“How did you sleep last night?” Daddy asked me the next morning when I descended the stairs.
“Like a log,” I responded, since I didn’t remember much about it. All I knew was that I woke up and felt like I was still exhausted. Generally that only happened to me when I had slept too well.
He grinned. “Good. The country air at night does wonders.”
“Yes, it does. I kept my windows open.” I noticed the sun beaming through the panes of the front door and added, “Now the country heat during the day is another matter.”
We both laughed.
“I don’t have much to cook for breakfast. I could go into town and pick up something.”
I leaned on the banister. “Do they have a decent restaurant around here? I’d love to treat you and Flower to breakfast.”
“We don’t have any fancy restaurants, but we do have a pretty good diner.”
“Sounds good to me. Food is food, whether it’s served on china or a paper plate. Remember when you used to always tell Momma that?”
He nodded. “I’m amazed you remember.”
“I remember everything.”
He picked up a hairbrush off the entry table and brushed his hair back. Then he unplugged his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket.
“Flower just got out the bathtub and she’s getting dressed,” he said. “We should be ready to go in about fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting on the front porch. I’ve grown fond of that swing. I always wished we had one when I was a child.”
“Really?” He looked at me in bewilderment. “You never told me that.”
I cringed with my back to him as I went out the door. There was so much I had never told him.
“So Flower, what’s your favorite subject in school?” I asked her after we were seated and eating at The Golden Spoon; the first place I had seen fully integrated with all races since I’d hit town. Good food was good food. All of the waitresses were white but I knew who was in the kitchen.
Flower’s bright eyes looked up at me. “Hmm, I guess it would be math, but I’m not sure yet. I’m only in the first grade.”
She was seated beside me in the booth and I admired the great rush job I had done on her hair. “Yeah, well, you have plenty of time to decide,” I said, patting her on the shoulder.
“Thanks for doing my hair again.”
“You’re so very welcome.”
Daddy was quiet. I guess he was just enjoying his two children interacting with each other.
Flower said, “I like music.”
“Is that so? Do you play any instruments?” I asked.
“No, but I want to learn how to play the piano.”
“What a coincidence. I played the piano when I was a little girl.”
“You did?” she asked with disbelief, like she was the only child in America who had ever wanted to play it.
I thought back to how much I had enjoyed taking lessons from one of our neighbors, Mrs. Duncan, a couple of blocks over. Then Robert, the boy who lived next door to her, teased me something horrible one day and I never went back. My mother insisted that I continue, but I just couldn’t. My nerves were shot.
Daddy’s expression told me that he was remembering the incident also.
“Yes, but I didn’t keep up with it,” I said to Flower. “Promise me that once you start taking lessons, you’ll never stop.”
“I promise.”
“Good girl.”
Daddy finally interjected. “I’ll find someone to teach you this week. Okay, sweetie?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Daddy took pride in introducing me to the numerous people he knew at the diner. Some of them eyed me suspiciously, like I was probably a younger lover he was trying to pass off as his daughter since the age difference was totally inappropriate.
One lady, Mrs. Mabeline Harris, spent almost ten minutes standing beside our table filling Daddy in on the latest town gossip. All I could do was be grateful I didn’t live in a small town and have to deal with people constantly in my business. Not that I had any exciting business to talk about.
My stack of buttermilk pancakes and turkey sausage were delicious. I could get used to country cooking; although we did have the chicken and waffle place owned by Gladys Knight and Ron Winan back in Atlanta.
Flower grew visibly excited when she spotted two little girls going down the sidewalk on scooters. “Daddy, there’s Susan and Becky,” she said, pointing out the window. “Can I go play with them?”
“What about the rest of your food?” Daddy asked, gesturing toward Flower’s plate of silver dollar pancakes and bacon.
“I’m full,” she announced and started rubbing her belly.
Daddy and I both chuckled because we knew she was lying. Her sudden loss of appetite could only be contributed to a better proposition: hanging out with friends.
“Okay,” he said. “But you make sure you stay within sight.”
“I will, Daddy.”
Once Flower was outside playing with her friends, I said, “Tell me more about her mother. Allison, right?”
“Yes. Like I said, she’s just a friend. She was widowed a while back and it depressed her to the point that she was suicidal. That made two of us so we comforted each other to prevent the inevitable.”
“Daddy, you wouldn’t really kill yourself?”
“At one point, I seriously considered it. I’d lost everything that ever mattered to me, all based on the lies of one slut that I wish I could get my hands on for five seconds.”
I didn’t want to rehash that incident so I changed the topic. “How do you like living in the country? It’s a big change from the city.”
He shrugged. “I grew up here so it was just a matter of becoming reacclimated to the environment.”
“And you have?”
“Well, now that I have Flower, I could never leave.” He pushed his plate away and folded his hands in front of him. “I already deserted one daughter. I won’t desert another one.” There was a pregnant pause before he added, “Jonquinette, why did you really come here?”
I took my paper napkin and patted my eyes, fighting back tears. “Because I need your help, Daddy.”
He stood up, put some money on the table and reached for my hand. “Let’s go.”
I started fumbling through my purse. “No, I said it was my treat.”
“Jonquinette Pierce,” he said with authority. “After all these years, the least thing you can allow a man to do is purchase a meal for his daughter. I do have some pride left.”
I forced a smile. “I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t afford it, Daddy.”
“I know. Let’s just go.”
Flower wasn’t ready to leave so Daddy asked a mother of one of the other girls if she could stay and play. She agreed and said she would drop Flower off at home later that evening on the way to Bingo Night at the union hall.
When we got back to Daddy’s house, I was cheerful but dreading to be alone with him at last. There was so much to say and no place to begin.
Once we were seated across from each other at his dining-room table with two glasses of orange juice, he asked me, “This is about the
“Yes,” I whispered.
“They’re still occurring?”
“Yes, but they’ve gotten worse.”
He took a deep breath and clamped his eyes shut. “How so?”
