Something Old, Something New (13 page)

“She had just turned seven when she came to live with us.”

Bernadine shook her head sadly. “So simple, yet so complicated.”

Paula agreed. “But for me, having grown up dirt-poor in Oklahoma, totally understandable. Saying anything to the social workers, teachers, or anyone else about what was going on at home got you a serious whipping.”

Lily said, “But now you're our miracle worker.”

Paula chuckled. “Oh, lord. I just want Zoey to be okay.”

Bernadine said, “Roni and Reg are going to fly her to Manhattan in the morning and have a specialist check out her throat and vocal cords and see what kind of therapy she may have to do to get her pipes working again. I can't wait to hear what that child has to say.”

“Remember you said that,” Paula said sagely and with a smile. “The Zoey I knew could talk up a hurricane.”

“Reverend, thank you,” Bernadine said in a tone that conveyed genuine emotion. “We are so grateful. I'll build you a cathedral if you want, for all you've done.”

“No cathedrals, please, but a place to lay my head would be nice. It's been a long day.”

Lily stood. “Come on. I'll run you out to your trailer.”

Because the three emergency trailers were being used by Rocky, the Clarks, and Jack and Eli, whose new home in the subdivision was almost ready for occupation, Bernadine had Lily purchase another trailer for the reverend.

“We'll talk about building you something more permanent in the spring.”

Paula opened her mouth to explain that she didn't need anything built, but before she could find the words, Bernadine looked her in the eyes. “Just say, ‘Okay, Bernadine.' ”

In an amused tone, Paula replied, “Okay, Bernadine.”

“Good. I'll see you tomorrow.”

On the ride out to the trailer with Lily, Paula stared at the blackness of the countryside. “I haven't seen darkness this thick since leaving Oklahoma.”

“What part are you from?”

“Okfuskee County. Outside Boley.”

“Family still there?”

“Yep.”

“They're pretty proud of you, I'll bet.”

“You'd lose your money.”

Paula could feel Lily's questioning eyes, but she didn't offer anything further. There'd been enough revelations for one day.

Lily stayed at the trailer with Paula just long enough to get Paula settled in. They spent a few moments making arrangements to get her into town in the morning to meet more of the residents and back over to the Power Plant to sign some paperwork.

Finally alone, the tired Paula took a slow walk through her new home. Growing up, she'd lived in a trailer, but as she was finding with all things Bernadine, this one bore about as much resemblance to the one back home as an elephant to a Cuban cigar.

Now, as she lay in the dark in her stylishly furnished bedroom, she thought back on her day, the people she'd met so far, and Zoey. What the little one must have gone through. Under the same circumstances Paula thought she'd've stayed mute, too. That Zoey had been adopted by the Garlands was a good thing. It was her hope that all the love and understanding they'd showered on her would somehow make up for what she'd endured after Bonnie's death. A yawn seized her and reminded her how long a day it had been. She took a moment to say her prayers before turning over and slipping effortlessly into sleep.

W
hen Lily got home, she went over to Trent's to pick up Devon. She'd called earlier to let Trent know how the meet between Zoey and the reverend had turned out, and he'd been ecstatic upon hearing the results. He'd also promised to tell the boys, so as she walked home with Devon, she asked, “Did Mr. Trent give you the good news about Zoey?”

“Yes.”

“Isn't it wonderful?”

“She's just a faker,” he said belligerently.

She sighed. Considering his recent behavior, she supposed his reaction was to have been expected, but she'd been hoping for the best. His moment of bonding with Mal over baseball had given her hope, too. “She had her reasons, Devon, and she was scared.”

Devon didn't seem to care. “She ought to get a spanking for lying.”

Lily shook her head. “What happened to the kindhearted, caring Devon that used to live with me? I really miss him.”

But he didn't respond.

Chapter 12

T
he next few days were bittersweet ones for the residents of Henry Adams. The bitter parts were tied to the memory of Ms. Agnes and her passing. The sweet to the news about Zoey. Word about her spread like a late July grassfire, and Lily thought it a good thing that Zoey and the Garlands were in Manhattan, because all the interest might have been too much for the town's favorite little girl. Everywhere Lily went, she was asked to explain the story, and each time she did, the questioners would shake their heads sadly and say, “Poor baby girl.”

Everyone also wanted to meet Reverend Grant, and the task of making that a reality fell to the new VP of social affairs.

On Friday evening, when Lily and Trent, accompanied by Amari and Devon, arrived at the rec where the welcome reception was being held, they were pleased by both the size of the crowd and the tasteful but festive way the big meeting room had been decorated. The town's residents were present, of course, as were some local dignitaries from neighboring communities. Also in attendance were a few men decked out in clerical collars. None of their faces were familiar, but Lily assumed they were area pastors who'd come to check out Paula. The only people who appeared to be missing were Tamar and Marie. Neither of them had been seen since the funeral, as far as she knew. She had talked to Marie the day after the memorial about coming to dinner on Sunday, but her godmother had asked for a rain check, her way of saying she needed space. Respecting that, Lily hadn't called since.

Lily was about to suggest they get in the line with all the other people wanting to shake Paula's hand when Sheila Payne rushed up.

“Good, you're here. Trent, I need you to say a few words of welcome.”

And before they could blink, she whisked him away.

“Ms. Payne looks real happy,” Amari said.

Lily had to agree. “Yes, she does.”

“Preston says she really likes her new job.”

Lily was glad to know that. She'd yet to talk to Sheila about how the colonel felt, but decided she'd find out soon enough. Lily spotted Bernadine and received a thumbs-up, which Lily assumed meant the Boss Lady approved of the affair. Lily threw the sign back at her and grinned. Bernadine had also been skeptical about Sheila's abilities, but everything looked lovely, from the fresh flowers on the buffet table to the fancy tablecloth and gold-rimmed china.

Lily glanced down to ask Devon how he liked the affair so far and saw him shooting daggers Paula's way. She sighed sadly and looked up to find Amari watching her with concerned eyes.

He said softly, “Don't worry, Mom. It'll work out. You'll see.”

She was so moved by his caring spirit and calling her Mom, she felt the sting of tears. She wanted to give him a big fat hug and a kiss, but rather than embarrass him in front of a room filled with people, she replied simply, “Thank you, Amari. I really appreciate that.”

“You're welcome.” He shot Devon such a pointed look that Devon lowered his eyes to his shoestrings. Seemingly satisfied that he'd put his soon-to-be younger brother in his place, Amari added, “Now let's get in line so we can meet Reverend Paula. I'm ready to eat.”

A buoyant Lily let him lead the way.

Trent's speech was short, and when he was done, it was the reverend's turn.

She looked out over the assemblage and said, “I'm very honored to be in Henry Adams, and I'm looking forward to my new life here with you.”

That her remarks were short, too, seemed to endear her to the crowd, because she left the mic under thunderous applause. Once she did, the reception line Lily and the boys were standing in began to move once more.

When their turn came, Lily made the introductions. The lady priest shook Amari's hand, who promptly said, “Your red boots are off the chain.”

She laughed and looked down at her red-and-silver cowboy boots. “I think they're pretty cool, too. Thanks.”

Amari added, “And thanks for helping Zoey.”

“You're welcome, but I think it was more the Spirit. I was just the vessel.”

Amari studied her for a moment. “I had to do a Spirit Quest this summer, so I actually understand what you mean.” He looked at Lily with such an expression of astonishment, she laughed.

“You'll have to tell me about this quest,” Paula said, smiling.

“Right now?”

“No”—she laughed—“but how about in a few days?”

He nodded.

She then peered at Devon. “How are you, Devon?”

“Fine,” he tossed back curtly.

Lily held on to her temper and said evenly, “Your attitude's not real becoming, Devon.”

Paula didn't seem to be put off by his mood. “Devon, I'd like to talk to you in a few days, too, if you have the time. I want to hear all about your preaching.”

Lip poked out, arms crossed tightly over his suit, he nodded.

Lily rolled her eyes and prayed for strength. “Come on, guys. Let's move along. Thanks, Reverend Paula.”

“No problem.”

Once they were out of earshot, Amari asked Devon, “Do you know how embarrassing you are?”

Devon didn't reply.

Lily agreed with Amari but didn't add her two cents because she was too mad. She was also afraid that if she opened her mouth all hell would roll out, and only a bad parent cussed out a child, especially during a reception for the new reverend.

Across the room, Trent stood patiently listening to the low-voiced, judgmental concerns of Cecil Donovan about Paula Grant. Donovan was the new pastor of a small Black church in Franklin, and to hear him tell it, Paula and her Episcopalians were the epitome of what was wrong with religion. Not only did they accept gays and lesbians into their congregations, they allowed them into the ranks of clergy as well.

Donovan was eating from a stack of shrimp piled high on his plate. As he daintily held on to the tails before taking a bite, his manicured fingers glistened. His expensive suit could have come from Leo's closet.

“And did you know that they not only allow women in the pulpit, they just consecrated an openly gay woman as a bishop in California? If that isn't blasphemy, I don't know what is,” he added, and pointed a shrimp at Trent for emphasis.

Trent glanced around and spotted Lily and the boys in the reception line, speaking with the subject of Donovan's disdain. He'd planned on them all meeting the new reverend as a family, but before he could get with them, he'd been waylaid by Donovan.

Donovan went on speaking as if he were passing along secrets from Russia. “The Bible clearly specifies a woman's place in society. The men run things, and women serve. In the book of—”

Tired of this, Trent interrupted him. “Excuse me, Pastor Donovan. I'm not sure how long you've been in Franklin?”

“About six weeks.”

“Then you may not know that Henry Adams is owned by that lady over there.” He pointed out Bernadine. “Her name's Bernadine Brown. Any problems you have with the hiring of Reverend Grant should be taken up with her. I'm sure she'd be real interested in hearing your theories on why women shouldn't be running things.”

Donovan choked on his shrimp.

Trent gave him a few hard whacks across the back that were definitely more forceful than necessary, but he was trying to help him out in his distress.

Once the man recovered, Trent said, “You make sure you speak with Ms. Brown, okay?” Offering the pastor a terse nod of farewell, Trent went in search of his family.

Because it was Friday evening, the celebration was topped off with a showing of
Night at the Museum
for the kids, and for the adults,
The Preacher's Wife,
the Whitney and Denzel version, because of its religious overtones.

When the movies were over, Trent drove them home. Lily and the boys got out of the car, but Trent had one more thing to do. He hadn't seen Tamar since Agnes's funeral.

“Tell her I send my love,” Lily said to him.

“Will do. Be back later.”

O
nce there, he parked and headed up the walk. Tamar was seated on the porch in the dark, just as he'd expected. They both loved the night.

“What brings you out here so late?” she asked.

He sat down on the top step just like he used to when he was young. “Came to check on my favorite old lady. So how are you?”

“Grieving.”

The one word told him much. He'd been worried about her since Agnes's death, but hadn't visited because he wanted to give her her space.

Tamar said quietly, “I'm the last of my kind. The last living resident of Henry Adams who actually knew Aunt Teresa and her brothers, and I'm not sure I'm liking it.”

He turned toward her in an effort to try and make out her facial expression in the darkness. “Why?”

“Thinking about my own mortality, I guess.”

“The death of a friend will do that sometimes.”

For a while they just sat and listened to the wind in the grass and watched the moon overhead go in and out of the clouds.

Tamar finally said, “I miss Agnes. I spent so many years wanting to strangle her for one thing or another, I never thought I'd feel such loss when she was gone, but I do.”

Trent smiled softly. “She could get you going.”

“And then some. I'm going to be joining her and the rest of them eventually. You prepared for that?”

She always did ask hard questions. “No.”

“You have your family now. You'll be okay.”

“No, I won't be. Not without you.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Her words made him worry. “Have the doctors told you something Dad and I should know?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if they had?”

“No.”

He shook his head. Twenty years ago, she'd been diagnosed with stage-three ovarian cancer. They'd almost lost her. He prayed she wasn't girding herself to take up the battle again.

“And when my time comes, no heroics. Just let me slip away.”

To him she'd been mother, grandmother, and friend. Hearing this was hard, but he forced himself to respond. “Okay.”

There was another long moment of silence before she said wistfully, “You and I spent a lot of nights out here on this porch.”

“Something about the night always spoke to me. Still does.”

“Me, too. Not Mal, though. He doesn't like the darkness; too many demons in it for him.” She went quiet again for a few moments, and he wondered if she was thinking about the past or the future. “You make sure you and Amari take care of Malachi after I'm gone.”

“We will.”

“Good,” she whispered. “I've had a good long life. If the spirit took me with the morning's sunrise, I'd have no regrets. You've filled my heart, Trent. Thank you.”

Fighting to keep a tight rein on his emotions, he turned again to where she sat shrouded by the shadows. “You're welcome.”

“Amari has been a blessing, too. Never met a child so grateful for family.”

“He is special.”

“That he is. Hungry for the old stories, like you were. Comes out to see me almost every day and just sits and listens. Asks a million and a half questions, though.”

Trent smiled. Amari was a question machine. “He loves you a lot.”

“And I love him back. Convinced he's a July.”

“Be nice if we could prove it, but either way, Wednesday I want you to come with me to the courthouse so we can make his adoption official.”

“I'll be there.”

When Trent was young, the night wind moving through the grass and trees always sounded like people whispering. Tamar explained it as being the nocturnal gathering of the July ancestors talking to each other and walking the land to make sure their living descendants were well. It was an image he still clung to decades later, and in silence he could hear them now. Off in the distance an owl hooted from somewhere down near the small stream that ran behind Tamar's land. The memories of growing up here were ones he'd cherish until he joined the nightly gatherings of his clan. “You know, you're not the last link. Whether you want to acknowledge him or not, your brother Thad is still alive and living in Oklahoma.”

She snorted. “Don't remind me.”

“When are you two going to declare a truce?”

“On the day I sprout wings. That coyote stole Olivia, took her tires, and left her sitting on the side of the road twenty miles away!”

“I know, but that was years ago, Tamar, and it only took us a few hours to find her.”

“Doesn't change things.”

Trent always got the impression that the feud between them went back farther than the Olivia prank, but he'd no clue what might have started it. “I'm going to invite him and his side to the wedding.”

“No, you're not.”

“Yeah, I am. They're family. Already had Mal call Thad.”

“You're really ruining my evening.”

“Sorry.”

“They're just going to steal our cars again, you know that, right?”

“We'll see if we can't work something out with them before they arrive.”

“Good luck.”

He was certain he'd need it, but he set aside the potential antics of the Oklahoma branch of the family for now. She was his main concern.

But apparently she was done visiting for the night. “Trent, it's late. You go on home now and let this old lady continue her pity party and try not to think about her brother coming to town. I'll be back raising hell in a day or so.”

“You sure?”

“Who else is going to whip Miss Tiffany Adele into shape?”

Trent laughed. Getting to his feet, he walked over to her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Love you, Tamar,” he whispered.

“Love you more, baby boy.”

Trent got back in his truck and drove away. He knew death would take her eventually, but he wasn't ready, and doubted he'd ever be. His world had always included Tamar, and he couldn't imagine it without her.