He drank the rest of the water, then handed me the glass. “Tobacco business is still good in Sapelo. I employ many people, trying to help folks take care of their families.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, folding my hands. “I believe your company is what has kept the people here. It’s the only viable industry on the island, and you’ve always treated people fairly.”
He looked over at the grandfather clock, chiming in the background. “I don’t know about all of that, Jasmine. I’ve tried to do my best, but I’m not perfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Even hurt some people.” He looked back at me, sadness creeping across his face. “There are things I wish I could take back, but I can’t. So, I’m gonna make sure mistakes are minimal from this point on. I want future generations to keep the plant going, and hopefully give something back to Sapelo, as I plan on doing.”
I reached for his hand. “You talk like you’re on your death bed.”
&n
bsp; “It’s necessary talk. You didn’t become a lawyer, thinking just about today. I didn’t build a company, thinking about what someone built yesterday. We’re visionaries, you and I. You gotta always plan ahead, because life is sure to catch you sleeping, if you don’t.”
I smiled. “Words of wisdom, sir. I thank you.”
He sighed as he squeezed my hand. “Don’t thank me anymore. You’re my attorney. You’ve done an excellent job, handling my business matters. I thank you.” He let my hand go, and began to rub his chest.
I stood up, concerned. “Mr. Rayman, do you want me to call for Gladys?”
He coughed violently, motioning for more water. I hurried to the end table and poured him another glass. He took a sip, shaking his head. I touched his shoulder as he exhaled. “No, no. I’m fine. I just get choked up, sometimes.” He picked up the papers. “Let me look over things, and we’ll talk again, at the Board of Directors meeting. I’m appointing two new members, effective first quarter of the New Year. My son, Victor, who will replace me, and my first female appointee.”
I smiled. “Really? Let me guess, Mrs. Rayman?”
“Good guess, but no cigar,” he said cheerfully.
“Who?”
“Mrs. Jasmine Kelly, Esquire.”
I was speechless. He slowly rose to his feet, as I offered my assistance. “Mr. Rayman, you’re appointing me to the board? Why? I mean, you already have separate counsel managing the operations of the corporation.” He patted my hand.
“I’m tired. I need to rest now. We’ll discuss it further after the meeting next week.”
HOW CAN YOU MEND A BROKEN HEART?
When I walked back through the Hog Hammock community where Harrison lived, I saw him chopping wood. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, but managed to belt a loud roar after each hit to the stump. Sweat poured from his face, more so from anger than the hot sun beaming down. Even a scowl didn’t diminish his handsome features. Since he was situated right outside Otis’ furniture shop, I thought it’d be all right for us to talk. Otis, a disabled veteran and constant nuisance, sat on the shop porch with an oriental female companion. She massaged his shoulders, while he enjoyed watching Harrison’s rage.
I walked by them gawking, and stepped cautiously towards Harrison. “You ready to talk?” I asked, watching his bare back flex from manual labor.
He didn’t respond and continued to chop away at the wood.
I spoke louder. “Harrison, you hear me? Can we talk?”
He stood chopping, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Nothing more than a grunt came from his mouth as he stood straight, staring at the trees before him. Harrison’s face turned casually to me for a second. He threw his cigarette down, and didn’t say a word as he continued to vent with the wood. I sighed as I removed my pumps. I unraveled the beige suit coat I’d wrapped around my hips, placing them on another stump where his sweet tea rested. I picked up the Mason jar, taking a sip as I tucked a bra strap that had fallen to my shoulder back under my rayon camisole.
“Man, you shoulda listened to me when I told you ’fore, Naomi was nothin’ but trouble.” He smirked, pointing at me. “And this one here, she’ll send ya to an early grave.” I gulped down my sip, drawing my cheeks in as I flipped Otis the bird. His simple ass cackled, stomping his foot on the porch.
Harrison gritted his teeth and hit the wood again, keeping the ax in the stump as he stared at Otis. “Otis, I ain’t for your two cents. All I want is some wood. Keep your opinions to yourself.”
Otis held his hands up. “All I’m sayin’ is, some of these Sapelo women too high maintenance. That’s why I brought me back a real Geechee girl, ain’t that right, rice puddin’?” he said, tickling his woman.
I tightened my lips, placing my free hand on my hip as I walked to the porch.
“Well, if things so Peachy and Geechee in Vietnam, why don’t you take your ass back there? Be fewer headaches for all of us. Ain’t that right, rice puddin’?” I asked, acknowledging the woman.
She stood up and bowed at me. “Yah, yah,” she replied through a million teeth.
“You speak English?” She nodded and smiled, not knowing what I’d just asked. I was gonna have fun with this. I shook her hand. “Welcome to Sapelo. Lemme help ya learn a couple of words… Hot grits.” I mouthed the words slowly, “H-O-T G-R-I-T-S.”
She smiled. “Yah…yah.”