kitchen bellowed, 'Hey, Daisy, you leave off kissin' the customers so's they can order catfish, you hear?'
Everyone at the bar laughed, and Daisy slowly raised her head, cocked a wrist on one hip, and toyed with the hair above Tommy Lee's ear. Her eyes appeared hooded and sultry as she looked down into his smiling face and drawled, 'We want him to come back, now, don't we?'
Rachel was horrified. Never in her life had she seen a white man kiss a black woman, yet Tommy Lee did it with obvious relish.
When Daisy finally disengaged herself, he 179 belatedly reminded her, 'I've got a lady with me tonight, Daisy. Meet Rachel.'
Daisy turned laconically, still with one hand on her hip, the other cocked at the wrist. 'Don't pay no never- mind to me, honey. I been kissin' your man since before there was catfish in that creek outside. He's like a son to me.'
Tommy Lee gave her a nudge and ordered, 'Get out of here, Daisy, and bring us two orders of the usual, and a glass of lime water for the lady.'
'Lime water! What you think we runnin' here, a fruit stand?'
'Just ice water then. Now, scat.'
She turned away with a chuckle and sauntered off while Rachel watched her bulging backside wriggle in tight cerise pants. When her eyes returned to Tommy Lee, she found him smirking at her.
'Just like a son, huh?' she repeated dryly, cocking an eyebrow.
'That's right.'
Rachel pulled a hard paper napkin from a metal dispenser, held it between two fingers, and
cocked her wrist while handing it to him. 'I think you'd better wipe that shiny purple lipstick off… son. We wouldn't want it to get in your food and poison you.'
Tommy Lee laughed while rubbing the garish lipstick off his mouth. 'Don't think anything of Daisy. She's Big Sam's wife-that was him hollering through the porthole from the kitchen.'
'His wife!' Rachel was shocked at the familiarity the woman had just displayed under her husband's nose.
'She kisses all the customers that way. And every time she does, Big Sam hollers through the kitchen window, and everybody at the bar laughs on cue. That's how it is out here. We're all friends.'
But Rachel couldn't help harboring reservations about his choice of friends.
During their wait for the meal, Tommy Lee had two drinks, then another while they ate. The food was exceptional, and served in such sumptuous portions that Rachel barely put a dent in hers. Tommy Lee eyed her plate and asked, 'You all done?' At her nod he inquired, 'Mind if I clean up the rest?'
While he did, she thought about his 181 eating habits, probably fasting all day, living on alcohol and ice, then feeding on fatty foods in periodic spurts of excess. It was no wonder his physique had suffered. After some consideration she asked, 'When was the last time you ate a decent meal?'
He glanced from his plate to her and back again.
'Oh, I didn't mean including this one,' she said. 'It's delicious, really. I just have a feeling your diet is rather slapdash.'
He only shrugged, wiped his mouth, and lifted his eyes to find her studying him contemplatively. 'You don't like it here, do you?'
'Oh, the food was wonderful!' she replied brightly, but coloring.
'You don't have to say it. I know what you're thinking. But I wanted you to know where I've been, who my friends are… no secrets.'
'Why?'
'Just so you'll know. I find people like these far more genuine than the bigots in town.' He tossed his napkin onto his plate. 'The country club set -you can have 'em.'
Just then a small black boy bounded up to the
table and flung himself across Tommy Lee's lap. He looked to be no more than seven years old, had a front tooth missing, and wore a stretched-out T-shirt with a picture of Darth Vader on the back.
'Hey, Tommy Lee, Tommy Lee, where you been, huh? Been savin' them rocks like you said to, so you'n me can show Darla she ain't so hot! Got a-a-a-little these.' He dumped a double fistful of rocks on the tabletop. 'See? They just as flat as pee on a plate.'
Tommy Lee's face lit up with laughter, ending with a grin as he gently scolded the youngster, 'Hey, hey, mustn't talk like that around a lady.' He roughed the child's hair and asked, 'Where have you been hiding?'
'Mama, she wouldn't let me come out till you was done eatin'.was The boy reached up to loop an elbow around Tommy Lee's neck. 'You reckon we can make eleven?' He beamed into the man's face with excitement and obvious hero worship.
With one arm coiled around the little boy's waist, Tommy Lee looked across at Rachel and explained, 'Darrel and I are trying to find the
perfect stone that'll skip eleven times. 183 So far the best we've done is nine. But his sister, Darla, claims she's done ten.'
'She ain't done no ten-I know she ain't! She lyin!' spouted Darrel. 'And besides, lookit these what I found.'
Tommy Lee sifted through the collection of prize stones, nudging them around the table while his dark wavy head bent near the much smaller one of black close-cropped curls. 'Whoa! This one looks like a prize!' Tommy Lee held it aloft.
'Can we go out and try it now?'
Tommy Lee smiled down at the boy. 'Reckon it's too dark to see tonight.'
'You come back on Sunday? Then we c'n show Darla? Please, Tommy Lee?'
'Today's Sunday,' he reminded the child.
'But I mean next Sunday, like we used to. And you can stay for dinner after church and we can all play ball and-was
'Come to think of it, I do have next Sunday free. You tell Darla she'd better be ready to put her money where her mouth is.' He affectionately swatted the boy's backside and
watched him barrel off toward the kitchen. 'He's Sam and Daisy's boy. A bundle of dynamite.' At last he dragged his eyes back to Rachel, who wore a slightly amazed expression. 'Something wrong, Rachel?'
'No…' Rachel sat up straighter. 'No.' But after adding it all up she queried, 'You come out here and go to church with them on Sundays?'
He deliberated silently for some time and finally answered, 'Sometimes. They've got a nice little white clapboard church out in the pines about a mile from here. Well, you know what those little Baptist country churches are like. Peaceful. I prefer it to the brick one downtown.'
She studied him silently for a while. Then it all came clear.
'Your surrogate family, Tommy Lee?' she questioned softly.
He reached for a cigarette, took some time to light it and blow out a cloud of smoke, then studied her thoughtfully before answering, 'I guess you might say that.'
Rachel's heart wrenched with pity. He had children of his own; yet he came out here to play ball and
skip pebbles. He had a church of his 185 own; yet he came out here to attend theirs. He had parents of his own; yet he shunned them, though it obviously cost him much to do so. She pictured Gaines and Lily Gentry. Did they long for their son while he gave his affection to a black family who ran a catfish restaurant by Bear Creek? How terribly they all must be hurting. Suddenly she wanted that hurt mended, for everyone's sake.
'Tommy Lee, why don't you go see your mama and daddy?'
He carefully ironed all expression from his face and snorted through his nose.
'They're getting old,' she reminded him. 'If I can forgive, why can't you?'
But again they were interrupted. 'Beg pardon, ma'am.' It was Big Sam, standing beside their table with four green bills in his hand. 'Tommy Lee, got the next installment for you on that loan.' He proudly peeled off and laid down four five-dollar bills, counting carefully. 'Five, ten, fifteen, twenty dollars.' He beamed at Tommy Lee. 'You write that in your book like always?'
'You bet, Sam. And how's the dishwasher running?'
'Runnin' slick as a skinned eel, Tommy Lee. And Daisy, she comes around snugglin' the end of a hot day like
