“…your Auntie Rose. I know. I know that now. Took me facing myself after what happened to you to realize what I’d done and why. Wasn’t nothing against them. Just was for me. Wrong decisions all around. God worked it out in me.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Valerie replied, “My last couple years of high school were great, and I made friends and had experiences I never would have had. Don’t feel like it was all wrong, even if you wish you’d done something different. We, uh, all make bad decisions.”
“We do, girl. Life is full of ‘em. Thank God there is redemption, or I’d be a hurting soul.”
She took a few more bites, trying to word what she wanted to say. “Uncle Buddy, I’m thankful for everything you’ve ever done for me. I feel like you gave up your life for me, and that is not anything I’ll ever forget.”
He barked a loud laugh. “Gave up my life? What are you talking about?”
“You never married. I don’t even remember you ever dating.”
“Bah, dating ain’t for me. Never was. Never met a woman I’d want to marry. I was content in my bachelorhood before I got you, and I’m content in it now.” He pointed at her with his fork. “What your mama and daddy did leaving you to me, that saved my life. You gave me a purpose, something to work for, someone to provide for. Who knows what would have happened without you. You didn’t make me give up my life; you gave me a life.”
Feeling overwhelmed with sentimental emotion, tears stung Valerie’s eyes—tears she would not let fall. She blinked them back and shut the lid on her empty container, her mouth still singing with spices and flavor, her stomach full of good barbecue. “Alright, then,” she laughed, “that’s enough seriousness for one lunch. You still got Braves season tickets?”
“Yup.” He shoveled potato salad into his mouth and talked around it. “Same seats I always had. Right next to Philip and Rosaline’s. You want to go to the opening game?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course!”
“Been too long since we sat in the stadium together. Will do us both good.” He tossed his fork into the empty container and shut the lid. “I enjoyed this, girl. Want to make it a habit?”
“More than you know.” She grinned as she gathered their food containers and put them into the bag in which he’d brought them. “I’ll toss these in the break room trash so the smell of barbecue doesn’t haunt me all day.”
They started out of her office, but Buddy stopped with his hand on the door. “By the way, Sweetwater Church is dedicating its new library building to your parents. The memorial service is next month. I expect you can come.”
Her stomach clenched in response, but she didn’t immediately tell him no. Instead, she smiled and leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Shoot me the information. I’ll look at my calendar.”
“Do that.” He stared at her for several seconds. “Opening game for the Braves is the last Thursday of next month.”
“I’ll check my schedule for that, too.” She opened the door and stepped out onto the main floor. “We doing this next Tuesday?”
“That’s a great idea.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped to his calendar. “It’s going in firmly. Tuesday lunches with Val. Perfect.” He put a hand on her upper arm. “I love you, girl. I’ve missed you for years. Glad you’re home.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” He left her to go in one direction, and she went in the other to throw the garbage away. After stopping in the restroom to wash her hands, she went back to her office. For several minutes after she returned to her desk, she stared at the empty screen of the Smartboard.
She had no desire to go to her parents’ church to let them dedicate a building in honor of their going on a mission trip and getting killed. She harbored a lot of anger at her parents for leaving her when she was just three years old. She felt like they should have waited a few more years before getting back into inner-city missions. But they just handed her to Buddy, a bachelor who had never had kids, and used their vacation to go on a mission trip in South Central Los Angeles, as if they couldn’t have found something charitable to do in the inner city of Atlanta. A gang shooting left both her parents dead on the street in California and left her and Buddy with just each other.
No, she would not go see them honored. They deserved no honor. They put an imaginary deity ahead of her well-being, and she would not let go of that.
The question remained, though, how to convey that to Buddy? All her life, he took her to church, prayed with her, prayed for her. He and Philip Dixon met weekly to discuss Bible studies over breakfast, and until the day she left for college, he required her regular attendance at youth group events. His relationship with his god consumed his entire life, as it had her parents’. Simply telling him she stopped believing in what he believed sometime during her college freshman Philosophy class would do no good. He wouldn’t hear it.
Taking a deep breath through her nose and slowly releasing it, she let it go. She’d just have to take one day at a time with Buddy and let him see her, really see her, so he understood.
Valerie stood in front ofthe Smartboard and rolled the remote control around in her hand while she looked at the interior of the main entrance of the proposed shopping mall. Several catalogs showing fountain designs lay open on the floor in front of her and swatches of fabric samples draped over every available surface. Frowning, she stepped forward and double-tapped the screen, allowing her to access the object on the screen so she could select a different color for the tile accent lining the fountain.
Not liking that one, either, she finally hit the button and turned off the board. She had reached the point of overthinking it. Time to step away for a few minutes.
She grabbed her empty water bottle and stepped out of her office. The hum of conversation and work-related noise from all the cubicles and open office doors made her thankful for good sound dampening in the design of the interior offices. She’d realized the first week here that with her door shut, she could forget anyone else even worked in the same building with her. In Savannah, she’d heard every telephone chirp, every text message notification and, unfortunately, most conversations. Here, though, she only heard other people when she had her door was open. At first, she had a hard time concentrating in silence. But after a couple days, she realized how much better she could think and how much more efficiently she worked without constant interruptions.
She walked through the cubicles to the other side of the floor and into the break room. She saw Sami Jones sitting at one of the round tables with two women she recognized from the staff meeting Monday morning, a receptionist from the top floor, and a mechanical engineer.
Sami hopped up from the table. “Valerie! Just in time. We’re talking about our meeting that’s during lunch today. We’d love for you to join us.”
Valerie unscrewed the lid to her water bottle and leaned down over the water cooler to fill it. “Lunch today?”
The mechanical engineer spoke. Valerie recognized a slight northern tone to her voice. “National Association of Women in Construction. We meet the third Thursday of every month.”
The smile crossed her face before she could stop it. “NAWIC? Oh, my goodness, I used to be a member in Savannah.” Used to, meaning, until she started dating Tyrone and he took that away from her like everything else. How had she forgotten about it? The time spent with other women in her city who worked in the construction industry had, frequently, been the highlight of her week. She’d started to forge some close friendships; at least, until they went away. “I’d love to come. When and where?”
