Chapter Twelve
Maci
When I got home, sweat stuck to the back of my neck and my running shoes were dusty from the Lemon Grove trails. I hadn’t meant to run that far.
The afternoon sun made it feel warmer than it really was, and the day seemed to slow down. I took off my shoes by the mudroom bench and stretched my sore calves.
"I'm home."
Bernice called out from the kitchen.
"Back already."
I laughed.
"Hello to you too."
As I walked into the kitchen, I smelled browned onions, garlic, and fresh herbs in the air.
Bernice stood at the stove in her floral apron, holding a wooden spoon and reaching for a skillet. Chopped vegetables sat in glass bowls on the counter.
Thick pork chops rested beside fresh thyme and minced garlic, seasoned so well that my stomach growled before I could even shower.
"You started dinner already?"
She glanced back at me.
"Dinner doesn't cook itself."
"It's barely three."
"And I plan to be home by five."
I couldn’t help but grin.
"You're serious."
"Serious as a heart attack. I’ve been this way since before you started running through here, acting like you’re training for the Olympics."
"I was only gone forty-five minutes."
"You were gone long enough."
She aimed the wooden spoon in my direction.
"Sit down somewhere before you fall out."
I laughed and dropped onto one of the barstools at the big kitchen island.
"I feel fine."
"Mmhmm."
Bernice didn’t believe me for a second. She kept stirring the onions until they softened, then tossed in the garlic.
The kitchen quickly filled with the smell of onions, and I completely forgot about the smoothie I had planned to make after my run.
"I hope Zaire's hungry."
Bernice smiled with pride.
"Smothered pork chops." She nodded at the greens soaking in the sink. "Collards."
She nodded toward the pan covered in foil by the stove.
"And cornbread."
"You trying to steal my husband, Ms. Bernice?"
"I'm trying to remind that man why he keeps coming home."
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled the water bottle I had just opened. She only shrugged.
"A man who kisses the cook before he kisses his wife after work deserves a good dinner."
I gave her a puzzled look.
"He does what?"
"You heard me."
"He says hello to big mama first."
"Barely." She smirked. "Then he comes looking for whatever's on the stove."
I just shook my head.
"I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, Bernice."
"You do that."
She placed the pork chops into the hot skillet.
"He'll still ask me what's for dinner."
The room filled with the sound of sizzling. The doorbell rang through the house. Bernice paused, smiled to herself, and wiped her hands on a dish towel.
"That'll be Evelyn."
I glanced toward the foyer.
"You were expecting Miss Evelyn?"
"Yes, that's my dear friend."
Bernice laughed and slipped around the corner before I could ask anything else. A moment later, I heard the front door open.
"There you are," Bernice said warmly.
"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten bout your girl."
Miss Evelyn laughed and walked in, carrying her purse and wearing that familiar, easy smile she had perfected over the years.
The two women hugged as if they were family. I frowned.
"I didn't know y'all were that close."
Bernice gave me a look, like I had just asked if the sky was blue.
"Close?"
She laughed.
"This woman has known me since I wore pigtails."
Miss Evelyn smiled.
"And she was just as bossy back then."
Bernice rolled her eyes. The two of them laughed again.
Watching them together felt like seeing two sisters continue a conversation that had never really ended.
Bernice poured Evelyn a glass of sweet tea. Miss Evelyn took it and sat down on one of the barstools.
"I swear," Bernice said, "you've got a sixth sense."
"For what?"
"For showing up when somebody's cooking."
Miss Evelyn laughed.
"I've been following the smell of your food for thirty years."
"Forty."
"Don't age me."
Bernice slid a bowl of sliced tomatoes across the counter.
"You already there."
The two women laughed, as if they had shared that joke a hundred times. I leaned on the counter and smiled, watching them.
"I feel like I'm missing about fifty years of inside jokes."
"You are," Miss Evelyn said. Bernice shook her head.
"Half our stories aren't fit for company."
"They're perfectly fit."
"They're absolutely not."
Miss Evelyn reached over and stole a slice of tomato.
"I remember when this whole street wasn't nothing but open land." Bernice nodded.
"There wasn't a single house over here."
"Just dirt."
"My daddy used to say you could bury almost anything in this soil and it'd find a way to grow."
Miss Evelyn's smile lingered.
"He wasn't wrong."
The room grew quiet. Sometimes I think Miss Evelyn talks in code. I wonder what she’s waiting for. She always seems to know something but keeps it to herself, waiting for the right moment.
The doorbell rang. We all turned to look at the foyer. Bernice frowned.
"Now who could that be?"
Before anyone could move, there was a loud knock, then another. I walked to the front door and opened it.
Simone was on the porch, looking flustered.
"Maci."
"What happened?"
"You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
Simone looked over her shoulder at the street.
"A florist just delivered the biggest arrangement I've ever seen to Camille's house."
I blinked, surprised.
"So?"
"So," she said more quietly. "There was another card."
My heart stayed calm.
"What did it say?"
"I don't know the exact words."
She shook her head slowly.
"But whatever it said, it scared her."
Bernice and Miss Evelyn came to stand with us at the door.
"What do you mean scared her?" Bernice asked.
"I've never seen Camille like that."
Simone crossed her arms.
"She opened the card and all the color left her face."
"Did somebody threaten her?" Miss Evelyn asked.
"I don't know."
"She wouldn't let anybody read it."
"She folded it up so fast."
Simone looked at each of us one by one.
"Then she called everybody over."
"Everybody?"
She nodded.
"Said it was important."
I looked over at Camille’s house. From my porch, I noticed some movement. A few of the ladies were already crossing the street.
Miss Evelyn set her glass on the porch railing. "Well." She straightened the front of her blouse. "I suppose we'd better see what's going on."
The four of us walked across the street together.
When we arrived at Camille's house, we gathered in the foyer. Camille stood in the middle, holding onto the console table as if she needed it to stay upright.
The bouquet rested next to her. There were white lilies, yellow roses, and fresh lemon branches tucked among the flowers. Whoever sent it clearly spent a lot.
“You okay?” Danielle asked, stepping closer.
Camille blinked, like she had forgotten we were all there.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Nia said softly.
“I just wasn’t expecting something like this.”
Simone looked over at the flowers.
“Who sent it?”
“I don’t know.”
“The card?”
Camille paused.
“It wasn’t signed.”
Miss Evelyn looked at the flowers, then at Camille.
“What did it say?”
This was the first time since we arrived that Camille seemed uneasy.
“It was probably just somebody trying to get under my skin.”
“Camille,” Danielle reached for her hand. “What did the card say?”
Everyone waited. Finally, Camille let out a breath.
“It said…”
She swallowed. “Your friends don’t even know the real you.”
The women looked at each other, confused.
“And what else?”
Her voice got so quiet it was almost a whisper.
“Sometimes neither do you.”
No one said anything. Simone frowned.
“That’s strange.”
“It doesn’t even make sense,” Nia added.
“It sounds like somebody playing mind games,” Danielle said.
Bernice folded her arms.
“People can be cruel.”
I kept my eyes on Camille, not the flowers. She didn’t look at any of us. Instead, she stared at the spot where the card had been, like she was reading it again.
Miss Evelyn broke the silence.
“Chile, something is hanging over your head, and somebody is purposely doing these things?”
Camille tried to smile, but it was obvious she didn’t really feel it.
“I’ve just had enough excitement this week.”
Danielle slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“Then maybe let us help.”
“You don’t have to do this by yourself.”
Camille nodded, but her expression was still distant.
“I appreciate that.”
Nia looked around the room.
“Maybe we should call the police.”
“No, not this time.” Camille’s voice came out sharper than she intended. Everyone looked at her, so she quickly tried to soften her tone.
"I mean," she said, clearing her throat. "What would I even say to them? That I got flowers?"
“A creepy card duh,” Simone corrected.
“They’ll probably say it’s another prank.”
Bernice wasn’t convinced.
“After everything that’s happened, I’d still report it.”
Simone tilted her head.
“Can’t you ask the delivery service who sent them?”
Nia nodded.
“Yeah, they should have that information.”
Danielle agreed.
“That’s the first thing I’d do.”
A few others nodded in quiet agreement. Camille paused again.
“I already called.”
Everyone looked at her.
“And?”
“They said they couldn’t release that information.”
Tension filled the room. Bernice frowned.
“That doesn’t sound right.”
“It’s probably a privacy policy,” Simone said, though she didn’t sound convinced.
Camille rubbed her temples.
“I don’t want any more police cars parked outside my house. I just want things to go back to normal.”
Normal. If any of us could even remember what that felt like.
Camille glanced toward the front windows.
“I’ve been thinking.”
No one interrupted.
“We should start looking out for each other more.”
Heads nodded.
“I mean really looking out for each other.”
She stepped further into the room, and her voice grew more confident.
“We all have cameras now.”
“What if we shared footage whenever something happens?”
Simone nodded.
“That makes sense.”
“And maybe,” Camille continued, “we could start a neighborhood watch.”
Bernice smiled.
“I’d volunteer.”
“So would I,” Danielle added.
Nia agreed.
Within minutes, nearly every woman in the room offered to help. Camille let her shoulders relax, and for the first time that afternoon, the tension faded.
“Thank you, I just…” She looked around the room. “I don’t want anyone else to feel unsafe.”
I raised my hand slightly.
“I’ll volunteer too.”
She looked at me, and a grateful smile appeared on her face.
“I knew you would.”
We shared a moment. She knew I was by her side, helping her keep the neighborhood together.