After the Loving (8 page)

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Authors: Gwynne Forster

BOOK: After the Loving
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She avoided Russ at breakfast because she knew that, unless he had to catch a plane, he wouldn’t eat before seven-thirty, and usually not before eight. The morning before Alexis and Telford were to return, he was sitting at the table when she got there at seven o’clock.

“With the newlyweds back here tomorrow, you’ll find it much easier to pretend I’m not around, though I doubt your present eating habits will go unnoticed. Henry said you have half a grapefruit, a soft-boiled egg and black coffee for breakfast, and almost the same for lunch. I don’t know how long you plan to continue this, but it’s not healthful.”

“I’m following the advice of a nutritionist.”

“What? What for?”

“Because I want to lose weight. Neither you nor any other man ignores women who look like Alexis.”

“Is that what this is all about? You’ve had her for a sister all your life, and all of a sudden you’re—”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Even you gasped when she arrived at the altar in that sleek wedding gown.”

“You listen to me,” he said, waving his fork at her, “Alexis is Telford’s kind of woman. She’s the type he’s always been attracted to.
But she is not my type.
And while we’re at it, what did you mean by telling me that I am the kind of man you like, describing me and then pretending you said nothing out of the ordinary? That wasn’t a pass—that was an invitation.”

“Was not. You asked me, and I told you the truth. Besides, I didn’t expect you to do anything about it. That would be out of character.”

He leaned toward her. “This isn’t the first time you’ve
challenged me to show you who I am. You want to see me lose control but, honey, if I do, you definitely won’t want to be there.”

She had riled him, and knowing it sent pleasure rippling through her. She had an urge to laugh, but didn’t think it wise and settled for a grin. “Russ, it may not please you to know it, but you cannot possibly frighten me—that is, not unless you jumped from behind a bush on a dark road late at night. I think of you as protective.”

“Really! Protective wasn’t one of the words you used when you were being fresh with me. Any other notions you have of me?”

She put both hands behind her head and winked at him. “Uh-huh. I think you’re sweet as sugar. Uh…I’d better check on Tara.”

“Don’t worry. Grant Roundtree and his father came for Tara a few minutes before you came downstairs. She’s going ice-skating with Grant and spending the day with him. So you can sit here and back up your statement.”

“I don’t remember what I said.” When he stared at her, she said, “Honest, I don’t remember the exact words.”

He leaned back in his chair, let his gaze brush over her and lowered his lashes. If he had wanted to send her blood rushing through her veins, he succeeded admirably. If that weren’t reminder enough of the way he could make her feel, his full bottom lip crooked in a slow grin and wound its way over his face until he erupted in a laugh.

“You think you handcuffed me by telling me I’m honorable. Well, only one perfect person ever walked this earth, so I can slip up occasionally and still bear the title.” He rubbed the back of his neck, pushed back his chair and stood. “If I decide to make you remember your exact words, that won’t change your opinion of me, will it?”

“Who’s that laughing in—” Henry walked into the
breakfast room with his fruit and cereal and stopped when it was clear to him that Russ was the only other man in the room. “Drake ain’t back from Barbados yet, so…” He scratched his head as if in wonder. “That wasn’t you laughing, Russ.”

“Oh, but it was,” she said. “Hearing Russ laugh strikes my ears as birds singing in early spring.”

Henry put his food on the table, went back to the kitchen and returned with a cup of coffee. “Soon as I eat this I’ll be out of the way. Next, somebody’ll tell me pigs fly.”

Russ went to the kitchen, returned with the coffeepot, filled Velma’s cup and his own and took the pot back to the kitchen. “You’re not out of trouble, Miss Brighton,” he said. “You owe me, and I will collect. Trust me. If either of you needs me, I’ll be at the warehouse most of the day.”

Her gaze trailed him as he strolled out of the breakfast room and headed for the stairs. With him away from the house, she would be able to work. In three weeks, she had to pull off a gala for some New Orleans society women. She phoned her local contact to confirm her menu and seating arrangements. Then, she made certain that her usual New Orleans supplier could give her beige cloths and burnt-orange napkins with beige trim for fifty round tables that seated ten people. With hotel reservations, flight and chauffeur arrangements confirmed, she put on her coat and went for a walk along the Monacacy River a quarter mile from Harrington House.

She was thinking how glad she was that Russ had provoked her into buying pants and sweaters, when she saw him, a lone figure in the gray mist of the afternoon standing with his hands in his pants pockets and gazing out at the river. Her first impulse was to leave him to his solitude, to get away before he saw her. But she couldn’t will herself to walk away, for he seemed shrouded in loneliness. She had
not thought of him as a lonely man, but how well did she know him? With plodding steps, she walked toward him, hoping he wouldn’t resent the intrusion. Ten feet away, she stopped and waited for him to acknowledge her presence.

 

He didn’t know how long he stood there. Time had come for him to make changes in his life, changes that would alter the lives of those closest to him. He loved his family, Alexis and Tara included, and he couldn’t think of any place other than Harrington House as home. But to his way of thinking, Alexis was mistress of Harrington House—indeed, she had been since the minute she entered its door—and she should have the right to run it as she pleased. That meant she shouldn’t have to deal with his idiosyncrasies or with Drake’s antics, likable although they usually were. And it was time he went out on his own, away from the safe umbrella of family love.

He wanted a family, but he was already thirty-four, and he’d probably be near sixty when his oldest child was graduated from college. If he was lucky enough to have three children, his seventieth birthday wouldn’t be far away when the last one got an undergraduate degree, and that meant he’d be working until he was ready to fall into his grave.

Velma. He liked so many things about her, not the least of which was the way she made him laugh, their similar taste in music, her pranks, and the way she got fresh with him whenever it suited her. He loved her candidness, and how hot she got whenever he put his hands on her. He’d never come close to feeling for another woman what he felt for her, but did he want to deal with her hang-ups, her wobbly self-esteem?

He already knew one thing about his feelings for Velma: he didn’t want another man to have her. He had resisted
telling Dolphe to shut up and stop tomcatting at Velma, and doing so had drained him emotionally. But he wasn’t ready to show his hand and raise both Velma’s and Henry’s expectations.

His mind wandered back over the years and the comfort he had always found in the love, camaraderie and, later, professional successes with Telford and Drake. They had been together all their lives, and now, he would be the one to split up the trio. He didn’t have to guess how his decision would set with his brothers, but he had to leave the comfort of that cocoon and make a life of his own. Chills skittered through his body as a feeling of loneliness enveloped him.

A snap as if something stepped on a dry twig or stick brought his head quickly around, expecting to see a wild animal. “Velma! What are you doing here? How long have you been here?”

“I came out for a walk. Walking is my favorite sport, and I love to walk alone in the woods when I have the chance. When I saw you, my first impulse was to turn back, not to intrude upon your privacy. But seeing you alone out here on a day like this, I…I couldn’t. If you’d rather be alone, I’ll understand.”

He didn’t tell her that she appeared at the moment he needed her, and he didn’t feel like emptying his heart to her. He reached for her hand to let her know he welcomed her.

“This is one of my favorite places. In the summer, I often sit by the river for hours, working or just straightening things out in my head. I walk in these woods mainly during winter when the foliage is sparse and I can see my surroundings. When I heard your footstep, I prepared myself to deal with a bear, reindeer or some other wild animal. Be careful out here alone.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s getting cloudier. Let’s go home.” As he said the last three words, his gut tightened, but he hoped she attached no significance to it.

When they reached the house, he opened the front door, closed it and looked down at her. “I’m leaving for Baltimore around seven tomorrow morning to meet Telford and Alexis.” He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and looked into the distance. She deserves to know first, he told himself.

“I’d appreciate your confidence in respect to what I’m about to say.” She nodded, an expression of worry clouding her face. “When you visit here again, I will probably have moved into a place of my own, most likely in Baltimore. It’s time I was on my own, and Telford and Alexis need privacy to work on their marriage. I want them to succeed.”

“How strange,” she said, and he thought her bottom lip quivered, meaning she wasn’t certain he would like what she had to say. “I’m giving up my apartment in Wilmington, Delaware, and moving to Baltimore so I can be closer to Alexis and Tara. I signed papers with my real-estate agent yesterday. He’s looking for either a house or a cooperative apartment. It’s time I settled all my interests in one place.”

He certainly had not expected that, but it made sense to move nearer to her only relatives. “What part of the city are you considering?”

“The areas close to Druid Hill Park. I love the big old houses and elegant apartment buildings.”

“Good choice. I’m thinking of the area near the armory. We would almost be neighbors. Let me know if I can help in any way. I’d be glad to examine the building for structural soundness, wiring, plumbing and the like.”

She gazed up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “You would? Really?”

“Of course. Have you forgotten that I’m an architect?”

She shook her head. “I just didn’t connect that with my buying a house. Thanks. You don’t know how much better I feel about it. I’ll call my agent Monday morning and tell him, so he’ll know he’d better not try any hanky-panky with little Velma.”

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I doubt he’d try to hoodwink one of the Harrington brothers. See you later.”

She looked at him for what seemed like a long time, then braced one hand on his shoulder and the other at his nape, tiptoed and kissed his lips. “See you at supper.”

Before he could grab her and settle her against him, she turned away and dashed up the stairs. He hadn’t meant to kiss her and start a fire in his loins, but she wanted the kiss and took it. He lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug.
I can handle that. She has as much right to what she wants as I have to what I want. When a woman wants me, she should let me know it. If I like what she’s offering, she won’t regret it.

 

She spent a while digesting what Russ had just told her. She understood that when she chanced upon him by the river he was ruminating about his life. It no longer surprised her that he had seemed lonely, for he had been. The decision to separate himself from those he loved so dearly—even if he didn’t wear that love on his sleeve—had unsettled him. He might be living within ten blocks of her, walking distance, and it could mean everything or nothing for their relationship. It occurred to her that he was turning over a new leaf and she might not be on the next page. Well, what would be, would be.

She showered, resisted the urge to weigh herself and settled down to finish the last chapter of
Blues from Down Deep.
If only her life would smooth out as Regina and Justin’s did, she mused after finishing the story, she’d be a happy woman. But no longer in daily close proximity to Russ, she doubted that she stood a chance.

I’ve been let down before. I didn’t care nearly as much; I was five years younger, and I bounced back without a whimper. But…
She thought for a minute.
If I plot my own course and follow it, I’ll have no regrets, and I’ll have everybody’s respect—my own foremost.

 

At ten after one the following afternoon, Sunday, she answered her cell phone. “Russ speaking. I’ll be there in three minutes. Please alert Tara and Henry.” He hung up before she could respond. She dashed down to Alexis’s room and pulled Tara away from the piano.

“How long is three minutes?” Tara asked her.

“Less time than it takes to count to fifty. Come with me.”

Tara scooted off the piano bench, clapping her hands. “My mummy is coming home right now.”

She stopped by the kitchen and told Henry. “Let’s wait for them at the front door.” Henry looked at her as one would an unwanted stranger. “You want me to stand out there in the cold on those steps?” At that moment, she heard the toot of Russ’s Mercedes, and she and Tara bolted for the front door.

“Mummy! Mummy!” Tara shouted and raced to the car. Telford headed around the car to open the door for Alexis, but she was out of it before he got there, picked up Tara and hugged her as the child plastered her face with kisses. Almost immediately, however, she wiggled out of her mother’s arms and ran to Telford. “Dad. I thought you
and Mummy were never coming back.” He picked her up and hugged her, swung her around and accepted the kisses that she poured all over his face. When he set her on her feet, he hunkered in front of her. “You’ve grown in just two weeks.”

“Is it all right if I call you Dad?”

Velma’s heart constricted at the smile of joy that covered his face. His love for that little girl shone in his eyes and in his whole face.

“That’s the most precious thing you have ever said to me. It’s what I want you to call me.”

Giggles tumbled out of Tara. “Did you find out what is a honeymoon, Dad?”

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