Black Beans & Vice (4 page)

He walked to the edge, leaned on the iron rail, and inhaled the
scents of spring. The trees were covered with plump buds or newly
unfurled leaves, highlighted by dappled sunlight. Everywhere he
looked there was a glow of verdant green that only existed at the
end of April.

A red-tailed hawk circled overhead and as James watched the
raptor adjust its wings to a draft of wind, the bird cried out with a
hunter's primeval call.

"This is God's Country," the mother from the minivan spoke
to her children breathlessly. James couldn't agree more. He got
back in the Bronco and spent the rest of the trip fantasizing about
the trips he would take with his son. Like the family at the overlook, he wanted Eliot to see the wonders of his own region. Sure,
there'd be a visit to Disneyland too, but it was important to James
to foster a sense of state pride in his child and he couldn't imagine
a better way to do that than to embark on a series of road trips.

On the other hand, the idea of pitching tents and spending the
night in a bug-infested woods didn't appeal to James. Though he
hated to admit it, he'd grown rather soft now that he'd entered
his middle years and wondered how he could create the intimacy
of the camping environment without actually having to resort to
sleeping bags, canned food, and the absence of a morning shower.

"Jane will come up with a plan," he said with confidence and
then realized that he had included her in his vacation fantasies.
Over the past few months, he'd spent every weekend and several
weeknights with his ex-wife, but they'd never been alone. Eliot
was always present and often, Jackson and Milla were too. James'
normally irascible father melted like a pat of butter in the frying
pan anytime he was with his grandson and Milla was in danger
of spoiling the child completely. She never stopped by the house
empty-handed and should Eliot visit her store, Quincy's Whimsies, he was allowed to pick out any candy he wanted from the
bulk bins. Eliot knew, for the price of a kiss and a hug, he could procure more sugar than his mother would allow over the course
of a week.

At first, Jane smiled indulgently. She had longed for a loving
reception from James' family when it came to her only child, but
she didn't want Eliot's new grandparents to become overindulgent. After holding her tongue for a month, Jane convinced Milla
to settle for giving Eliot two pieces of candy instead of twenty and
begged the older woman to ease off on the gift giving unless it was
a special occasion. Milla had respectfully promised to obey Eliot's
mother, but James knew full well that she slipped Eliot little treats
on the sly. Fortunately, Eliot seemed more interested in spending
time with his grandparents than in garnering material goods, and
since he was a very well-mannered little boy, James decided not to
tell Jane about Milla's infractions.

All in all, James and Jane were united when it came to the
manner in which they would raise their son. Intent on molding
a person of strong character, they had spent several long evenings
agreeing on a set of rules for Eliot to obey in both of their homes.
The discussions had gone smoothly and James had told his ex
more than once that he was extremely impressed by her mothering skills. Jane had blushed at the praise, her pretty face-now
fuller and rounder than it had been when they were marriedtinged pink with pleasure.

Thinking of her now, James experienced a powerful and unexpected wave of lust. As their friendship had been renewed, reminding James of the year they'd dated before becoming engaged,
he recalled all the reasons he'd proposed in the first place. He
loved her sense of humor and quick wit, and he enjoyed being able
to discuss books with her. Now, however, he felt the desire to touch her as well. Every time he saw Jane he wanted to kiss her. On the
lips, the neck, the soft skin on her shoulder.

James knew such feelings would complicate their lives but
he couldn't help himself. Jane was no longer the skinny, angular
woman he'd wed, but a curvy, soft, and enticing woman of forty.
She was growing out her layered bob and now it hung in thick
waves of lustrous walnut-brown to her shoulders. How James
longed to stroke that hair, to touch the silky locks and then slide
his hand down the nape of her lovely neck. Her body, once familiar to him, was now intriguing new territory. One that he was hungry to explore.

"Stop it!" he chided his stimulated libido. "I'm supposed to be
focusing on plants!"

But even as he wandered through the rows and rows of vibrant
blooms at Lowe's, he tried to recall which flowers Jane preferred.
Eliot loved the color yellow, so James selected a flat of daffodils
to plant alongside the front walkway. He noticed that Jane often
wore a lavender sweater set. In hopes of pleasing her, he picked
out a flat of light purple phlox. He skipped the tulips, knowing
the deer that routinely meandered through his property would
make a quick meal of the bright red and orange flowers. In fact,
the Master Gardener on last night's television program had also
listed skunks, squirrels, mice, rats, and voles as tulip destroyers
and James assumed that his spacious lot harbored these creatures
in droves. Instead, he selected a few bleeding hearts for the corner
of the porch bed that remained in partial shade, and pushed his
loaded cart to the checkout counter.

When the sales associate rang up his purchase and the total
flashed upon the register screen, James nearly passed out.

"That's with the coupons?" he asked shrilly.

The young woman didn't bother to look up from the register.
"Yep. If you're using a credit card, you can slide it now, sir."

Outside, he carefully examined his receipt and saw that the sale
had been tendered correctly.

"I wanted my own house," James muttered as he transferred his
purchases into the Bronco. "I wanted independence and privacy
and to own something other than a bunch of dog-eared paperbacks and comic books. I agreed to humbly accept all the gripes
and grievances that go with home ownership. Well, here's a big, fat
gripe. Plants cost way too much money."

His bright mood a bit dampened by the morning's expenditure, James decided to return home for lunch instead of treating
himself to a burger and fries.

I'll have to save for years to afford a vacation for three to Disneyland, James thought sourly. It wasn't as though his bank account
grew larger with each paycheck. After all, librarians weren't exactly
in the upper echelons of the salary scale and there were always so
many bills to pay.

Driving home, James reflected that he had earned a great deal
more money as an English professor. He could always return to
that field, but such a change could mean moving farther away
from Eliot and Jane, his friends and family, and his beloved library.

"No. Quincy's Gap is my home. I'll just have to find ways to
trim costs wherever I can," he declared.

James' spirits were eventually restored by a lunch of salami and
cheese on sourdough, Granny Smith apple slices, and a generous
handful of cheese doodles. Following this feast of comfort foods,
he spent the afternoon cleaning leaves and dried stalks from the garden beds, planting his new flowers, and spreading hardwood
mulch. Singing along to the local country music station, James delighted in his outdoor work. He didn't mind that his job at the
library kept him inside five days a week, but during his time off, he
liked nothing better than to walk around his property and make a
list of chores that needed to be done over the weekend, eyeing his
little yellow house with pride.

"I practically had to chase after you with the danged chain saw to
get you to mow the lawn when you were a boy," Jackson had crossly
remarked one evening as James described how much he enjoyed
yard work. "And now look at you! Mr. John Deere himself."

"Don't badger him, dear," Milla had chided. "He still drives to
our place to cut the lawn twice a month. You should count your
blessings that you have such a fine son."

Jackson had made a noise somewhere between a snort and a
huff and had quickly returned his focus to the pot roast James had
made.

This evening, James didn't have to concern himself with cooking, as it was the Henry Family Pizza Night. He was relieved too,
because he was feeling the results of an afternoon of physical labor
in his lower back and in his hamstrings as well. He also imagined
that Jane would be worn out from the drive back from Nashville.
The idea of sitting down to a casual supper was sure to appeal to
her and James went to extra lengths to tidy up the house before
her arrival.

For months, the only pizza place that would deliver to Quincy's Gap was Papa John's. James liked their pizza just fine, but ever
since Luigi's Pizzeria had opened two doors down from Quincy's
Whimsies, James had felt obliged to patronize Milla's new business neighbor. Besides, Luigi had six children to feed, a fact which he
repeated to his customers at every opportunity. Just thinking of
the photo of the half-dozen, dark-eyed and adorable kids tacked
behind Luigi's cash register made James feel doubly compelled to
order any Italian food exclusively from the eatery.

"AH HA!" Luigi shouted when James phoned to place his order.
"THE PROFESSOR IS CALLING FOR TWO PEPPERONI AND
SAUSAGE PIES AND A CAESAR SALAD, NO?"

James smiled. Luigi didn't seem capable of calm speech. Everything he said came out as an exuberant yell. One day, he'd reprimanded James for being too soft-spoken on the phone. "I CANNOT HEAR YOUR MUMBLES, MR. LIBRARIAN!" Luigi had
hollered.

"I'm calling from the library," James had answered in defense.
"I'm accustomed to talking quietly."

"I'VE GOT SIX KIDS, PROFESSOR! THERE IS NO QUIET
IN MY LIFE, CAPICHE?"

"Yes, Luigi," James now informed the boisterous proprietor using a raised voice. "Can you have the order delivered to my house
around six o'clock?"

"CERTAINLY!" Luigi screamed and hung up.

James had just showered and put on a pair of loose-fitting chinos and a long-sleeved collared polo shirt when he heard Eliot's
impatient footsteps on the front porch.

"Daddy!" he cried, his freckled nose wrinkling in delight.

James knelt down and opened his arms wide. Eliot flew against
his father's chest, permitting a longer embrace than usual. James
smelled the aromas of childhood on the boy: fresh grass, Ivory soap, Johnson's Baby Shampoo, and the promise of things to
come.

"Did you have a nice time in Nashville?" James asked, reluctantly releasing the squirming child.

Once freed, Eliot stepped aside and commanded, "Say hi to
Mommy first."

Smiling, James reached out to Jane and she hugged him and
gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We missed you," she said warmly,
her eyes echoing the sincerity of the statement. She was wearing
her lavender sweater set.

"Five days never seemed so long," James answered and was unable to say more as Eliot demanded his full attention from then
on. The four-year-old prattled on and on about his grandparent's
house, the day spent at the zoo, the tour of the Grand Ole Opry
(which he referred to as the place where the cowboys sang), getting to meet Fay Sunray (whoever she was), and the set of wings he
was given by the pilot of their "ginormously huge airplane."

"And Granny and Grandpa Steward have a pool! It was warm
too, like a bathtub. And I have my own room in their house with
tons and tons of toys!"

Jane must have noticed the fleeting expression of envy that
crossed James' face. She knew he could never provide Eliot with
an equitable amount of material goods or entertainment, but to
her, that didn't matter. He had quickly proved to be a loving and
devoted father and no amount of money would increase his desire
to do right by his son.

"And how many times a day did you say, `I wish Daddy was
here'?" Jane prodded Eliot in the side.

He giggled. "A million!"

James shot Jane a grateful look, knowing full well she'd asked
their son that question to dispel James' insecurities.

"And I can't believe how gorgeous the flower beds are!" She
touched her sweater. "Those purple phlox are my favorite spring
flowers. Won't it be nice to sit out on the front porch with a glass
of sweet tea come summertime?"

The doorbell rang and Eliot bolted off to see who was waiting
on the welcome mat. Jackson and Milla greeted their grandchild
as though he'd been away for months. Milla scooped him into her
arms and covered the little boy with kisses until Jackson finally intervened.

"Ease up there, Milla! The boy can't even breathe!" he grumbled with false sternness. His eyes were twinkling at the sight of his
grandson.

Jane also received a warm hello from Milla, while Jackson remained polite but aloof. James knew that his father wasn't quite
ready to accept Jane back without punishing her a little bit for
breaking James' heart years ago. Soon after Jane resurfaced in his
son's life, Jackson had solemnly counseled James not to trust her
and to immediately seek legal advice regarding Eliot's custody.

James had ignored his father's suggestion, however, as Jane had
never once denied James the opportunity to spend time with his
son. In fact, she was the one who routinely made the drive down
from Harrisonburg, where she was a professor at James Madison
University, in order for the three of them to be together.

Often, while James and Eliot built Lego towers or Lincoln
Log fortresses, she busied herself grading papers, enabling father
and son to make the most of their time together. She and James
took turns cooking, wanting to gather around the dinner table as a family whenever possible. The result of this schedule was that
on weeknights, Jane had to drive home in the dark with Eliot falling asleep to the sound of a children's lullaby CD, arriving home
with little time to do anything for herself. Yet she had never complained. Unlike the Jane of old, who was habitually self-centered
and impatient, motherhood had softened her heart as much as it
had softened her body.