Inspiration 43

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Proverbs 18:22 Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.

How does one find a wife, husband, mate? And how do you know if the one you choose is the right one?

So, April thus far has two possible suitors. Are there others in the running? Let's meet André, Chase, and Drew.

ANDRÉ

"Listen up!" bellowed Russell. All four men turned their attention to the boss. "This is April Chastain, our new features writer. April, André Cheeks."

"Welcome," said the tall black man with a twinkle in his cat green eyes and a genuine smile. He stood and offered his hand.

April shook hands. "Thanks."

Russell continued, "In the back, my stringers, Art Lynd, Reggie Trammel, and Chase Pickens."

The three men acknowledged April and got back to work.

"I'm not done," said Russell. The busyness stopped again. "April is NOT a secretary. She's a reporter. Trina's still the gofer. Get your own damned coffee. Chase, I know you had three weddings this weekend. Give April the forms and the Garden Club."

A young, slight-built blond-haired, blue-eyed man pranced forward with several folders and handed them to April. "Welcome," he said and scurried back.

"André," said Russell, "show April how to log on to our server. April, your log-on will be your name. Make up your own password. Tell it to me later. Art, we have Lion's Club lunch in half an hour. So, get busy, A. M. Chastain. Welcome home." Russell went back to his office.

André waved April to the empty desk. "Come on." April sat down, draping her blazer over the back of the chair. "You didn't expect to actually start today, did you?" he asked.

"No."

"Don't let Russ scare you. He's a real teddy bear once the paper's out on Thursday, a grizzly all other days. You're his new little cub reporter. He will look over your shoulder."

"Did you play basketball?"

"Yeah, at JSU."

"Not NBA?"

"Nope. Too clumsy. English degree." Leaning over the new reporter's shoulder, André got April started on her computer and went back to his own.

April and André felt and instant connection to each other and developed an immediate rapport and chatted comfortably from the start...

André showed April the break room and the unisex restroom before he showed her the press room, which was down a small flight of stairs and opened onto the parking garage. He commented, "We print church bulletins and other things to bring a little cash flow." In the break room he asked, "See this list?"

April nodded.

"We take turns bringing coffee, sugar, and creamer. Bring the kind you like. As a general rule, Trina makes the first pot," he continued as he rinsed the pot and started another. "If you empty it, you make the next pot." He flashed that smile again and started another pot of coffee after filling his mug and pouring April's into a Styrofoam cup. "You can sign up for the next empty month."

April replied, "I like Community New Orleans Blend with chicory."

André shrugged. "Works for me. Russ will really like it because he makes his strong. Art always adds water to a cup of Russ's brew. Art's is a little weak. Bring your own mug."

April laughed about having just one restroom. "I guess that's what a lock is for."

"It's a small paper," he said as they got back to their computers. "That's why we have to act as the community print shop—give the local Kinko's a little competition."

"You from here?" André asked, startling April back to the present.

"Originally."

"Your story?" he leaned back in his chair, pushed away a bit from the desk, and stretched his long slender legs out in front of him.

April paused in her typing. "Lived across the street from Russell's family. Parents murdered. Survived gunshot wound at age six. Moved to Jackson area. Adopted by aunt and uncle. USM grad. Came home."

"Ah. Is the M for McDougal?"

"Yep."

"April, The Bugle is family. We get one another's backs. Even Trina. She's a good office manager. Married with two kids in grade school. Husband works for Winchester Contracting. Russell got rid of the bad apples. Only the press operator is from his father's time. Russ is a news man. He doesn't scratch backs. Makes people mad though."

April laughed. "Did he get his nose broken after he came home?"

"Yes. He has worse scars. Some of the good old boys didn't like his stand on the zoning issue."

"He was beaten up?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"Yep. You should see where the knife went across his abdomen. Zoning was tabled when his story made the front page of The Clarion-Ledger. I wrote it." He proudly showed his plaque for a Mississippi journalism award...

CHASE

"The pretty boy?" April whispered.

"Single, twenty-five, failed model, poet, gigolo."

"Gay?"

"Maybe bi. His business." A little smirk played around André's pouty, sensuous lips. He stood and looked down at April...

"You could picnic with Chase."

"You wouldn't be jealous of Chase?" Her eyebrows arched.

"No, I think he prefers men."

"You sure?"

"No, but he wants to keep his job."

April shook her head in disbelief...

Chase got up and walked toward April's desk.

He grabbed the back of April's rolling chair and pulled her away from her desk. He spun the chair around and grimaced. "Come on," he said as if talking to a child. "Bring your cosmetics. I know you have them with you. And bring your hairbrush."

Chase peeked out at Trina. He informed, "Trina, I'll be in the restroom with April."

By the time Chase finished April's makeup and hair she could have been a model. He took a step back and looked at her. He tilted his head back as if examining a work of art and nodded at his handiwork. "Go home before the luncheon. Put on something 'Barbara Bushy.'  Keep the glasses for the old crows." He turned her toward the mirror. He whispered, "Forget the old crow comment. Miss Eileen would skin me."

April exclaimed, "Wow, Chase! You sure you're not gay?"

"Positive. I was in New York modeling a couple of years before I got sick."

"Sick?" Am I so shallow that I never bothered to ask about any of my coworkers on a personal level?

"I'll tell you sometime, but I learned how to do makeup." Chase tossed all the items back into April's makeup bag. "Male models wear makeup, too...

 Wednesday, the paper went to press, and Russell called the group to attention. "Two assignments tonight. April and Chase, you have a suite at the Riviera Belle Hotel and Casino. You two will be covering my niece's pageant. You leave in the morning. You discuss between yourselves who drives and whatever." He returned to his office

Chase sat on the corner of April's desk. "Your car's nicer."

"Fine with me, but I drive."

"Works for me. You wanna pick me up?"

"Sure. What do I pack?"

"An evening dress, some office casual, a bikini."

April laughed. "Will there be playtime?"

"Yes. There was last year, but I was alone."

"You covered the pageant last year?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Russ figured a former model could relate. What background do you have?"

"I'm female." She scratched her head and gave a slight scowl. "I was a cheerleader."

Chase shrugged. "Good enough. Check-in is at two. It'll take about four hours to drive down."

"Let's leave about eight," April suggested. "We can stop in Hattiesburg for lunch."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you in the morning."

April tapped on Russell's door. "Come in, Munchkin," he said.

"Aren't you going for the pageant?" she asked opening the door.

"I'll be down Saturday."

"Didn't think I could go it alone?"

"Not so. Humor me. It is Chase."

"He's not gay, Russell."

"I know now. He's come out of the closet—he's straight." Russell sniggered...

DREW

April stared after the older man who took out a pack of cigarettes before he got out the door. Drew Patterson came up behind her. "You tried to be fair."

She turned around into a man nearly the same size as Stockton, but half his age. This man would make any woman look twice with his coal black hair and soulful brown eyes. "Mr. Patterson, will you talk to me?"

"Sure. Do you like hot fudge cake?"

"Delicious."

"Join me for a late-night dessert."

April and Drew Patterson met at a Shoney's on the outskirts of town where they ordered dessert and coffee.

"This seems clandestine," commented April.

"It is...

 Looking at Drew Patterson's left hand, April asked, "You're not married?"

"No."

"May I tell Russell?"

"Yes. You're going to need backup."

"Where's your backup, your support? Where's your family? Don't they even know?"

"I don't have any family. Maybe it's better this way."

"You shouldn't have to be alone through this."

"Thanks."

"You have a friend now."

Drew laughed a little. "I do have friends, April. I chose not to tell them yet."

"Maybe it's time."

Drew inclined his head. "Maybe. Russ will know after tonight."

Looking at Drew Patterson's left hand, April asked, "You're not married?"

"No."

"May I tell Russell?"

"Yes. You're going to need backup."

"Where's your backup, your support? Where's your family? Don't they even know?"

"I don't have any family. Maybe it's better this way."

"You shouldn't have to be alone through this."

"Thanks."

"You have a friend now."

Drew laughed a little. "I do have friends, April. I chose not to tell them yet."

"Maybe it's time."

Drew inclined his head. "Maybe. Russ will know after tonight."

April opened the other one:

I enjoyed your company for dessert. Tell Russell I said get off his ass or he'll have some serious competition when I beat this shit. Zach Logan is nothing compared to me.

April laughed as Russell scowled. He growled, "It's not funny. He's serious."

Cover by Christopher Cambers.

The other suitors? André, Chase, Drew, as I picture them.