How do I look?”
Bernadine surveyed the voluminous gold scarf draped around her sister’s neck; the pricey red sweater peeking from beneath the midriff-cut black leather jacket; the matching leather pants; the stiletto boots, and the gold in her ears and on her wrists. “You look fine, but this is a pretty casual affair we’re going to.”
“So I’m overdressed?”
“Just a bit.”
“Good. Then I’ll make a good impression. I don’t want your friends to think I’m poverty-struck.”
Bernadine glanced over at Crystal, seated at the kitchen table looking through a new cookbook that had come in the day’s mail. Crystal rolled her eyes and went back to viewing recipes.
In the truck on the way over, Diane had questions. “So are these women farmers’ wives?”
“No. Most are retired from one thing or another. Roni Moore lives here too, and she’ll be there.”
“Roni Moore the singer?”
“Yes. She and her husband are adoptive parents.”
“And they live here?”
“Yes.”
“I’m impressed.”
Bernadine was glad she’d found something impressive about Henry Adams—besides Mal, of course. “She and her husband are nice people.”
“I wonder if she adopted because she can’t have kids of her own?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I’ll ask her.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not? Inquiring minds want to know.”
“It’s none of your business.”
Diane didn’t seem to care for that, so Bernadine broke it down. “Suppose a stranger walked up to you and asked why Harmon filed for divorce?”
“I’d tell them the truth—that he’s having a midlife crisis and will be begging me to take him back within six months.”
Bernadine stared. “You really believe that?”
“Of course,” Diane replied, as if the question had been a stupid one. “Harmon can’t cross the street or tie his shoes without my help. He’ll come to his senses soon.”
The reply made Bernadine wonder just how deep Diane’s denial went. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not, so end of conversation.”
When they reached Tamar’s, all the cars parked out front seemed to suggest everyone had already arrived.
“Why are you meeting in this old place?” Diane asked. “Who lives here?”
“Mal’s mother, Tamar.”
She perked up. “Will he be here, too?”
“No.”
Inside, Bernadine was immediately bombarded with questions about Crystal. “I’ll get to that in a minute. Let me introduce my sister, Di, first.”
After the introductions were done, Diane said, “My real name is Diana, and I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you for being Bernie’s friends. She didn’t have many when we were growing up.”
Everyone froze.
Roni raised her wineglass in mock tribute. “Wow. We didn’t know you had such a neat sister, Bernadine.”
Apparently the sarcasm sailed right over Diane’s head, because she replied, “Thanks. I was head cheerleader back in high school and had a ton of friends. I really felt sorry for her.”
“Lots of friends and a big heart. How interesting.” Genevieve added, “You must be so proud of yourself, Diana.”
“I am.”
Bernadine removed her coat, placed it on the chair with the others, and headed straight for the wine set up on a card table on the far side of the room. She needed a drink.
“Are you married, Diana?” Sheila asked. By then Diana was standing beside Bernadine and eyeing the selection of beverages. She showed Sheila a false smile. “No. I’ve recently divorced my husband.”
Bernadine paused in midpour. She turned her sister’s way, but Diane was focused on reading the label of the wine bottle in her hand. Her face pained, she leaned over and whispered to Bernadine, “Where on earth did these country bumpkins get this no-name wine?”
Bernadine whispered back, “From my cellar. It’s a 1966 Petrus Bordeaux. Bought it at an auction for a thousand bucks.” She loved the startled expression, but by then she was too through, so she stalked off to claim one of the empty chairs.
Lily came over and stood at her side. “Opinion formed.”
Bernadine watched Tamar walk over to Diane and strike up a quiet conversation. “And your verdict?”
“Like Roni said, wow.”
“I know.” Apparently Diane wasn’t liking whatever Tamar was saying. She tried to move away, only to find herself gently taken by the arm.
Roni drifted over to where Bernadine was seated too. Apparently she, like everyone else in the room, was discreetly eying the interaction between Tamar and Diane. In a singsong voice reminiscent of the kids, she offered quietly, “Somebody’s in trouble.”
Bernadine nearly choked. “Go away before you make me spill this thousand-dollar wine.” As she’d mentioned to Lily earlier, she thought Diane might benefit from rubbing elbows with their friends. Instead, she’d set them on edge straight out of the gate. Opinion formed.
Since it was Sheila’s idea to form the ladies’ group, she opened the meeting. “My reason for wanting to found this organization is so we can get together and relax.”
“And drink Bernadine’s fabulous wine,” Marie cracked, to much laughter.
Bernadine watched her sister finally move away from Tamar and take a seat. Diane’s stormy face mirrored the way the kids sometimes looked when Tamar called them out for their behavior. On the other hand, Tamar, who’d taken a seat on the sofa, didn’t appear the least bit upset. Then again she never did.
On the heels of the laughter, Sheila said, “Tonight we need to come up with a name, elect officers if we want to go that route, and talk about what we want to achieve going forward. First, though, we need Bernadine to fill us in on Ms. Crystal.”
Bernadine relayed what she’d been told of Crystal’s doings in Dallas. When she’d finished, there was head shaking all around. The ladies had a few more questions about the stolen shoes and the role played by the police. When those were answered, she added, “Crystal asked if the couple she stayed with in Dallas could move here.”
Reverend Paula asked, “And your response?”
Bernadine shrugged. “According to her, they’re struggling big-time, but I was impressed by the common sense they seemed to have.”
“We’re all about opening our hearts here,” Lily reminded everyone.
“And it might be nice to have some babies in town,” Sheila added.
“Babies?” Genevieve gasped. “We may have babies here?”
Everyone laughed, and Lily cracked, “Better them than me, because lord knows I’m not having any, regardless of Devon’s constant nagging for a little brother.”
Roni laughed. “Aw, come on, Lily. Forty-plus isn’t too old.”
“Then go for it, Roni. Me, I’m done. Amari and Devon are more than enough for this old woman, thank you very much.”
Diane interrupted. “You mean you’re seriously considering letting these strangers live here?”
Bernadine replied, “Sure. Why not?”
“But you don’t even know them.”
Rocky quipped, “Before Ms. Money Bags over there bought the town, many of us in this room didn’t know one another either. Worked out fine.”
Mumbles of agreement and glasses raised in toast followed that.
Diane had shock on her face again. Bernadine wondered if it might stem from not having known about her poor, friendless big sister’s ownership of Henry Adams. She’d never told Diane about purchasing the town on eBay because her sister’s only interest was herself. “Let me get some more info on the couple, and then we can have a serious conversation about the pros and cons.”
That seemed to suit everyone except Diane, who looked disgusted, but no one paid her any attention. Sheila moved on to the next item on her agenda.
On the drive home, Bernadine glanced over at her silent sister and wondered what she might be thinking. “So, did you enjoy yourself?”
She shrugged. “I suppose. Didn’t like Tamar, though.”
“Why not?”
“She had the nerve to tell me I shouldn’t have said what I did about you not having any friends. And apparently Malachi told her about the prom date story, and she didn’t like that either.”
“Ah.”
“Do you really own the town?”
“I do.”
“You couldn’t come up with a better way to spend your settlement?”
“After the divorce I needed a new purpose in life, and this was it. Had no idea how things would turn out, but it’s been a blessing all the way around. That old religious saying about casting your bread on the water has really proven true. I can’t put a price on what this town and the people here have given me in return.”
Diane stared out her window at the passing darkness.
“You might want to think about finding a new purpose in your life, too,” Bernadine added.
But Diane didn’t respond.
When Roni got home, Reg was in their bedroom, packing for his trip to Seattle the next day. “How’d the meeting go?” he asked.
“We had fun. We decided to call ourselves the Henry Adams Ladies Auxiliary.”
“Sounds pretty old-fashioned.”
“That’s the point. We’re patterning ourselves after those old school groups. Zoey still up?”
“Yeah. She’s watching TV.”
She picked her words carefully. “I talked to Paula. She said she’d be willing to sit down with us to try and help us sort out whatever this is we’re going through.”
“No.”
“That was quick.”
“The only thing wrong was you being gone all the time. Now that you aren’t, we’re good.”
“That why you faked being asleep when I came home Saturday night, because we’re good?”
He stiffened.
“We’re both adults, Reggie. If you don’t want to be married anymore just say so.”
He met her eyes, then went back to his packing. “I need to get this done.”
“You do that,” she replied icily, and left the room.
On the heels of her departure, Reggie sighed and dropped his head. He didn’t want their marriage to end, but talking to a counselor, even someone he knew and admired like Paula, wasn’t something he was comfortable with. More than likely folks around town had already picked up on the fact that he and Roni were having trouble, but thankfully no one had said anything out loud. Going to see Paula would be to openly admit they were having issues, and he didn’t want to air their dirty laundry. It was his hope that now that Roni was home, the tensions between them would miraculously dissolve. Although he didn’t believe that, he clung to it anyway because he had no other solution.
In light of that, he thought his first step back to normalcy would be to patch things up with Roni before leaving for Seattle in the morning. He had been feigning sleep, and although he didn’t want to discuss the reasons behind it, he did owe her an apology. She was down the hall in Zoey’s room and they were watching Leave It to Beaver.
Zoey glanced up at his entrance. “Did you watch this when you were little, Dad?”
“I don’t believe it was still on TV when I was growing up, but I do know about the show.”
Roni’s soft smile gave him hope, and he offered her his own in reply.
“Why does Mrs. Cleaver wear high heels and dresses all the time?”
Roni chuckled. “That’s the way some women dressed back then.”
“Is she just getting home from work on every show?” The confusion on her face made them both chuckle.
Roni said, “I’m not sure whether June had a job, babe.”
“So she walked around the house all day in dresses and high heels, just because?”
Roni nodded.
“That’s dumb.”
Reggie tried to explain it better. “Zoey, back then a lot of women didn’t work. They stayed home and took care of their families.”
“Was it some kind of law, like when they wouldn’t let Black people vote or drink out of the water fountains?”
He could see Roni waiting for the answer. He swore she was laughing at him. “Well, no.”
“What did the dads do?”
“They went to work and took care of the family.”
“That doesn’t sound fair. That sound fair to you, Mom?”
“On the surface, no, but things were different back then. Men sorta ran things.”
“Why?”
“Well, a lot of them didn’t think women were smart enough to do stuff.”
“What?”
When Reggie cut Roni an impatient look, she responded with, “You explain it to her, then.”
He’d come into the room with the intention of trying to iron things out, only to find himself caught up in a dilemma not of his making.
“I need to finish getting ready.”
As he headed for the door, he heard Zoey say, “They should’ve called Martin Luther King. He’d’ve fixed that.”
Roni entered their bedroom a few minutes later. “That child of ours is something else.”
“Yes, she is. Martin Luther King.”
“Women’s roles back then probably confuse a lot of the girls these days.”
“Probably, but I didn’t like having to defend my entire gender.”
Her flinty-eyed response to that made him instantly regret the words and, more importantly, his snappish tone.
“It’s kind of hard defending the indefensible, isn’t it?” she asked coldly.
He exhaled an angry sigh. “I’ll be leaving before Zoey gets up in the morning, so let me go say good-bye.”
She shot him a terse nod.
He left.
“Hey Zoey,” he called, sticking his head back in through her open door again. The TV was off, and she was sitting up in bed, reading. “What’re you reading?”
“The book you ordered for me.” She’d found it on Amazon a few weeks back and had to have it. It was titled Car: The Definitive Visual History of the Automobile. It chronicled the history of automobiles and was filled with great glossy pictures.
“Enjoying it?”
“A lot.”
“I’m going to Seattle in the morning. Just came to say good-bye.”
She put the book aside and scooted over so he could sit on the edge of the bed, as he always did at the end of their day. “Is this the medical conference you were telling me about?”
He nodded.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Should be back Saturday afternoon.” From the first time they met, she’d been the daughter of his heart. He’d always remember the evening Bernadine announced the matching of foster parents to kids. Zoey had been slated for Sheila and Colonel Payne, but instead she’d walked over to him, grabbed his hand, and staked her claim. “I’m going to miss you while I’m away.”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
This trip would mark their first prolonged separation. During Roni’s descent into the studio they’d formed quite a bond, with their nightly checkers games, their fishing trips to Tamar’s creek, and him watching her working on the cars with Trent and Amari. “Take care of Mama Roni while I’m gone.”
“I will. Are you getting a divorce?”
That threw him. “No. Now that Mom’s home, things will be better.”
“She’s going to record again, right?”
“Would it be so bad to have her here all the time?”
“Like Beaver’s mom?”
“Maybe?”
“She’d be sad without her music.”
He knew that to be true, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “She won’t turn into Mrs. Cleaver. Promise. And we’re not getting a divorce either.”
“Good.”
He leaned over and kissed her brow. “Another twenty minutes, and then lights out.”
“Okay. Did Mom talk to you about me driving go-karts? I really want to.”
“She hasn’t said anything, but how about we talk about it when I get back from Seattle?”
“But that’s a long time from now.”
“When I get back.” Reggie smiled and left. Go-karts. When he entered their bedroom, Roni wasn’t there. He noticed her pillow was gone from the bed, as well. In the empty space lay a note: Don’t want you to have to fake being asleep. I’ll use the guest room. Have a safe flight.
He dropped his head. As he got into bed, he could hear the faint strains of the piano being played downstairs. Feeling like a world-class jerk, he turned out the lights.
On the ride to the airport with Trent the following morning, Reggie thought back on the note. “Why are women so complicated?”
Trent looked over. “That rhetorical?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
Being the good friend that he was, Trent didn’t press him to explain. He just drove and remained silent.
“Why is it so wrong for me to want my wife to be at home?” Reggie asked.
“Is that what’s going on with you two?”
He nodded. “I don’t think it’s fair to Zoey for her to be gone as much as she is.”
“Zoey or you?”
“Zoey.”
“Ahh.”
Reggie knew that was a lie. “Who am I kidding? I feel like the colonel.”
Trent chuckled. “I don’t think the town can handle two Neanderthals, Reg. Although Barrett seems to have seen the light.”
“My mom didn’t work outside the house, and she was fine.”
“Was she a Grammy Award–winning superstar?”
He didn’t respond.
“Music is her life, man. You knew that when you married her, right?”
“When I married her, music was on the back burner.”
“Lily always says, ‘Husbands and children don’t like change.’ What if Roni asked you to give up your practice?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“But it’s okay for you to want her to give up hers?”
“No, but—”
“But what?”
“Honestly, I liked things better when she was home and I was the provider.”
“Back to Neanderthal mode.”
“I guess.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“Can’t defend the indefensible.”
“True, but it’s either try to or get with the change.”
Reggie sighed audibly.
“How’s Zoey handling the undercurrents?”
“Asked me if we were getting a divorce. I told her no. She wanted to know if I was going to turn Roni into June Cleaver.”
Trent laughed. “Roni will become June Cleaver the same day my Lily does.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Talk to her, man. Put all your cards on the table and start there.”
“I need to do something. I started this ball rolling, but I had no idea it was going to roll back and flatten me like somebody in one of those old-school cartoons.”
“Then you need to fix it.”
Reggie knew Trent was right, but he wasn’t sure it was fixable. Roni had never slept in the guest room before. This morning when he was moving around, getting ready to leave, he kept hoping she’d show up to see him off, but she hadn’t, and he supposed after faking sleep the other night, he was getting what he deserved. Why he thought there’d be no ramifications for hurting her feelings the way he had was tied to the Neanderthal thinking. He’d wanted to prove to her that he held the reins and to show his displeasure, and now those same reins were around his neck, slowly choking him and their marriage to death. “Zoey asked me about go-kart racing. I know you used to take Amari all the time. Do you think she’s too young?”
“No. There are girls at the track who are younger. The boys sometimes give them a hard time, but I know she can handle herself.”
Reggie agreed with that. “Okay. I’ll talk to you about the ins and outs when I get back.”
“No problem.”
Trent let him out in front of the terminal doors.
“Thanks, man. And thanks for listening.”
“You’re welcome. Have a safe trip and a good time.”
“Gonna try.” But as Reg went through the doors, he conceded that having a good time was going to be easier said than done.