The rest of the crew had found their way to the park, and the men were spilling in around us. “Hey, Pete,” one of them called. “That your dessert?”
“Damn, and all I got was a pudding cup,” another of the guys hooted.
“Can I have a taste, Petey?” a short wiry guy called out.
“Ignore them. Those bastards would give anything to be sitting here with you. And I can’t blame them,” he said, but I could tell from the way he looked at the other men that they were pushing their luck. He noticed the backpack. “You doing a tour today?” he asked.
I opened my backpack and handed him his sandwich. “I brought you lunch,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. Exposed and vulnerable in a way that a few catcalls could never make me.
“Lunch, huh,” he smiled happily. “This really was premeditated, then?”
“Yeah, I guess it was.” An innocent joy washed over him, and on his face I saw real love, not some horrible Hoodoo counterfeit. He deserved the real kind too, and I was determined to try to find it in myself to give to him. And if I couldn’t, I’d just have to find the strength to set him free. I cursed myself for ever going to Jilo. I pushed the thought of her away, only to find my thoughts returning to an equally undesirable person—Tucker. “Tucker told me that my mother was the one who got him involved in Tillandsia,” I said, “Maybe that’s where she met my father.”
“Okay,” Peter said. “What are you thinking?”
“That I might be able to learn something if I take him up on his offer to introduce me to the club. Maybe it would help me figure out who my dad is.”
He was quiet for a moment, his face a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. “Listen,” he said. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just that I don’t know what went on in the club when your mama was in it. I’m sure it wasn’t anything like the stuff they get up to today, but…” He paused.
“But what?”
“Well I’ve heard talk around the bar. They get up to some pretty wild things in Tillandsia these days. It’s turned into a kind of swingers club.” He looked guilty, as if he’d been forced to tell me there was no such thing as Santa. “You know I love Ellen, and I don’t mean to judge her, but Mercy, Tillandsia is no place for you.”
“But if what you say about Tillandsia is true, and it was like that when my mama was involved, any of the men in the club could be my father, even Tucker Perry.”
“Not a chance,” Peter said through his sandwich. “If Tucker thought you and Maisie could be his girls, he wouldn’t be sniffing around the two of you so much.”
“You sure about that?” I asked him. “ ’Cause I am not so sure myself.”
Peter’s face turned gray, and he lowered his sandwich. “I think I lost my appetite.” He wrapped the sandwich back in its cellophane. “Naw, even Tucker Perry isn’t that much of a perv,” he said after a moment, trying to convince me, and probably even himself. “Listen. I could talk to Tucker. I should talk to Tucker. I’ve been wanting to, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.”
“What boundaries?” I asked.
“My boundaries with you,” he said. “I didn’t know for sure if you would want me to stand up to Tucker as your…”
“As my what?” I prompted him.
“As your man,” he said, and a nervous look came into his eyes, crowned by a twitch in his forehead. “I’m not sure if that’s how you see me, but I do know you well enough never to just presume.”
I took it all in—the warm light from his mismatched eyes, the sun setting his hair on fire, and his strength and kindness. Still I hesitated an instant too long.
“I always thought the two of us were bound to end up together sooner or later,” he said. “Until Jackson came to town, that is.” I didn’t know what to say. It was one thing for Maisie to read me, but if my feelings were so obvious to Peter, the most normal man I had ever met, I stunk at hiding my emotions. “I don’t mind that I’m not your first choice, Mercy,” he said, saving me from the silence. “Not as long you eventually get around to choosing me.”
I felt a stirring in my heart, but I knew it wasn’t the result of any Hoodoo—it was a recognition of Peter’s goodness. I crossed the few feet over to him on my knees, then pressed my lips against his, wrapping my arms around him. He kissed me back and pulled me to his chest, like he was trying to pull me into him. Peter was a wonderful man. He’d be a good husband and a good father when the time came. Instead of a magical passion, I felt a sudden peace growing in me, a knowledge that somehow we were going to make our relationship work, whatever it took.
I stopped kissing Peter and looked him dead in the eye. “I think you need to go have a man-to-man talk with Tucker.”
“Oh, and I am going to do just that,” he said and began kissing me again.
“I would tell them to get a room,” I heard one of Peter’s coworkers say to the others, “but truth is, I’d kind of like to watch.”
NINE