connection?”
“Yeah, you set it up at my house, remember.”
“That’s right.” Tim snapped his fingers. “I’ll run some diagnostics. You might’ve inadvertently downloaded spyware or a virus, corrupted some files. That crap’s all over the Web these days, dude.”
“I can’t do much work until it’s fixed. When can you get to it?”
Tim checked his watch. There was an image of Mickey Mouse on the watch face.
“Mickey Mouse?” Joshua asked.
“He kicks ass.” Tim’s face was serious.
“Mickey Mouse?” Joshua asked again.
Tim broke into a grin. “You got me. Conversation piece. You noticed, didn’t you?”
“You’re a weirdo.”
“So? I know my shit. You can be as weird as you want if you’re good at your job. Einstein was eccentric, but we celebrate his genius.”
“The only one who celebrates your genius is you.”
Tim gave him the finger.
“Anyway, dude, I’ll have an answer for you on this by four. How’s that?”
“That’s cool. I’m about to go have lunch with Eddie.”
“You didn’t invite me. Is it a black thing or something?”
Joshua laughed. “We’ve invited you to lunch plenty of times, but we can’t ever get you out of this shop.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Josh, I’m the only employee. I can’t leave.”
“Hire some help then.”
“I don’t trust anyone else to know what they’re doing. I’ve got a family legacy to live up to here.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me.”
“Man, get out of here before I decide to start charging you for all the work I do.”
7
Joshua and Eddie met for lunch at the Busy Bee Café in the West End, an older area of Atlanta that included the Atlanta University Center—colleges such as Spelman, Morehouse, Morris Brown, and Clark Atlanta. Eddie was an assistant football coach at Clark, and lived in the neighborhood. When he and Joshua met for lunch, the popular soul food joint was usually the chosen spot.
Around half-past noon, the restaurant was packed with college students, school faculty, cops, and business people. The air was redolent with the savory aromas of fried chicken, pork chops, mac-and-cheese, and other southern specialties that guaranteed a coronary if you weren’t careful to exercise moderation.
The décor was simple: brown vinyl booths, narrow tables, a long counter, and walls plastered with dining awards and signed photos of celebrities and politicians. You didn’t go there for the ambience. The food was the main draw.
A waitress with a short, neatly trimmed Afro took their orders: fried chicken, collard greens, and candied yams for Eddie; a fried catfish sandwich and fries for Joshua. Both of them requested glasses of sweet tea.
“I don’t know how you can eat here every week and stay so thin,” Joshua said. “I have to watch myself.”
“It’s genetic.” Eddie patted his flat stomach. “Like my pops. That man’s been eating fried chicken and pork chops three times a week for his whole life and he still only weighs a buck fifty. Blood pressure’s getting too damn high, though.”
“Nothing that tastes good is ever good for you, seems like.”
The waitress delivered their iced teas. Eddie picked up the glass and took a long sip.
“So, has something happened since I saw you last night, man?” Eddie asked. “Or did you just want the pleasure of my company?”
Joshua smiled wryly. He couldn’t fool Eddie with small talk. They had been friends for far too long.
“I don’t know how to put this,” Joshua said. “But do you ever get the feeling that you never truly know someone?”
“All the time. Ariel shocks the hell outta me with something at least once a week.” Eddie grinned with evident satisfaction. “Welcome to married life—finally.”
“I know, you think I’ve been living in some wedded-bliss dream world for the past six months—and maybe I have,” Joshua said. “But I think this is something different.”
“What do you mean?”
Joshua pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you. This stays between me and you.”
“’Course.”
“I think Rachel’s got some secrets. About her past. Stuff she’s never told me about and doesn’t want to tell me about.”
“Don’t we all?” Eddie shrugged. “Damn, I thought you were gonna say something serious.”
“This is serious. It all started when she had a nightmare last night. She was fighting some guy in her dream. When I asked her about it this morning, she said she didn’t remember any of it, had no idea who she might’ve been struggling with.”
“Maybe she doesn’t. Do you always remember your dreams? I sure don’t.”
“I know but…” Joshua sighed. “I thought she was lying, that’s all.”
“She could’ve been. She might not have wanted to talk about it, ’cause it would dredge up bad memories.”
“I guess so.”
“All I know is, everyone has secrets, some of ’em good, some of ’em bad,” Eddie said. “You haven’t told Rachel everything about yourself, right?”
“I’ve told her the most important stuff about me.”
“All of it?” Eddie’s gaze was keen. “Every deep, dark secret?”
“I don’t have any deep, dark secrets.”
“Maybe you don’t. But some folks do, dawg. Some people have been through some rough shit in their lives—shit they don’t want to tell anyone, including a spouse. You’ve gotta respect that.”
“You think I’m overreacting?”
“Nah, I think you’re just starting to learn what being married is all about. You can’t sweat every little detail about your wife. She’s not gonna be perfect, just like you aren’t perfect. But you’ve gotta love her anyway for who she is, overall.”
“I guess I’ll let it go.”
“Rachel’s
