The restaurant folks had put up a Christmas tree by the front entrance. It was so big, it blocked the view of the tables in the middle of the room. I had to step around it to see the main dining area better. I scanned the place for a few seconds and didn’t see the waitress I was looking for. What I did see made me do a double take. As brazen as could be, there was Odell sitting at a table with Betty Jean and them three little boys. And it was the same table I seen them at when I busted him. I couldn’t believe my luck. Joyce wouldn’t have to hear no secondhand story from none of them waitresses. All the evidence was right in front of us. I stepped a little to the side so she and Yvonne could move forward and see what I seen.

Joyce froze. She stood in her spot as stiff and straight as a bean pole. “W-who are those people with my husband?” she asked in a raspy tone. She looked from me to Yvonne and back at Odell’s table. I didn’t have to answer her question. Odell draped his arm around Betty Jean’s shoulder and leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

It was what he said loud enough for us to hear that put the nail in his coffin. “Boys, y’all better stop fussing and finish your supper before you make Daddy go out and break a switch off one of them trees.”

While Odell was wiping snot off the youngest boy’s nose, the middle boy asked, “Daddy, you still taking us Christmas shopping tomorrow?”

Joyce didn’t wait long enough to see or hear nothing else. She backed out the door with me and Yvonne moving right along with her. The people in the line had stopped grumbling and was just giving us curious looks now. “Joyce, where you going?” I tried to grab her hand, but she slapped mine away and gave me a hot look.

She stopped moving when we got to the sidewalk. Me and Yvonne stood a safe distance away. We didn’t want to get punched in the nose if she broke loose and took out her anger on us. “W-what . . . what the hell is . . . is all that up in there?” she stuttered, nodding toward the restaurant entrance. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”

“Girl, what you just seen was the real Odell,” I said. “I tried to tell you in the truck that he ain’t the man you think he is.”

Her lips quivered, her eyes blinked, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Then how come when I asked you about it, you said ‘nothing’?”

“Because I wanted you to see it up close instead,” I explained.