Lessons From a Younger Lover (21 page)

“When's she coming, Daddy?” Isis asked.

“I don't know, Princess.” Ransom looked at his watch. “She's on her way.”

Ransom, Isis, and Gwen sat in a large corner booth at IHOP, where they'd agreed to meet Brea. Ransom had insisted Gwen come, more for his support than his daughter's…and as a witness in case anything crazy went down.

It was two weeks to the day since Ransom had arrived home and found Pam waiting by the curb. Since then he'd talked to his parents and a therapist, and decided that he would take the chance and let Brea visit Isis. But he was taking it one step at a time. Nothing would be changed legally until he was sure Brea was back in Isis's life to stay. And she had to visit on his terms: in a public place, with him and Gwen present. Take it or leave it. She'd taken it. Or so he thought. The more the minutes ticked by, the more he began to think she'd changed her mind.

 

Brea waited for the light to change, eyeing the IHOP in the distance. She knew a lot was riding on this visit—her whole future, in fact. She had succeeded with the first step to getting back with Ransom: showing interest in a relationship with their daughter. As soon as she'd secured Isis's love, she'd begin work on her baby's daddy.

She'd chosen her outfit with this in mind: a light yellow Baby Phat dress that was casual in its design yet accented her in all the right places and looked great against her butterscotch skin. It fell just above her knee, showing off shapely legs further highlighted by flat sandals that laced up midcalf and revealed a fresh pedicure. Her short pixie haircut was flawless, emphasizing her doe eyes, succulent lips, and perfect bone structure. She looked, walked, and acted like a model, and carried herself with a self-assurance tinged with vulnerability that turned heads and melted men's hearts. It had melted Ransom's once, and she was determined it would happen again.

And then there was Gwen, the woman Adam told her was the competition where Ransom was concerned. Brea assumed that's who she'd encountered at Ransom's the other day, and if so, Brea wasn't too worried about her. She had an all right body, but she was no match for Brea James. In fact Adam, whose call to Pam had led to this whole chain of events unfolding, had told Brea that Gwen wasn't the only woman Ransom was seeing. That there was somebody named Carol, and who knew who else. It didn't matter. Brea James was on a mission. And when all was said and done, she intended to be the last female standing.

Brea realized she was frowning and worked to calm down. She and her mother had discussed a strategy for getting Ransom back, and charm was part of the arsenal Pam advised her to use. “You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” Pam had said. “Ransom knows you can be a real pain in the ass. Don't remind him.”

Brea pulled into the parking lot, took one last look in the mirror, and reached into the backseat for the presents she'd bought. She opened the door and then remembered what she'd forgotten. Closing the door, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a bottle of Vera Wang fragrance. She sprayed her pulse points and between her breasts and legs.
Now, I'm ready. I'm about to make it happen
.

 

Gwen, Ransom, and Isis were not the only ones who watched Brea enter the dining area and walk across the room. Everyone in the restaurant paused to watch her pass by. A smile lit up her face as she spotted her targets in the corner booth. When she got to the table, she put down her bag, took off her sunglasses, and held out her arms. “Hey, Ran, baby. Don't I get a hug?”

Ransom was surprised at the emotions he experienced as he stood up and gave Brea a brief hug. He'd forgotten how fine this woman was, how she used to take his breath away with her beauty. He stepped back and allowed Brea to scoot into the booth, between him and Isis.

“Hello, Isis,” Brea said. “You look nice today.”

“Thank you,” Isis said softly, and scooted closer to Gwen.

The action sent a flash of anger through Brea, but she played it off with a big smile.

“Gwen, girl, I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for going off on you the other night. It was that time of the month when we met. You got the wrath of day two, cramps and everything!”

Gwen was quiet a moment, not sure of how to respond to this unexpected contriteness. Where was the hellion who appeared on Ransom's doorstep, and who was this charming, cultured woman sitting at the table? “It was a stressful moment,” Gwen said finally. “I'm glad you're feeling better.”

“Oh, I bought gifts for everybody. Hand me that bag, Ran.”

Gwen hated the way Brea called him “Ran.” Hated it because it sounded sexy, personal, familiar. It was spoken as a term of endearment, and reminded Gwen of their intimate history as much as Isis ever could. The thoughts unnerved her, as did Brea's poise, good looks, and most of all, youth. The woman didn't look like she'd ever had a pimple or a bad hair day. Men had probably eaten out of her hand her whole life.

Brea reached into the bag and gave a gift box to Ransom. “For you.” She reached in again, pulled out a smaller box, and gave it to Gwen. “And you.”

“Me?” Now Gwen was truly in shock. “Really, Brea, you didn't have to get me anything.”

“Aw, girl, it's nothing,” Brea answered, in a tone one would use in conversation with a best friend. “Besides, it looks like you've taken excellent care of Ran and my daughter. We appreciate it, huh, Ran?” The hand she laid on his thigh was placed there so casually, and so naturally, no one knew how to react. After an awkward moment, Ransom shifted, gently taking her hand and placing it on the cushioned bench. Brea laughed away the gesture; her point had been made.

“And now you, Miss Isis. Mama got you a
few
presents.” She winked at Isis as she reached into the bag and pulled out the first box, which contained a toy called Illustory, where the child writes and illustrates her own book. “Mama told me about your drawings,” Brea explained. “And how smart you are. I thought you might like it.”

The table was silent as Isis examined the gift.

“Well, do you?” The vulnerability in Brea's voice was real, and unmistakable.

Isis nodded.

“Whew, good! I was hoping you would! Now, the next one.” Brea's gifts for Isis included a giant word game, a princess mosaic, and two fashionable and age-appropriate outfits.

“I already know these,” Isis said with excitement when she opened her last present, a magnetic puzzle map of the United States. “We learned them in Miss Gwen's class.”

“Well, that's good, baby. Because your mama sure doesn't know where all those states go on the map.”

“You don't?”

Brea shook her head. “But I'd love for you to teach me. Do you think you could?”

Isis nodded her head yes, obviously proud to be granted the teacher role.

“Do you think you could do one more thing for me? Can I have a hug?”

Isis didn't hesitate. She scooted over and placed her arms around Brea's neck. Brea teared up as she hugged her daughter for the first time in such a long time. “Thank you, baby,” she whispered when Isis finished. “That was a really good hug.”

The waitress came to take their orders and for the next hour and a half, Brea endeared herself to Ransom and Isis with tales of her time in New York, Paris, and Milan. Isis seemed enthralled, particularly when Brea spoke of flying on planes and skating on ice. Even Gwen laughed at Brea's bold antics, after being begrudgingly impressed with the learning gifts she'd bought Isis.

The topic then turned to Ransom, with Brea telling Isis what it was like when her father modeled. The conversation included a lot of “Remember that, Ran?” and underscored his and Brea's shared history. Ransom and Brea went down memory lane: how big Brea got with her pregnancy, the quick labor that almost resulted in a parking lot delivery, Isis's first birthday, and how both of them were there when she took her first step. The longer they shared, the more Gwen felt like the outsider. She noticed Isis stayed closer to Brea now, playing with Brea's fashionably clunky bracelet and watching her talk. And there was one more thing Gwen noticed. After telling a funny story, Brea fell out laughing. Once again, her hand came to rest on Ransom's thigh. This time, he did not move it off.

Gwen slapped blindly at the ringing alarm clock. For the second night in a row, she hadn't slept well. It hadn't mattered so much on Saturday night; she made up for it by staying in bed until ten Sunday morning. But today, Monday, duty called.

The reason for Gwen's sleeplessness could be summed up in two words: Brea James. A month had passed since the meeting at IHOP and in that time Brea had seen Isis every week. After the second meeting, when Gwen felt even more like a third leg than she had at the restaurant, she told Ransom it was important that the three of them—Ransom, Isis, and Brea—spend time together. It was one of the hardest suggestions she'd ever made but Gwen knew if she and Ransom continued anything long-term, Brea would be a part of their lives. Gwen would have to trust the strength of the bond she and Ransom shared. The last thing Gwen wanted to be was a paranoid, insecure nag who came between a woman and her child.

For his part, Ransom had been as loving as ever, and very open and forthcoming with what was transpiring between him and Brea. Isis had warmed up to her mother, he said, and seemed to grow more comfortable around her with every visit. Brea had asked to take her to LA to spend the weekend with her and Pam, but Ransom wasn't ready for that yet. So for the past two weeks, Brea had visited Isis at Ransom's home. Gwen told herself that Brea's visits were the right thing for Isis, and that it didn't matter that these visits took away from the time she and Ransom spent together. She told herself this often, especially on those alone nights when Brea, Ransom, and Isis were creating the family portrait. She told herself…but she didn't believe it.

Throwing back the covers, Gwen stumbled out of bed. She walked into the kitchen and put on a rare pot of coffee, then took a quick shower. Thirty minutes later, Gwen was dressed and ready when the doorbell rang.

“Miss Gwen, Miss Gwen! Look what Mommy bought me!” Isis bounded into the room wearing a pair of bright red pants with a matching top that boasted primary colors in geometric designs. Her tennis shoes were made out of a suedelike designer fabric, and lit up with every step. These were the presents Isis excitedly showed her teacher.

“Those are very nice,” Gwen said. She walked over to Ransom, who had come into the house behind his bubbly daughter. “Hey, you,” she said, and kissed him lightly.

“Guess where we're going?” Isis continued, still bouncing around so her shoes could glow.

“I have no idea.”

“Universal Studios! Me, Mommy, Daddy…and Tianna's coming too!”

Memories of their trip to the theme park assailed Gwen: the shared laughter on rides, fun meals, steamy nights…. Gwen forced away the feeling of melancholy and fixed a smile on her face.

“Well, I know you are going to have a very good time!” She turned to Ransom. “Time for a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, baby, there's something I want to talk about with you anyway.”

Gwen's heart flip-flopped but she kept a calm outward appearance. “Isis, you left your book last time. It's on the dresser in my bedroom. Want to get it?” After Isis ran toward Gwen's bedroom, Gwen walked into the kitchen. Ransom followed behind.

Gwen poured herself a second cup of coffee along with Ransom's. She poured a liberal amount of chocolate caramel creamer in both cups and handed one to Ransom. “What's up?” she asked, after taking a tentative sip.

Ransom sighed and took a sip as well. “It's Brea. She wants to move here.”

Later, Gwen would pride herself on how calmly she took this news. She wanted to put her hands on the side of her face and scream like the kid in
Home Alone
. But she didn't. She simply leaned back against the counter, took another sip of coffee, and said, “Really?”

“Yeah, she's planning on looking for a place this weekend, maybe over at Sienna Heights.”

“Where Carol lives? Well, that should liven up the neighborhood.”

“Tell me about it. But it's not like there are that many apartment choices here. And Isis would have Kari and some of the other kids to play with when she visits Brea.” Ransom put his cup down and walked to the door that led to the backyard. He stared out at the early December morning and continued. “She wants us to go back to court and reestablish joint custody.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don't have a problem with Isis and Brea having a relationship. Isis was always a happy child, but she's blossomed even more since Brea came back.”

“But do you think Brea will be happy here? She's used to bright lights, big city. None of that is happening in this town.”

“She says it's what she wants. To be near Isis.”

Or is it to be near you?
“What will she do for work? Drive to Lancaster?”

“She says she's got money saved from the last couple shoots and runway shows she did. That'll last for a minute here. About the only good thing about this small town is the cost of living.”

“Well, Ransom, I hope everything works out the way you want, and in the best interest of Isis.”

“I think everything will work out all right. Just so long as…”

Gwen waited, but when Ransom didn't finish, she prompted. “So long as what?”

“Never mind.” Ransom finished his coffee, walked over to the sink and set his cup in it, and then turned to Gwen. “Now, can I get a little more chocolate from those sweet, juicy lips before I leave?”

Ransom kissed Gwen, slowly, lazily. He ran a hand across her shoulders and felt their tenseness.

“Hey, what's this?” he asked, as he kneaded her shoulders and ran strong fingers along her spine and the nape of her neck. “Oh, don't worry, Butterfly. Brea being here won't change us.” He underscored his statement with an intense hug.

Gwen savored being enveloped in Ransom's strong arms. Still, she couldn't help feeling that the relationship ground beneath them, which had felt a tremor with the visits of Isis's mother, was getting ready to experience a straight up earthquake as soon as Brea moved to town.