A Second Helping Page 4

  “No. Riley and Cletus.”

  He shrugged. “You’d think it’d be hard for Riley to hide a hog that big for this long, but they’ve been on the lam for going on eight months now, and so far, no word or sightings. Sheriff Dalton’s warrant is still out on them, though,” he added.

  Bernadine shook her head. She’d had some real memorable experiences while living in Henry Adams, but the mess with Cletus and Riley and their involvement with Morton Prell’s death had to be at the top of the list. As Amari said at the time, “Death by hog. That’s wack.”

  “I see your office is done,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Yep. They finished the last of the interior details a few days ago.”

  “So, when are you moving in?”

  He responded with a slight squirm that reminded her of Amari’s, so she asked cautiously, “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t need an office, Bernadine.”

  “You’re the mayor, Trent. Mayors have offices.”

  “I know—”

  “But?”

  “Why can’t I do what I do from the garage?”

  “Because you can’t hold business meetings in the garage.”

  “Why not? It’s worked okay up until now.”

  She sat back and eyed him.

  He grinned. “Uh oh. Here it comes.”

  “Back in the day, when you and Tamar and the seniors ran things, meeting in the garage worked fine, but the town’s too big now, or at least it will be. We’re going to have new buildings to staff and maintain. We have construction projects going on, and we’re doing business with partners from Hays to Miami. You can’t be mayor in between fixing old cars.”

  He sighed.

  “And if you tell me you want to quit, don’t even try it. You’re the duly elected mayor and your citizens need you.”

  “The guilt card. You need to quit hanging out with Tamar.”

  “I always run with the best.”

  “No appealing this to a higher court, I assume.”

  She gave him that look again.

  He grinned and threw up his hands. “Okay, I surrender. Let me finish up a few things at the garage, and I’ll move in after that.”

  Bernadine knew he was being purposefully vague, but she didn’t call him on it. “That’s fine. Did I mention the biggest benefit of all?”

  “No.”

  “Lily. Her office is right next door.”

  “The dagger.”

  Bernadine enjoyed Trent’s friendship. Were it not for his engineering background, last fall’s initial construction season might have run less smoothly. For a moment she debated telling him about her earlier visit from Amari, but decided against it. Amari said he had some things to work out first. She’d let him tell Trent about his desire to become a full-fledged July when he felt ready. “If you need help unpacking or setting up, just let me know. Maybe I’ll even ask Lily to help.”

  He got to his feet and shook his head. “You’re hard on a man, Bernadine Brown.”

  “See you later, Mayor July.”

  Chuckling, he exited.

  On his way back to the garage, Trent put in a call to Rocky. Her real name was Rochelle Dancer and she’d always had a special place in his heart. The failure of her less-than-a-month-long marriage had sent her to the East Coast to try and sort out her life, but he missed her friendship almost as much as he missed her cooking. The call to her cell phone went through, but he got her voice mail. After leaving her a message to get in touch, he ended the call.

  Down in Texas, Eustasia Pennymaker looked at the beautiful bride and handsome groom, and felt as giddy as if this were her own wedding. Holding the video cam to her eye, she said, “Turn for Mama, Chocolate, I want to get the full effect of the veil. Let’s show the folks why I sent all the way to Vienna for that lace.”

  Chocolate was a three-hundred-pound sow. She was dressed in a custom-made white silk gown complete with a lace-edged, two-foot train that matched the veil. Eustasia spent a few more minutes filming her baby, then turned the cam’s lens on the groom, a six-hundred-pound hog named Cletus. Wearing Ray-Bans, he was outfitted in a black tux with a white insert and bow tie. When he stopped, seemingly to pose for her, Eustasia cooed, “You’re a star, aren’t you, big boy? Yes you are.”

  Eustasia had sent out a slew of wedding invitations for the event, mostly to local politicians and the state’s biggest hog farmers, but this prewedding video was destined for the Internet. She was sure it would be a sensation. “Riley?” she called out. “Any guests arrive yet?”

  He was standing up on the huge deck anchored to the back of her Texas-sized mansion.

  “Not yet, honey bun.”

  She ran her eyes lovingly over the man she knew as Riley Baker. He was Cletus’s owner, and had coordinated his outfit to match the hog’s, even down to the Ray-Bans, which Eustasia found quite sexy. She’d met Riley and Cletus eight months ago in the parking lot of a McDonald’s. After they moved in, Cletus took an instant liking to Chocolate and Chocolate to Cletus, so Eustasia knew it was going to be a match made in heaven. She and Riley were getting along like two hogs in a mud hole too. Life was good. She offered him up a wave and went back to shooting her video.

  From his spot on the deck, Riley, whose real last name was Curry and not Baker, returned the wave and looked out at the crew of Mexican servants putting the finishing touches to what had to be the biggest bash he’d ever seen in his sixty-seven years of living. There were at least a hundred tables set out across the sprawling yard. Each wore a snow-white tablecloth draped with pink and brown silk ribbons. Chocolate’s favorite colors, according to Eustasia. More pink and brown ribbons accented the white roses covering the pergola constructed especially for the grand occasion. The wedding ceremony would be conducted beneath it, so rows of chairs for the guests fanned out around it.

  Meeting Eustasia at that McDonald’s last fall had been a godsend. Who wouldn’t want to live in a mansion owned by a big, beautiful, redheaded Texas millionairess who loved hogs as much as he? She’d provided them everything from clothing to feed, opening not only her home and her barns, but her bedroom for hanky-panky activities Riley hadn’t concerned himself with in years, so his life was good too. Up to a point.

  He hadn’t told Eustasia his real last name, or that he and Cletus were on the run because of the death of Morton Prell, a nasty old extortionist Cletus killed in self-defense. After the incident, the county took Cletus away and locked him up in an outdoor pen with the intent of holding a hearing to determine Cletus’s fate. Riley knew they were going to put Cletus down, so one night, before the county paperwork could come through, he broke Cletus out, put him in the bed of his old white pickup, and left town. They’d been on the lam since.

  As a result, he didn’t like the idea of Eustasia filming the wedding and putting it on the Internet. Had he known about it earlier he might have hidden the camcorder or “accidentally” dropped the thing, so it wouldn’t work. Now, however, he could only watch and worry. He didn’t know much about cyberspace but he did know that millions of people around the world flocked to it like a religion, and he was scared that one of those millions would be someone with ties to the Kansas law enforcement agencies. He and Cletus had had a great time spending the winter with Eustasia, but all this publicity meant it was time to move on. He had no clear idea where they’d go next, but he’d been thinking about heading across the south, maybe to Florida.

  He watched Eustasia greeting the first of the guests. His disappearance would break her heart, Chocolate’s too, because she and Cletus seemed genuinely in love. However, recapture wasn’t something he and Cletus could afford, so it was imperative that they not stay in one place too long. Continued flight was all they had.

  Amari enjoyed the communal dinners Ms. Bernadine was always arranging, and this evening they’d gathered at Tamar’s to welcome everyone home from vacation. Amari had been so happy to see Preston he’d grabbed him like they’d been separated for ye
ars. “Missed you, my man.”

  “Missed you too, dog. Looks like everybody’s here,” Preston said.

  “Yep.”

  Ms. Lily was talking with Trent, Malachi, Bing, and Clay Dobbs. Preston’s foster parents, Colonel Payne and his wife, Sheila, were on the far side of the room laughing at some story big-time singer Roni Garland was telling while her smiling husband, Dr. Reg, the town’s pediatrician, looked on. Ms. Agnes was bending Ms. Bernadine’s ear about lord only knew what. Ms. Agnes was still in her right mind but she was approaching ninety years old.

  Amari asked, “You say hello to Crystal yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me either. Guess we have to bite the bullet, huh?”

  “I guess,” Preston replied skeptically.

  Crystal was seated on the couch with Zoey, the Garlands’ seven-year-old mute foster daughter, and Devon Watkins, Zoey’s best friend. Devon was decked out in yet another suit.

  Preston shook his head at the little boy’s formal attire. “When is he going to stop dressing like the president?”

  Amari grinned and shrugged.

  The two of them walked up just as Zoey was showing Crystal the new Barbie she’d gotten in New York. The doll was wearing all green, from the top of her fly hat to the bottom of her peep-toe heels.

  “Zo, aren’t you tired of all this green?” Crystal was asking her. “You really need to get a new color.”

  Zoey shook her head. Green was the color of her late mother’s eyes, so it was her favorite. It was also the color of the Disney Princess tee she was wearing with her belted black jeans.

  Crystal told her, “You’re going to get so fixated, Ms. Bernadine’s going to have to call in Dr. Phil.”

  Zoey smiled at Crystal’s teasing and shrugged as if to say she didn’t care.

  Crystal handed the doll back. “Okay. Do you, girl, but I’ll tell Ms. Bernadine to put Dr. Phil on speed dial, just in case.”

  The two girls grinned at each other.

  Crystal looked up at Amari and Preston. “What do you two want?”

  “We just came to say hey to Zoey and Devon. Excuse us for trying to be polite, your majesty.”

  “Beat it.”

  So they did.

  Outside on the porch they took seats on the steps to wait to be called for dinner. Crystal all but forgotten, Amari asked, “So, what was it like being around all those marines?”

  “Boring with a capital B,” Preston grumbled. “I’ve never seen so many stiff-assed people, in or out of uniform, in my life. Women too. Except the one that kept trying to hit on the colonel.”

  “What?” Amari shouted.

  “Keep your voice down,” Preston warned, looking around hastily to make sure they hadn’t been overheard by anyone inside. “Yeah. Some military nurse. She was acting like maybe she’d been the colonel’s boo back in the day.”

  “Did Mrs. Payne check her?”

  “Nope, but I could see the mad in her eyes.”

  “When was this?”

  “First day we got there. There was a dinner that night. The nurse sat at our table. By the look on Mrs. Payne’s face, I knew the nurse hadn’t been invited to sit with us.”

  “Man.”

  “No kidding. All the nurse lady kept talking about was how much fun she and the colonel had while he was healing up from some wound he got during Desert Storm.”

  “Fun?”

  “Yep. No telling what that meant, but the next day, Mrs. Payne rented a car and she and I went to Disney World for the duration. You ever been there?”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s great, man. Maybe we can get your dad and the O.G. to take just me and you sometime. It was off the hook.”

  But Amari was still mulling over the conversation about Colonel and Mrs. Payne. He took a real interest in people, especially the ones he now called family, and the Paynes qualified as that. What part had this nurse played in the past lives of Preston’s foster parents?

  “Amari? You still on the planet?”

  He looked up to see Preston standing. “Sorry, man. What?”

  Preston smiled. “Tamar just called us. It’s time to eat. Let’s go.”

  “Okay. Right behind you.”

  During the renovation of Tamar’s home last fall, one of the items on her wish list had been a larger dining room and kitchen. The wish had been granted, and now she had more than enough room to house everyone. Lily, like everyone else, was helping to set the tables. The adults were going to be seated at the big new one and the children were around the old one brought in from the kitchen. Of course, Crystal had issues with the seating.

  “Why do I have to sit with the little kids?” she complained loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Lily set a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes down on the kiddie table. “Because you keep whining like a little kid about where you’re sitting.”

  Snickers from Amari and Preston instantly drew Crystal’s ire, but she took her seat without another word and Lily went back to her job.

  Once the tables were loaded down with food and everyone was seated, Tamar, reigning at the head of the grown folks table, quieted the room. “Devon, will you say grace, please?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The little eight-year-old ordained deacon stood. After everyone bowed their head, he began. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for this gathering and the bounty on our tables. Bless us with your love and guidance, and bless the hands that prepared this food. Please don’t forget the poor and the people who give them hope. In your son Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”

  Amens echoed in agreement.

  Plates were filled, and as folks dug in, conversation resumed.

  Lily surveyed this group of people she’d come to know and love. From the eldest to the youngest, they’d helped make her existence so much richer. Last year at this time, she’d been living in Atlanta. She’d just taken a corporate buyout, and although the money had given her the financial freedom she’d always craved, her so-called personal life had been nothing to celebrate. The man she’d been seeing was as boring as pond water, yet she’d considered marrying him. Thank God for Henry Adams and Bernadine Brown. The trip back to Henry Adams for her godmother Marie’s birthday party last summer turned Lily’s world upside down and inside out. Not only had she found purpose by working with Bernadine on revitalizing the town and fostering Devon, she’d rediscovered love with Trent July. As if knowing he was in her thoughts, he looked up from his plate and met her eyes. The wink he shot her made her grin.

  She glanced across the table at Sheila Payne. Although Lily didn’t know the colonel’s wife as well as she did, say, Bernadine, the women in town had forged a bond in the nine months they’d been neighbors, and it was plain to see that all was not right with Sheila. She’d always been somewhat reserved at these gatherings, but this evening she looked withdrawn and sad. Her manner made Lily wonder what was up. The colonel had never been the most open person either, but he seemed himself and didn’t appear aware of his wife’s mood. Lily had never been one to meddle in other people’s business, so she didn’t plan on asking Sheila for the 411, or on saying anything to Bernadine, but something about Sheila was definitely off.

  Amari noticed it too, but unlike Lily, Amari knew the reason. The sadness he saw in her eyes reminded him of the look in Mrs. Curry’s eyes when she lost her home because of Mr. Curry’s killer pig. Mrs. Curry had helped him a lot with his reading in school last year and he’d been trying to think of a special way to thank her that would also make her feel better about all the mess in her life. So far he hadn’t come up with anything, but he knew he would, he just had to keep thinking.

  He looked across the room to Tamar. The idea of having to face her was enough to make him break out into a sweat. Right now, however, his biggest concern lay in finishing the large bowl of homemade ice cream before him, so setting his worries aside, he concentrated on that.

  Had Preston, Lily, or Amari asked her, Sheila Payne would have to
ld them they were all correct. Sheila was not herself, and as she and Barrett drove home from the dinner at Tamar’s, the reason for her unhappiness could be laid at the feet of Sheila’s old nemesis, Martina “Marti” Nelson. Barrett met the surgical nurse in a military hospital while recuperating from a broken leg he’d sustained during Desert Storm and before anyone could say Semper fi, the two became lovers. Their affair lasted over a year. Although Sheila had known about the adulterous relationship early on, she’d had no idea what to do about it, or how to heal her hurt. A more confident woman like Lily or Bernadine might have confronted him, maybe even filed for divorce, but she hadn’t done either. She was a marine wife and the daughter of a naval officer. Military women weren’t supposed to complain. The corps had protocols for handling weapons and prisoners of war but nothing on handling adultery. Some of the other long-married military wives told her it was natural for a man his age to go sniffing around, and for her to sit tight, he’d come back to her eventually. They’d been right, but she hadn’t been sure she’d wanted him to. Barrett was intelligent, strong, and knew everything under the sun about warfare but apparently nothing about the self-incrimination inherent in coming home nights smelling of Jergens, a brand of soap neither his household nor the military used, and that’s how she’d known he was cheating.

  Now, after so many years had passed, Sheila thought those old wounds had healed, but the moment Marti walked over to greet them at the reunion and hugged Barrett a few beats longer than friendship warranted, her hurt and pain flared like a match on gasoline.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back,” Barrett said, interrupting her musings. “You feeling okay?”

  Staring out unseeingly at the landscape rolling past her window, she replied, “I’m fine. Just a little tired from the trip, I think.”

  “Are you sure?”

  This time she turned to face him. “Positive.”

  “Doc Garland can take a look at you if you want.”

  “I’m okay.” She had to admit, if she subtracted the affair, Barrett had been a good partner and provider. If only he loved her, even a tiny bit, she thought wistfully.