Knuckle up, Anson. Knuckle the hell up.
Carefully he limped his way down the hall and, surely enough as he reached the pool room and continued past it to his bedroom, the roses and candles awaited his every step. Before he could reach for the door, it opened. Kyra filled the doorway in nothing but a few strategically placed petal bunches.
“Welcome home,” she said with a beguiling smile.
He knew from the soft glow emanating within the room and the sweet scent of roses that more of the same was to be found inside. “Umm, Kyra. I thought we would get a chance to talk first,” he began.
She had been reaching over to stroke his cheek, but her hand paused. She tilted her head to the side. “Talk? You want to talk?” she asked, waving her hand up and down the length of her body and then turning to jiggle her buttocks before swiveling back to face him.
“I just want to apologize for sending you the wrong signals about us,” he said.
Kyra leaned back so far to stare at him that he thought she was squaring up to hit him.
“I really appreciate you coming to help me out this last—”
WHAP!
He was looking dead at her the whole time and still didn’t see the slap coming. “I’m sorry,” he said, his words morphed as he worked his jaw to erase the sting of her hand.
Kyra pushed past him and flew down the hall so quickly that when he looked over his shoulder he saw nothing but errant rose petals floating in the air in her wake.
WHAM.
He stepped inside and quietly closed his bedroom door—a direct opposite of the slam heard around the world. He moved about the room blowing out the candles and retrieved the wastepaper basket to scoop the petals into it.
WHAM.
He didn’t even wince at the slam that time.
He was stretched across his bed counting the random slams here and there—twenty so far—when his door opened. Lifting his head, he was relieved to see his brother. “Thank God,” he said with plenty of emphasis.
“You had to ruin my night because I ruined yours,” Hunter said.
“What’s the plan?” Anson asked, reaching for a pillow to shove under his head as yet another slam echoed through the house.
“Angry rejected ex. Hysterical phone call to horny brother. One ride to Atlanta at ten at night. Thanks,” he said, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed.
Anson didn’t dare to show his brother his relief that Kyra was on a one-way ride back to the ATL.
“Listen, I didn’t know you had your sights on Mona,” Hunter said. “I figured Kyra was your focus.”
“You didn’t know and I should have told you. Not that it’s anything serious . . . but it’s not anything casual either. It’s complicated. I don’t know what it is. I just like her a lot. She makes me look at life differently sometimes,” Anson said, looking up at the ceiling.
“But I’m her soul mate?”
As another slam resonated through the house, Anson gave his brother the abbreviated version of Mona, her “gift,” and the premonition she had of her marrying him.
“Crazy, right?” Anson asked, looking at the odd expression on his face.
“Maybe.”
Anson reached for a pillow and swung it at his brother’s head. “You believe all that?” he asked in disbelief.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said.
“I’ve heard that a lot tonight,” he said before covering his face with his pillow.
“I’m not ready to settle down no matter how fine Mona is—that I do know,” Hunter said.
“I’m ready, Hunter,” Kyra called out to him.
Anson didn’t bother to remove the pillow from his head as he silently counted down. Three . . . two . . . one . . .
WHAM!
“It’s going to be a long-ass ride. Bye, bro.”
Anson removed the pillow. “Hey, Doc, on your way out, please blow out all those damn candles.”
“You want a kidney too or you good?” Hunter asked.
“Drive careful,” he said, before covering his face again.
Anson awakened with a start. He checked the time on the cable box. Two hours had passed in what seemed the blink of an eye. Hunter and Kyra were halfway to Atlanta—if not farther, depending on how much Kyra’s anger motivated his brother.
Anson yawned. He was exhausted still, but he reached for his cell phone and dialed Mona.
“Hello,” Mona said, her voice husky and low.
“You asleep?” he asked.
“Yeah, I finally dozed off a little while ago,” she said. “I just got a lot on my mind.”
“I started to drive back to your place just to check on you, but I fell asleep,” he admitted, picking up the remote to tap lightly against the top of the bed.
“Anson,” she said, her tone chiding him.
“Not on that level. Just to hold you and tell you everything will be okay,” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“I hated to leave you earlier, but I had to come home and handle some things.”
“I bet you did.”
Anson stopped his tapping. “Oh man, come on. Not like that.”
“I believe you,” she said, the sound of a smile in her voice. “But it’s handled?”
Anson smiled. “She and Hunter are two hours outside Atlanta by now.”
“Awwwww,” Mona sighed, obviously sarcastic.
He chuckled. “I should have handled it sooner to avoid hurting her feelings,” he disclosed.
They fell silent. It was comfortable.
“Do you really think you could sleep by me and do nothing?” Mona asked.
“Wouldn’t be easy, but yes . . . yes, I could.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Could you?” he asked.
“It would be hard.”
“As hard as you had it earlier?” he asked, allowing himself to replay the wonders of her mouth against his and down below.
She laughed softly. “See? Sex on the brain.”
“Okay, what’s the last book you read?” Anson asked.
“Aesop Fables.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding doubtful.
“Yes. I was cleaning out a box from my childhood, flipped through some pages reminiscing, messed around, and got caught up.”
Anson climbed off the bed and limped to the bathroom to relieve himself.
“Your bathroom echoes,” she said.
“What do you hear?”
“Lots and lots of pee.”
He laughed as he quickly flushed and then washed his hands.
“Don’t wash them just because I’m on the phone.”
“You might be right,” he said, removing his clothing and limping back into the bedroom completely nude.
He wanted a shower, but he wasn’t willing to get off the phone with Mona to do it. Flinging back the covers, he lay down on his bed and positioned his pillows to elevate his wrist and foot. “I’ll be glad when these casts come off,” he said, enjoying the feel of the cool and crisp cotton sheets against his brown skin. “You really do owe me big time, Miss Ballinger.”
“You turned down my offer to pay your medical bills and to match you up with someone.”
“Does the offer for a match still stand?” he asked, baiting her.
“Uh . . . no,” Mona stressed.
He turned off the bedside lamp. “Why not? You and Hunter are getting hitched,” he said, lying there with just the light of the moon streaming through the windows.
“Not funny, Anson.”
He chuckled. “I kid. I kid.”
“I know you’re new to frivolity and humor, but your funny bone needs some strength.”
He just laughed.
They fell silent again.
Anson glanced at the clock, surprised that they had been on the phone for nearly twenty minutes. The time had slipped by with such ease.
“Does the offer for a sexless sleepover still stand?”
Anson looked over
to the doorway at the sound of Mona’s voice. She stood there with the doorknob in one hand and her phone still pressed to her ear. He hadn’t even heard the bedroom door open.
He thought the vision he saw—light streaming in from one of the sconces of the hallway framing her in the bulky pajamas and fluffy slippers—was one of the most delectable sights ever. “Of course,” he finally said, sitting his phone on the bedside table and then patting the bed beside him.
Mona kicked off the slippers and came around the length of the king-sized bed to climb up onto it on her knees. “I shouldn’t be here, Anson,” she whispered down to him.
Even with just a portion of her features peeking through the shadows, he could see the conflict on her face. He reached up and stroked her jawline with his thumb.
“I couldn’t stay away,” she confessed, pressing her face against his warm hand.
He pulled her down beside him, loving the feel of her face against his chest. He hated that she lay above the covers and he was beneath them, but with her obvious reservations and his nudity, he knew it was for the best.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling her long lashes brush against his chest as she closed her eyes. Soon her body rose and fell with the deep breathing of slumber.
Anson could hardly believe that even though he’d known her such a short time, her lying there in his bed—in his life—seemed so comfortable. So reasonable. So necessary.
Chapter 10
Mona looked out the window of the taxicab at the landscape of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. It wasn’t New Orleans, where her parents had settled, but years ago her family had traveled the eighty miles to Baton Rouge almost weekly to visit with her father’s sisters, so it felt just as much like home. “Thanks for coming with me,” she said, not taking her eyes off the changing scenery.
A hand very similar to her own grasped hers tightly. Comfortingly. “We’ll get this all figured out, Mo. I promise,” Reeba said.
Mona smiled and let her head rest on the back of the seat. “If the twins can’t figure it out, no one can.”
“O-kay? Hey there, bye there,” Reeba said, lightly teasing their aunts’ odd salutations.
“I wish Shara could come.”
“Me too.”
They both fell silent and looked out the windows at the familiar landscapes of the city. But Mona’s mind was on Anson . . . and Hunter. She was in Louisiana looking for a resolution to feeling connected to one brother while believing she was destined to be with the other.
Early that morning as Anson snored in his sleep, she lay there with his arms still around her body, her head on his chest, not wanting to get up. And she waited for the moment that laying there next to his body didn’t feel so necessary. But the longer she relished being near him, the more she felt conflicted by it all.
So she forced herself to leave his warmth, wrote him a note, and quietly left his home. Two hours later she and Reeba were boarding an airplane at the Charleston International Airport headed to Baton Rouge.
“What did the aunts say when you told them we were coming?” Reeba asked.
Mona twisted one of her curls around her pinky. “I didn’t,” she said.
Reeba shook her head. “No one loves surprises but you and Mama. You know the aunts hate that.”
“Yes, but . . . they love us, so it will all be fine as wine. Right?” Mona asked as an afterthought.
“Chile, please. I’m laying that at your door—keep me out of it.”
They had long since left behind the bustling downtown area of Baton Rouge for the more sedate surroundings outside the city limits. Mona sat up as they reached the Iberville Parish, just south of Baton Rouge. Here there were plantations that once housed slaves. Some were in ruins. Others now served as historical landmarks open for tours or were converted to inns.
That was not the case for the Toussaint-Guilliame House.
With just two floors, it was small in comparison to the more noted neighboring plantations, but it was just as grand in its Greek Revival architecture. Slaves had once dwelled and even helped to build the small mansion for its owner. Those slaves’ descendants had taken ownership of the property years ago when the original family fell to ruins and couldn’t afford to pay the property taxes. The story of the role reversal of her great-great grandparents, Tomas Toussaint and his wife, Aimee Guilliame-Toussaint, was a point of pride in their family and a story they would continue to pass on to future generations.
“You forget how beautiful it is,” Mona said, as they pulled up the long drive lined with oak trees.
Most of the land surrounding the home had been sold to pay off bad debts long before her great-great grandfather had purchased it, but it didn’t matter. It was the owning of the home his ancestors had built that was the feather in his cap.
The cab pulled to a stop on the stone-paved drive. Mona quickly paid and tipped the driver before she climbed out of the car behind her sister. Even as she waited for the driver to pull their luggage from the trunk and sit it on the ground, Mona’s eyes kept going to the house. She was surprised by how good it felt to be there.
Pulling their luggage behind them, Mona and Reeba climbed the stairs. The doors opened before they could reach the top step. Both their aunts filled the doorway. Reeba rushed ahead to be embraced by them. Mona hung back, struck by how much they resembled her father. She released a breath, hoping to ease the pain of missing him.
“Hey there, Miss Modern Day Cupid,” one of them said with a toothy smile, her accent as thick as molasses.
They were tall and thin and regal even in the “Welcome to Louisiana” T-shirts they wore with black leggings and brightly colored sneakers. Their soft silver hair surrounded their heads like halos. Seventy never looked so good.
Mona stepped up and hugged each one, burying her face in their neck and enjoying the scent of whatever they were brewing in the kitchen—be it food or a home remedy. “Didn’t know I missed you two so much,” she admitted, blinking away tears.
One of them swatted her hip. “Shouldn’t take no man trouble to get you home, but you’re here, so come on and get this gumbo we promised you.”
Mona stiffened. As the twins turned to enter the foyer, she stopped her sister from entering the house. “Did you tell them about Anson?” she whispered.
“Tell them what? I didn’t know anything until today, remember?” Reeba said, looking slightly offended.
They shared a long look and, as they pulled their suitcases into the house, Mona saw her aunts share a long look as well. Her forehead was still creased with curiosity as they made their way to the same bedrooms on the second floor that they’d slept in during their overnight stays with their parents. The windows were wide open and the bed made.
Mona set her carry-on bag on the leather luggage rack by the door and picked up the sprig of leaves on the pillow. She didn’t need to smell them to know they were from the lemon groves. Sitting on the bench at the foot of the four-poster bed was a small sweetgrass basket filled with all the citrusy homemade products her aunts knew she loved, and even a box filled with her favorite lemon tea.
“What the hell is up?”
Mona turned to find Reeba strolling into her room holding a sprig of lavender—her favorite scent. “I know,” she said, drawing it out as she widened her eyes and held up her own pillow treat.
“Are they running a bed and bath and we don’t know about it?” Reeba asked, poking in Mona’s basket.
Mona swatted her hand away.
“Girls, come down,” one of the aunts called up.
Mona took a deep inhalation of the scent of the leaves before setting them in the basket. “I’ma tell ya, I’m a little freaked out,” she admitted as they strolled from the room and moved down the long hall to the steps. “Are they psychic now?”
Reeba shrugged and pressed her face into her lavender. “I don’t know, but I needed those soaps and creams, so either way I’m so good.”
“Me too. Their last care package of
stuff just ran out,” Mona said as they crossed the foyer with its black and white tiled floors. They followed the long hall to the kitchen at the rear of the house.
“Could you two hurry? I’m starving.”
“Oooooooooh shit,” Mona and Reeba exclaimed in unison at the sight of their baby sister, Shara, leaning in the entryway to the kitchen.
All three rushed toward each other and hugged as they jumped up and down excitedly.
“When did you get here?”
“How long are you staying?”
“How was Dubai?”
“Did you get you some while you were traveling?”
Shara ran her hands over her short cropped hair before holding them up at her sisters. “No more questions. My head is about to burst and you’re firing them at me like crazy.”
“You’re right,” Mona said, her eyes bright and excited as she soaked in her little sister, whom she hadn’t laid eyes on in months.
“It’s so good to see you, Ra-ra,” Reeba added.
“I feel tears . . . y’all know what that means,” Mona said, bouncing her shoulders and snapping her fingers.
“Boogie break,” Reeba and Shara said in unison.
The three sisters danced around the hall with one another as they did the same steps they did when they were just little girls.
“Hey there, ladies.”
All three paused midsnake motion and looked over to find one of their aunts motioning for them.
Laughing, they headed into the kitchen.
Mona paused when Shara sat down at the round wooden table in front of a place setting with a small net of dried apple slices beside it. She didn’t doubt something similar had been on her pillow when she arrived.
“I’m just glad I listened to the aunts and came for a last-minute visit this week, because otherwise I would have missed you guys,” Shara said. “I didn’t even know y’all were coming too. No wonder they asked me not to tell y’all.”
“Oh they did, did they?” Mona said, giving both her aunts a look filled with suspicion as they all took their seat at the table.
“What?” they both said innocently, before sharing another look.
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