The Caterer

Chapter 11

D ELANY SAT ON THE BED. His sister stood before the mirror, her maid-of-honor helping to zip up her sleeveless dress. It hit just above her chest, straight cut, with a ruffle at her knee and almost no train. Olive swayed and beamed. How was his little sister getting married? The entire thing didn’t seem real. Most days he still thought of her as a levelheaded teenager with her head in the books, ready to change the world like their mom did. She’d graduated from Howard Law a decade before, been making a name for herself doing immigration law. She never dated, as far as Delany knew, yet when she met Zed, something changed. He did family law for lower income families, treated his sister like a queen. Delany had no reservations.

Everyone knew he and Olive were Coretta Clare’s children from their coarse black hair and dark eyes. Olive’s face was long like their mother, but she got her wider nose and fuller lips from her dad. She was petite like her dad, who was smaller in stature from the little Delany remembered about him. Delany’s father had never been in the picture. Delany was four when Olive was born. His mother said she wore newborn clothes for six months whereas Delany, based on his length, was almost too big for them from the beginning. Once her father left, it had always been the three of them.

His mother came in with Helene, who smiled when she saw him and ran toward him, her off-white dress flowing behind her.

“Be careful,” his mother said. “You have to stay perfect for the wedding.”

“It’s okay, Mama.” He collected his six-year-old daughter and stood. “I got her.”

His mother scoffed playfully and asked Olive how she was doing. At sixty-two, Coretta looked like she was in her forties. Her cropped hair accented her long face, bringing out defined cheekbones. She had a wide smile and a kindness to her dark eyes.

Delany slipped out of the room with Helene and walked to the bottom floor. Through the full wall of windows, he watched his soon to be brothers-in-law put the final touches on the arch by the water, a hundred chairs set up to face it.

Helene rested her head on his shoulder. He had her for the last week while her mother went on some trip Delany did not ask about. Fortunately, the dates overlapped with the wedding. It would be nice not to have Nadia included in the memory, who would have guilted his sister into inviting her. Their mother would tell her kids they were being petty, to think of Helene or the families where the parents hated each other. Remember how hard that was on the children?

He remembered. And he didn’t hate Nadia, how could he? But he could not say he entirely agreed with her decisions. It made sense she was Helene’s primary custodian while he was playing and gone so much, but now? He tried to figure out how to chance the conversation. Nadia could jump to conclusions, and a simple question would be taken as his trying to steal their daughter. He wasn’t trying to steal anything, but he could give Helene a better education and a more stable home. Nadia always bemoaned the things having to care for their daughter did not let her do. But somehow offering to let her recreate her twenties in her mid-thirties would not be seen as giving Nadia the freedom she hinted at.

None of that was for today. He told himself to forget the fight when he picked up Helene the weekend before. One saving grace in all of this was they were never married. He couldn’t imagine adding alimony on top of what he paid in child support.

The side door opened, Delany glancing over his shoulder. Alice carried in a box of supplies. She wore a looser cut, floral print minidress, her hair styled into a messy bob. The mother of the groom showed her where everything was and what she could use before they went over the schedule one more time.

“Dad, you’re staring,” Helene said. Delany turned back and asked if she wanted to see the water. They went outside and walked down the pier, staying until the four-piece orchestra started to play. He found his sister alone in the bedroom.

“Where’s Mama?” He motioned for Helene to come over, so he could add bows to her thick braids. Most days her black hair was pulled into twin buns. She had his dark eyes, her mother’s square face and thin lips. She smiled more than Nadia did, seeming to not have inherited her mother’s serious disposition. She could find something in any situation to laugh about, her curiosity helping him see things he’d otherwise miss.

“Chatting with Zed’s mom. You okay?” she asked.

Delany looked at Helene and rolled his eyes. His sister nodded and looked at the mirror again.

Olive’s dad left when she was only two. Delany’s dad had never been there. Their mother raised two kids while working at legal aid in Anacostia. They went to church every Sunday. His upbringing showed him the importance of community and staying connected, giving back. Delany knew people expected him to make the neighborhood better. No way he was going to make it big and forget where he came from. Coretta taught him to treat people right, help where he could, and never forget those who shaped him.

His mother ducked her head in. It was time. Delany walked with Helene down the stairs, Coretta helping Olive with her dress. At the base of the stairs, his mother kissed Olive’s cheek and went to walk down the aisle with one of the groomsmen. Delany asked Helene if she remembered what he told her. She nodded and started down the aisle, dropping rose petals as she went. Alice watched the processional from the kitchen, her arm on the counter, a sadness to her features. His sister pulled his arm, and he took a step with her.

The service went by with Delany watching the water. His mother slipped her arm through his, tears on her cheek. Everything she sacrificed for her kids, and yet could never find love herself. He wanted to ask what was happening with the head of the community center. They’d been each other’s late-night call for decades. He heard the man’s voice in high school, a creak on the stairs. To ask would be admitting he knew what was happening, but it wasn’t that hard to see how they looked at each other. He never understood why his mother refused to let herself be happy, to trust someone else again.

Olive leaned in to kiss her husband, the crowd cheering. They faced those assembled, the local band Zed hired starting to play “If I Ain’t Got You.” Delany stood with everyone else, unsure what to make of his mood.

While the guests mingled and the brothers brought out tables for the guests to sit at, Alice and Valencia worked to get food into the buffet pieces. Delany took another drink of his beer as Helene ran around with the other kids. His mother sat with the groom’s parents, their laughs filling the day. A slight breeze filtered through, aided by just enough clouds to break the heat .

Bobbie took a drink back to Carrie, her gaze locked on Alice. Bobbie said something, and she pulled her gaze, smiling politely.

When Alice slipped in during the Macon event to speak with Katy, Delany guessed what they were discussing. He asked for the check as a reason to talk to her again. He hoped to catch her before she left, to thank her again, to ask what changed. Then he came around the corner and saw the tautness of her body, the aggression in her eyes, and approached slowly, not wanting the women to hear him. At least now the change in Alice’s attitude made sense. He hid himself until Carrie passed him and let Alice leave. On Monday, he asked Bobbie again if he tried to tell Tabby about the acquisition.

“Come on, Bulldog, you know I wouldn’t lie to you!” Delany had to believe him. Realizing he still had the check, he asked Katy where the food truck parked and went to get lunch. Her coworker was hilarious. He decided to be bold and asked if Alice was dating anyone. She told him Alice enjoyed their date but had a chip on her shoulder. Maybe that was why she looked so sad earlier.

Bobbie stopped next to him, taking a drink of his beer.

“Come sit with us.” He motioned toward the table he was at with Carrie and some of the guys he still talked to from Anacostia. “Carrie has a friend for you to meet.”

“Oh yeah?” He studied the blond playfully sparring with the one of the men at the table, the others eyeing her low-cut dress. She shifted her torso to give them a better view. “I don’t know if she’s my type.” He rested his elbow on the top of Bobbie’s head, his best friend swatting him away. It drove Bobbie crazy, which was why he did it. They were opposite in so many ways—tall and short, thin and well, not. Delany wanted to hang out with a few friends where Bobbie loved a crowd. He went for girls with natural beauty, whereas Bobbie believed being hot was all that mattered.

“Nah, come on, Bulldog. If her friend is anything like her, she’ll be a freak in the sheets. Trust me on this.” He gave him a playful smile. If he hadn’t known Bobbie since he sounded like he belonged in the Jackson Five, his attitude might bother him. But he knew where Bobbie came from, knew his father and the shoes Bobbie was desperate to fill. It was his job to keep Bobbie humble. Without him, Bobbie would likely buy into his own hype.

“Are you sure you know how to keep her happy?”

Bobbie’s eyes went wide, as he looked ready to hit him. Delany started to laugh. It was far too easy to rile Bobbie up. “At least I’m not afraid of women.”

“Discretion, Bobbie. It’s called discretion.”

“Whatever.” He took another drink. “So, I’m going to tell Carrie we’re on for next week.”

“Sure.” He did a look around the yard, not seeing Helene. “Let me know when.” He left Bobbie standing there, unsure what happened to his daughter. She sat inside on the kitchen counter talking to Alice with an empty spoon in her hand and her eyes closed. Alice saw Delany and gave him a closed mouth smile. Helene tapped her tongue like she did when she was trying to identify a flavor.

“Is it lime?” Helene opened her eyes.

“Yes,” Alice said.

“And coriander?”

“Wow, you have a better palate than some chefs I’ve worked under.”

“I’ve never heard of Cuban tabbouli, but I like it.” Helene handed Alice the spoon and jumped off the counter.

“Then maybe we’ll keep it on the menu.” Alice said with no hint of sarcasm. “I hope that’s okay.” Alice slid her hands down her back. Seeming to realize there were no pockets she started to cross her arms, but then settled for slipping them into her purple apron.

“I thought you all wore white coats.” Delany tried to hide his smile .

“Old stuffy men wear white coats. We get to bring some distinction to the role.” She looked at Helene. “She said you took her on a cooking tour in France.”

“That’s when I wanted to go to Le Cordon Bleu.” Helene slipped her hand into his.

“That is a very lofty school.”

“Where did you go?”

“GW.”

“They have a culinary program?” Delany asked.

Alice rested her arm on the counter. “No. I got my degree in Biology. I was trained by the best in the industry, D.B. Cornelia.”

“He ran Marigolds.”

Alice nodded, pain behind her forced smile.

“I hate to interrupt. But we need more chifrijo,” Valencia said from the doorway. Alice pointed toward the lawn and went to help. Delany found two seats with some other friends, where he abandoned his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The reception progressed around him. During the speeches, he glanced at Alice who stood beside the cut wedding cake with Valencia, who got her to smile. There was an ease about her, Alice in her element. When the next speech started, Alice went back into the house for more coffee. She set the new dispenser on the drink table and took the old one back inside. Music started again.

Delany took Helene to sit with her grandma. Inside the kitchen, Alice laughed while she talked to Valencia who packed up the last of their leftovers. Valencia motioned toward Delany and started to stack their dirty dishes.

“I came to settle up,” Delany said.

“I can invoice you.”

“It gives me a reason to avoid the reception. I’m kind of peopled out.”

Alice found her bag and dug out a notebook. She started to flip through the pages. The hesitancy in her gaze hurt but something about her drew him in. She was kind, easygoing, daring, simple in the best way. Why did the first woman he’d been attracted to in years have to be connected to a botched acquisition he still did not understand?

“What all are you involved in at the moment?” He broke the silence.

“Well, the food truck is ending mid-July, Valencia is leaving to see the world. I am in the process of getting my catering company off the ground.” She folded the receipt book to a page and put it on the counter close to him. Delany picked it up and pretended to skim the invoice.

“How is business?” He looked at her.

Alice leaned on the counter opposite him and looked out of the backyard.

“Slow, to be honest. But hopefully that will change soon. My sister hoped Welcome Note would help me get some funding by renting my place. I’m debating how long to leave it on the site.”

He reached for his checkbook and started to write, adding in a generous tip. Her cooking was worth more than she charged. He tore out the check and gave it to her.

“Thank you for the opportunity. I hope your sister is very happy.” She pushed off the counter and went back to the reception. Delany stayed where he was. Maybe her anger was justified. To her, he was the man who screwed her sister out of her dream. He swept in and now reaped the benefits of her sister’s years of hard work. If he could redo the week he would have gone with Bobbie to the lunch, approached Tabby himself. But he presumed Bobbie had it. Bobbie had overseen the acquisition of a dozen companies and never had an incident like this. But how was Bobbie to know Mr. Clarks would not follow through? Still, he never wanted to hurt Tabby, never wanted her to feel pushed out or like she had to walk away. Something about Alice drew him in and yet how would she ever see him as something other than the man who killed her sister’s dream ?

“WHO’S THE GIRL?” His mother asked on the drive back to Anacostia. Delany did a quick check over his shoulder, Helene passed out in her car seat.

“What do you mean?” He tried to play it cool.

His mother laughed. “The caterer. You were watching her for most of the afternoon.”

“She’s a business contact.”

“If you say so.” She looked out the side window.

They pulled into the community center. Delany put the front windows down and went to unload the leftover food from the wedding. Coretta started talking to the night manager, one of those she’d helped at her law office. Everywhere Delany went in Anacostia, he ran into someone who knew his mother, went to church with his mother, or was helped by his mother. Growing up he hated it. The few times he dared to misbehave she knew before he even got home. The threat of someone calling her was enough to keep Delany from doing anything. Now, her presence in the community comforted him.

Coretta got back into the car and Delany started for her home. The two-story dark brick house had changed little on the outside since she bought it back in the late 70s after Olive’s dad left. A front porch with an overhang, bars over the windows. He’d offered to buy her a new house after he made it, but she refused to leave what she bought for herself. She let him update the inside. New hardwood floors, updated kitchen, a layout that better suited her life as an empty nester with an office on the main floor. His mother didn’t entertain at home much. To her, home was a sanctuary where she recharged. He talked her into taking out one of the bedrooms upstairs and putting in a proper master bath with a deep tub and adequate closet space. At first, she called it extravagant, but now admitted it was her favorite room in the house. There was a room upstairs for Helene. Photos of her family were in frames on the fireplace mantle and the bookcases. The art on the walls was a collection of Black artists, some friends, others she wanted to support. He kept telling her to get the works appraised, Delany sensing she had quite the nest egg in the collection she’d cultivated over the years.

“If you need another reason to see your new friend, I can ask if anyone has any events coming up.” She looked at him as he pulled in front of her house. “Or is Katy already doing that?” Delany stumbled over what to say. His mother laughed and kissed his cheek. “You are so transparent.” She got out of the car. Delany waited until she was safely inside before he pulled away. Maybe if he could make it up to Alice, her sister would realize he never meant to hurt her. If he could prove to Alice he wasn’t what his sister thought, maybe she’d look at him with anything but betrayal. An idea formed in his head. One Alice might just say yes to.