Something Old, Something New (16 page)

Lily shook her head sadly. No one had stepped up to claim him after his grandmother's death, but how do you explain that to a child so that he'd understand and not become more heartbroken? As for his parents, there was no information in his file about them. In fact, he didn't even have a birth certificate, something no one down in Mississippi had been able to explain when she called the Human Services Agency about the missing document after Devon's initial arrival in Kansas. He looked so unhappy. She was trying to be a patient and loving parent, but he was testing her big-time. “Dinner will be later.”

Downstairs, she stood in front of the patio door and looked out at the pouring rain. Her mood matched the dank gray day.

P
aula was feeling pretty gray herself. She'd agreed to have dinner with the Donovans knowing full well the man was going to test her faith and patience, but she'd agreed to the invitation anyway. Bad move. The afternoon began in his church. He introduced her to the five-person congregation, and the service began. The Anglican/Episcopal service that Paula presided over in her home church on Sunday mornings took ninety minutes, tops, and that was with the sermon. Pastor Donovan's sermon alone was ninety minutes long, and most of it was devoted to the proper way to worship God. As he proceeded to attack her church's doctrine and denounce its spirit of openness as godless and misguided, she forced herself to remember that she was a woman of God and therefore should feel no malice. In reality, she wanted to turn over his pulpit and walk out. She'd never been so openly and blatantly insulted in her entire life.

After the service, as he drove Paula and his silent wife through the pouring rain back to their home for dinner, he asked, “How'd you like my sermon, Reverend?”

She responded from the backseat. “It was certainly filled with lots of fervor.”

“I felt moved this evening. Sometimes the Spirit takes over and speaks through me, and when it does, and you're on the wrong side of the Lord, too bad if you get your feelings hurt. The truth has to be voiced.”

Paula silently prayed for patience and tolerance, even though Donovan seemed to have neither. One of the things he'd pointed out during the sermon as a failing of her denomination was that Episcopalians didn't bring Bibles to church. “Pastor Donovan, do you know why we don't bring our Bibles to church?”

He grinned at her in the mirror. “No, but I bet you think you have a legitimate reason.”

“I'll let you decide that. Sixty percent of our liturgy every Sunday is taken from the Bible. That's more than any other Christian denomination.”

She saw his wife give him a hasty glance of surprise.

Paula continued. “We recite the Psalms, have readings from both the Old and New Testaments, and, depending upon the priest, the sermon is usually tied to the Gospel reading of the day. So when you take all of that into consideration, we don't really need to bring our Bibles, because most of our service is the Bible.”

Silence.

Paula knew that up in heaven God was shaking His head, but she saw this as a teaching moment, and she really felt the need to get this man's attention. She'd ask forgiveness when she said her prayers at bedtime. “As for your disdain for our embracing our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters . . . We practice
via media
.”

“What is that, some kind of Internet mess?” he asked impatiently.

Paula kept her voice even and kind. “No, it's Latin for ‘middle way.' We don't presume to know how God feels about certain issues, but you and I both know that the one thing Jesus stressed was love thy neighbor. Period. So that's what we practice and preach.”

“But you have Episcopal churches that don't believe gays belong in the church, either.”

“True, and as a family we're working on that. If you look at it from a historical perspective, Black people were considered unfit for the church at one time, too.”

With that, she had nothing else to say. Apparently, Pastor Donovan didn't either, because he remained silent for the rest of the ride.

Chapter 15

O
n Monday morning everyone went back to work and to school, and no one was happier than Lily. Devon had made her insane with his uncharacteristic behavior, but once she entered the Power Plant, she felt the stress lift. As she recounted the details of the volatile weekend to a concerned-looking Bernadine, though, it returned.

“You've talked to him?”

“Talked, prodded, hugged, punished. You name it, I've tried it.”

“What's Paula saying?”

“She's going to talk to him after school. I feel as if bringing her in on this means I've given up.”

“No, it just means you know that you've done all you can do. Maybe a professional like Paula will see something in Devon that we haven't and know how to fix it.”

Lily sighed. “I'm going to my office. Maybe work will help me take my mind off all this.”

Mid-morning she got a call from Marie, who asked, “Are you busy?”

Lily prayed this wasn't another crisis. “No,” she responded in a voice she hoped sounded cheerful. “What can I do for you?”

“I want you to drive me up to Hays this afternoon.”

She wanted to scream about having another chore put on her plate, but kept her voice even. “To the airport?”

“No, my son's flying in for a conference. He wants me to meet him at his hotel.”

Lily's mood brightened. “That's great news, Marie.”

“Yes, it is,” she said happily. “After last week I could use some good news.”

“Amen. What time does he get in?”

“Around two. He wants me to meet him around three.”

“I'll pick you up at one. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Is Leo going with us?”

“No. He's at a meeting in Franklin, and even if he wasn't, I'd rather you go with me.”

That warmed Lily's heart. “Okay. I'll see you later.”

Turning back to her computer screen, she said, “Finally, some good news.”

Lily let Bernadine know she was leaving for the afternoon, and when she got in her car, she checked her wallet to make sure she had some money just in case she needed cash during the day. Her wallet was empty. She thought that over for a moment and swore she'd had forty bucks and tried to remember where she'd put it. She glanced at her watch. There was no time to run to the bank in Franklin, but she did have time to swing by the ATM inside the Dog.

The place was filled with the late lunch crowd, and ironically, the O'Jays were wailing “For the Love of Money” via the speakers when she ran in. Smiling, she stuck her card in the machine's slot just as Mal walked to the cash register.

She told him, “This machine is a godsend. I misplaced some money, and this beats driving over to Franklin.”

“Must be contagious. Misplaced ten dollars myself sometime this weekend.”

“We must be getting old.”

“Speak for yourself,” he countered with a grin.

The ATM burped out two twenties. Lily stuck them in her wallet and waved good-bye to Mal.

O
n the drive to Hays, Marie had on her poker face as she rode shotgun, but Lily sensed the nervousness beneath the calm exterior. Conversation had been sparse. Lily didn't want to talk about Devon or Davis not coming to the wedding and add her own personal drama to whatever Marie was feeling inside. “So how did your son sound when you talked to him?”

“A little guarded, but that's probably to be expected.”

“He'll be here just overnight?”

“Yes.”

“Did he say where home was?”

“Memphis.”

“Wow.”

“Not sure how he ended up down there, but that might be something we can talk about.”

“Are you nervous?”

Marie grinned. “I can barely sit still.”

Lily totally understood. “We're almost there.”

When they arrived at the hotel, Lily drove to the door with the intention of letting Marie go in alone. “I brought some work,” she explained. “I'll sit in the coffee shop or somewhere until you're ready to head back. Just hit me up on my phone.”

“Oh, no. You're coming with me. I'm not meeting him alone.”

“Marie?”

“Park, missy, and let's go in. I don't want to be late.”

So Lily parked, and they both went inside.

He was waiting in the lobby. He was tall, brown-skinned, and a bit out of shape. He wore his age well, though. “Ms. Jefferson?”

“Yes, I'm Marie.”

He seemed to be as nervous as she was. “I'm Brian French.”

Marie opened her arms for a hug, but he cleared his throat as if embarrassed and offered her his hand to shake instead.

Lily saw Marie's embarrassment as she shook his hand. “This is my goddaughter, Lily. She drove me down.”

He nodded her way. “Pleased to meet you.”

“As am I,” Lily replied and shook his extended hand, too.

He glanced around the lobby, and after spotting a quiet corner, gestured them toward the burgundy chairs positioned there. “How about we have a seat?”

They sat, and an awkward silence followed.

Marie took the plunge and said, “So you live in Memphis?”

“I do.”

“Married? Children?”

“Married, yes. My wife and I have two girls, thirteen and fourteen.”

“Do you have pictures?” she asked eagerly.

The way he paused and then glanced away gave Lily a bad feeling.

“Um, look,” he said to Marie. “Honestly, I don't want to have a relationship with you. I was adopted by a great couple, and my life's been good.”

Marie drew back as if she'd been slapped. “Then why am I here?”

“Curious about who you were, I guess. Most adopted kids are. I also wanted to know if there are any health issues in your family that may impact me or the girls in the future.”

Marie looked so stiff and brittle, Lily was afraid she'd crack into a thousand pieces.

“No,” she whispered. “We usually live a long time.”

He searched her face and seemed to see how his statement had impacted her. “My apologies if I've hurt you.”

Marie shrugged. “No problem. I appreciate the honesty. Is there anything else?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Then you have a wonderful rest of your life.” She stood up. “Nice meeting you. Let's go, Lily.”

Lily could see that he felt terrible about how this had turned out, but she wasn't concerned about him. “Nice meeting you,” she said.

“Same here.”

Lily and Marie left without another word.

In the car, Marie stared out the window.

Lily said, “Marie?”

“Just get us home, honey.”

So she did, while tears streamed silently down their cheeks.

When they finally reached Henry Adams, Lily stopped the car in front of Marie's house. “Do you want me to come in with you and sit awhile?”

“No. I've wasted enough of your time today.”

“You didn't waste my day.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You shouldn't.”

“I thought he wanted me in his life.”

“That's a perfectly normal response, but he should have told you what he wanted on the phone.”

Marie didn't respond.

“You sure you don't want company?”

“Positive.”

Tight-lipped, Lily nodded.

Marie leaned over and gave her a hug that was so filled with emotion, Lily began to cry again.

“I'll see you later,” Marie promised and got out of the car.

Lily watched her slowly climb the steps to the porch. Genevieve, sporting the cast on her hand, met her at the door and opened it. They spoke for a few seconds. Lily saw Genevieve gather Marie into her arms and hold her tight as the door closed them in.

Driving back to town, Lily thought back on the disastrous meeting. The parts of her that loved Marie thought French had been selfish to reach out just for curiosity's sake and not consider she might be expecting more than a handshake. Marie hadn't given him up by choice, nor even been allowed to hold him after his birth. As a mother herself, Lily couldn't imagine having been forced to give away her son without so much as a kiss good-bye. She sighed sadly. How much more heartache could one woman bear?

She called Trent to tell him about the rotten day. He was sympathetic and heard her out, but then rocked her with the news that Devon had been caught stealing at school. “What?” she yelled. Fighting to stay calm, she listened for a few more seconds, then said, “Okay. I'm on my way.” She slammed her fist against the steering wheel and drove to the school.

In hindsight, Devon realized he should never have gone anywhere near Crystal's tote bag, but Mr. James sent him to the art room to get some markers, and the bag had been lying there. Devon knew that Crystal had a job as a waitress at the Dog, and he'd been so greedily focused on how much money might be inside, he'd had no idea that she was in the adjoining storeroom, taking inventory. He'd grinned upon finding two five-dollar bills in her wallet and had just slipped them both into his pants pocket when he heard her yell from behind him, “What the hell are you doing in my bag! I know you're not stealing from me, Devon Watkins.”

He'd jumped in panic and spun around, and there she was, bearing down on him with murder in her eyes. Shaking, he somehow managed to say, “But Amari made me do it.”

She smacked him across the top of his head. “Give me my money, little boy, before I beat you to death!”

She smacked him again, hard. “And that's for lying on Amari. He didn't send you in here, and you know it. Have you lost your damned mind!” She stuck out her hand, palm up, and glared.

Devon's shakes increased tenfold, so he had difficulty getting his hand into his pocket to retrieve the bills and give them back.

“Hurry up!” she demanded.

Once he placed the money in her hand, she latched on to his upper arm and propelled him forward. “Let's go!”

She marched him from the room, which is how he came to be sitting in Mr. James's office with the angry Mr. Trent and Ms. Lily standing over him at that moment.

In truth, Lily was past angry. “Stealing, Devon? How could you?”

When he didn't respond, Crystal reached out and smacked him upside his head. “Do you hear her talking to you, boy!”

“Crystal!” Lily cried.

Crys looked at her and said respectfully, “Ms. Lily, he knows you aren't going to spank him, and that's the problem. I'm not his parent. I can smack the taste out of him, so you better answer her, Devon,” she warned him, leaning down to make sure he got it.

Looking on, Trent wanted to cheer. He didn't know if that made him a bad parent, but Devon was out of control, and if it took peer pressure from the Henry Adams big sister to make him straighten up, he was all for it. Otherwise Lily was liable to strangle the boy with her bare hands.

Devon got the message. Eyes downcast, he muttered, “I'm saving money to take the bus back to Mississippi so I can live with Ms. Myrtle.”

“You dummy!” Crystal snapped. “You can't buy a ticket to Mississippi with ten dollars.”

“I can with the fifty dollars I have in my room!”

Uh-oh.

Lily cocked her head. “Where'd you get fifty dollars?”

Belatedly realizing he'd volunteered too much information, he shot Crystal a look of fury, but she simply folded her arms angrily.

“You may as well answer her, son,” Trent advised him. “You're already in this mess up to your tie.”

Devon saw that Mr. James was standing quietly with his arms folded. Devon hoped he'd rescue him, but there appeared to be no salvation there either, so he mumbled, “I got it from Mr. Mal.”

“Mal gave you fifty dollars,” Lily replied skeptically.

Devon squirmed.

Trent took out his phone. “Let me call him.”

“No!” Then he admitted quietly, “He didn't give it to me. I stole it.”

“The entire fifty?” Lily asked.

More squirming. “No. Just ten. I took the other forty out of your purse.”

Lily's eyes went so wide, Trent thought they'd explode. He shook his head and announced to Devon, “You just earned yourself a fence painting, Mr. Watkins. I'll be by to pick you up in the morning at six. Be ready.”

Lily fumed, “I thought I had misplaced that money. Mal thought he had, too. Wait until I tell him his baseball buddy is the one responsible. Come on, Devon. We're going home.”

And with that, the three-day crime spree perpetrated by the now very contrite Devon Watkins was over.

As promised, Trent picked Devon up just as the sun was rising and drove him out to the Jefferson place.

“But I'm going to get paint on my suit,” Devon protested as Trent parked.

Trent cut the engine and glanced over. “I know you didn't think wearing that would get you out of this. You took money from your family, Devon. Suit or no suit, you have to pay the piper. Now let's get out.”

Devon grudgingly complied, and the awful day began.

Even though Trent showed him how to use the brush and how to make the strokes, Devon had never painted anything in his life, and when he began working alone, it showed. He had white streaks and splotches all over him by the time the first twenty minutes ticked off the clock. At one point during his ordeal he took a misstep and wound up with his foot in the paint tray, and there he stood with paint all over his shoes, socks, and pant legs. He hated it. He could see Mr. Trent sitting on Ms. Marie's porch step, drinking coffee and watching. Devon hated him, too.

To make matters worse, when it came time for him to stop working so that he wouldn't be late for school, it took him so long to clean up the brushes and put everything back into the Jefferson barn that there wasn't time for him to go home and change clothes. He had to wear the paint-stained suit to school. The moment he entered the classroom, all the kids looked up. They knew what he'd been doing and why. No one said anything, but he caught their looks of amusement as they returned to their assignments. Pouting and angry, Devon took his seat.