, his mustache-accented smile, or that fine dark chocolate face. Not even the remnants of his broken nose marred his visual appeal. “Let’s see what she left us in the oven.”

  They found lemon pepper wings drizzled with honey, along with sliced and roasted little red potatoes, and seasoned green beans with shaved almonds. There was also a baguette of French bread. They filled their plates and took them over to Crystal’s small, glass-topped dining table. In the center of it stood a vase of fresh flowers flanked by two candles Bernadine assumed were to be lit for atmosphere. Shaking her head at her child’s romantic scheming, she removed the candles but left the vase.

  They took their seats. Mal surveyed his plate then took a few bites. “Not bad.”

  “The girl can cook. No denying that,” she replied.

  They ate in a silence that felt both familiar and awkward. Before the embezzlement, they’d shared countless meals filled with conversation and laughter. Now? The few meals they’d had recently lacked both. She glanced his way and he held her gaze for a long moment before turning attention back to his meal. When the reconciliation began, he’d sent daily hearts to her phone rather than call because easing slowly back into their interactions as a couple had been part of their agreement. But their talks had been as stiff and stifled as their dinners. Even though he’d done his best to draw her out, the barriers she’d erected remained in place. Apparently he sensed things weren’t working because the calls and hearts had petered to a stop. This dinner was their first time alone together in weeks.

  “I miss you,” he said quietly and raised his eyes to hers as if to gauge her reaction.

  “I miss you, too,” she replied truthfully. And she did. What they had was special.

  “So can we ease back into having dinner together again?”

  Once again, she felt put on the spot. “Mal, look—”

  He held up a hand. “It’s okay. No need to explain. It’s on me. I disrespected what we had big-time. I’ve begged forgiveness, and waited these past three months, hoping and praying we could start again. If you’re not feeling it, cool. Let’s just cut to the chase and end it. That way you can move on and I can, too. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, baby. I truly am.”

  With that he stood, took his plate to the sink, picked up his Stetson, and left the apartment.

  Stunned, Bernadine stared at the closed door, then snarled angrily at the man’s nerve.

  HOME FROM HIS barbering job at the Liberian Ladies and Gents Salon, Riley Curry surfed through the channels on his flat-screen TV hoping to find something worth watching. Now that Henry Adams had cable, there were hundreds of channels to choose from, but nothing looked interesting. In his perfect world, he’d still be at the salon closing up for the night instead of the sharp-tongued young woman in charge: Kelly Douglas. She was a friend of Bernadine Brown’s daughter, Crystal, and lord help the world if the former foster kid didn’t get her way, so Kelly was the boss and he just a lowly employee. Granted, Bernadine had thrown him a lifeline when he found himself homeless, by giving him a place to stay and a job, but he’d spent his entire seventy years determined to prove that he needed to be running things, even if it was just a barbershop.

  Once upon a time, he’d been the Henry Adams mayor and thought he’d done a good job, though many disagreed. He remained convinced that his plan to merge the town with neighboring Franklin had been sound. That he would’ve received a substantial kickback once the agreement was signed was neither here nor there. Politicians were rewarded for such backroom deals all the time.

  His musing was cut short upon seeing a familiar face on CNN. He quickly turned up the sound on the remote in time to hear the female reporter say: “In today’s entertainment news, the hog known as Cletus has been nominated for the first ever Animal Oscar for his starring role in Cletus Goes to Hollywood. Trainer Ben Scarsdale says both he and the movie idol porker are delighted with the honor.” The reporter moved on to the next news item, and Riley glanced over at the framed picture of Cletus in its spot on the fireplace mantel. He sighed. Cletus was the closest thing he had to a son and he missed him dearly. Riley told himself he’d gotten over the hog’s betrayal of choosing to return to Los Angeles with Scarsdale. It was a lie, though. He’d not heard a word from either since that awful day Scarsdale showed up in Henry Adams to take possession of Cletus due to Riley’s inability to pay the man’s bill for his services, but Riley had been keeping up with his hog’s rise to the top via the entertainment news shows and Cletus’s Instagram account.

  When Riley first got him as a piglet, he knew the hog was destined for stardom, and he told anyone who’d listen that one day Cletus would make him as rich as Howard Hughes. The prediction proved partly correct. Yes, Cletus was a star, but the only person getting rich was Scarsdale. There was nothing Riley could do but fume about it, however, so he spent his time cutting hair under Kelly’s eagle eye, while plotting his own re-rise to power. He was going to run for mayor again. Trent July, who currently held the position, wasn’t going to be on the ballot this time around, which in Riley’s mind was a good thing. July had been responsible for hiring the hit woman who’d shot the owners of the coffee shop last summer. After which the Russian Mafia came calling on Henry Adams, resulting in a big shoot-out on the edge of town. Had Riley had any say in the matter, July would’ve been tarred, feathered, and run out of town for being the cause of the murderous debacle. Since he hadn’t, he decided to be July’s replacement. As far as Riley knew, no one else had thrown their hat in the ring, so he’d win by default. Once elected he guaranteed there’d be no assassins masquerading as school janitors on his watch. No siree!

  Chapter

  3

  In her office on Monday morning, Bernadine scrolled through the coffee shop lease agreement. With the shop’s former owners once again leading anonymous lives in the government’s Witness Protection Program, Henry Adams and the community college were partnering to run the place. The agreement spelled out who would pay for what in terms of salary for the student workers, supplies, maintenance, and how profits would be divided. She found the wording fair but wanted Lily to give the terms a look before signing on the dotted line. Bernadine had been in the office since 6:00 a.m. Still angry at Mal, she hadn’t slept well the last two nights, so rather than spend another moment lying in bed tossing and turning she’d gotten up. Her hope was that work would give her something else to think about, but his action continued to gnaw at her. How dare he walk out as if he were the injured party instead of the one who put this whole mess into motion in the first place. There was her guilt, earned or not, that maybe she had strung him along too long and should have taken all his apologies in the spirit they’d been given and forgiven him. Also in play, as she noted before, was the common belief that women were supposed to assuage a man’s hurt feelings rather than their own. She kept telling herself that she loved Mal and wanted to be with him, but was her decision to keep him at arm’s length because she didn’t want to be hurt again, or just a means to further punish him for choosing to let him off easy.
She had no answers.

  “Morning, Bernadine.”

  Bernadine swung her blue leather chair around to face the door. “Morning, Lil.”

  “You okay?” Lily asked.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You weren’t in church yesterday, and rumors about you and Mal are flying around town like Ricochet Rabbit.”

  Bernadine leaned back in her blue leather chair and crossed her arms. “What’re folks saying?”

  “That you and Mal have called it quits.”

  “We have. His decision.”

  Lily paused. “Hate to be nosy but how are you feeling about it?”

  Bernadine shrugged and said truthfully, “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  “Just so you’ll know, Mal left town last night. He told Trent he was going to Oklahoma to hang out with Thad and the cousins.”

  “Hope he’ll be safe on the road. Now, I need to get back to work. Would you look over your copy of the lease agreement for the coffee shop and let me know if anything needing tweaking jumps out at you?”

  Appearing concerned, Lily nodded. “Okay, but if you want to talk. I’m here.”

  “I know. I’m good for now. Promise.”

  Lily didn’t appear convinced. “I’ll check out the contract.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lily made her exit and Bernadine returned to her computer screen. She didn’t want to talk about Mal.

  But folks in and around Graham County did. In homes, beauty shops, gas stations, and grocery stores Bernadine Brown and Mal July were the topic du jour. Rumors were rampant. One had it that Crystal had come back to her place to find them screaming at each other. Another version claimed Bernadine caught him embezzling again, and that he’d left town one step ahead of the law. Some folks agreed with her keeping him at arm’s length, while others took Mal’s side, proclaiming he’d done everything possible to make amends short of slaying a dragon.

  As the days passed, Bernadine heard it all and ignored it all. She had work to do.