The Food Desert

The place was packed to the point of people standing in the back. Most were from the church, but my extended family was there. The glaring exception was my mother and her side of the family. Well, I invited her, the rest was on her. Sandy's father had flown in from France and gave her away. He was suitably impressed with his daughter's success, and he seemed to like me.

Ms. Chen hovered over Sandy while her husband beamed as she introduced them to her family as my parents. Her dress was breathtaking and she seemed to float down the aisle. I don't think I took four breaths during the entire ceremony, but I remember lifting her veil for our kiss. Tears were streaming down her cheeks but every tooth was bared into the largest smile I'd ever seen on her face.

I don't remember much about the reception, but it was still going on when we boarded the plane for our honeymoon destination. We were going to France. Not Paris, but Nice and then on to Monaco.

The honeymoon turned into a food odyssey, as Sandy dragged me from restaurant to restaurant. We ate foods I'd never tasted and loved. We ate foods I'd never tasted and barely controlled the urge to vomit. I finally learned to say no if it did not appeal to me. It should have bothered me, but she was so happy I couldn't be angry. The nights and mornings made up for it as we tried our best to burn off the extra calories.

We were supposed to spend five days in Monaco but left after two because neither of us felt comfortable there. We did hit a few casinos; after all, it was Monaco. Sandy won a few thousand euros at a game we didn't understand, and I dropped almost a thousand at blackjack, which I thought I did understand.

The rest of our time was spent traveling the Italian coast, eating in small diners and bistros off the beaten path. We both agreed that next vacation should be spent traveling the interior and mountains to see what delights awaited us there.

Most of the beaches were topless or nude. It still took her until the last two days to drop her top. She said she was embarrassed but her nipples stayed hard as rocks, especially when a man would whistle or try to chat her up. I thought one Spaniard was going to have to experience some good old fashioned Southern ass whipping, until Sandy called him out for the ass he was. I was fluent enough by then to understand everything. We were on a clothing optional beach and he was nude, with a little pot belly and an even smaller penis.

Before I could stop her she yanked down my shorts, telling him to take a look at what a man's cock should look like. We had drawn a pretty good crowd and people howled with laughter as he scurried away. It took me fifteen minutes to talk her into letting me pull up my trunks. Sandy was laughing until I stopped struggling and started pulling on her thong. "It's only fair," I said, as her thong popped off into my hands. She covered herself before grinning, and we walked the length of the beach and back to our hotel before she begged me to let her put her thong back on. We never repeated it, but it made a killer story when we got back home.

Chapter 19

We went home and settled into domestic bliss. She still ran her restaurant and I was checking into another store location across the state line. My schedule was much more flexible than hers so I adapted to it, making sure we got to spend every moment we weren't working together. Our first anniversary was approaching and I asked her if there was any one thing she desired, so I could get it for her.

In answer she took four days off and we rented a cabin in the mountains, laid-in supplies, and rarely left the property. We didn't spend it all in bed, there were trails to hike, and we spent a day skiing, but there was a lot of lovemaking. We were snuggled together under blankets the last night, watching the fire crackle. I was idly playing with a nipple when she sighed and took my hand.

"I've thought a lot about what I'm about to ask you. If you truly want to give me something, this is all I desire. I'm 31, you're 35, and my clock is ticking. I've wanted to be a mother all my life, even more than being successful in business. If you truly mean what you say about giving me anything, this is it. Will you make a child with me?"

She didn't know it, but she'd hit on my fondest dream. I loved Mickey, but I got him late, so I never got to experience late-night diaper changes, the terrible twos, teething, watching him learn to walk and talk or grow as a young child. I wanted it more than any success I could achieve.

She mistook my stillness for reluctance and tried to change the subject. I put my fingers to her lips. "Shhh. Don't spoil the moment. You've just made me very happy. I vote you throw the birth control pills away, forthwith!"

Sandy giggled. "Forthwith?"

"Absolutely, forthwith. I've always wanted to use that word. Seriously honey, the sooner we start, the better. I don't want to try to chase them around with my walker."

The blanket slipped down and I'll never forget the look on her face. Lust, love, and something deeper, primal, the urge to continue the species. "The only time you're going to need a walker is tomorrow. After I'm done with you, we'll be lucky if either of us can walk right."

Making love to Sandy had always been great, but that night took it to a whole new level. A stray thought popped into my head as she rode me, now I know what a male spider feels when he's mating with a Black Widow. She consumed me.

It took five months, but one day I came home to find her sitting at the kitchen table, crying. Since she was so emotional, I wasn't very concerned. Sandy would cry at the drop of a hat.

I sat down beside her, hugging her to me. "What's wrong, baby?"

She tried to talk several times before giving up, sliding something across the table. I picked it up and my heart exploded. Blue lines on a little stick. We were pregnant!

I tried to form words, but I must have been around my wife too much, because all I could do was cry with her. It was a hour before we could talk rationally.

"This is just a home test, honey. I'll be seeing the doctor tomorrow to make it official. I'll call first thing after I know."

"No you won't. I'll be going with you tomorrow."

I was gently rubbing her tummy. She grinned. "You can't feel anything yet. You know I test myself every two weeks, so this is fairly recent. It's a boy, though. I can feel it."

I pretended to frown. "I was hoping for a little girl. If it is a boy, can we try again?"

Her smile got wider. "Yes, I'd like to have one more and I hope we get a set, but if they're both boys, or girls, I'm sure we'll love them just as much. Two's my limit, even though I'd like to have a houseful. I'll be 33 by the time I'll be pregnant again, and that's a little long in the tooth."

I agreed instantly, not willing to risk her health or that of a child. Two would be plenty.

The doctor confirmed the good news the next day, set us up on a regular schedule of visits, gave us information on different birthing techniques and classes, and sent us on our way.

I wanted to wait a while to disclose the news, but she told everyone at the monthly family dinner a week later. All my grandmothers, my Chinese mother and father, and most of my friends dissolved into tears. When we announced if it was a girl it would be named after the woman who started me down this path, Grandma Greely almost fainted and found herself surrounded by three generations of women, none of who were related to me but everyone as much a part of my family as any blood relative. Sandy wanted the middle name to be Rose as a tribute to her late mother. Celia Rose Moore had a definite ring to it.

Chapter 20

I was in the middle of contract negotiations for a third and fourth store in other cities. Michael and Miguel had given up any active part in their respective social organizations, and both had associate business degrees in business management specializing in the food service sector. I'd used the grandmothers and extended family to push them into the situation but truth be told, it didn't take much.

Miguel was the point man in one city, Michael in the other. I did visit both twice a week to review progress and suggest things. Ms. Chen was their guide and between us, we kept them on an even keel. They had traveled with me before, knew the ropes and did really well. They were vice-presidents of my corporation.

They had learned from watching us, and could speak with a professional demeanor. If things got stressed, though, they sometimes resulted to attitudes and behaviors learned on the street.

One contractor called me, pissed beyond words. "I refuse to deal with street trash! They have no idea how business works and I will not be dictated to like this."

"Let me ask you something. If you found out someone was trying to steal from you, would you be polite? Or would you take charge of the situation and get the thief eliminated? That's exactly what they're trying to do. We discovered your deal with the suppliers and tradesmen to pad costs fifteen percent. I know we have a contract, but I'll let you out of it if you voluntarily leave. Balk, and the unions, cops and lawyers get involved. You're lucky they didn't kick your ass on general principles. You have one day."

One of Ms. Chen's lawyers who just happened to also be a CPA found the hustle. It was Miguel's project, but as soon as he found out he called Michael for support. It did not go well for the contractor. He will never realize how close he came to a first class ass kicking. As it was, he did withdraw, leaving a lot of workers pissed and unions asking pointed questions. Any project he bid on in the future would be examined very closely.

Those two would make a total of five, in three states. I was getting in over my head. I promised my wife when she hit four months I would put all expansion plans on hold unless my group could handle it without me. She said I should still work and I told her I was working, on the biggest project of my life: learning how to be the best most loving father and husband humanly possible. Of course, she responded by crying.

Chapter 21

Ms. Chen took me to task. Seems I wasn't paying as much attention to my businesses as I should.

"I've got good people, Mom. I'm just a bit preoccupied right now."

"News flash honey. Women have babies every day and the world doesn't stop revolving because of it. You have an even bigger duty now, besides Mickey, you'll now have a little one. You need to look to their futures."

"I understand your logic, and while women have children every day, they don't have mine. I'd like to savor every step, if you don't mind."

She smiled. "You don't think I'm looking forward to another grandchild? I get a bonus with this one because it's a girl and I'll be there for every step of her childhood. Gregory (her husband) is obsessing already, looking into childproofing the house. We have her bedroom picked out and are decorating it. It will be done before she's even born. Still doesn't stop me from running my firm. Tuesday, one, sharp."

I appeared at the appointed time and spent three hours going over figures. I was amazed at the wealth I had already accumulated, and with the addition of two more stores my profit, after taxes and salaries, would be a surplus of about a million three, a year.

"What are we going to do with all that money?"

Mom and the accountant laughed. "You're going to keep expanding. You haven't gone unnoticed and many are copying your business model, but there are plenty of opportunities out there. With your proven track record, cities will be more inclined to work with you than your competitors. Our suggestion is you keep expanding in the Southeast until you reach saturation, then go West."

"How many stores are we talking here?"

The CPA pulled up a chart on her computer. "I think you should concentrate on two a year for the next five years. After that, if my model is accurate, you should up it to five. In twenty years you have the capability of being one of the top three chains in the country."

I threw them for a loop. "What if I don't want to be that big?"

"Then you've missed a golden opportunity. Think of how many could benefit, how many people you could get off the streets, keep kids away from crime and turn them into successful businessmen, role models for their communities. You didn't really consider the impact of your actions when you started, but look at the good it's done. Look to your grandmothers, destined to live out their lives in dangerous apartments, scraping by on Social Security. Think they don't appreciate what you've done for them?"

She had me there. Apparently she was on a roll, giving me facts she had obviously holding back while Mom grinned. "Speaking of helping people, you need to start a charitable arm. It's a great tax shelter and you could really do some good. I suggest you start off simple, say with a scholarship program for aspiring lawyers. Just two will be sufficient for right now. I have the paperwork ready, if you're interested."

I left it hanging until she got nervous. "All right. $500,000 to start. That should handle the scholarships with plenty left over. And make the scholarships all inclusive, tuition, room and board, and a monthly allowance for incidentals like gas, clothes, that sort of thing. I'm putting you in charge for right now, but I expect I'll be pretty active as time passes. I think that sometime soon I'll want to add programs for food service scholarships, at least at the associate level. And I'd like to do some kind of program for disadvantaged youth but we'll talk about it later. We done here?"

I grinned as I left, their mouths hanging open. I had thought about a charity before, but never had time to pursue it. Now that it was handed to me on a platter, I had no excuse.

Chapter 22

I couldn't stop smiling. True to my word, I had almost stopped traveling completely: home every night with my wife. I still worked from the building I'd found to use as corporate headquarters. We bought it for practically nothing and renovated it completely; leasing the space we didn't need as soon as it was available. Mom was pushing me to look at some warehouse space, hinting we would probably need it in the near future as a distribution center.

I'd had to hire administration people to help keep track of everything. Good people mostly. The law of averages said I was going to find one or two bad apples, and when I did they went away as quickly as possible.

I hooked Michael and Miguel into helping me with charity work. They became involved in neighborhood outreach programs, concentrating on middle schools. They were at that age when the world around them was coming into focus but were young enough to still be reached. I went with them a few times to see them work.

Miguel always dressed well but informally, but Michael went the full route. His standard attire was a three-piece suit, matching tie over a white shirt, his shoes gleaming. He'd developed the habit of wearing a fedora, and I had to admit he looked sharp.

They would talk about general things to warm them up before they got into the meat of their presentation. "I want you to look at us, really look. Yeah, we dress well, but underneath the clothes, despite what we've accomplished, we're still just guys from the hood. Before we started this our lives were on a far different track."

Two photos flashed up on the screen behind them. Mug-shot photos of each. While they looked at the pictures Miguel and Michael would be taking off their coats and shirts, leaving them in white "wife-beater" tees, showing off their tattoos complete with gang tags.

"This was us before we turned our lives around. If we had kept on the path we walked, we would be dead or in jail by now. We were rivals, so it might have been one of us killing the other. I want you to think about this and ask you something. How many gang members do you see on the streets over the age of thirty, or even twenty-five? Not a lot. They're either dead or in jail. Is that the future you want? We got out, and you can, too. Think about it. If you need help or want to reach out to someone, you have our cards. Call, and someone will come. It might not be us because we travel regularly, but it will be someone, and they'll be there fast to help with whatever you need."

Then it was my turn to speak. "I want you to know that if I hadn't had a flat tire in a bad neighborhood my life would be totally different now. I'd probably still be a factory worker and a part time farmer. It would have been a life I was happy with, I believe, but I like the one I have now so much more. Not because of the money, although I like being successful, but because of the good I've been able to do.

If I hadn't broken down that day, I'd still be a country boy, avoiding towns, especially the 'bad' neighborhoods. I believed what I saw on television, that inner city neighborhoods were places to avoid at all cost. But I did have to stop, and I met an older black woman who changed my life completely. I'd like to say I changed hers as well. Now, despite her age, she's a successful businesswoman with an interest in many businesses.

"I hired my first employee there: the woman's granddaughter, a fifteen year old mixed-race child who was nervous around a white man. Seven years later, she's still with me, a college graduate and a manager at one of my stores. Miguel and Michael became my friends, first, before they started working for me, and now I don't think I could be as nearly successful without them. The lessons I learned are that no matter what your age and race, you have value. And most importantly, no matter what your background, you can change your life for the better. Think about it."

We knew that if we were lucky we would reach about 10% of those children. But if we did, and they became successful, then maybe they could reach another ten per cent, and it would snowball from there. I liked to think so, anyway.

Chapter 23

I had just returned from one of our talks. It had been a good session and I was on top of the world when I walked in to the restaurant. Sandy and I ate lunch together nearly every day, a standing date. Her bulge was obvious, and her regulars asked for updates, often. A few wanted to hold a shower for her, and she responded by inviting them to the one the Grandmothers were planning. She'd just won Restaurant of the Year from the city, and I promised to hang a copy in my office alongside the awards I'd won over the years.

A couple of young guys followed me in but I paid them no attention. Her prices were reasonable enough for most all to eat there and it was always a mixed crowd. I didn't realize anything was wrong until I heard a gasp from her hostess. A shotgun boomed.

I turned slowly, glad Sandy was in the kitchen. There were two of them early twenties or late teens. You could tell from the looks on their faces that at least one was high and the other needed a fix, judging from the way his hands were shaking I slowly raised my hands. The boys started screaming about this being a robbery and everyone needed to stay cool.

"All right. Everyone needs to be cool. Ginny, open the till and step back. It's only money."

She did what I said, and one slung the shotgun over his shoulder and started shoveling the money into a bag. The other held what looked like a military rifle, waving it in the general direction of the patrons.

Sandy had been in the freezer when the shot rang out. She looked thought the kitchen doors and was out before she thought. "What the hell's going on here?"

It wasn't a shout, but it was pretty damn loud. Sadly, she had a large knife in her hand and the kid with the rifle flipped out. It was fully automatic and he nearly cut her in two emptying the magazine. I rushed for her even as the other guy was screaming for me to stop. I felt the bullet strike me and it knocked me forward. I slid until I was next to my wife. The light was going out of her eyes but she smiled, whispering "I love you" through the blood that frothed around her mouth. Then she was gone. I went into what can only be described as a blind rage.