A Wish and a Prayer (14 page)

“You don't want to hear it. I've already called the sheriff.”

Acknowledging her fear, but determined not to let it paralyze her, Bernadine got up and walked to Lily's office. “Let me hear it.”

“You know you don't have to do this.”

“Lily, play the tape.”

The distorted voice came through the speakers with all the evilness she remembered. “Evening, Ms. Brown. How's it feel being scared to death? Good, I hope. You and I are going to get together real soon, and I can't wait.” The bone-chilling laugh ended the transmission, and she forced herself not to rub her hands over the frigid tremors running up her arms.

“Sick bastard,” Lily snapped angrily and stopped the recording.

Lord.
“Dalton on his way?”

“Yes.”

Bernadine took in a deep, bracing breath. Her life was suddenly brimming over with worries and drama, issues and threats, and it wasn't even Friday.

Chapter 15

A
fter school, had Preston been privy to Bernadine's thoughts, he would've heartily concurred. It had been a super long week in his world, too, and he still had Friday to go. By his estimation, they'd be done painting the Jefferson fence by tomorrow afternoon, but that was tomorrow. For now, they were still painting, and as he dipped his brush in the pan for what seemed like the millionth time, he swore to never do anything to put himself in this stupid position again. “I am never painting this fence again!” he yelled out in irritation.

On the other side of the fence, Amari painted and grumbled, “Me either. This sucks.”

“My hands look like they belong to a ghost. Probably be months before all this stuff washes off.”

“When I grow up and get my own crib, I'm not having any white walls. I'm hating on white paint right now.”

“Me, too.”

“Not hating on Leah though, I'll bet.”

Preston paused. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Quit playing dumb. I heard what she said about you at lunch yesterday. You coughed so hard, I thought your eyes were going to pop off your face.”

“Ignoring you, Amari,” Preston replied and moved to the next picket on his side.

“Too late for that, my man. I'm your BFF.”

Preston had to grin on that one. He was right. They were best friends, and it felt good knowing he had one.

Amari stroked the slat on his side. “You like her, and now it looks like she likes you back.”

“Maybe. Let's not get it twisted.”

“I understand. This girl thing is complicated. My dad says it only gets worse when you get older.”

“You talk to him about stuff like this?”

“Sure. I can talk to him about anything, at least so far.”

“Must be nice.”

This wasn't the first time Preston had envied Amari's relationship with Trent. From the very first day Preston came to town, he'd thought Trent July was special. He and Amari had both expressed the hope that Trent July would be their foster dad, but because each foster parent could only take one child, Amari and Trent's love for cars made them an easy match, and Preston went with the Paynes.

Amari was checking him out with the thoughtful look he always wore when family was concerned. “I've been telling you for years that you and the colonel are going to be okay. You'll see.”

Preston believed it, but then again he didn't believe it, if that made any sense.

Amari added, “You and Leah too.”

They smiled at each other through the fence.

“So what happened with Devon and this Flame thing? Did Miss Lily make you help?”

“Of course, so as soon as we get off this wack lockdown, she said she'd find us a video to watch. My dad said this Brown guy was the shizzle back in the day and that Devon was right about Michael Jackson copying his moves. He said every kid in America knew Brown's dance moves when he and Mom and the OG were growing up.”

“The OG, too?”

“Yeah. I guess Brown would be just a little older than the OG if he was still alive.”

“So we have to be Flames?” Preston asked disconsolately.

“Yeah, but at least we don't have to put lye in our hair.”

Preston stopped in mid stroke. “Lye?”

“You know, I think something is really wrong with Devon. He asked Mom if he could get a process.”

“What's that?”

“From the way Dad explained it, it was something guys did to their hair back then to make it real straight.”

“Sort of like a perm?”

Amari stopped and seemed to think on that. “Yeah. I guess so. Mom and Dad tried to explain it to me, but I didn't get it. They talked about lye and heat and curlers.”

“Curlers? Devon wanted us to wear curlers!”

“Told you. Something real wrong with him, Brain. Real wrong.”

An appalled Preston agreed. He was liking this whole Flame business less and less.

When the two hours were up for the day, they gathered their gear, stashed it in Ms. Marie's garage, and washed up. Done, they grabbed their backpacks, hopped on their bikes, and pedaled toward home.

To Preston's surprise, Mrs. Payne was seated at the kitchen table. “Hey, Mrs. Payne.”

“Hey back. You look tired. How's the fence detail going?”

“We should be done by tomorrow, hopefully. Do you think you can drive me and Amari over to the Franklin library Saturday morning so we can work on our papers?”

“I can't because of the groundbreaking, but I'm sure Barrett can. So have you found out who Euripides is?”

“Yeah. He's a Greek playwright.”

“Very good. I know you all are grumbling because of the assignment, but I love the way Mr. James thinks.”

“We don't. What smells so good?”

“Tomato sauce. We're having spaghetti.”

Her spaghetti was one of his favorites. “Where's the colonel?”

“Helping Bing with the planning for the parade. He should be here shortly. Something you want to speak to him about?”

“Maybe, but it can wait.” He wanted to have a father-son talk, or at least that was his plan, even if he wasn't sure it was a good one.

“Okay. Go get your shower, and when you come back, we'll eat.”

The spaghetti was off the hook. Because he was starving, he ate two big platefuls along with a salad and some garlic bread. And as he sat back, content and full, he once again noted how much better life was now than the one he'd had in foster care.

The colonel arrived home a short while later, and the discussion at the table ranged from the parade to the FUFA demonstrators to a news story Mrs. Payne had seen earlier about a young woman in Australia discovering the whereabouts of the universe's missing matter.

Preston's eyes popped. “Really?” Scientists had been trying to find the location for ages. “And she's an intern, not a real physicist yet?” he asked. That was so awesome that a young person had been able to do something the big guys hadn't.

“She's a twenty-two-year-old undergrad student at the University of Melbourne, studying aerospace engineering and science,” Mrs. Payne said, apparently enjoying his reaction.

“That is so awesome.”

The colonel said, “Explain this missing matter thing, Preston.”

Preston was so excited all he wanted to do was run upstairs to his computer and read everything he could find about the discovery, but then he remembered he was on punishment. He couldn't even call Leah to ask if she'd heard about it.
Man!
Swallowing his disappointment, he launched into a kiddie version of why the news was so important. “Science knows there's a bunch of matter left over from the beginning of the universe, but nobody's been able to find it.”

“So is this the dark matter I sometimes hear you and Leah talking about?”

“No,” he said. “This is the regular kind. Mrs. Payne, did the news say how she did it?”

“Something to do with X-rays, I believe.”

“Wow. I wonder where she found it?”

“Galaxy filaments?” she responded, sounding unsure.

“Man, I sure wish I could use my computer—hint, hint.”

The colonel lifted his glass of water. “Hint acknowledged and ignored.”

Preston looked down at his plate, but rather than feel sorry for himself, he smiled. That Mrs. Payne had taken the time to listen to the news story and tell him about it meant a lot; that said she cared. “Thanks for knowing I like this kind of stuff.”

She nodded. “That's a good parent's job, right, Barrett?”

“Right.”

It was Preston's day to do dishes, so after the meal Mrs. Payne went to her office to work on details for the groundbreaking, and he loaded the dishwasher while the colonel put away the leftovers. They talked about the day, his term paper, and that Ms. Brown had received another nasty call. “I hope they catch this person soon.”

“So do I.”

Preston closed the dishwasher door and started it up. “Can we go out on the deck and talk for a minute?”

“Sure.”

They stepped outside. The colonel took a seat at the glass-topped table, but Preston remained standing, leaning back against the wooden rail.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Girls.”

The colonel appeared slightly amused. “And what about them?”

“How do you figure out what they mean when they say stuff?”

“Honestly? I have no idea, but give me an example.”

He told the colonel about what Leah had said at lunch yesterday.

“How'd it make you feel?”

“After I finished sucking on my inhaler, I felt really good.”

“So you like her?”

“I do. She's so smart. She's fun, and she knows how to stand up for herself.”

“And catches a pretty mean pass.”

Preston agreed. During the football game last Thanksgiving between Henry Adams and the team made up of the Oklahoma Julys, Henry Adams had taken a butt kicking and lost badly, but Leah had scored twice on two long touchdown passes from Trent. “I think I want to ask her to be my girlfriend, but I never had one before, so I'm not sure how to do it.” Preston thought that over for a moment. “And what if she says, ‘No, get away from me, fool'?”

“That's always on the table when you deal with women, but no guts, no glory. You know?”

Preston supposed he was right. “How did you know Mrs. Payne was the one?”

“Couldn't eat or sleep without thinking about her. Always wanted to know what she was doing, or where she was. Heart would speed up whenever she looked at me.”

“That's sorta how I feel about Leah.”

“Then do something for me?”

“I'll try.”

“Whoever winds up being the one for you, don't take her feelings for granted and treat her like I did Mrs. Payne.”

Preston nodded. “Are you two okay? You aren't going to get a divorce or anything, are you?”

“No.”

“Good. Because if you did, I'd probably have to move to another foster home, and I kinda like it here.”

“And I like having you here.”

Preston wanted that to be the truth so badly.

As if he'd read his mind, the colonel added, “I really do. As for Leah? I say, go for it.”

“Okay. I'll let you know what happens.”

“I'd like that, too.”

Preston felt some of the stress lessen inside. “This wasn't so bad.”

“You mean the two of us talking?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it went pretty well. We won't ever be Trent and Amari, but we can be Barrett and Preston, and who knows, I may even learn enough about physics to hold a decent conversation with you about it someday soon, so tell me more about this missing matter.”

B
ernadine got a late-night call from Kyle Dalton. Her tormentor had made this latest call from a pay phone at a campground up near Riverton, a small town north of Henry Adams.

“Place has no security cams, and it's located right off the highway, so still no way of knowing who our perp is.”

More disappointment.

“I'll ride up there in the morning and take a look around. No word as of yet on the tape.”

Frustration made her sigh. “Okay, Kyle. Thanks.”

“Sorry I don't have better news, but you're welcome. Oh, and I'm no longer attached to the Bureau. All my paperwork's cleared, so I'm officially a county deputy, but I'm based in Ellis. Nepotism laws won't let me work under Dad.”

“Congratulations.”

“I start next week, so I'll be backing off your case. Dad'll be updating you from now on.”

“Good to know, but keep in touch.”

“Will do, and sorry again for calling so late, but I figured you wanted to hear what we found out about the call.”

“I did, no apology needed. Keep me posted.”

“Of course. Good night, Ms. Brown, and try not to worry. Law enforcement will find whoever the caller is. I promise.”

“Thanks. Good night.”

After the call ended, she lay there in the dark and hoped he was right.

Chapter 16

B
y Friday morning, Rocky had had it up to her eyebrows with all the visitors in town; the sooner they all disappeared, the sooner she could stop fuming. At the top of her list of the things working her last nerve were the FUFAs. After being given permission to pass out their leaflets in support of Cletus yesterday, they'd descended on the Dog like a biblical plague and proceeded to give her and the staff fits with their demands to know where her meat was processed, why there was no vegetarian menu, and why they couldn't take over some of the booths in the back to have a strategy meeting. Many of them were rude to the servers, tipped like pennies were dollars, and were constantly sending dishes back to the kitchen because “this doesn't taste right.” She wanted to smack them all—especially the ones wearing the pig masks.

And then there was the media. They were no less demanding and seemed to think nothing of filling the aisles with their equipment, tripods, and cameras, making it nearly impossible for the servers to do their jobs without tripping over something. She'd had to threaten a bunch of reporters with the police to get them to leave last night so she could close up, and when she, Mal, and Siz arrived at six in the morning, people were lined up at the door like the Dog was giving away free liquor.

The local customers weren't any happier. They had to wait an hour or more to be seated, and when they did get a chance to sit, they were finding their favorite booths occupied by strangers.

Because of the sheer volume of guests, she was doing everything from greeting to cooking to busing tables. In truth, they were the same duties she handled every day, but not at such a frenetic pace. As it stood, she and the staff had been going nonstop since all this nonsense began, and she was ready for it to stop.

When she looked outside to see how many people were still waiting to get in, the only thing that kept her from snapping was the sight of Jack, standing near the end of the line. He gave her that crooked smile he and Eli worked so well, and for some reason all the drama melted away. To reward him for being her calm in the midst of the storm, she walked over, took him by the hand, and led him toward the entrance.

“Hey!” one of the FUFAs complained. “Why's he cutting the line?”

She ignored him.

Once they were inside, she pulled him into the office. He gazed down at her with a look that was part bemusement and part she wasn't sure, but it rendered her so tongue-tied, she forgot what she was going to say. It came to her then that she was still holding his hand, so she quickly dropped it and forced herself away from his mesmerizing eyes. “Um, give Siz your order. You can eat in here so you won't be late for school.”

“Thanks, Rock.”

“You're welcome.”

She faced him, and although she'd given him his marching orders, neither of them moved. It was as if they were content to stare at each other. “Go eat, Professor.”

“Sit with me tonight at the movies.”

The softly spoken request almost knocked her over. She tried not to let it show. “We'll talk. Go.”

“Going.”

A second later he exited. Heart pounding, she headed back to the morning madness. She felt better.

As Preston and the rest of the gang biked from Ms. Marie's to school, he was feeling pretty good, too. They were done painting for the morning, and there was only a little bit left to do. By the end of the day the fence would be finished, and he and the crew could hang up their brushes and stop walking around looking like relatives of Casper the Friendly Ghost. Usually on Friday evenings, he and Amari would hang out at the movies, then head home to play video games until dawn, but being on punishment had put the stomp on that. Not only would there be no movies, video games, or sleeping in, they were going to have to get up in the morning and ride to Franklin and probably spend the entire day at the library. That meant they'd also miss the church groundbreaking; not that that sounded like a barrel of fun, but it beat being stuck in the library trying to find out why Euripides wrote a wack play about some guy in love with his mom.

In spite of the prospect of a boring weekend, he was feeling okay because of the decision he'd come to last night. He was going to ask Leah to be his girl. It was a big step for a kid like him and on the inside he was scared to death that she'd laugh or ask if he'd lost his mind, or both, but talking with the colonel after dinner had helped clear his thinking. Amari was riding beside him, but Preston hadn't shared his plan. Amari sometimes gave wise advice, but he also gave stupid advice, and if it was the latter, Preston didn't want to be thrown off course. He'd talk to his best friend after he talked to Leah and got her response.

The other students were already working when Preston and the painters made their entrance. Mr. James gave them a nod of greeting, and after they took their seats, he asked, “Does anyone know what the Eta Aquarids are?”

Leah's hand shot up.

Amari leaned over to Preston and said under his breath, “If she wasn't like a cousin, I'd really be hating on her, Brain. The girl knows everything.”

Mr. James called on her. “Leah?”

“A meteor shower.”

“Do you know when they occur?”

“First week of May?” she asked, sounding a little unsure.

“Correct. Very good,” he said. “This year, the date's May 5. The display usually peaks around four a.m. We're on break that week, so anyone who wants to join me to check it out will get extra credit for their science grade.”

The kids looked around at each other with glee. Preston couldn't remember ever getting up so early, for something like this, but he was game. He knew about meteor showers and had seen them online, but never in person.

Samantha asked, “Do we need like binoculars or telescopes?”

“No. Just your eyes. Everybody should bring blankets and wear warm clothes. Maybe something to sit on in the grass too. If it's really chilly, I'll see if Rocky can't get us some hot chocolate to drink.”

Preston liked Mr. James's topical teaching. Of course, Preston could've done without the topical term paper assignment, but in reality, he and the other painters had brought that on themselves.

Mr. James went on to talk about how many meteors they might see per hour and that the Eta Aquarid meteors originally began as dust particles from Halley's Comet. Preston looked over at Leah, and she beamed back her excitement. For two kids who loved astrophysics, this opportunity was totally awesome.

At lunch they were all still talking about it. Crystal failed to understand the giddiness. “Four in the morning? The only thing I want to see at that time is my bed. You all have fun. I'll skip the extra credit.”

Eli said, “Oh, come on, Crys. It'll be fun.”

“Nope. Not doing it.”

Preston looked over at Leah, sitting across from him, and saw her shake her head at Crystal's stance. Preston imagined himself and Leah watching shooting stars together in the middle of a field in the dark, and it gave him goose bumps. He glanced Amari's way. Amari didn't say anything, but on his face was a knowing smile, as if he knew just what Preston was thinking. Preston figured that was impossible, but with Amari anything was possible, so Preston went back to eating his lunch.

For the rest of the school day, Preston discreetly watched Leah, noting the way she pushed her glasses back up her nose with her index finger, the way she leaned over to help the dreaded Tiffany Adele with an algebra problem, and the way she smiled back at him when their eyes met. He thought she was the most perfect girl in the universe. Now he just had to figure out how, when, and where to pop the question.

The opportunity presented itself after school. He and Amari got their bikes to ride out to Ms. Marie's, but before they rode off, he said to Amari, “Go on, I'll catch up. I need to ask Leah something.”

To his relief, Amari didn't ask a thousand questions. He just rode off, but he did call back, “Good luck, Brain!”

Preston grinned and decided having a best friend was great. Leah finally came out of the building, but she was walking with her sister, which presented its own set of problems. He had to separate the two, so rather than angst over it, he called out, “Hey Leah, can I talk to you for a minute?”

To his delight, she made Tiff wait on the steps while she walked over.

“Hey, Brain. What's up?”

He took in a deep breath. “Um. I was just wondering—“

She waited, but when he didn't say anything else, she asked, “Wondering what?”

He prayed she wouldn't turn him down. “I was wondering if you—I mean, if we—” The words he wanted to use wouldn't come out, so he said in a rush, “Um, if you were going to the library in the morning?”

She studied him for a minute. “I'm not on punishment. Why would I be at the library?”

“Um. I—I forgot. Never mind.”

She stared at him oddly. “Are you okay?”

Over by the school steps, Tiff yelled, “Hurry up, Leah! I'm ready to go!”

“Will you chill out!” Leah called back.

He knew the opportunity had slipped away, and he wanted to punch himself. He felt like Charlie Brown talking to the Little Red-Haired Girl. “Look, I have to catch up with Amari. Maybe I'll see you sometime this weekend.”

The puzzled look remained on her face. “Sure. Okay.”

She hurried off to join her sister, and a miserable Preston hopped on his bike and pedaled away.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
the voice inside yelled, and he had to agree.

By the time he got home, he was feeling so blue, not even the joy of having finished up the paint job on the Jefferson fence lifted his mood. His big plan of asking Leah to be his girl had fizzled like a wet sparkler on the Fourth of July, and because he'd handled it so badly, she probably thought he was a doofus. He hung his bike up on the hooks on the wall of the garage and was about to enter the kitchen when he heard the Paynes talking. One of the things Preston had learned in foster care was the necessity of eavesdropping on adults. If they were planning to move you to another home, or intent upon some other kind of stupidity—such as leaving you home alone for three days to fend for yourself so they could fly to Cali for a wedding, like one foster mom did to him when he was eight years old—it was best to know in advance and be prepared. Eavesdropping was one of his survival skills, and Preston prided himself on being good at it. Which is why when he heard Mrs. Payne say his name, he stopped just outside the door that led into the kitchen to listen.

“I talked to the court about it today, and they said the adoption process is fairly simple,” Mrs. Payne said.

Preston's heart began pounding. Were they talking about making him official?

The colonel replied, “But are we ready, is the question.”

His joy plummeted. Mrs. Payne must've made a face in response, because the colonel said softly, “That's not what I meant. I meant are we as husband and wife ready? Is our marriage sound enough? The last thing I want is for him to be in a home where his parents are simply tolerating each other.”

“You do care about him, don't you?”

“More than I ever thought I would. Any man would be proud to call him son. He's smart, sensitive, and up-front. Calls me out occasionally, too, and I like that about him.”

“He's the child I always wished and prayed for, Barrett, and we're going to be okay.”

Preston felt tears wetting his cheeks, and he wiped them away, but soon they were flowing like the Mississippi, and next he knew he was sitting on the floor, sobbing his heart out. Finally, finally he had people who loved him, and cared about him, and wanted him to be in their lives, not just temporarily, or because the state was paying them to feed and house him. If what he'd heard was true, and he had no reason to doubt otherwise, he had a family. A real freaking family! And then he cried some more.

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, but when he looked up, the colonel was standing over him.

“Hey, what's wrong? I didn't know you were out here.”

Preston quickly tried to pull himself together, but it was too late for that. The old Preston who'd endured so much for so long was afraid to ask, but the new hopeful Preston somehow found the courage. “You and Mrs. Payne really want to adopt me?”

“You heard us, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

Barrett stuck out his hand, and Preston grasped it and let himself be helped to his feet. He dashed away the lingering water in his eyes.

“To answer your question? Yes. Very much.”

Preston hated crying, especially in front of the marines, so he tried to stop, but his eyes kept filling up.

“It's okay. I'm a little misty myself.”

And sure enough, Colonel Barrett Montgomery Payne, USM, Retired, had tears in his eyes. “Going to make it my mission to be the best dad ever.”

Mrs. Payne called from inside. “Barrett, are you in the garage?”

“Yeah, honey. Just talking to Preston.”

“Okay. Dinner's almost ready.”

Preston was glad it was just the two of them talking. He knew how emotional and sentimental Mrs. Payne could be, and were she to step out and see what was going on, she'd start to cry, and then Preston would start to cry again, and they'd all be crying until Sunday, but this had to be the most moving experience of his life.

“I suppose I should ask you if you want to be adopted?”

“I'm crying like a four-year-old here. What do you think?”

The colonel's face showed a smile.

Preston met the steady gaze of the man who wanted to be his dad. “Can I call you something besides Colonel?”

“Up to you.”

“Amari calls Trent Dad, but I want you to have your own name. How about I call you Pop, or Pops?”

It was the colonel's turn to wipe at his welling eyes. “Either one is fine. Real fine.”