lightness in my heart. Two friends, a husband who hasn’t hit me in weeks, a job, a little money, and a baby on the way. Just when I thought my life would never be anything but misery, everything had changed.
NINE
CALLIE MAE met Fatimah and me at Mountain Man Deli for what she called a working lunch. I hadn’t been out to eat in eight years, and that was only if you counted the fast-food lunches your father would occasionally treat me to in our early days. Callie Mae insisted the meal was on her, and it’s not like Trent would even know, since it was during the workday. But still I couldn’t shake the feeling I was doing something wrong by being there.
The place was noisy with chatter, clanging silverware, and plates slapped down by rushed servers. It smelled of baking bread, dill, and raw onion, which didn’t help my morning sickness in the least. It was odd to feel both ravenously hungry and sick to my stomach all at the same time, but I refused to complain. For you, Manny, I would have lived my whole life leaning over the toilet. You were worth every saltine and ginger ale I had to choke down.
I was so anxious to share the good news about you withmy new friends, but afraid at the same time it might cost me the job Trent and I so desperately needed. Callie Mae seemed to be in a good mood, but your father had taught me well that a smile could change on a dime, so I decided to wait and feel her out.
Callie Mae wore her thin, blonde hair pulled up in a clip, making her seem ten years younger than I would have guessed at the food bank. Her fine features made her look as delicate as a china doll, but I would soon discover the woman was anything but fragile.
The waiter set down our sandwiches and asked if we needed anything else. Callie Mae wanted a refill on her iced tea and Fatimah asked for extra napkins. I eyed the brown mustard on the booth behind us, but as usual, said nothing.
Callie Mae must have seen me looking because she scooted out, grabbed the bottle, and set it in front of me, then retook her seat. It was such a simple act, but it made me feel like such a loser that she found it easy to take what she wanted when I couldn’t. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself I didn’t hear Fatimah speaking to me.
“Peeny, where are you?” she asked.
Jolted out of my thoughts, I was surprised to find both women staring at me expectantly. “What?” I asked, confused.
A group of businessmen passed by us, and when I looked up at them, the oldest winked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. Without responding, I turned back to my lunch dates.
“I’ll get this one,” Callie Mae said. “You get the next.”
I thought she meant the check. When she grabbed my hand in one of hers, and Fatimah’s in the other, I was relieved to find she was talking about the one thing I could actually afford—grace.
“Lord, thank you for bringing these beautiful ladies into my life. Bless this food to our bodies and this fellowship to our souls.”
Her prayer made me want to cry. As far as I knew, no one had ever thanked God for me before. After we added our amens to hers, Callie Mae picked the top bun off her turkey sandwich and scraped off the hot peppers with a butter knife. She let them plop to a slimy mess on her plate beside her potato chips.
My stomach roiled. “Why did you ask for them if you’re just going to take them off?”
She gave me a librarian stare. “You sound like my late husband. For your information, I like a hint of peppers in my mayonnaise. Is that all right with you?”
“I . . . no . . . it’s okay. I was just curious.” Great, I thought, I’ve offended her already. Eating at me was the same feeling as when I’d earned Trent’s disapproval.
The way Callie Mae squinted at me made me feel exposed. I turned away, but still managed to see her and Fatimah share a private look. Trying to deflect the weakness they had just discovered in me, I threw out a joke. “Didn’t your mama
NINE
CALLIE MAE met Fatimah and me at Mountain Man Deli for what she called a working lunch. I hadn’t been out to eat in eight years, and that was only if you counted the fast-food lunches your father would occasionally treat me to in our early days. Callie Mae insisted the meal was on her, and it’s not like Trent would even know, since it was during the workday. But still I couldn’t shake the feeling I was doing something wrong by being there.
The place was noisy with chatter, clanging silverware, and plates slapped down by rushed servers. It smelled of baking bread, dill, and raw onion, which didn’t help my morning sickness in the least. It was odd to feel both ravenously hungry and sick to my stomach all at the same time, but I refused to complain. For you, Manny, I would have lived my whole life leaning over the toilet. You were worth every saltine and ginger ale I had to choke down.
I was so anxious to share the good news about you withmy new friends, but afraid at the same time it might cost me the job Trent and I so desperately needed. Callie Mae seemed to be in a good mood, but your father had taught me well that a smile could change on a dime, so I decided to wait and feel her out.
Callie Mae wore her thin, blonde hair pulled up in a clip, making her seem ten years younger than I would have guessed at the food bank. Her fine features made her look as delicate as a china doll, but I would soon discover the woman was anything but fragile.
The waiter set down our sandwiches and asked if we needed anything else. Callie Mae wanted a refill on her iced tea and Fatimah asked for extra napkins. I eyed the brown mustard on the booth behind us, but as usual, said nothing.
Callie Mae must have seen me looking because she scooted out, grabbed the bottle, and set it in front of me, then retook her seat. It was such a simple act, but it made me feel like such a loser that she found it easy to take what she wanted when I couldn’t. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself I didn’t hear Fatimah speaking to me.
“Peeny, where are you?” she asked.
Jolted out of my thoughts, I was surprised to find both women staring at me expectantly. “What?” I asked, confused.
A group of businessmen passed by us, and when I looked up at them, the oldest winked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable. Without responding, I turned back to my lunch dates.
“I’ll get this one,” Callie Mae said. “You get the next.”
I thought she meant the check. When she grabbed my hand in one of hers, and Fatimah’s in the other, I was relieved to find she was talking about the one thing I could actually afford—grace.
“Lord, thank you for bringing these beautiful ladies into my life. Bless this food to our bodies and this fellowship to our souls.”
Her prayer made me want to cry. As far as I knew, no one had ever thanked God for me before. After we added our amens to hers, Callie Mae picked the top bun off her turkey sandwich and scraped off the hot peppers with a butter knife. She let them plop to a slimy mess on her plate beside her potato chips.
My stomach roiled. “Why did you ask for them if you’re just going to take them off?”
She gave me a librarian stare. “You sound like my late husband. For your information, I like a hint of peppers in my mayonnaise. Is that all right with you?”
“I . . . no . . . it’s okay. I was just curious.” Great, I thought, I’ve offended her already. Eating at me was the same feeling as when I’d earned Trent’s disapproval.
The way Callie Mae squinted at me made me feel exposed. I turned away, but still managed to see her and Fatimah share a private look. Trying to deflect the weakness they had just discovered in me, I threw out a joke. “Didn’t your mama
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