Chapter Thirty-Five
Thirty-Five
Jamilah was glad for prep as an outlet. Instead of using the food processor, she chopped veggies by hand.
Took her frustration out on carrots, onions, and potatoes.
She was nervous about what Mr. Turner had said, terrified to know what her dad might be hiding about his father.
He’d kept whatever it was to himself for thirty years. Surely it couldn’t be good.
It took the whole of lunch service for Jamilah to come around and admit that Rashad was right.
Whatever had happened with her grandfather was a part of her lineage.
Good or bad, she needed to know. Once the dining room slowed down and they’d gotten through most of the prep for the dinner crowd, Jamilah texted James.
Met Mr. Thomas Turner today. He says he grew up with you and to ask about my grandfather. Has me curious. When you get a minute, please call. Xoxo
For the rest of the day and most of Friday, conversation was cool between Rashad and Jamilah.
She didn’t invite him over, and he didn’t invite himself.
At work, each spoke when spoken to, but mostly only when necessary.
It didn’t help that her dad hadn’t responded to her text nor to the phone call she’d placed last evening.
Fortunately, Ed kept up a senseless banter, but by Friday afternoon even he noticed something amiss.
“Lover’s quarrel?” he asked Jamilah when it was just the two of them in the kitchen together. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell your Daddy. But even Stevie Wonder can see the two of y’all are a pair.”
Ed’s words prompted Jamilah to change her perspective and think about the potential development in her family from Rashad’s point of view.
What if he were right and her father was hiding something nefarious that had happened in their family?
And whatever that was had influenced his decision to enter law enforcement?
How would that affect how Jamilah viewed her father, and even more, how would it potentially explain his disdain for Rashad?
Friday night after closing, she took baby steps over the bridge of reconciliation. “I took Mr. Turner’s advice and asked about my grandfather.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Jamilah nodded. “He hasn’t answered yet.”
“Interesting.”
“He’s been very busy,” she countered. “I know at least one case he’s very involved in, and there are probably others.”
Rashad made small talk with Caylen who’d finished cleanup, then reached for his notebook. “See you tomorrow, Jamilah,” he said, also on his way out.
“You want to come over?”
“Yeah, but Tyson is going to be here before we know it. I’ve got work to do.”
Jamilah and Rashad left in separate cars.
She was tired but didn’t feel like going straight to her empty condo.
After driving around the block, her eyes fell on the Blue Room, where she’d occasionally gone to listen to jazz with her dad.
She’d never gone there solo, but sitting at the bar for one drink didn’t sound so bad.
Maybe she’d run into a friend or—who knew? —maybe even her father.
After getting a glass of cabernet, she turned her attention to the jam session happening on stage.
The musicians were respectable but felt nothing like the music of Ida McBeth’s era or even further back to this intersection’s heyday.
She could only imagine how it would have been to see Charlie Parker blowing his sax in Jay McShan’s band.
Or witness a lesson in jazz by Bennie Moten, who her dad said taught Count Basie.
Or get an earful of the blues shouting Big Joe Turner.
Or hear Duke Ellington telling the audience to take the A train.
Still, she enjoyed being out more than she realized and made small talk with the people nearby. She’d almost finished her wine and was considering another when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She turned around with a smile, half expecting to see her father. It wasn’t him. The smile dimmed.
“Walter. Hi.”
“Fancy seeing you here,” he said good-naturedly, as though they were old buddies. He looked around. “You with James?”
“Nope, just me.”
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone on a Friday night?”
Even though the comment made her feel a tad uncomfortable, Jamilah managed a smile. “I just got off work and decided to unwind with a glass of wine. Actually,” she said and drained the glass, “I was just leaving.”
“Jamilah, wait.”
Jamilah looked pointedly at the hand he’d placed on her arm. He removed it slowly.
“It’s good to see you.”
“Where’s your fiancée?”
“Out of town. One of her sorority sisters is getting married.”
“And you’re not with her?”
“Heavy workload. Couldn’t be helped. In fact, something came across my desk involving Side Chic’k possibly working with young women in the system. Some type of rehabilitation program?”
“The idea is in its infancy, but yes, we want to offer young people coming out of jail a safe place to make an income.”
“We?”
Jamilah realized too late the door she had opened. Didn’t mean she couldn’t keep the chain latched.
“There are a few businesses with similar goals.”
Walter eyed her intently. “I never knew you to be interested in social change.”
“I wasn’t, until I was.” She slipped off the barstool and adjusted her purse strap. “Take care of yourself. Congratulations on your engagement.”
“I thought you could do better than selling food for a living. But the law is demanding, and being a civil servant can be taxing. Sometimes I miss the easy life of kicking back with a good piece of chicken.”
“Good-bye, Walter.”
“Tell James I said hello. And if you ever need anything, call me.”
Driving home, Jamilah played the comparison card. Couldn’t help it. Walter and Rashad couldn’t be more different. Being reminded of the type of man she’d left behind made her uber aware of the one that she had.
The next morning, she arrived at work and walked straight over to Rashad. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“My attitude after meeting with Mr. Turner. Getting angry at you for your accurate assessment of me not wanting to face what sounds like a sketchy family past. Forgive me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Jamilah almost missed his lip’s slight upturn, starting the journey on the way to a smile. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. The second customer who came through the door that Saturday was the woman from the dating website. The last person either of them wanted to see.