The next day Trevor asked Carla for walnuts, dried apricots, hard cheese, bread, and a box of milk that didn’t need refrigeration. She was in Angelina’s kitchen, adding sliced mushrooms to barley soup.
“Don’t tell me you already ate all the apples and two pounds of peanut butter!” Carla’s steam-dampened, curling hair widened her big round face as she jabbed a pudgy finger at Trevor’s punctured chest.
“Carla darling,” Trevor asked, “you vexed?”
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Angelina clattered down the bottom few steps. “Trevor, were you the one who advised Carla to move in with Marc Swift again?”
Trevor looked at Carla who was roly-poly. Seeing his appraisal, she shoved Angelina. “Can’t you just shut up about that? It’s all you ever talk about.”
Angelina sat at the counter and sighed. “Honey, you’re a full time restaurant owner. You’ve invented, and eaten, countless extra meals all winter. By yourself.”
“So I’m fat. Nuff said?” She grabbed her jacket and stomped outside.
“Wh’appen to pretty little Carla? Maybe Ya-Ya can fix it with nice clothes.”
“That’s an idea. I’ll ask Ya-Ya to fill the store with pretty smocks and stretchwear.”
Angelina owned the boutique in Biltmore Village where Ya-Ya worked. And ever since Trevor met Angelina, who he had transformed from “Nancy,” she had evolved from a lumbering, asexual person into a robust and curvy woman.
Less than a year ago, Carla had been slender. Angelina narrowed her eyes. “Hollis has enlisted Carla in several dance classes and spring is coming. It’s not your trouble, Trevor. But have you looked at Kaya lately?”
“Kaya’s no fatty. I’ve seen her.”
“You certainly have, darling. And ever since you hopped naked into our bed, she dreams of you, not me.”
“Angelina, Kaya’s your beloved lady. She told me so.”
“Well, she hasn’t started dying her hair to impress me.” Angelina fingered her snow white locks.
“Hush, Angelina. I-and-I didn’t break any laws. You only heard the truth ’bout Chief Babylon because we were stripped to bare bones and you know it.”
“Yeah. You’re right about that, Trevor. I wouldn’t have listened. So what’s all this food you want?”
“I meditate in the woods every evening now. The food’s in case I feel like staying there.”
Angelina pinched her upper arm. “Is Jacob’s latest crop making us eat like maniacs? Always before his ganja lifted us right up, no side effects.”
“Ask him. Jacob’s buds get purer and purer. The reason Carla’s chubby is because Marc colds up on her. Carla gets soft and fat and he feels hard and strong. I never told Carla, ‘Go back to him.’ Just, Jah know, ya can’t live with me.”
Angelina nodded and sighed. She packed all the food Trevor could carry and offered to drive him wherever he wanted. Wanting to keep the place a secret, he thanked her, saying he’d rather leg it.
Hoisting his pack, he said, “But if you and Carla go to the boutique tomorrow, can ya drop me off at Miller’s Music? Teddy’s got some new instruments for us.”
A little later, as darkness fell, Trevor climbed the hilltop. Outside Polly’s tree, he unpacked the food and laid it in a semi-circle while stepping aside and singing Bob Marley’s “Nice Time.”
After the first verse, however, Polly yelled at him. “Go away and don’t come back.”
“I brought you some smoke, Polly.”
“And rolling papers?”
“Yah, sweetie. Matches and a flashlight, too.”
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