Page 44 of Found

“Oh, come on. Stop that,” my mother chastises. “He doesn’t have to come to church because of anything bad. Every day is a day to celebrate the Lord. “Isn’t that right, son?”

“Absolutely, Momma.”

The choir starts singing, and my mom raises her hands in worship, a giant smile across her face. “Then praise him, we shall.”

I consider myself a spiritual person, though church has never really been my thing. Yet seeing how happy my mom is to have me here causes a pang of guilt to rise in my chest. I should come more often, if only to bring her joy.

After the service, my mom pulls me from person to person, making her rounds, and showing off her son,a lieutenant for the CFD.

“If I’d have known you were coming, I would’ve made your favorites,” she says as we exit the church.

“It’s okay. It was a last-minute decision. How about we go out for lunch at Gerry’s? My treat,” I offer.

Mom nods. “That sounds great. I haven’t been to Gerry’s in quite some time.”

“I actually had a dream about his ribs the other day.” Jeannette sighs contently. “I had figured out the secret ingredient in his barbecue sauce.”

I look past my mom to Jeannette. “I thought we decided it was nutmeg?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I put nutmeg in my sauce at home, and it definitely wasn’t it.”

“Hmm. Well, the mystery continues. Though, I still say it’s honey.”

“But is that really asecretingredient? I don’t think so,” Jeannette argues.

“I think he’s full of it,” my mom scoffs. “It’s just barbecue sauce.”

She’s always a little bitter when Gerry’s name comes up since he was the one who introduced her to our father a good four decades ago. I don’t hold it against the guy. How was he supposed to know that our dad would turn out to be such a loser? I’m assuming he was decent once upon a time. Plus, it’s not like my father’s actions have anything to do with Gerry. He’s simply a person for my mother to blame since the one who holds the fault has been absent for thirty years.

The smell of slow-cooked meat assaults my senses as we walk toward the neighborhood restaurant. I’m sure the fact that Gerry’s food is so good is the sole reason my mom allows us to come in here at all.

“Welcome, Bostons!” Gerry greets us when we enter. “It’s been a while.”

“Why yes, it has, Gerry,” my mother says with a large grin. Despite the stuff she says about him to my sister and me, she has never been anything but pleasant in his presence. I wonder what he would think if he only knew that he’s the scapegoat for all my father’s bad choices.

Gerry extends his arm toward the back of the restaurant. “Well, come along then. I’ve saved the best table for you three.”

We follow him through what is nothing more than the main living area of an old house converted into this local restaurant. Gerry lives alone on the second story.

He hands us each a menu after we’re seated.

“So are you going to finally let me know what that secret ingredient is?” my sister asks with a sweet smile.

“Oh, come on now, Jeanette. You know me better than that. If I went blabbing my mouth to everybody who wanted to know, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?” he replies.

He takes our drink orders and heads back to the kitchen.

“Pfft,” my mother grumbles. “What a weirdo.”

“Mom,” my sister scolds. “Stop it. He’s never been anything but kind.”

“It’s all an act.” She waves her hand through the air. “And I’m not falling for it.”

Reaching across the table, I squeeze my mom’s hand. “A woman must stand up for her convictions. Am I right, Momma?”

“Absolutely.”

Gerry comes back with a round of sweet teas, and we order our meals.

---