Soulful Strut Page 9

  “Look at you. Tall, dark and handsome. How are LaTrice and the kids?” Monette shook her head. “Still can’t get used to being a grandmother.”

  “They’re all fine. Them kids are growing like weeds, as the old folks say. You look great, Monette. Guess I could call you mama once in a while, too.” Karl gave her a shy smile.

  “You better.” Monette placed a palm on his right cheek. His skin was still smooth from having shaved. Then she pulled him over to a sofa. “Come on and sit down with me. Unless you got to rush off.”

  “Nah. How you doin’?” Karl stretched one long arm along the back of the sofa. He gazed at Monette as though searching for answers.

  “Fine. Busy, busy, busy.” Monette shrugged and smiled at him.

  “I worried about you all the time. Prison is a tough place. I oughta know.”

  “But look at you. Got a good job, a family and your own home. I’m glad you survived having me for a mother.” Monette swallowed the bitter taste of guilt that burned the back of her throat.

  “I can’t blame everything on you. I made some of my own bad choices. You did the best you could.” Karl took one of her hands into his large one.

  Monette brought it to her cheek and relished the gift of being able to touch her son. “You give me more credit than I have a right to expect.”

  “Sorry I took so long to come see ya. I’ve been workin’ lots of overtime. Karl Jr. been sick with the flu and we just had our hands full.” Karl gave a shrug of apology.

  “Don’t you worry about me. I know you got your life to live. I’m just glad you’re happy.” Monette let go of his hand. “You talked to your sisters lately?”

  “Alisa don’t call often. I mean you know how it is. She’s in college.”

  Monette’s pain was tempered by the knowledge that Alisa had every advantage—her adoptive parents and two older sisters doted on her. They were a family in every sense except genetically. Alisa even resembled the Randalls.

  “Sure. I understand,” Monette said.

  “She loves her nephews and niece, though. Here, I brought pictures. I took some of these last Christmas.” Karl took the photos from his shirt pocket.

  “Look at these beautiful babies.” Monette took her time as she went through all twelve of the color photographs. Alisa beamed at the camera as she hugged Karl’s three children. She had long, sandy-brown hair that fell below her shoulders and nut-brown skin. Then Monette came to a picture of Karl with one arm around Talia and the other around Alisa.

  ‘Talia came down to visit Mama Rose around that time, too,” Karl explained.

  ‘That’s good. At least she keeps in touch with you,” Monette said without looking at him.

  “Yeah. Has she called yet?”

  “You know the answer to that question.” Monette stared at her oldest daughter. Talia had Monette’s mouth and her temper. The part of Juan Marchand that came through was the beautiful, golden-brown eyes. Another picture showed Talia with her handsome husband, Derrick.

  “She’s real busy up there in D.C. ya know. Her and Derrick travel a lot, too,” Karl explained quickly.

  “Sure she is. It’s okay.”

  Monette stared at Talia’s picture for a long time, holding back a sob until her jaws ached. Crazy to think she had cried herself out years ago. Karl had been in group homes or correctional facilities most of his teen years. Because of their separation, he imagined Monette as the ideal mother he wanted, not the irresponsible player who darted in and out of his life. Alisa had only been six months old when she’d been adopted. Unlike her sister and brother, Talia had stayed with Monette through hell. Talia had no illusions about Monette and the things she’d done. Karl broke into Monette’s thoughts when he touched her shoulder.

  “Hey, let’s have dinner. You, me and the family.”

  “I’d love that. I need to fix my hair. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Monette jumped up and hurried out.

  “We’ve been waiting a long time. A few extra minutes won’t be a problem,” Karl called after her as she took the stairs fast. She almost ran into Candi, who was coming out of their bedroom.

  “Slow down. We got plenty of time to get to the movies now. No use runnin’.”

  “Sorry, Candi. I’m goin’ out to eat with my family.” Monette slipped out of the plaid oversized shirt she wore and pulled the red blouse over her head. She smoothed it down, and then grabbed a hairbrush. “I’ll get to see my grand-kids.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Candi watched her.

  Monette styled her hair until she was reasonably pleased with the results. “Can’t wait to see them. I never let Karl bring them to the prison. That’s no place for kids to see their grandmother.”

  “Sure. We can see a movie tomorrow night maybe.” Candi chewed her bottom lip.

  “I don’t know. Tell you what; we’ll catch a movie on your next day off.” Monette checked her appearance in the mirror again, and then searched the closet for her purse. She finally found it, stuffed her small cosmetic bag into it, and whirled to face Candi. “How’s that?”

  “Go on and have a great time.” Candi smiled back. “Don’t keep that fine son of yours waitin’ too long. You know how these man-hungry women just outta prison can be.” Monette burst out laughing. She flipped a brief goodbye wave as she went down the stairs fast. “Girl, you so crazy. Then again, you got a good point.”

  “Yeah. Bye.” Candi leaned against the banister until Yarva came out of her bedroom and gestured to her. “I’m available for a game of pool after all.”

  “Hell, we can go to the movies if you want to,” Yarva replied.

  “That’s right. Don’t miss the movie because of me,” Monette said and paused at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Real generous of Your Highness,” Yarva tossed back. She pulled Candi away.

  “Told you I’d be ready fast,” Monette said when Karl came out to meet her in the hallway.

  “Let’s meet up with the rest of the family then.” Karl hooked his arm through hers.

  “Sounds good. Real good.” Monette felt light-headed with joy as she walked arm in arm with her son toward his tan Ford Explorer.

  ***

  Monday morning dawned rainy and gray. Monette didn’t care. She’d had a wonderful weekend with Karl, LaTrice, and the kids. They’d begged her until she’d relented and attended church with them Sunday. After such a glorious two days, no amount of thunder or rain could dampen her spirits. She hummed as she dressed, taking time to glance over her notes for her show.

  “Good luck with the gig. Didn’t get a chance to tell you over the weekend ’cause you were both so busy,” Candi said on her way out to catch the bus to work.

  Monette felt a tinge of guilt at neglecting her friend. She stopped combing her hair to give Candi a hug. “Thanks, but I’m not sure how long it’s going to last”

  “You’ll be a star at the place soon. Not strugglin’ just to get through a week and collect minimum wages.” Candi looked down at the dingy white uniform she wore.

  “Girl, please. The money they’re paying me at KTQL is pitiful. Trust me; I won’t be getting rich by being on the radio. You probably make more than I do,” Monette joked.

  Candi shook her head. “You’re not like me.”

  “Hey, Candi. They not gonna hold the bus for you and Her Majesty. Get down here,” Yarva called from below.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Monette shot back. She was about to say more, and then took a deep breath. “That bee-itch is working on my nerves.”

  “The new you is havin’ a tough time with the old you,” Candi teased. Mischief tugged her mouth into a smirk. She ducked when Monette took a playful swing at her.

  When Candi scurried down the steps, Monette followed her, as if in hot pursuit. “You better hustle your behind out of my reach.”

  Sherrial appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “Good morning, ladies. Monette, I’m going to give you a ride to the station.”

  “I can take the bus. You don’t have to
go out of your way for me,” Monette replied, conscious that Yarva and several other women glanced back. She did not want them all to resent her.

  “I need to go in that direction to buy office supplies and attend a meeting.” Sherrial dismissed her objection. “Besides, I’d like to see the station and meet Mr. Franklin.”

  “Well, since it’s on your way. I’m ready,” Monette replied.

  “No hurry. We don’t have to leave for at least another half hour. Have a second cup of coffee while I make a few phone calls.” Sherrial went back to her office.

  “Yeah, just relax and put your feet up,” Yarva muttered. She jerked her head, and then headed out the door with the other women behind her.

  “See, you’re not like us.” Candi winked at Monette. Still, sadness tinged the teasing tone of her voice. She waved goodbye and left.

  Monette went to the window. She watched them walk down the cracked sidewalk trading banter. Their laughter came back on the slight warm breeze. Soon they turned the comer and Monette couldn’t see them. When Trudy bustled in carrying a briefcase, Monette still stood watching them.

  “Good morning. You look like your best friend said goodbye forever.” Trudy gazed at Monette with a kindly expression. “Come on. Monday is just another day of the week.”

  “Yeah,” Monette said, and then faced her with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

  “I’m going to drink more coffee, not let the rain get me down, and charge ahead.” Trudy gave a crisp nod, as though her determination would make it so.

  “Loan me some of those good vibes,” Monette quipped. “I could use them.”

  “Sure. Just so you pay me back with interest one of these days when I’m feeling the blues.” Trudy gave Monette a pat on the arm for encouragement “I’m sure your show today will be great.”

  Sherrial strode down the hall from her office as though on cue. “Hi, Trudy. I’m taking Monette to the radio station. I’ll pick up those office supplies on my way back from the meeting. Let’s go.”

  Monette waved goodbye to Trudy and followed Sherrial through the door. They got in the van parked in the driveway next to the house. After a few grumbles of protest, the van’s engine started up. Sherrial noted the mileage on a clipboard then drove to the street.

  “Gotta give Jayson credit He keeps these old clunkers going,” Sherrial said and patted the dashboard as if she were petting a beloved cat. “Don’t worry. Bessie and I will get you to the station on time.”

  “Sure.”

  Monette prayed the van didn’t break down in the middle of rush-hour traffic. Despite Sherrial’s faith in Jayson’s skills, Monette didn’t think he was a miracle worker. The van rattled and pinged a few times when Sherrial increased speed. Monette held on as Sherrial changed lanes and the speedometer inched up steadily. When the third driver gave them a middle finger, Sherrial stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Park and hug your teddy bear if you’re too scared to drive,” she muttered.

  “Uh, I’d rather be late than dead. Take it easy.” Monette raised both eyebrows at Sherrial. The mild-mannered social worker was gone. In her place was a speed-crazy race-car driver.

  “Never had an accident or a ticket. But you’re right. I’m trying to change my ways and be a good role model for my kid.” Sherrial slowed down by a mere five miles. “How’s that?”

  “Thank you.” Monette still kept a tight hold on the door handle. As a distraction, Monette decided to make conversation. “Jayson seems like a really nice guy. He’s going to be on my show.”

  “Oh, really?” Sherrial glanced at Monette for a second, and then went back to watching the road. “That’s interesting. I always thought he was the manly quiet type, a man of few words.”

  “Well, I can be sorta persuasive. Talked my way out of prison,” Monette said with a grin. “You know much about him?”

  “No more than the basics. Jayson comes from a close-knit family, from what I gather. Other than that I don’t know much. He’s a gentleman whenever he comes to New Beginnings. None of that, ‘Hey, baby’ kind of talk around the ladies.” Sherrial hissed. “Not like this plumber we had last summer. Talk about a lot of drama. Some men act like New Beginnings is the human equivalent of an all-you- can-eat buffet.”

  “I’ll bet the ladies don’t complain.” Monette laughed. Sherrial’s assessment confirmed her impression of Jayson. He didn’t seem like a man who would chase after just anyone. For reasons Monette decided not to examine, that pleased her. A car horn blast jerked her back from remembering Jayson’s handsome smile.

  Sherrial scowled as she passed a slow-moving car. “Little old ladies don’t belong out here during rush hour.”“Please relax. No need for both of us to be tied in knots,” Monette mumbled.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Sherrial maneuvered the van around more vehicles that didn’t move fast enough for her. “Uh, you know we don’t discourage dating, but—”

  “I haven’t been out long, no need to hurry, and my focus should be on other things.” Monette rattled off the reasons she knew Sherrial would give while counting them on her fingers. “Right?”

  “I’m not saying you should try to shut off your feelings. Jayson is a nice guy.” Sherrial seemed to be framing her words with care.

  ‘Too nice for me in other words.” Monette raised an eyebrow at the social worker.

  “That isn’t what I meant, Monette. He’s a conservative, hardworking man. I’m sure he represents the kind of stability that would appeal to you. After all you’ve been through, that is. Even before you went to prison.” Sherrial took an exit ramp off Interstate 110 and came to a stop at a red light.

  “Yes, Sherrial. I know you’ve read my book. He’s not exactly what I used to think of as Mr. Right. Oh, sure, he’s got the looks.” Monette let out an involuntary sigh of appreciation.

  “He sure has,” Sherrial agreed with gusto, and then shrugged when Monette eyed her. The light turned green and she gunned the engine. “I’m happily married, but I’m not blind. The man looks good. I’ve had to rescue him from one of the ladies more than a few times.”

  “Well, I promise you that he’s safe with me. I will handle him like a package stamped fragile. Feel better?”

  “Listen, you’ve got a lot to juggle. Not the least of which is that pardon hearing. Just go slow. Okay?” Sherrial nodded at her.

  “Okay. I won’t run off for a weekend in Jamaica with Jayson until after the hearing. Just kidding.” Monette laughed when Sherrial’s rust-brown eyes popped.

  “Not funny.” Sherrial laughed with her in spite of trying to be serious.

  After another ten minutes in traffic they pulled into the radio station parking lot. The van lurched to a stop, and then shuddered for several seconds as the engine idled.

  “Damn piece of junk. Oh, Lord, I take that back,” Sherrial added quickly.

  Monette clapped her on the shoulder. “Honey, I’m sure he understands. See you later.”

  “Okay. You got a way back? I could pick you up.” Sherrial craned her neck as she looked around.

  “I’ll do just fine on the bus. I’ve been worse places.” Monette got out of the car, grateful they’d made it without crashing.

  “Don’t come whining to me about sitting next to some guy with bad breath.” Sherrial grinned.

  “Come on in. I’ll introduce you to Chaz and the gang,” Monette said.

  “Cool.”

  Sherrial scrambled down from the van. She paused to fuss with her skirt and blouse before following Monette inside. Monette acted like a station veteran as she gave an impressed Sherrial a tour. Chaz gave Sherrial an enthusiastic, though rushed, welcome. He was off to meet with the station owners. Sherrial bubbled with delight when a popular male disc jockey stopped to greet her. The social worker glowed from his charming attention. Once he was gone, they ended the tour at the small room where Monette hosted Hot Topic. Nikki was still on the air. She waved at them through the glass wall.

  “That�
�s about it. Irvin is my producer.” Monette smiled at him, and Irvin grinned back as he kept both hands on the controls.

  “Nice,” Sherrial said, then she noticed the clock on the wall. “I need to get a move on. Sure you don’t want me to swing back by? You might have to wait for me. That meeting could last until lunchtime.”

  “Go on so you won’t have to speed to be on time. You should follow the advice you gave me. Slow down.” Monette shook a forefinger at her.

  “Right. Have a great day. I’ll be listening for your show while I’m driving.” Sherrial waved goodbye, then left.

  Monette smiled at her and waved back. Twenty minutes later she was at the microphone interviewing Dr. Bette Harrison about relationships. As Chaz had predicted, the phone lines were jammed with men and women weighing in on the subject Monette had a great time matching her experiences with Dr. Harrison’s research. In the end they agreed that both sexes had to take responsibility for their poor choices. For the rest of the day Monette pondered the subject mostly because of her talk with Sherrial that morning. She mentally scrolled through the rogue’s gallery that comprised her ex-boyfriends. Sherrial had one thing right Monette would do well to keep her thoughts pure and her focus on other matters. Besides, even though the social worker hadn’t said as much, Jayson probably was too “nice” for Monette. Why should she complicate her life? Or his, for that matter.

  By the time she finished at the station, it was eleven-thirty. Monette decided to treat herself to a nice lunch. She didn’t need to hurry back to New Beginnings. After all, Sherrial had advised her to get into life at cruising speed. The receptionist gave Monette a succinct review of nearby restaurants. At her urging, Monette decided on a deli a block away. The stroll down to Bailey’s Cafe was a pleasant one. She didn’t mind the warm spring day. After ordering a hamburger and diet soda, Monette enjoyed an hour of watching people through the wall of glass that took up the front of the cafe.