Soulful Strut Page 30

  “Here.” Monette handed her the termination letter.Candi scanned the letter and tossed it on the floor. “Whatever.”

  Monette watched her stomp out of the office. Instead of feeling depressed, Monette felt numb. She wanted to help Candi, but she wasn’t prepared to go down with her. Candi had demanded street loyalty that Monette would not give. Instead she would concentrate on helping women like Tyeisha and Lenore, those really trying to grab a better life. Still, she had to wonder about Candi’s next move.

  ***

  Later at the halfway house the other residents filtered in from their jobs. Monette listened as they talked about plans for the weekend. Monette wished she had a reason to feel such anticipation. She went outside to sit on the porch once she saw no one else was there. Jayson pulled up in his Jeep. As usual, he looked handsome even in his work clothes. Dark sunglasses made him even sexier.

  “TGIF,” he called out as she walked toward him.

  “I agree. What’s up?” Monette squinted into the late afternoon sunshine.

  “Thought I’d make celebrating Friday a regular thing,” Jayson answered with a smile.

  “I’m swamped with stuff to do.” Monette lifted a shoulder.

  “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re trying to dump me,” Jayson joked. “I can tell you had a rough day.”

  “You could say that, yeah.” Monette gave a sharp, bitter laugh.

  “Even more reason to spend quality time with me. I can take you to a quiet spot for dinner. I have food already. That way you can go home to write and I’ll get back to the garage to finish up my day. Okay, this is where you say, ‘Good planning.’ ” Jayson opened the door for her.

  “Good planning,” Monette echoed. She gave him a tired smile.

  “Your limo, ma’am. I’m a player, right?” Jayson patted the passenger seat and gestured for her to get in.

  “Not even. And don’t change. I’ll let them know and be right back.”

  Monette went inside to sign out before leaving. As she went upstairs to get her purse, she passed Candi and Yarva. Candi didn’t look at her. Yarva gazed at her with contempt, seemed about to say something, and then kept walking instead. When Monette went back outside, she got into the Jeep feeling down.

  Jayson drove them downtown to Capital Lake. Monette put on her sunglasses, grateful for something to hide behind. He found a shady spot beneath a huge oak tree on the bank. Stone benches had been placed at intervals. A breeze made the late-spring, sunny day pleasant. He carried their lunch and wiped the seat for Monette.

  “I have two wonderful seafood plates from Miss Lu-Lu’s café. Your favorite strawberry soda, and for dessert, homemade banana pudding.” Jayson pulled items from a large insulated bag.

  “You thought of everything.” Monette gazed at him. She was touched by how sweet he was to her. Tears formed in her eyes. She sniffed.

  “Hey, you definitely had a bad day.” Jayson put the bag down on the grass. “Tell me what happened.”

  Monette pulled herself back together quickly. She used a napkin he handed her to blot her eyes. She readjusted her sunglasses and smiled. “Same old story. Too much to do in too little time.”

  “That’s a fake cheerful voice if I ever heard one.” Jayson tried to take off her sunglasses.

  She batted his hand away playfully. “Will you stop? All this pollen just got to me is all.”

  “You never complained about allergies before.” Jayson took off his sunglasses to really scrutinize her.

  “Pollen must be worse today, I guess.” Monette reached into the bag and got a plastic bottle of soda. “A cool drink would be just right.”

  “I want you to tell me if anything serious is bothering you, Monette,” Jayson said in a serious tone.

  “Okay, I’m really hungry. So less talking and more eating.” Monette picked up a bag and handed it to him.

  Jayson laughed. “Good idea. My stomach will start making loud noises in a minute.”

  Monette continued to simulate cheerful talk. Jayson glanced at her a few times when she got too quiet. She decided to finish her food quickly. Keeping up the act was a strain. After a few minutes, Monette closed the plastic container with her food. She’d only eaten half of the meal.

  “You didn’t eat very much.” Jayson pointed to the box.

  “I’ll save the rest for later. That po’boy is huge. I’m full, though.” Monette patted her stomach.

  “You’re going to be hungry later, I bet. Anyway, I thought we could take in a movie and then—”

  “I’m not sure about tonight. I’ve got so much to do.” Monette brushed crumbs from her lap. She packed the insulated bag, and then looked out over the lake. “Nice view.”

  “Hey, we always kick off the weekend together. Work a little harder tomorrow. That way we can play later tonight.” Jayson straddled the bench and put both arms around Monette.

  “Nah. Besides, I’m tired already. By the time I finish writing and doing chores, I’ll be no good to you.” Monette looked at her wristwatch.

  “Then you rest up and we’ll make it a Saturday celebration instead.” Jayson leaned forward to kiss her.

  “Let’s not.” Monette moved her head away. She steeled herself to finally do what was best for him. “Things are pretty bad for me right now, and I don’t want to bring you into it. Taking a break wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  “What?” Jayson blinked at her as though she’d just slapped him. “Out of the blue. Just like that, let’s take a break.”

  “I’m not gonna be pardoned, Jayson. That means on paper I’m a convicted felon. If Winn Barron has his way, my parole could be revoked any day. With all that coming at me, I just need breathing room.” Monette pushed away his attempt to embrace her.

  “Now is the time when we should be even closer, honey. You think I’ll run because you’re going through something? No way.” He reached for her hand, but Monette moved further away from him.

  “Right, you’re going to visit me in prison. You gonna bring Lenae, too? I’ll bet her mommy and grandparents will just love that,” Monette said harshly. When Jayson winced as though seeing that image, she nodded slowly. “Yeah, now you’re getting it. Think about it some more and you’ll see I’m right. Let’s just go.”

  “There’s a better way to handle this, Monette,” Jayson called after her as Monette went to the Jeep. Then he followed her. “Don’t play that tough loner act with me. I know better.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s the whole point. Just take me back to the house, okay?”

  Monette got in and hugged the passenger door to be as far away from Jayson as possible. He seemed at a loss for words during the short ride back to New Beginnings. Jayson looked at her from time to time. Monette stared straight ahead, but she was aware of his every gesture, every false start to talk. She ached to take comfort in his arms, but she resisted being selfish. When he pulled into the driveway at the halfway house, Monette jumped out just as the Jeep stopped moving.

  Monette drew up the courage to look at him. Her resolve almost crumbled when he took off his sunglasses. His eyes, rich and brown, peered right into her heart. She was sure he could see she wanted to stay by his side.

  “Thanks for everything,” Monette said in what she hoped was a cool tone. She waved at him and turned to go inside.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Jayson called out. “Don’t do this.”

  She kept walking with her head up. “Tyeisha and Lenore sat on the porch in the cypress swing, chatting. They stopped talking when Monette approached. The sound of the Jeep’s engine as Jayson drove off nearly did her in, but Monette managed to hold it together.

  “Hey, Monette. If we can help—,” Tyeisha started.

  Monette merely waved them away and kept going. She made it to her bedroom before the tears came again.

  ***

  Saturday Monette had another resident tell Jayson she wasn’t feeling good. Sunday he called four times, twice before church and twice befor
e he went to Sunday dinner with his family. She had Lenore answer her calls. Afraid she might give in herself, Monette begged Lenore to keep giving excuses.

  Later Monette spent hours walking downtown on the riverfront. She had endured all she could of Yarva’s smirks. In spite of the hot sunshine, Monette lingered on the stone pathway atop the levee looking across the wide river. Trees swayed in a hot wind on the west bank of the Mississippi. After a while she walked back downtown. A restaurant on Third Street served food at sidewalk tables. Monette ordered a glass of lemonade after she sat down. When Candi came around the comer, Monette doubted it was a coincidence.

  “Hey.” Candi stood over her.

  “Hey.” Monette watched people go by.

  “Can I sit down?”

  “Help yourself.” Monette continued to people watch.

  “I heard about the pardon and everything. Sorry.” Candi fiddled with the plastic salt shaker on the table.

  “Hmm.”

  “Look, about that job, maybe you were right.” Candi put the white plastic bottle down, then picked it up again.

  “That’s your idea of an apology.” Monette looked at her.

  “Hey, you acted all uppity. At least Yarva didn’t make me feel like some underachiever,” Candi blurted out.

  “Great. You can be nothing together. Just don’t try to make me feel guilty,” Monette shot back. When the waitress brought out the glass, Monette tossed a couple of dollar bills down on the table. “You can have it. I need more fresh air.”

  She walked back to the halfway house alone. Her mother was on the front porch when she got there. Monette heaved a sigh of resignation as she got closer. She should have known that once the money stopped flowing, one of her relatives would show up. A man waited in an old Cadillac parked on the street.

  “Hey, girl. I tried to call you, but DeWayne’s cell phone kept losing the signal. That’s DeWayne. Wave to him.”

  Monette obeyed. The man grinned and waved back. “Nice to meet you, DeWayne. Sort of,” Monette mumbled.

  “How ya doin’? Listen, I’m not gonna be in your way long, sweetie. ’Sides, DeWayne doesn’t stay out too late.” Annabelle frowned behind her fake tortoiseshell sunglasses.

  “It’s only four in the afternoon.” Monette sat in the wooden swing.

  Annabelle sat next to her. “Yeah, well the man is close to sixty-five.”

  “Kinda old for you. I mean, you usually like them younger,” Monette deadpanned.

  “These young men expect you to be their sugar mama. I’m not spending what little money I have on some guy.” Annabelle snorted to show what she thought of that idea.

  “Right.”

  “I’m struggling as it is. Rita ain’t no help. Don’t get me started on your brothers.” Annabelle rolled her eyes.

  “I won’t,” Monette replied. She crossed her arms, waiting for the pitch.

  “Anyway, I hate to ask, but could you let me hold a couple of bills. Two months, three at most.” Annabelle gave Monette’s arm a tap. “You know how it is.”

  “We both know you’re not going to pay me back, Mama.” Monette already had the money in her pocket. She’d known Annabelle would show up sooner or later. She handed her two hundred dollars.

  Her mother counted it and clicked her tongue. “The thing is we need a little bit more than this, sugar.”

  “That’s all I’ve got and that’s all you’re going to get. Period. Don’t waste DeWayne’s gas driving over here again.” Monette looked at her.

  “Giving me a little change don’t mean you can talk smart, girl,” Annabelle barked. She stuffed the money into her hot-pink beaded purse. “I’m your mama and you ain’t too grown to get a whippin’.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “We need to stick together, Monette Elise. Like it or not, we’re the only family you’ve got.” Annabelle stood over Monette. She put a hand on one wide hip.

  “True.” Monette refrained from adding just how sad that fact made her feel.

  “Shoot we don’t need to be fussin’ over money. That’s not the only reason I come over to see you anyway, and don’t give me that look,” Annabelle snapped when Monette snorted. “Hey, one of your girls from back in the day told me about that newspaper article. She was braggin’ about it around town.”

  “Yeah; Tiffany did me a real favor by talking to that reporter,” Monette retorted.

  “Well, she could’ve left out some that stuff. She didn’t mention none of the dirt she did back then. I told her so, too. Claimed she was trying to help. Saw her and that deputy y’all used to hang around at The Black Cat Cafe the other Saturday. He’s retired and—”

  “What did you just say?” Monette grabbed her mother’s arm.

  “You know, what’s his name. Lloyd. Used to be with Jerry all the time.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “They did all kinds of stuff for Winn Barron. Says he feels real bad about it, too.”

  “Yes, I do. He hung around the DA’s office back then. He was Jerry’s good buddy.” Monette remembered the little round man with chocolate-brown skin.

  “Poor old Jerry. Went from the big time to the jailhouse. You know he was the first black investigator for the district attorney. Wasn’t no good when he was a deputy.” Annabelle dug through her purse and pulled out a lipstick.

  “So Lloyd is retired. Maybe he doesn’t have anything to lose by telling the truth,” Monette murmured.

  “I didn’t hear you, sugar. Damn, I better go. DeWayne is nodding off in the car.” Annabelle frowned as she glanced at him. “DeWayne, wake up!”

  “Judging by the way he looks, you better drive.” Monette watched the gray head bob until it almost hit the steering wheel. She was sure Annabelle had found him in some raggedy, backwoods juke joint.

  “Chile, DeWayne won’t let me drive that piece of junk. He keeps it nice, though. Look at those fancy faux zebra skin seat covers.” Annabelle nodded at the red car.

  “Very classy,” Monette replied and rolled her eyes again.

  “Next time I’m going to stay longer. We can have a good talk about what’s goin’ on with you. My car should be fixed again real soon. Bye, baby.” Annabelle pecked Monette’s forehead.

  “Wait, give me Tiffany’s phone number. I need Lloyd’s number, too, if you know it.” Monette pulled Annabelle toward the front door despite her mother’s protest.

  “I know her mama’s phone. All I know about Lloyd is he lives on Black Bayou Lane and—”

  “Come inside so I can write everything down.” Monette tugged harder.

  “Girl, DeWayne is waitin’ on me,” Annabelle complained as she resisted going inside.

  “He can nap a little longer.”

  Monette yanked harder until they were both through the door and in the foyer. She found the message pad and ink pen by the hall phone. She wrote down the numbers and called Jim once Annabelle was gone.

  ***

  Two days later Jim came to the halfway house. He met with Monette in Sherrial’s office. “How are you?”

  “That depends on what you tell me,” Monette replied. “Well?”

  “The former deputy wasn’t hard to convince, especially once I assured him his pension was secure. Mostly his conscience is what convinced him. He’s been feeling bad for years, but he was too scared of the Barron family to talk. But he did give me this notarized statement I’m going to submit it to the Pardon Board.” Jim opened his briefcase and handed her the statement four legal-sized pages.

  Monette read the account of how she’d been framed. Her hands shook as she read about how her life had unraveled. She flipped the pages, reading faster. “I didn’t know some of these details.”

  “Right. He filled in some facts that Hines left out. Winn Barron is going to be very sorry he didn’t stay in Palm Beach.”

  “I was such an idiot. I should have known these people would turn on me.” Monette handed the statement back to Jim.

  “Which doesn’t change the fact that they broke the law. But I thin
k Lloyd was a decent guy who didn’t have the courage to stand up back then,” Jim said firmly. “Your friend Tiffany is another matter.”

  “Humph. Tiffany wouldn’t know a conscience if one walked up and slapped her across the face. How much did she ask for?” Monette laughed when Jim grimaced.

  “More than she was ever going to get. She wanted to have an auction between Barron and me. The highest bidder would get a nice statement. Then I explained the basics of Louisiana extortion laws, and that I knew she had pending charges.”

  “Let me guess. She became very interested in seeing truth and justice win out,” Monette replied.

  “After I threw in an offer to represent her pro bono on those pending misdemeanor theft charges.” Jim handed her the statement. “Here it is.”

  The statement was taken down just the way Tiffany talked, street slang and all. Still, it was a clear description of her firsthand knowledge about wrongdoing in the Pointe Coupee district attorney’s office. Monette finally let out the breath she’d been figuratively holding for days.

  “Good old Tiffany.” Monette scanned the document before handing it back to him. She’d had enough of reading about that part of her past.

  “So this should make things right for you.” Jim snapped his briefcase shut again.

  Monette wished it could be that simple. “Sort of. I’ve still got a ways to go. You know those rules Trudy gave me that first day? Sherrial was a little more liberal, but now I know Trudy was right. Just getting my life straight is a full-time job. I don’t have any right to inflict all the problems I have on anyone else.”

  Jim studied her for a few seconds. “You do face challenges in spite of all you’ve managed to accomplish.”

  “You mean the Pardon Board could very well refuse to hold another hearing. The Barron family still has clout. Yeah, I know.” Monette felt lonely again, but at least she could protect Jayson.

  ***

  The next day Monette sat outside on the patio. She’d hoped the sunshine would lift her spirits, but after an hour of waiting, she’d given up. She watched clouds drift along. There were no answers in the sky either. Not that she had questions. Although all she could think about was a pair of brown eyes and strong arms, Monette knew what was best Lenore came outside.“Jayson called again. When I told him you still weren’t feeling well, he said he was coming over.”