Harvest Moon (14 page)

“Doesn’t the child know I only have two films to my credit?”

“Tell that to a six-year-old.”

“I can’t go back with you tonight. Arianna and I have plans to do some shopping in the morning. What I’ll do is come up to Boca during the week and stay for a few days.”

Regina handed Ana to her mother, then spent the next four hours relaxing, eating, laughing, and interacting with her many cousins. Everyone waited for their food to settle before they retreated to the pool house to change into swimwear.

Arianna and Tyler stood at the edge of the Olympic-size pool, their arms hanging limply at their sides as an eerie hush settled over the assembly. Regina glanced at her parents, who stood together, arms around each other. She smiled behind the lenses of her sunglasses, but at the same time an emotion she identified as jealousy welled up in her chest.

Her parents were still in love, and the man she had fallen in love with was thousands of miles away. She had seen Martin and Parris’s furtive glances when they did not think she noticed, and on more than one occasion she saw her father caress her mother’s body in a way that made her feel she was spying on them. Parris Simmons had been twenty-two when she met Martin Cole for
the first time, but had to wait ten years before she could claim him as her husband and a father for her daughter.

Closing her eyes briefly, she tried imagining it was Aaron she had been married to, and not his father. Instead of becoming Oscar Spencer’s widow she would be Aaron Spencer’s wife, and probably the mother of his child or children. She opened her eyes, frowning. She did not want to think about Aaron, any more than she wanted to love him.

All thoughts of him vanished as she watched her brother and sister dive into the pool. Moving closer, she was transfixed by the form and speed of Arianna as she sliced through the water like a silent torpedo. There was complete silence, everyone watching her swim to the opposite end of the pool, turn, then push off to return. Arianna was halfway across the pool before her brother made his turn.

David Cole extended a hand to his niece, helping her from the water, and handing her a towel. He shook his head in amazement. “Martin, are you certain your daughter doesn’t have webbed feet?” he teased with an attractive, lopsided smile.

Arianna blotted water from her short hair, grinning broadly. “Anyone want to race?” Despite the exertion, she was breathing normally. She pointed to her uncle with the silver-blond hair. “How about it, Uncle Josh?”

Joshua Kirkland waved a delicate hand. “Too full.”

She snapped the towel in his direction. “Too full, or too frightened?”

Joshua gave her a warm smile. “Too old,” he confirmed. “Why don’t you challenge some of the younger guys?”

Arianna stalked her young male cousins. “Come on, guys. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a
girl
?” She encountered silence.

Nancy Cole-Thomas leaned over and whispered in her youngest son’s ear and he stepped forward, pulling his T-shirt over his head.

The setting sun glinted off his brown back. “Let’s go, Ari,” he challenged. He didn’t fare any better than Tyler. She beat him by an even larger margin.

Regina saw the exhibition of Arianna’s prowess as the perfect opportunity to approach her parents. Moving next to her father, she wound her arm through his free one.

“Ari has the makings of a world-class champion,” she said softly.

Martin arched his eyebrows, his impassive expression never changing. “You think so?”

“I
know
so, Daddy.”

“What are you suggesting, Cupcake?”

“You should let her compete.”

“She does compete.”

“She competes locally. That’s not enough.”

Turning his head, he stared down her, meeting her direct stare. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“She needs to follow her dream, Daddy. And that dream is to make the next Olympic team.”

“You think she could make it?”

“I
know
she could. Think of the publicity she would get, too, being an African-American swimmer instead of a runner, gymnast, or a basketball player in the upcoming summer games.”

“That would mean that she would travel with the swim team and—”

“She would be away for a while, but she would always come back home,” Regina interrupted. “I did,” she added quietly.

Curving his arm around his daughter’s waist, Martin pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “You’re right, Cupcake. You did come back home.”

Closing her eyes, Regina prayed for strength. She knew her stay in Florida was to become a short one—she doubted whether she would stay until the end of the year. She had tried filling her days and nights with activity when she redesigned her mother’s
flower garden and spent hours in her grandparents’ formal gardens, but when she least expected it remnants of what she had shared with Aaron filled her thoughts. She felt his invisible pull, binding them together across thousands of miles.

Martin nodded, smiling. “I’ll let her compete. Now, before you dance a jig, tell me what Tyler wants.”

She stared at her father, complete shock freezing her features. “You knew?”

“Of course we knew,” Parris replied, peering around her husband. Her deep, sultry voice was filled with repressed laughter. “We know our children a lot better than they think we do.”

Regina hugged her parents, then kissed their cheeks. “You guys are so cool.”

Parris affected a frown. “Your father and I aren’t that
cool
. What we’ve come to realize is that Tyler and Arianna are growing up, and we have to do whatever it takes to help them fulfill their destinies. I’d love to have my children with me forever, but that’s not realistic. You’ll be faced with the same dilemma once you have your own children,” she predicted sagely.

I hope I won’t
, she prayed silently. If or when she ever became a mother, she hoped she would remain objective enough to know when to let go.

Bahia, Brazil

A
aron Spencer lounged on a chair in his study, staring at the images on the television screen. He could not remember how often he had viewed
Silent Witness
since he had ordered a copy of the movie two weeks ago, but after the first half-dozen times he activated the mute button on the remote and only watched the flickering images. There was no need for him to hear the dialogue, because he had memorized every line.

When the camera first captured the image of a seventeen-year-old Regina Cole walking through the AeroMexico terminal, he’d caught and held his breath until a lack of oxygen forced him to release it. It was as if her face and body made love to the camera. He’d been transfixed by the sultry sound of her voice, the way she moved, and her unabashed innocence. He did not know why, but he felt betrayed whenever he watched her love scenes with her costar, and had begun fast-forwarding those segments.

He had returned to Bahia and fully immersed himself in his work at the hospital, the research institute, and his coffee plantation. His foreman had predicted an excellent yield for an April or May harvest. What he could not do was erase the memory of Regina Spencer from his mind. She haunted his days, as well as his nights, and there were times when he sat up all night, only to fall asleep with the sunrise.

This night was to become one of those.

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Regina left her bed for the first time in twenty-four hours, showered, shampooed her hair, and changed into a pair of sweatpants with an oversize T-shirt. She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea sweetened with honey and flavored with a slice of lemon when her mother walked in.

Parris gave her a warm smile. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

She nodded, grimacing as a wave of dizziness swept over her, bringing with it chills while leaving a layer of moisture on her brow. “A little.”

Parris sat down at the table, peering closely at her daughter and noticing the hollows under her high cheekbones. She had lost weight. Placing the back of her hand against her forehead, she frowned.

“You feel a little warm. I’m going to call the doctor for an appointment.”

Regina felt too weak to protest. Whenever her stomach churned and rejected its contents, she was left feeling lethargic and listless during the aftermath of several violent retchings.

“I’m going back to bed,” she murmured, pushing to her feet. She met her father as he walked into the kitchen, tightening a silk tie under the collar of a pristine white shirt.

He stopped and kissed her damp hair. “Still under the weather, Cupcake?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, moving slowly in the direction of her bedroom.

She flopped down across the bed, willing the tea to stay down. Her stomach settled itself, and she let out her breath slowly. She had been back for six weeks, and during that time she hadn’t had a menstrual flow. She hadn’t told her mother, but she did not need a doctor or anyone else to tell her that she was carrying Aaron Spencer’s child. And she also knew exactly when it had occurred—the night she had offered him her virginity.

Regina waited until she was seated in the car with her mother, then disclosed the doctor’s findings. “Congratulations. You’re going to be a grandmother.”

Parris’s hand froze as she attempted to put the key in the car’s ignition. “How? Who? Where?” The three words came out in a staccato cadence. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she turned toward her daughter.

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” Regina replied flippantly, then sobered when she saw a warning cloud settle on her mother’s usually pleasant features.

“I’m sorry,” she continued in a softer tone. “The who is Aaron Spencer. And the where was in Mexico.” Parris’s astonishment was apparent when her delicate jaw dropped slightly. “We hadn’t planned for it to happen, but circumstances being what they were we became emotionally as well as physically involved with each other.”

“Do you love him?”

Closing her eyes, she nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Not long at all,” Regina admitted. “We spent a total of five weeks together.”

Letting out her breath in an audible sigh, Parris managed a
knowing smile. She had been more than familiar with young love. “You’re good. It took me about two weeks to fall in love with your father.”

Regina smiled for the first time since hearing the doctor confirm her suspicions. “That’s because he saved your life. Daddy was your hero.”

Her father had saved her mother’s life when her ex-husband tried to drown her after she had rejected his advances for a reconciliation. What she hadn’t verbalized was that Aaron had become
her
hero, protecting her from all seen and unseen. With him she was safe.

“And he still is,” Parris admitted. “Does Aaron know that you love him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t tell him.”

“Do you know if he loves you?”

“He said he did, but I don’t know about now. I left him without saying goodbye.”

Parris touched her daughter’s cheek. “What’s going to happen now? I hope you’re going to tell him about the baby.”

Biting down hard on her lower lip, Regina turned to stare out the side window. “I’ve decided to tell him in person.”

Parris closed her eyes briefly, willing the tears welling up behind her eyelids not to fall. “When are you leaving?”

“In a couple of weeks,” she replied noncommittally, twisting the circle of diamonds around her finger.

“What about marriage?”

A slight frown furrowed her forehead as she turned to meet her mother’s gaze. A shaft of sunlight highlighted the green in Parris’s clear brown eyes, reminding Regina of a pairing of brilliant emeralds and warm golden topaz.

“I’m not going to marry a man just because I’m carrying his child.”

Parris opened her mouth, then closed it just as quickly. Whatever impasse Regina would have with Aaron Spencer would have to be solved by them. She hoped the man her daughter had chosen to father her child would be puissant enough to withstand Regina’s formidable personality.

Regina’s planned departure from Fort Lauderdale was vastly different than the one of a decade ago. The early morning breakfast she shared with her parents, brother, and sister was filled with laughter and a few ribald jokes about scantily clad women from a normally serious Tyler when he promised to visit her in Bahia during Carnival.

Martin Cole glanced at his watch and stood up. He pushed back his chair. “Let’s go, Cupcake. It’s time we left.” He would drive her to the airport, then return to the offices of ColeDiz International, Ltd. for a monthly board meeting. He looked forward to the meetings because they offered him the opportunity to spend a few days with his half brother. Even though Joshua Kirkland still maintained an apartment in Palm Beach, he preferred living with his family in the Southwest. He had relocated to Santa Fe after he retired from a career as the former decorated Associate Coordinating Chief of the Army’s Defense Intelligence Agency.

Parris also rose to her feet. “And I have to go into the shop this morning.” She had set up an interior design business in nearby Hollywood, Florida, after Arianna entered high school, but had limited her clients to no more than a half-dozen at any given time.

Regina stood up, holding out her arms to her brother and sister. The three hugged tightly while sharing a secret smile, then she walked over to her mother. “I’ll call you as soon as I arrive,” she promised.

“I pray you find a lasting happiness this time.”

“So do I,” Regina whispered.

Parris stared at her, tears filling her eyes, then turned and walked out of the kitchen to grieve in private. Tyler and Arianna stared at their mother’s departing back and followed her.

Picking up her handbag from the countertop, making certain it contained her passport, traveler’s checks, and an ample amount of Brazilian currency, Regina walked out of the house and to the garage, where her father waited beside his car.

Smiling up at him, she said teasingly, “I must have been a Gypsy or a bedouin in another life.”

He dropped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re a lot like I was at your age. It was as if I was living two lives simultaneously, traveling from country to country on business.”

“When did it stop?”

He gave her a smile that reminded her of her own. “After I married your mother.”

She shifted an arching eyebrow. “But I
was
married.”

Martin’s smile faded. “You married the wrong man the first time, Regina.”

“Like my mother?”

He nodded. “I know you’ll get it right the next time.” Opening the passenger-side door, he helped her into the car, then took his position behind the wheel.

Both were silent during the drive to the airport, each lost in their private musings—Martin wishing the best for his willful daughter, Regina trying to imagine Aaron’s reaction when he saw her again. He would notice the most obvious change first, leaving her to tell him of the changes going on within her body. What she did not try to predict was his reaction to the news that he was to become a father.

They arrived at the Fort Lauderdale Airport, she hugging and kissing her father once they neared the security sector. “I love you, Daddy.”

He closed his eyes, smiling. “And I love you, too, Cupcake.”
He opened his eyes, his expression sobering. “I want you to take care of yourself and my grandchild.”

“I will,” she promised.

“If you need me—for anything—I want you to pick up the phone and call.”

“I will,” she repeated.

Those were the last words they shared before she turned and made her way to the area where she would be cleared to board her flight. Half an hour later she was seated in the private jet, en route to Brazil.

Regina stared out the small window, her eyes widening in amazement as the jet lost altitude in preparation for a landing. She had not been able to fathom the size of Brazil with its magnificent Amazon River and awesome rain forest. Observing
Salvador da Bahia
for the first time from an aerial view was something that would stay with her forever. Built on a bluff, Salvador, Brazil’s first capital, overlooked
Bahia de Todos os Santos
.

She recalled Aaron Spencer’s deep voice when he had spoken of the beauty and majesty of the country he had decided to make his home. He had related that eighty percent of Salvador’s two million people were black—as evidenced by the region’s music, art, dance, cuisine, and festivals—but she did not understand why he was still an American. Even though he had lived in the South American country most of his life, he had elected not to relinquish his coveted U.S. citizenship status.

Regina felt the intense heat and humidity the moment she walked out of the
Aeroporto Dois de Julho
following the baggage handler, who led her to an awaiting car. It was the middle of November, and in another two weeks the Brazilian summer season would officially begin.

She ignored the admiring glances men threw her way as she passed them, her attention focused on the driver standing beside the car. He nodded, opened the rear door for her, then closed it.
Settling back against the leather seat, she closed her eyes and inhaled the cool air coming from the automobile’s vents.

Her father’s longtime personal secretary had seen to her travel arrangements, from securing a ninety-day visa to reserving a car and driver for the trip from the airport to Aaron’s home. Philip Trent, ColeDiz’s senior attorney, had made certain funds from her personal account were wired to a Salvador branch of
Banco do Brasil
for her use.

She was prepared to spend three months in Salvador, the capital of the northeast state of Bahia, then return home. The tentative plans she had made to secure her own home and set up a business were delayed because of her impending motherhood.

Thinking of becoming a mother wrung a satisfied smile from her as the driver drove quickly and expertly over cobblestone streets lined with ornate churches from the early sixteenth century.

There were times during her marriage to Oscar when she wished it had been a real one, in which she could actually feel like a wife. She had wanted to share her husband’s bed and also his body, and there were times during the eight years that she thought about having a child. She had then dismissed the notion as quickly as it had come to mind. There would have been no way she could have cared for a child and a terminally ill husband at the same time. And it would not have been fair to Oscar, knowing he would never live to see his child reach adulthood.

A part of Oscar would now live on in his grandchild. Closing her eyes, she placed a slender hand over her flat middle, praying silently for a son, a son who would inherit the gentleness of both his father and grandfather. The rolling motion of the car lulled her into a state of total relaxation, and within minutes she succumbed to the drowsiness that seemed to envelop her now when she least expected it. When the driver turned off the local road and onto the one leading to the da Costa property, she missed the many acres of coffee trees putting forth their abundant yield
for a May harvest. It wasn’t until the car came to a complete stop that she opened her eyes and peered through the glass at the structure Aaron Laurence Spencer called home.

The driver opened the rear door, extended his hand, and pulled her gently to her feet.
“Obrigado,”
she said softly, pleased she had remembered the Portuguese word for thank you. She knew very few words of Portuguese, but her knowledge of Spanish would serve her better than if she didn’t understand any of the language.

Standing beside the car, she waited for the driver to make his way across an open courtyard to the entrance of a two-story, stucco farmhouse with a red-tiled roof. There were several smaller buildings constructed in the same Spanish-Moorish architecture as the main house several hundred feet away, and Regina wondered who or what had occupied these buildings over the years.