The Littlest Boss. Janet Lee NyeЧитать онлайн книгу.
surprised a laugh out of him. “What was that?”
“Lena is trying to teach me how to gracefully accept a compliment.”
“Keep practicing,” he said. “It’ll get better. Someday it’ll just be a twinge.”
“Smart-ass.”
DeShawn sat back, grinning, as the waitress returned with their plates, piled high with pulled pork and all sorts of deliciousness. He looked at the bottles of sauce on the table and reached for the mustard-based one.
“Try a dab of the white sauce,” Sadie said as she poured a generous dollop of it on her plate before handing him the bottle. “It’s lured me away from mustard sauce.”
DeShawn made a concerned face and leaned closer. “Is it legal to not use mustard-based sauce in Charleston now?”
Sadie snort laughed and that made him laugh. Add another point to why coming home was the best decision. He and the guys used to keep score of how many times they could make Sadie snort laugh. Highest score got Friday night drinks free.
“Charleston has become very progressive in its acceptance of diverse barbecue sauces.”
He tried the white sauce—“Meh.”—and went back to his favorite one.
While they ate, he gathered the courage to speak his idea out loud. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe he needed some time. Stop feeling like a fake. How could he help others when he didn’t fully believe in himself yet?
“Hey, Sadie?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know where Henry is teaching?”
Sadie wiped her mouth with her napkin and swallowed a mouthful of pork. “Henry? My Henry?”
“Yes, your Henry,” he said with a smile.
Once a Cleaning Crew member, you were family for life. Henry had oriented DeShawn when he first joined the Crew. He’d graduated and gone off to teach a few months later.
“I don’t remember the actual school, but it’s down near Hilton Head, Beaufort, that area, but inland.”
DeShawn nodded. That sounded like Henry. Inland. Rural. “Do you have his number?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugged and felt a bit of heat on his cheeks. Saying it out loud was scarier than he’d expected. But this was Sadie. She wasn’t going to let him wiggle out of an answer. Maybe that was why he’d come to her. He fiddled with his silverware and, keeping his eyes on the table, he blurted it out. “I was thinking that maybe I could talk to kids who come from backgrounds like mine and, I don’t know, help them somehow.” He looked up at her. She had sat back in her chair and was looking at him appraisingly. He looked back down. “Never mind. It’s a stupid idea.”
“No!” she said. She looked at him directly. “I think it’s an amazing idea. What would you talk to them about?”
“Well, I haven’t gotten that far with it yet. I think I need to talk to Henry first. Find out if there’s a need. What that need is.”
Sadie was nodding. “I’m sure there is. There’s always a need.”
Sighing with relief, he sat back in the chair. Wasn’t that the truth? Always someone who needed a hand up.
Sadie pulled her phone out of her purse. “Do you remember Lena? My accountant?”
DeShawn laughed. “Remember? How could anyone forget her? She’s remarkably unforgettable.”
Sadie narrowed her eyes in a mock show of suspicion. “What are you saying about my best friend?”
Lifting his hands, palms up, DeShawn smiled. “Not saying anything. She’s a delight. Sunshine on spring flowers.”
Sadie snorted out a laugh. “Let me give you Henry and Lena’s contact information. Lena did something very similar for the kids out at the Toribio Mission. I’m sure she’d be happy to help you develop this.”
He loaded the numbers into his phone with a growing sense of excitement. He hadn’t been able to pinpoint the flat feeling he’d had the last few months. Not until this idea had begun to form. All his life, he’d been striving for a goal. Get through high school. Get through college. Get into the army. Even when he’d broken his ankle and his plans changed, it was also a goal. Get the ankle healed, rehab done, qualify for Army National Guard, and get a job. Once all that was accomplished, he’d thought he was done. But instead, he felt like everything had gone too slow, too quiet.
He needed a new goal. And he thought he might have found it. The quiver of excitement of a new project brought a grin to his lips. “So, what’s this I hear about Lena? She found a man who isn’t afraid of her? Is that actually possible?”
Sadie laughed. “Matt. Yeah. She’s goofy in love.”
“Speaking of goofy in love—when’s the wedding? Soon, right?”
“April.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s gotten out of hand.”
“That’s just you. Only thing you’d be comfortable with would be going to a UPS store and having the notary marry you on your lunch break or something.”
“See!” Sadie exclaimed, spreading her arms. “That’s exactly what I wanted. And they all act like I’m the crazy one.”
DeShawn laughed. He’d missed this. Missed the Crew. Missed Sadie. For the first time since he’d slipped off that ladder and sent his careful plans flying in the wind, he felt everything was going to be okay.
* * *
AFTER WRESTLING OVER the check and winning, DeShawn gave Sadie another hug and headed to his car. As he slid behind the wheel, his phone vibrated in his shirt pocket. He fished it out while cranking the engine to get the heat going. Charleston winters were usually mild, but a cold snap was in progress and the temperatures were dipping down into the twenties at night. He swiped left to reject an unknown call and then dropped the phone back in his pocket.
As he pulled out of the parking lot onto Savannah Highway, the phone meep-meeped, signaling a new voice message. Ignoring it, he drove to the little apartment he called home for now. He didn’t need much. A bedroom. A kitchen. Charleston real estate was crazy expensive right now, so his plan was to live as cheaply as possible, pay off his student loans and start building his meager savings. He hoped to buy a condominium after the loans were paid off. If his car held up that long. Start to put down some roots. Build a life here.
Once home, he changed out of his work clothes into a pair of Deadpool sweat pants and an Iron Man T-shirt. Hey, he liked Marvel Comics. Time to kick back and relax. See what’s new on Hulu. But first he had to make sure that unknown call wasn’t work related. He was sure he had everyone properly identified in his phone, but didn’t want to take a chance.
He hit the voice mail number and put the phone on speaker. He had one new message. There was a brief pause. He was just about to delete it, thinking it was a robocall, when a hesitant female voice began to speak.
“DeShawn? This is your mother. Denise? I know we’ve had our troubles but I’ve been clean and sober for three months now. I’d like to talk to you. If you want. Okay? Just...uh...call me back? If you want.”
He stared at the phone as it went through its beeps and prompts. Save this message? Delete? He hit Delete with a shock-numbed finger and let the phone slip from his hand. His mother. Damn. The stunned feeling began to wear off and he slowly became aware of a simmering anger building in his chest. Not now. Not when he was finally settled. Not when he’d finally crawled out of that whole situation. He’d washed his hands of his family after his grandmother, Momma G, had passed away. She had raised him, had done as right as she could by him.
But the memories he still had of the times when he had been with his parents, the memories of his parents showing up at all