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“Zayden,” Boyd said. “You got two seconds to get out of my restaurant.”
He leaned back in the chair and put his feet on the table. “Our money no good here?”
“Isn’t that a switch?” Morris asked. “I bet when you were growing up they didn’t serve your ass in a lot of these places either. Now you turn around and refuse us service?”
“That’s what the world’s coming to though,” Zayden said. “Reverse racism. It’s a crime to be a white man.”
Boyd exhaled as Odelia rubbed his shoulders.
“Breath,” she whispered. “Don’t do nothing stupid.”
“You guys uppity just like Channing,” Zayden said. “I see where she gets it from.”
“She’s a fox.” Morris wiggled with a lewd glint in his eye. “Wouldn’t mind sampling some of that.”
“Watch it,” Boyd said.
“And what about that other one?” Zayden whistled. “The school teacher? Man is she sexy.”
“Mm hmm.” Tilly wagged his tongue and laughed. “The teachers weren’t that sexy when I was in elementary.”
“Oh, you mean you’re not anymore?” Boyd asked.
Odelia snickered under her hand.
“Yep, Sonjay is something else.” Zayden moaned. “Does she like younger guys because I’d love to do some late-night tutoring with her. I better be careful though. Might lose her when I turn the lights off.”
The guys guffawed.
“You bastard.” Boyd reached for his neck but Odelia grabbed him.
“Leave.” Odelia stepped in front of Boyd. “We’re not serving you here.”
“Well, well.” Zayden stood, eyeing Odelia. “Mrs. Mills, I can see where your daughters get their good looks from.”
Boyd pushed her behind him. “Say one more thing to my wife and they’ll be scraping you off this floor.”
“Don’t you have better things to do than cause trouble, Zayden?” Odelia asked.
Zayden sat and leaned back, grabbing his head. “Channing is the one causing trouble.”
“No,” Boyd said. “Nate Lancaster started this mess and no one else.”
“Go,” Odelia said. “Please.”
“You’re refusing to serve us?” Tilly pretended to be offended. “Isn’t that discrimination?”
They laughed.
“It’s discrimination if we don’t serve you because of the color of your skin.” Odelia smiled. “Not if we don’t serve you because you’re assholes.”
“Get out.” Boyd shoved the table. “I’m warning you.”
“Calm down, old man,” Morris said. “Before you have a heart attack or something.”
“Yeah.” Zayden snapped his fingers. “Tell your mammy here to get me something to eat.”
Odelia shrieked, “Mammy?”
The guys laughed.
“I got your mammy.” Boyd snatched Zayden’s neck, yanking him from the chair. “Don’t hold me back, Delia.”
“Oh I won’t. Kick his ass. Who is he calling ‘mammy’?”
“Get your ass out of here.” Boyd dragged Zayden out the door and tossed him to the sidewalk. “Leave while you still got a chance.”
The others scurried out the restaurant and helped Zayden.
“If you come back here again,” Boyd said. “I’ll beat the dog shit out of all of you. Get the hell on.” He lunged at them, raising his fist. “Move it!”
“Come on.” Tilly nudged Zayden and ran off after Morris.
Boyd stared at Zayden, his shoulders in the air. “You still here?”
Zayden spit his gum on the pavement. “You’ve dug your grave now, old man.” He glanced at Odelia, nodding. “I hope you’re ready for this war.”
He walked away, rubbing his neck.
****
Channing entered Presley’s room, exchanging smiles with Rickie the nurse. “Hi, sweetie.” She pulled the bouquet of pink carnations from behind her back. “Look at what Mommy brought you.” She set the flowers on the table by the window stuffed with gifts. “All these presents.” Channing stroked Presley’s head. “How has she been?”
“Great.” Rickie’s scrubs made a noise as she waltzed her plump self to the bed, her gold hair wrapped in a tight bun. “We had to change her catheter because it was leaking.” She checked Presley’s feeding tube.
“You’ve been upbeat. Would it have something to do with Mr. Abraham?”
Channing noticed her hands blushing. “Mind your business.”
Rickie giggled. “Your mood has changed big time since he came to town. It’s like you remember you have a life again.”
“Not sure he’ll want to see me again after the fight we had last night. It was my fault.”
“Something tells me you’ll be seeing him again.” A smile peeked through Rickie’s puffy cheeks. “He cares about you a lot. I can tell when he visits Presley.”
“He’s shown more love for her in the short while he’s been here than her father has ever since she was born. People say I’m strong.” Channing stroked her daughter’s hand. “Presley’s the strong one.”
“She’ll come out of this.” Rickie hugged Channing. “You can’t give up hope.”
“I’d give anything for this to be over.” Channing sniffled. “Anything.”
“Rickie?” a female spoke over the PA system. “Please report to the nurse’s station. Rickie, please report to the nurse’s station.”
“Uh-oh.” Channing dabbed her eyes. “You in trouble?”
“Nah.” Rickie flounced to the door, scrubs sounding like plastic. “At least I hope not. I’ll be back.”
“Okay.”
Rickie left and hurried back into the room a moment later, her face wrecked with shock. “Someone wants to see Presley. It’s Nate Lancaster. I told him you wouldn’t approve—”
“Let him in.”
“What?”
“I want him to see the damage he’s done.”
Rickie hesitated before going to the door. “You can come in.”
“Hi.” Nate’s baseball cap hid his eyes, but Channing felt his gaze on her. “This is for Presley.” He held out a fuzzy, red teddy bear.
Channing sat stiff, refusing to show emotion. “Sit it on the table with the other gifts.”
He set the bear on a pile of dolls. “Jeez all these toys.” His moan hinted to his despair. “She’s loved.”
“Is all you wanted was to bring the bear?” Channing struggled to keep her temper as the man who’d left her daughter to die pawed Presley’s gifts.
Nate dropped his head. “Can I see stay a while?”
Channing nodded at Rickie who left the room.
“Man, I hate how hospitals smell.” Nate sunk his hands deep into his denim pockets. “Always gets to me. Disinfectant.”
“Be respectful and take off your cap.”
He touched it. “No.”
“Why? Because you don’t want me to see the shame in your eyes?”
“Channing, I didn’t come here to make trouble.”
“Then why are you here?”
He inched toward the bed smelling of salami and indignity.
“Your clothes are disgusting.”
He pulled at his dingy, dark gray hoodie.
“Your hair, do you even try to comb it, Nate? Those pants look like they haven’t been washed in months. Is this some ploy for people to feel sorry for you? You used to care about how you looked. Wasn’t much you cared about besides that, football, and food.”
“Insult me.” He nodded. “I deserve it.”
“You deserve a lot more than that.”
“True but you couldn’t find words to say that’s worse than what I say to myself.” He went to the other side of the bed. “I’ve been reading about people in comas. They can hear you, and they have vibrations. She can tell we’re here.”
“I’m trying so hard not to wrap my fingers around your throat.”
“I welcome it.” His lips tightened. “Death would be an improvement. I’m sorry, Channing.” He shook his head. “I am so sorry.”
“Should I be grateful? The only way you can make things right is if you were lying in this bed instead of my daughter. What in hell made you could come here? Because you saved me and Anderson from your crazy cousin? Is that supposed to erase what you’ve done?”
“No.” He raised his head, revealing tears. “No matter what I do or say, nothing will change this. Lord knows I’ve tried to erase it, Channing. I’ve tried to make it go away, but it hasn’t.”
“You want it to go away to ease your guilt?”
“I want her to grow up and have kids.” He wept, shuddering. “I can’t live with being the one who ruins her life.”
Channing just stared at him. Part of her aching for him while the other celebrated his grief.
“She’ll make it.” He took off his cap and squeezed it to his chest. “She’ll go to college, fall in love and give you grandchildren. Trust me.”
Channing fought tears.
“Channing, I need you to believe I’m sorry.” He got on his knees before her, lowering his head. “Please, believe that. Forgive me, please.”
“Nate.”
“Please.” He grabbing her into a smothering hug. “I don’t care about nothing else just say you forgive me. I got no right to ask but I need you to.”
“Let me go—”
“I’ll do the right thing by Presley.” He squeezed her, wailing. “I promise.”
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t speak for a moment and then stood, putting on his cap. “Presley’s suffering won’t be in vain.” He went to the door. “I’m sorry again, Channing.”
“What did you meant?” She stood. “How will you do the right thing?”
He watched her with half-closed eyes. “When Presley wakes up, tell her I’m sorry.”
He left, leaving Channing to wrestle with his baffling admission.