Page 3 of Full Circle

“So how come you aren’t with other friends today?” Wesley suddenly asked.

Perhaps it was easier because I couldn’t see him, just feel his warm presence, but for once I answered honestly, “I don’t really have any. Mama was my best friend.”

There was a pregnant pause before he replied softly, “’Was’ your best friend…?”

I gulped, tears threatening to spill over. It was the first time I admitted it out loud to someone else. “She died a few months ago. Heart disease.”

Wesley leaned up on one elbow to look down at me. “Then I get to be your best friend now.” His eyes held no pity, only friendship, for which I was grateful. The assurance in his voice made me feel safe, something I had only ever felt in Daddy’s presence. I was reminded of the cosmic shift in my soul from earlier when he shook my hand.

“CELESTE RENEE HENDRICKS, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Jumping up like my pants were invaded by fire ants, I saw Marla at the park entrance, her hands on her hips. Anger lit up her face. She still had on her work apron, scanning the park for me.

Dang it, I never went back to The Comfy Cushion to eat like Daddy said. Now Marla was gonna scold me til the cows came home.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said to Wesley.

He stood up, too, brushing grass off his tan legs. “Who is that?” he asked, nodding towards Marla.

I sighed. “That’s my mama’s best friend. She helps Daddy at the restaurant now.” Slowly I walked towards her, not in any hurry for the verbal whiplash I knew was coming my way.

Wesley fell into step beside me. “Does your dad manage a restaurant?”

Nodding, I couldn’t keep the pride from my voice as I explained, “We own it. It was my mama’s restaurant.” I pointed across the street to The Comfy Cushion, the outside lights now on from the timer. It must be a lot later than I thought.

Marla finally took sight of me and although I could tell Wesley’s presence by my side surprised her, she continued to frown at me. “Care to explain where you been?!” she snapped. “Had me worried sick! Goodness me, what happened to your eye?!” She gruffly turned my chin upward so that she could examine the cut near my eyebrow.

Before I could respond, Wesley shocked me by saying, “It’s my fault, ma’am. I’m new here and I asked her to show me around.”

If he had announced he was the fifth member of the Beatles, I don’t think Marla could have looked more surprised or confused. Her eyebrows receded towards her hairline as her warm brown eyes darted between the two of us. “Celeste…” she clarified, “…showed you around. Willingly.”

Wesley didn’t skip a beat. “Sure did. She’s the only friend I have in the world right now.”

I could tell Marla was fighting the urge to smile because she wanted to stay mad at me, but she couldn’t hold back. Long before my mother fell ill, I avoided kids my own age, preferring to cook in the restaurant or learn how to manage the books with Daddy. Friends weren’t really a thing on my radar.

“Well, as nice as it is to meet you, Celeste needs to come eat something before she passes out,” Marla replied, giving me less of a stink eye than usual. “Why don’t you come, too? I’ve got a slice of pie with your name on it.”

My heart leapt, hopeful he would accept.

Wesley smiled at me but shook his head. “I should probably get back. My aunt Shirley didn’t know I was leaving.”

Marla’s jaw clenched, warring over his polite decline and his obvious disrespect to his aunt. “Would that be Miss Shirley Jones over there on Houston Street?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

It was the “ma’am” that redeemed him, I could tell. She finally dropped her stiff demeanor and nodded. “You give Miss Shirley my best now, young man.” Marla gave him another once over before turning back towards The Comfy Cushion. “Say good-bye to your friend and get inside,” she called over her shoulder.

I gave him a half-hearted smile as I toed with a small rock at my feet. For the first time ever, I felt a real connection with someone outside of my family, and I didn’t want to leave. “Sorry about that,” I offered.

“Meet you here after lunch tomorrow?” Wesley asked.

He might as well have handed me a four leaf clover. I tried not to make it too obvious as I beamed at him, nodding and wrapping my arms around my own waist to try and contain my joy. A friend—I had finally made a friend.

Spinning on my heel, I started humming along to the song from Daddy’s radio. Maybe, just maybe, I could let the good times roll.

CHAPTER 2

IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP

---