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Authors: Casey McMillin

Seeing Clearly (16 page)

BOOK: Seeing Clearly
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We were all just standing around in the dining room area, which was situated between the living room and the kitchen. Their house was about the size of my apartment, but there was only one of me living in mine. I imagined they felt pretty tight in here, especially with the boys getting so big. Tonia kept a clean house despite it being way too small for her family.

Once she was happy with the feel of her
bun, she crossed through the living room to take a peek out the window. "Oooh, girl. I'll tell you what. Is that your man?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder at me. I was curious about what she was seeing, so I also crossed the living room to peek out the window. He was standing at the small charcoal grill with Trey. Both men stared down into the grill like it was rocket science instead of the warming of meat. "Oooh, look. He can cook too."

"What do you mean, he can cook? He's just standing there staring down at the grill," I said laughing.

"No honey, I can tell he know what he's doin. Trey don't let just anybody stand that close to his meat, either." Tonia moved her head slightly to get a look at something else that caught her attention. "There come Angel and Diego up the street. She's carrying something. Oh Lord, it better not be that three-milk cake… that stuff causes riots around here."

I looked, and sure enough Angel and her oldest son Diego were walking up the sidewalk. Angel was holding a covered cake pan, and I found myself hoping Tonia would be right about it being her
famous tres leches. They stopped to talk to Joel and Trey on their way up the driveway, and my heart lurched when I suddenly remembered Angel was privy to all sorts of information I didn't want her to repeat. I sprang for the door, hoping to intercept Angel before she realized who Joel was.

 

Chapter 20

Joel

 

 

I stared down at a smoking charcoal pit with the man of the house, a big guy named Trey. He had a dishtowel tossed over one shoulder, the lid of the small pit in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other. I really liked Trey. He struck me as a proud family man… a good husband and father. I thought it was a little ironic that I caught myself feeling a bit envious of something
this man
had. By the world's standards, I had it all and he had nothing.

There were three long packages on the grill, all evenly spaced and perfectly aligned. They were about the size of a brick, maybe a little bigger. I assumed they were roasts of some sort, but we'd been talking about other things, and he hadn't mentioned what was cooking. He used the tongs to pull back the foil then put down his tongs to grab a meat thermometer off the television tray that was his portable workstation. He stuck the thermometer into the center of the meat.

"You can't be too careful with pork," he said. "You gotta watch it though, cause you can't have it drying out."

I looked down at the thermometer, which stuck out of the pork loin, the end of it resting in Trey's fingers. I knew 120° wasn't hot enough. "Not quite," I said.

"Nope," he said, looking at me. "You know how to cook?"

"I like to cook, and I'm okay at it… but I'm busy at work, and I'm single, so most of the time I eat light and easy."

Trey laughed. "You can tell we don't eat light around here," he said, grabbing his belly and giving it a little shake. "I ain't always had this either. I was all-state free safety in high school."

"Football, huh? Do any of your boys play?" I asked.

"Oh, no she is not bringing that cake in my house." He looked over at me (with a straight face) and said, "Run in the house and get us a couple spoons… me and you about to eat a
whole cake
out here right now before anybody else gets to it, okay?"

It took me a second to catch on to what he was saying because the last thing I was asking was whether or not his kids played football. I followed his gaze and could see a woman and boy approaching. She carefully held a cake pan in both hands, so I began to understand the significance of what Trey had just said.

"Is that your neighbor?" I asked.

"Yeah, Angel Ramirez." They were within range to hear us talking by then. Trey looked at them with a teasing scowl. He grabbed his stomach again. "I was just talking about how I needed to get rid of the spare tire and you gonna come bringing
that
into my house."

"Don't even look at it then," the woman said, turning to put the pan halfway behind her back. She wasn't the least bit affected by Trey's reprimand. "Let your wife and your guests eat it, then… Don't blame
me
for ruining your diet."

"I'm just playing," Trey said, arms extended and hands flexing inward as if to say
come to Papa
to the cake pan. "I'll take that off your hands."

"Oh no you won't
. I'm taking it inside—"

Angel's words cut off abruptly when the front door slung open and Gretchen came out of the house nearly shrieking. I turned toward the house (we all did) to see Gretchen all but fall out the door and down the stoop to the place where we had gathered near the smoking pit. She was out of breath, but her smile perhaps more animated than I'd ever seen it. I wondered what had gotten into her.

"Hey Angel!" she said. "I didn't know you were coming!" She looked at the boy then gave him a big hug, which he returned with a huge smile on his face. She gave him a few pats on the back then looked at Angel. "Trey probably didn't introduce you guys, did he?" Gretchen looked back and forth between Angel and I with an almost panicked smile.

"Actually, Trey only got the chance to tell me he
didn't
want any of my cake before you came out. I was just about to tell him he should introduce me to his guest. I assumed he was here with you guys." Angel's eyes grew big as something dawned on her. "He's not—"

"No!" Gretchen cut
her off as if Angel was about to say something that would have really offended me. "Joel. His name is Joel, and he's a friend of mine. He's here with us to eat dinner. He was just out here with Trey. Looking at the meat. They're cooking the meat out here. So…" Gretchen gestured with an open hand to me as if I were a prize on a game show, "here's Joel. Now let's bring the cake inside, shall we."

Gretchen took the cake pan from Angel, and started back toward the house
, looking over her shoulder to make sure the lady and her son were following. Tonia, Trey's wife, was standing at the front door. She'd witnessed Gretchen's shenanigans, and was looking at Trey, perplexed.

"She saw Angel walking up, and almost busted the door down trying to get out here." She shrugged and so did Trey, but neither of them seemed too
affected by the scene, so I didn't ask any questions.

Trey and I watched that pork loin for ten more minutes before the temperature was ideal. We talked about everything from football to plastics. Trey was a bright guy, and I caught myself wondering how he'd ended up raising a family in government housing in one of the worst neighborhoods in the world. I couldn't help but think he would want to live somewhere else if he could. Angel seemed like a good person too. Wouldn't
she
want a better neighborhood for her family? I was fully aware that I had no right to say how people should live their lives, but something about their situation still had me feeling like I wanted to do what I could to help. I made a mental note to find out what their skills were in case we had a job opening at one of my plants.

Angel and Diego walked out with Gretchen just as Trey put the pork loins on the platter to take them inside. Angel came over to me with open arms, and gave me a big squeeze. I could tell the sudden show of affection surprised Gretchen because she got all smiley and animated again.

Angel took my face in her hands demanding that I looked down at her. "You take care of her," she said with an earnest, almost pleading expression. "You be good to her."

"Yes ma'am, I will. I promise," I answered. I knew she was talking about Gretchen, and I was telling the truth when I said I'd take care of her. Angel recognized that, so she let go of my face, smiled, and hugged me again before walking off.

Gretchen was stunned speechless by the exchange, but Trey was confused enough to ask, "Who's she telling you to take care of?" He looked at me with his brows furrowed in question.

"Oh my God, Tonia's going to kill you if you don't get that meat in the kitchen right this second, Trey. And, don't forget the cake." She let the word cake ring from her lips as if to dangle it in front of him like sausage on a stick. It worked. He completely forgot his question (or, maybe for her
sake, he pretended to). Either way, he took off for the house, leaving Gretchen and I alone outside.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Oh that? That was nothing. Angel just loves me, and if she thinks I'm dating someone, she gets all mother hen. She's got a flair for drama, obviously." Gretchen's tone was light, and I knew she was hoping I'd be satisfied with the vague answer. I humored her even though I wasn't quite buying what she was selling.

"So, she thinks we're
dating
?" I asked, deciding to let her off easy. Grateful that I hadn't pressed the subject, Gretchen beamed at me and reached up to put her arms around my neck.

"I guess she does," she said,
"and I didn't have the heart to tell her any different."

"I'm glad." I said, smiling back at her and bending to press a kiss to her cheek. The contact made her breath hitch. I loved that sound more than just about any other sound on Earth. She looked toward the window to make sure we weren't being watched.

"Come on. Tonia's making plates."

****

We sat anywhere we could find a spot. There was only room for four at the table, so the others found places on the living room furniture or on the floor. Gretchen and I sat on the couch along with Trey and his oldest son. Carlos sat on the recliner. The plates were overflowing with the best looking soul food I'd ever seen. The green beans had chunks of ham, and the mac and cheese had a half-inch layer of buttery cracker crumbs over the top. Gretchen mentioned that if her trainers been here, she might have been compelled to eat less, but since they were nowhere in sight, she didn't feel bad about stuffing her face.

"Shoot, somebody's hungry," Trey teased.

"Thanks for noticing, Trey. It's not my fault. You guys shouldn't cook like this if you don't want people making pigs of themselves."

"You know I'm just playing with you boo, I've been watching you fade away lately anyway, I like to see you put some food in your mouth."

"My mouth sees plenty of food," she assured him. "I've just been working out." She lifted her arm to flex her bicep, but it was just for show since she had on a long sleeve shirt.

"How much longer till you buy th
e theater Gretchen?" Cody, the youngest son, asked the question from his place on the floor. He smiled up at her.

"I'm closer every day, sweet boy. My new job's gonna get us there quick." She gave him a wink and rubbed her fingers together as like she making tons of money.

"You're buying a theater?" I asked, looking at Gretchen. Was this code for something else, or had she told this boy she wanted to save up for an
actual
theater? Neither one would surprise me at this point.

"Cody's talking about the community
theater Gretchen wants to start for kids who don’t have money to pay for stuff like that," Trey said, filling me in.

"It's something I thought of a couple years ago," she said, trying to pass it off as nothing. "It's more like a community arts center. I told the kids I'd get acting jobs to help me save up."

"Yeah, and so far, it's working," Cody chimed in. "She's on TV!" he said, showing me a toothless grin. "She makes a shit load of money at her job, and she's saving
all
of it. She ain't buying a new car or nothin'."

Trey's hand came out of nowhere and hit Cody on the back of the head. "You better watch your mouth, son, we don't talk like that in this house."

Cody gave his dad an injured look and said, "Chris is the one who told me that." His older brother, obviously guilty, strategically stared down at the food on his plate.

"Gretchen's gonna have it done before any of us ever thought she would," Trey assured his youngest son. "She'll have that theater up and going before you know it, and then you're gonna come to me whining because she's making you dress in tights and sing in front of everyone."

Cody looked at Gretchen, shocked at the mere thought. "I won't make you wear tights," she assured him. She shot a playful but fierce glare to Trey before looking back at Cody. "I can't promise I won't ask to hear your singing voice, but no tights."

I chose that hot second to say
something that changed the course of the evening. Gretchen, who up until that point was warm and funny, turned cold and awkward in an instant when I said, "Gretchen knows money is no object. If she has a project she believes in, I'd be happy to help her." I looked at Gretchen, half expecting her to throw the plate of food from her lap in her hurry to put her arms around my neck. Unfortunately, the exact opposite of that is what ended up happening.

She spent the rest of the evenin
g avoiding conversation with me. It was an easy task because someone was always talking to her or me or both. The chatter in the room was constant despite the fact that we all had our mouths full. The scene in the house was the epitome of a family holiday, and I felt thankful I'd been asked to come.
So what if I said something to offend Gretchen?
I was only trying to help. She'd just have to learn how to avoid getting her panties in a wad when I offered to help, because I wasn't going to stop. I could tell she was pissed that her cold shoulder technique wasn't affecting me the way she envisioned. I was having a great time even if she wanted to punish me for sticking my nose in her business.

"Tonia, I swear I'm kicking myself for not having time to change into sweatpants before I came
here," I said, stretching back lazily to indicate how full I was.

"Honey, you just make yourself at home. You can go on in there and put on some of Trey's pants if you want to… Lord knows you'd have plenty of room in
those
." Tonia laughed and then looked at me with warm affection like she was so happy I was pleased with the meal. Gretchen was less than thrilled with me for fitting into her world so easily.

That's not entirely true. Before my comment about helping her pay for the theater, she was fine with me fitting in, but after I said that, everything changed.

BOOK: Seeing Clearly
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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