She had not yet introduced herself. The question came before the introduction, which confirmed to Andre that Lucille Morgan operated by her own rules of social engagement and expected the universe to accommodate. Long enough to know the important things, Andre said. Sitting down beside Clare, still learning the rest. Lucille looked at him over her reading glasses.
She had put them on specifically to look at him over them, which was a power move he genuinely admired. How old are you? 35. You have children. A daughter.
She's 12. Who's watching her tonight? Our neighbor, Mrs. Patterson. She's been with us since Maya was 8.
Good woman. Lucille nodded. A single considered nod. What church do you attend? Cascade Road Baptist.
When I can make it, he paused. I work Saturdays, so Sunday mornings are about 50/50. 50/50 is better than none, Lucille said with the tone of a woman adjusting a grade from F to C. She picked up her menu. You passed the first portion.
Across the table, Dedra caught Clare's eye and made a face that communicated approximately 14 separate reactions simultaneously. Clare, to her credit, did not laugh. James Morgan had not yet spoken directly to Andre. He was watching the way careful men watch, not staring, just paying attention, registering details, forming conclusions that he would not share until he was ready. Andre had worked for 22 months alongside men like James Morgan on job sites and in city planning meetings and in the offices of Atlanta's Old Guard establishment, and he understood the language.
James wasn't hostile. He was cautious. He was the kind kind of father who had watched his daughter get hurt and blamed himself for not preventing it and who now measured every new candidate against the specific ways the last one had failed. Andre could respect that. What he hadn't expected was Ryan himself.
Ryan leaned across the table during a pause in the conversation and extended his hand. Ryan called well. Clean handshake. No theater in it. Claire's told me about you.
She's told me about you, too, Andre said. A half-second pause. I hope good things, Ryan said with a smile that reached almost to his eyes. She's fair, Andre said, which was both the most honest and the most careful thing he could have said. And he watched Ryan receive it and process it and nod once with an expression that said he understood exactly what was happening and had decided to be a gentleman about it.