Something Old, Something New (6 page)

Trent tried to engage Devon in conversation, but the boy didn't say much, so Trent didn't press.

They'd been at it for about an hour when Dr. Reg walked in. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed as he took in the old Thunderbird. “My aunt had one of these.” Only then did he see Zoey. “Wow,” he said again with a big grin. “Zoey, look at you. You look like Mechanic Barbie.”

Her face lit up like fireworks, and he laughed in reply. “Came to take you home.”

Disappointment instantly replaced her joy, so Trent said, “Zo, you can come back anytime. Okay?”

As she removed her gloves and the rest of her safety attire, her lip was on the ground.

Reggie and Trent shared a grin, and Reg said, “Trent, can I talk to you outside for a minute.”

“Sure. Hold on. Amari, would you get the Lava soap and help Zoey clean that grease off her hands and face?”

“Sure, Dad.”

When Devon began to remove his apron, Trent asked, “What are you doing?”

“I'm going with Zoey.”

“Nope. You get to hang with me and Amari until Lily comes home, remember? Take a break. I'll be right back.”

Devon pouted, but Trent ignored him and stepped outside to have the talk with Reg.

Once they were there, Reg told him about the call he'd received from Lily.

Trent was amazed. “They actually found somebody who knew Zoey and her mom? That's great news.”

“Sure is. The woman is a priest, and according to her, Zoey wasn't mute when she knew her.”

“Do you think Zoey will remember her?”

He shrugged. “We'll have to wait and see, but Bernadine, being Bernadine, has hired the priest and is going to build her a church. At least we now know that Zoey did talk once upon a time.”

Trent was very pleased with the news.

“I kind of like the idea of us getting a church and a real pastor.”

“So do I.” Trent had never been a very religious man, but he was convinced that a church would add another rock to the foundation they were trying to rebuild in Henry Adams.

Reg asked, “Think Devon's going to be upset?”

“We'll have to wait and see on that, too. Did Lily say whether they were on the way back or not?”

“No. But I can take Devon home with us now if you want.”

“That's okay. He and I need to work on being dad and son, so he's going to hang with me and Amari.”

“Good idea. I know how close he and Zo are, but they both need to widen their horizons.”

“Like this interest she seems to have in cars. Who'd've ever thought.”

“Certainly not me. Looks like we might have a car-fixing musical genius on our hands.”

“Could be, but I'm serious about her helping out here if she wants. She's been beaming the entire time. Good little worker, too.”

“You sure she won't be in the way?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. Let's see if she asks to come back. Devon's going to have a fit if she starts spending her time here.”

“He's going to be here, too. So it works out.”

Reg chuckled. “Okay.”

They went back inside, and there stood Zoey alongside Amari, both with their heads under the raised hood of the Thunderbird. She was standing on her toes to give herself the height she needed to see.

Amari was saying. “Now this is the carburetor. That's the fuel pump. That's the battery.”

Devon was seated on the leather couch, shooting daggers their way. He looked so mad, Trent had to swallow a laugh.

Reg walked over to where the two kids were, and said gently, “Hey, Zo. Time to head home.”

She looked so disappointed, and signed,
Can I come back tomorrow?

Her dad nodded. “Sure can.”

She turned to Trent and signed,
Thank you, Mr. Trent.

Trent knew the basics, so he signed back,
You're welcome.

She waggled a good-bye to Devon, but he turned away. Zoey looked so crushed, Trent wanted to smack the little deacon upside the head. Instead he said, “Devon, I'm going to assume you didn't see Zoey sign good-bye, so here's your second chance.”

The serious set of Trent's face apparently got Devon's attention because he turned to his supposed BFF and grumbled, “Bye.”

Trent thought that was a pretty pitiful second try, but he let it go, for now.

Reg and Zoey departed, and before Trent could say a word to Devon about his behavior, Amari walked over to Devon and asked testily, “What's up with you dissing your girl that way? You know you hurt her feelings, right?”

Devon squirmed on the couch.

“That was wrong, Devon. She's your sister and your best friend. Do it again, and I'm telling Tamar.”

Devon's eyes widened.

Trent's did, too.

Amari wasn't done. “You're about to be a July pretty soon, so start acting like it. You might be Mr. President with Ms. Lily, but here, you're just a kid with a clip-on tie who doesn't know a tire iron from a screwdriver.”

That said, he looked to his dad. “Is it okay if I go over to the Dog and hang out with the OG until you get there?”

Trent was so stunned, he stammered, “Uh, sure. I'll text you when Devon and I are on the way.”

“He eating with us, too?”

Trent nodded.

Amari said with feeling, “Bye, Devon.”

Devon mumbled, “Bye, Amari.”

And Amari left.

In the silence that followed, Devon, looking absolutely miserable, again raised his eyes to Trent. “I'm sorry.”

“I appreciate that, son, but Zoey's the one you need to apologize to.”

Devon dropped his gaze again.

Trent went over and sat down beside him. After a few moments of thinking about what he wanted to say, he began, “Devon, you've been dealing with a lot since your grandma died. You've come to a new place, you have new family and friends, and you're trying to find your way. I know that Zoey has been a big part of your life here, but you can't get mad at her for wanting to do stuff that you don't.”

“I don't like working on cars.”

“That's fine, but Zoey does.”

“We're supposed to be friends.”

“And what, friends only do what you want them to do?”

He didn't respond.

“You've spent the past two years being the best friend to Zoey anybody could be. You and Amari and Preston were there for her that day she got scared by Cletus at Ms. Marie's party. You've talked for her, you've helped her with her music, and you've been a great brother, but the two of you are growing up, and as you do, your interests will change. Just because you two share a love for music and church doesn't mean she can't like working on cars.”

“Girls aren't supposed to work on cars.”

“Better not let Ms. Rocky hear you say that. This used to be her garage.”

His eyes went wide.

“Yep. Girls can do anything you can do, except maybe write their names in the snow.”

He stared.

Trent shook his head. “Never mind. Have Amari explain that to you.”

He folded his arms. “Amari is the devil.”

“And who were you when you turned your back on Zoey a minute ago?”

Devon went still.

“Don't judge, lest you be judged,” Trent cautioned.

“You know the Bible?”

“A bit, but knowing the Bible means nothing if you don't practice what it teaches.”

Devon appeared to think that over and finally responded, “I like wearing my clip-on ties.”

Trent didn't call him on changing the subject. “Amari and I can teach you how to tie a real tie.”

“But I don't want to tie a real tie.”

Trent's eyes were lit with amusement. “All I keep hearing from you is what you don't want to do. Is there anything in this world you do want to do?”

“Yes. Get a preaching license so I can be the Henry Adams preacher and marry you and Ms. Lily.”

Trent threw up his hands. He was done. “Let's get cleaned up so we can go meet Amari at the Dog.”

As Devon left to wash his hands, Trent shook his head in wonder. At one time, he'd thought raising Amari would be life's biggest challenge, but he had a feeling that the little deacon with the clip-on tie was going to give him a run for his money, too.

Chapter 5

G
riffin July guided his big Harley up the quiet tree-lined street. All the houses looked like mini mansions, and the people walking their dogs and watering their pristine lawns paused to watch him ride by as if knowing he had no business there. He supposed that a half Black, half Lakota biker wearing worn leathers and a blue bandanna won off a Seminole cousin during a poker game last year didn't fit the mold of their wealthy neighbors, but in truth, he was on business—family business.

The house he was in search of turned out to be farther up the street and on the left. He swung the bike into the driveway, cut the engine, and pocketed the key as he got off. There was no guarantee the lady of the house would remember him, but he was betting she would, even though they hadn't seen each other in over a decade.

The doorbell was answered by an older Black woman whose brown dress and white apron made him assume she was hired help. Her startled reaction upon finding him on the porch led him to believe the household didn't get many visitors like him, but Griffin was a July and therefore polite. “Good evening, I'm here to see Mrs. Carlyle.”

“Your name?”

“Griffin July.”

“Wait here, please.”

She disappeared, and Griffin spent a few minutes checking out the expensive surroundings and wondering how a woman he'd known as a stripper named Melody Lane wound up playing lady of the manor in a wealthy suburban enclave like this one. Her brother Jimmy said she'd married a congressman; that too was surprising.

The maid returned. “I'm sorry, but Mrs. Carlyle says she doesn't know anyone by that name.”

“Give her this. I'm sure it'll jog her memory.” Reaching behind his head, he unhooked the brown leather chain with its distinctive red and black beads. It had been given to him by his grandfather when he'd completed his Spirit Quest. Griffin had been wearing it around his neck since he was twelve. During the two weeks he and Melody were together, it was the only thing he'd worn. The skeptical-looking maid took the chain and disappeared again.

When she returned, Melody was at her side. The look in her brown eyes could have frozen water. “What do you want?”

“An answer to a question. Can I come in?”

“No. Ask it and leave.”

Brushing his eyes across the maid's face, he cautioned, “You might want to do this privately.”

“Helen's been with me for years. I've nothing to hide.”

Griffin nodded and studied her silently for a moment. She was older, of course, but the wild pole dancer she'd once been lay totally concealed beneath the polished veneer of her high-end makeup and clothes. “Did we make a child? Specifically, a son?”

The question rocked her, but she pulled herself together. “Who told you?”

“That isn't important.”

“I will not be blackmailed.”

“Not here for that, just an answer.” In reality, she'd given it, but he had another question. “Why didn't you let me know?”

“So you could do what, come back and marry me? After you rode off on that bike of yours, I knew I'd never see you again, and that didn't change when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So you gave him up?”

“Of course. You expected an abortion?”

“No, but I would have wanted to know about the child. Babies are precious in my family.”

She rolled her eyes. “How'd you find me?”

“Your brother, Jimmy.”

“Cellmates?” she asked disdainfully.

“No. Went to visit him a few weeks ago, though. He said to tell you he'd be out in six months.”

“Like I care. Why are you so interested in this baby all of a sudden?”

“Because I believe I know where he is.”

Her eyes widened. “Don't you dare tell him where I am! I want no contact, not even a phone call, you hear me? Now get off my property!”

She turned to Helen. “Give him his necklace. If he's still on the porch in thirty seconds, call the police.”

The terse Griffin took the chain, remounted the Harley, and roared out of Melody's life for the last time.

A
fter grabbing dinner at the Dog, Trent drove the boys home. There were at present five homes in their small subdivision, but with the wealth of open prairie land surrounding it, many more could be added. The resurrection of Henry Adams was the talk of the county. The new infrastructure, cutting-edge technology, and souped-up new school had begun drawing tourists, something unheard of before Bernadine and her checkbook came calling. Trent's hometown was becoming a destination instead of a place to drive past on the way to or from the airport. He'd even gotten a few inquiries as to the costs of new housing lots from people wanting to move in, but all the land not owned by the residents was owned by Bernadine, and he didn't see her throwing open the gates to any and all comers anytime soon, if ever.

Trent and Amari lived between the Paynes and the Garlands. Lily and Devon lived directly across the street next door to Bernadine and her daughter, Crystal. Crystal and Eli were sitting on Bernadine's porch with a drawing pad each, and Trent gave them a wave. They waved in return, and he followed the boys up the steps to his front door.

Devon looked across the street at his house and asked plaintively, “When is Ms. Lily coming home?”

“Good question.” Trent knew from his talk with Reg Garland that she was okay, but not hearing from her had him wanting to whine like Devon. Then his phone went off. The number on the caller ID made him smile. “Speak of the devil. This is her now.”

When he glanced back up, the boys were still standing in front of him as if waiting to watch and hear what he and Lily had to say. “Go on inside. I'll be there in a minute.”

They left.

“Hey, babe. How are you?”

Lily responded excitedly, “Did Reggie tell you about Reverend Grant?”

“Sure did. Bernadine's optimism paid off.”

“Big-time.”

“Does the reverend think she can help Zoey?”

“She doesn't know, but she's as concerned about our little diva as we are.”

“Are you in the air on the way home?”

“No. We're still in Miami, helping the reverend get her move under way. The sooner she can tie up things here, the sooner she can get to Kansas, so Bernadine has her credit card out and is making things move at the speed of light. We'll fly back in the morning.”

Trent put away his disappointment as she continued, “The reverend wants to have a last supper with her congregation on Sunday, and then she has to meet with her bishop to have an exit interview. She'll fly out midweek. How's my baby boy?”

Trent smiled. “Me? I'm fine.”

She laughed. “Not you, crazy man. Devon.”

The man inside Trent who loved her wanted to pout upon hearing her ask after Devon first, but the parent in him understood. “He's surviving.”

“What's that mean?”

He told her about the car fixing and Devon's lack of enthusiasm.

Her laugh tinkled in his ear. “He definitely doesn't like getting dirty. Cleanest little boy I know. Probably from being raised by his grandmother. You and Amari weren't too hard on him, were you?”

“Of course not. I'll fill you in when I see you.” Trent was done talking about Devon for now. “Missing you, Lily Flower.”

“Missing you, too. See you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Be safe.”

“Love you, Trenton.”

“Love you more. Going to give the phone to Devon now. Hang on.”

Trent took the phone inside. When he handed it over, the smile he received in response let him know just how much Devon loved her. Whatever the future held, that love would get them through.

After the call, because Devon would be spending the night, Trent accompanied him across the street so he could grab his PJs and whatever else he might need.

“But why can't I sleep at Zoey's like I always do?” Devon protested with a pout while Trent stuck Lily's spare key into the lock and opened the door.

“Because you're trying new things. And don't say you don't like new things,” Trent cautioned as Devon was opening his mouth to do just that.

He closed it firmly and glanced up solemnly. “I'll go get my things.”

“I'll wait.” As he trudged away Trent wondered if that woe-is-me face ever worked on Lily. Not that it mattered. Being dad to Amari had given Trent all the patience he'd ever need. Devon the sad-faced boy was no match for Amari I-steal-cars Steele, so Trent wasn't the least bit moved to let Devon have his way.

Devon returned carrying a backpack and his Bible. Trent relocked the door and led him back across the street. Amari was coming out of the house. “Homework's done. Okay if I go hang with Preston?”

“Be home by eight.”

“Okay.” He gave Devon a nod, jumped off the porch, and ran next door.

Upstairs, Trent showed Devon into the guest room where he'd be sleeping and watched the boy slowly glance around at the furnishings, the curtains, and peer in through the door that led to the adjoining bathroom.

“This okay?” Trent asked.

“That's a big bed.”

“Yep. It's a king. Sleeps good, though.”

Devon walked over to it to take a closer look. He ran his hand over the soft blue chenille bedspread.

“Okay?” Trent asked quietly.

Devon nodded.

Trent supposed the idea of spending the night in a strange room would be challenging to a kid who'd never slept anyplace other than home or at Zoey's. “Being in a new room can spook you sometimes. Think you'd like to have a nightlight handy, just in case?”

Devon nodded and then said genuinely, “Thank you for not making fun of me, Mr. Trent.”

The sincerity made tears sting Trent's eyes. “No problem, man.”

Devon then said, “I never had a dad.”

“So what do you think so far?”

He shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“Why won't anybody let me be a preacher?”

Trent wondered if Lily had ever seen the seriousness below the boy's surface. He was what Tamar called an old soul. “Number one, you're only nine. And two, you don't know enough about life to do all the stuff preachers have to do.”

“Like what?”

Trent thought it over for a moment. “Take marriage counseling. What would you tell a married couple considering divorce?”

“I'd tell them to read their Bible. If they just trust—”

Trent held up a hand. “They tried that. Not working for them. What about a marriage counselor? Do you know how to put them in touch with someone like that?” He added gently, “Do you even know what a marriage counselor does?”

“No, but the Bible instructs a woman to follow the advice and desires of her husband.”

“What do you think Ms. Lily would do if you told her something like that?”

He shrugged. “I don't know.”

“I do. We'd probably find you up on Jupiter somewhere.”

He looked away.

“Devon, the Bible gives you wonderful rules to live by, but you have to have some life experience in order to truly understand and apply them, or to show someone else the way.”

“My grandma said I was anointed.”

“I know better than to argue with grandmas.”

Devon tossed back, “And Jesus said, ‘If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a large millstone were fastened around your neck and you were drowned in the depth of the sea.' Matthew, chapter eighteen, verse six.”

The smug face made Trent again want to smack him upside his head, but instead, he replied coolly, “ ‘Honor they father and thy mother, so that your days may be long.' Exodus, chapter twenty.”

Devon stiffened.

Trent gave him an understanding pat on the shoulder. “Bed at eight.”

T
rent didn't allow himself to smile until after he sat down on the couch. Once upon a time, Amari had thought himself smarter than the average bear, too, but just like Devon, Trent had set him straight. He hoped the checkmate in this mini challenge would make the little deacon think twice before trying to chastise somebody, especially an adult, with self-serving biblical quotes, but then again, who knew. Trent sensed a lot of simmering going on beneath Devon's calm exterior and wondered how long it would be before it bubbled to the surface. From the classes and information Bernadine had provided the foster parents that first summer, he'd learned that it sometimes took years for children to reveal their true personalities. Many were carrying so much pain inside that they were afraid to open themselves for fear of more. Devon had only been in the system for a few months before being found by Bernadine, and from all indications he'd been well loved by his late grandmother, thus escaping the traumas borne by Henry Adams's other children. However, being torn from the bosom of family and set down in a town filled with strangers had to have been traumatic, no matter how you cut it, especially for a boy his age.

As Trent picked up the remote to turn on the Thursday-night football game, he vowed to be patient, but couldn't help wonder who the real Devon Watkins might turn out to be.

The teams were just kicking off when Amari walked in. The dejected look on his face made Trent mute the sound. “What's up, big guy?”

Amari sat down in the leather chair across from Trent. “Preston has started looking for his birth parents.”

Trent studied his son's face. “Really?”

“Yeah. He's got Leah helping him.”

“Is that why you look so down, because he asked Leah and not you?”

“No. I don't mind that so much, but he said he didn't have time to help me find mine, too.”

Trent now understood. During the preparation for last summer's August First parade, Amari had let Preston do all the heavy lifting while he'd basked in the glory until the adults put a stop to the imbalance. Trent didn't like seeing Amari so glum, but he was pleased that Preston was learning to tell Amari no. “That's really something you should do on your own, son.”