Sin in Soul's Kitchen by Andrew Oye

Author:Andrew Oye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2009-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Oh, yeah…uh, right.” Kayla quickly stood and walked to the hallway. “I’m hooking up with a cutie I met at the bookstore today,” she lied. “See ya.”

In his comfy nest of an office, Thad sat in his leather chair behind a big mahogany desk next to a straw cabinet housing an old-school record player and a collection of vinyl albums. He drew inspiration from his wall collage of picket signs, protest message buttons, and old black-and-white pictures of platform-heeled sisters and soul brothers in zoot suits, beads, and tie-dyed dashikis.

Thad had spent hours upstairs in the supper club’s office that Monday evening, counting the contents of the moneybags in the safe, agonizing over his idea, and practicing his pitch several times. He had listened to the rhthym-and-blues and classic soul station for motivation, even singing along when he could. Finally, he turned down the stereo, took a deep breath, and dialed his parents’ Virginia home.

“Carmichael residence.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Junior.”

“How’s everything on your side?”

“Fine. Perennial has picked new clients with the summer conventions and all. You know how it gets. How are things with you?”

“The supper club is great, but Chelsea’s not taking our breakup well. I think it’s affecting her mentally.”

“I always thought that girl was a little loopy, but I hoped you’d marry the woman who bore your children. For all Chelsea’s quirkiness, I’m impressed that she yanked your father to New York because she was worried about you. I admire her willingness to try anything to get you back in our good graces.”

“Mom, other motives drove Chelsea to do that. You saw what she was so worried about. The supper club. You saw it, and you said you love NRK.”

“Oh, excuse me, ‘NRK’? Is that the hip way you refer to it? Well, I do love NRK, Junior.” Then her voice changed. “But I think it was the dishonesty that robbed us, including Chelsea, of some of the joy in it. Your father says, with or without you, he plans to push forward with the New York expansion of his business.”

“Good for him. I don’t want his plans thwarted because of me. How’s Birdie?”

“All she can do is rant and rave about performing at your club.”

“Great. Hey, have you finished that urban landscape painting?”

“Almost. I still work on it in the basement on weekends.”

“Tell Dad to pick up the line, too. I have a proposition.”

“Cole, grab the phone. It’s Junior.”

Thaddeus Senior came on the line. “Hi, Junior. How’s business?”

“Things couldn’t be better, Dad.” Replying with exaggerated enthusiasm helped to quench Thad’s feeling that maybe his father had expected to hear a negative update. “Subconscious Soul is arranging meetings with music industry contacts, bringing major publicity to the club.”

“Have you boys looked into the fire and theft insurance like I told you?”

“Yes, Saadiq is on top of that,” Thad lied, hoping Saadiq had, in fact, responded to his repeated requests to research the insurance policies.

“What’s this talk about Cynthia performing up there again?” Thaddeus Senior asked. “I’ve had my fill of her neverending chatter.

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