A Time To Love

by Lynn Emery

  “Yes, I love a good mystery novel myself. Though I’m into this love story right now,” Stacy said with a shy smile. She tried to hide her disappointment when Neva and Mama Jo came in.

  Chandler stood up. “Hi, Neva. I was telling Miss Jo earlier that she looks better every time I see her.”

  “She’s making a good recovery. We make sure to see she gets her exercises and such,” Stacy spoke up.

  “You do a good job then,” Chandler said with a smile.

  “Oh, thanks.” Stacy batted her eyelashes and blushed with pleasure.

  “Nice to see you gettin’ her outta here on such a fine day, son. Not too cool an’ not too hot.” Mama Jo beamed at Chandler. She made no secret of how much she liked him.

  “Perfect for a boat ride. My pal Vernon let me borrow Brown Sugar, named in honor of his baby daughter.” Chandler grinned. “We might even catch a few fish. I got two fishing rods for us.”

  “Where you goin’?” Mama Jo asked.

  “I thought we’d catch the ferry to New Roads and go to False River,” Chandler said. The ferry crossed the Mississippi River to the opposite small town in Point Coupee parish. “We can have lunch at the park afterwards. The river is lovely on a day like today,” he gazed at Neva.

  “Sounds wonderful,” Stacy said with a sigh.

  “You be careful with my child.” Mama Jo shook a finger at him.

  “I’ll take good care of her, ma’am. Don’t worry.” Chandler smiled at her.

  “I’m sure you will.” Mama Jo patted his arm with maternal affection. “Any girl be lucky to have you lookin’ out for them. Hard to find a good man these days–”

  “Well let’s get moving while the sun is still up.” Neva shot Mama Jo a look of censure when Chandler turned to say goodbye to a dazed Stacy.

  “Bye, now. Y’all take your time and enjoy yourselves.” Mama Jo ignored Neva with good humor. “Me and Stacy got our day all planned out. I’ll be just fine till late tonight even,” she offered with minimum subtlety.

  “I’ll remember that,” Chandler gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  Neva groaned inwardly. What was she going to do with Mama Jo? Her grandmother was now a silver-haired matchmaker. Musing on the comical aspect of her predicament, Neva settled back to enjoy the ride. With lively Zydeco on a local station as background music, they talked about the landscape they drove through. Neva enjoyed sharing local history tales and legends about the moss draped woods of the Felicianas. Sunlight splash a golden color through the tall oaks, scrub pines and other trees that lined the highway. The sky was a light blue porcelain ceiling above it all with only a few high white clouds.

  “You don’t miss the bright lights, big city?” Neva could not help but think of the many cousins that visited from Los Angeles or Chicago. They could not wait to get back. “Solitude must seem pretty dull after that.”

  “My ex-wife said the same thing.” Chandler smiled.

  “So it’s been almost a year and you’re still here.” Neva felt an unpleasant tickle at the easy way he mentioned her.

  “Yeah. I love being so close to woods and swamps. I was into fishing and camping even back home.” Chandler’s dark brows drew together slightly. “Unfortunately I didn’t take much time off from work.”

  Neva was quiet for a few moments. “You miss your son,” she said in a gentle tone.

  “A lot,” Chandler replied without hesitation. “Tariq is a great kid. Smart as a whip.” His expression softened.

  “Has he visited you down here yet?”

  “Only once.” Chandler cleared his throat. “Looks like we’re in luck. Not many cars waiting.” He pointed ahead as they drove up to the ferry landing.

  “Yes,” was all Neva said.

  Chandler went on to talk about a variety of other subjects. Neva could feel him pushing back the painful subject of not being able to see his son often enough. She concluded that custody and visitation must still be an area of contention. He talked on about the places he’d gone fishing in Michigan. Neva nodded and gave simple answers in all the right places. Yet her mind kept wandering. She wanted to touch the thick, jet curls that covered his head. Brushed back, it was just long enough to make her wonder how it would feel between her fingers or brushing against her skin. What would it take to soothe the ache that missing his son caused?

  Soon the ferry chugged across the river and up to the landing. The ramp was lowered slowly. A tall, barrel-chested man the color of mahogany waved to the first car. As the line moved, each car was directed around to a position on the deck by a second man. After all five cars were loaded, the ramp came up. With a thump, they were moving across the muddy river. Chandler and Neva got out of the car to stand on the deck. The ferry engine rumbled causing them to stand close so they could talk. She draped a small scarf around her hair as the wind picked up. The sound of the water mixed with the sound of his voice in a most charming way. Neva marveled on how this ferry crossing, compared to the dozens of times she’d rode before, seemed special.

  “Hey, I’m rattling on boring you to death.” Chandler wore a sheepish grin.

  “No, no. Not at all.” Neva blinked back from her lustful thoughts. Stop that! You had the man undressed and in your bed!

  “Right, you didn’t even hear my last question.” Chandler looked at her pointedly.

  “I, uh....” Neva tried to think fast. “You were talking about some of those lakes in Michigan.”

  “Yeah and?” Chandler raised an eyebrow at her.

  “And how you and your dad loved to fish.” Neva was doing a bit of fishing herself at that moment. What could she say? That thoughts of putting her hands all over his fine body had blocked out everything else? Chandler wore an apologetic grin. “Like I said, boring. I’m sorry. You get to talk now.”

  “I’m the one who should apologize. I have a bad habit of daydreaming.” Neva gazed out over the water. “Thinking of the sky, the water I can get wrapped up in the beauty of it all.”

  “I see,” Chandler said. He was looking at her hair. “Understandable.” His voice was soft.

  “But I promised myself that I’d be more level-headed once I got home. Take care of business.” Neva gave a sharp nod. “The way you built your career.”

  “Oh no, don’t follow my example.” Chandler shook his head with a frown. He leaned against the railing to watch the waves below. “I put too much on hold while I climbed the ladder of success. Not everything or everybody can wait.”

  Neva could not resist putting her arm through his. The distress in his voice moved her. “You’ll find each other again, you and Tariq. In fact, you never really lost each other,” she said with her lips close to his ear.

  Chandler looked at her with a curious expression. “I hope you’re right. You sound so... certain.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve given him more attention than you think. You mentioned a couple of times you went fishing with him and your father.” Neva smiled. “See, I was listening.” When Chandler laughed, a tingle went through her. She liked making him laugh.

  “That’s right,” he said. The worry lines along his brown eased away.

  “And kids love to travel, see new places. I’ll bet he’s eager to come back.”

  “We had a great time in June. He went crazy over the swamp tours we went on.” Chandler had not lost all the melancholy in his voice.

  “Something to look forward to then.” Neva gave his arm a pat to reassure him.

  “I hope so,” Chandler said with a note of doubt in his tone. “Hey, here we are.” He brighten as the ferry bumped against the tires used to cushion the landing on the opposite shore.

  The loading process that had taken place on the West Feliciana bank was reversed with cars rolling off onto Pointe Coupee parish soil. They went to downtown New Roads where a boat landing sat right next to a park. Ducks and a few geese waddled around the grassy ground that went right down to False River. Wooden picnic tables were scattered farther up along one side of the paved parking lot
.

  “Since it’s almost noon, why don’t we have lunch now?” Chandler said.

  “Okay.”

  Neva grabbed the small cooler while Chandler picked up a large, pretty basket. They chose a bench and sat down.

  “You did very good,” Neva said with genuine appreciation.

  She pulled roasted chicken from a small insulated pack nestled inside the basket. There was also two neat plastic containers of coleslaw. Slices of French bread were wrapped in foil.

  “I’ve learned a my way around the kitchen in the last two years.” Chandler spread out a paper table cloth. With quick efficiency, he laid out bright red plastic forks and knives.

  “Classy.” Neva pulled out paper plates with a red and blue diamond pattern.

  “I wanted it to be nice for you,” Chandler said with a shy smile.

  “You’ve succeeded.” Neva gazed at him for a time before reminding herself not to stare. “Well, I can’t wait to try out your cooking.”

  It seemed they could not run of out things to say. All through lunch, they laughed at funny stories. They played a game of trying to top each other for dumb mistakes they’d made as teenagers. The day warmed up nicely to almost seventy degrees which brought out more boaters. They sat watching all sizes and varieties skip along through the water.

  Neva broke off in the middle of a tale about her junior prom when she noticed the time. “It’s almost one thirty and we still haven’t un-hitched Brown Sugar. My fault for bending your ear.”

  “Hey, no rules. I’m into a laid back style these days. Spontaneity is no my middle name.” Chandler spread his arms wide.

  “A new attitude, eh?” Neva laughed.

  “That’s right. For instance, it’s crowded here. I say we head to Old River. It’s only about twenty minutes down the highway past Morganza.”

  “Not to mention a lovely ride through the spillway,” Neva added. Chandler Macklin was not helping her determination to be steadfast and serious.

  “Let’s go!”

  They made quick work of cleaning up. They dumped their trash in one of the big barrels set out as waste cans. In no time they were on their way to Old River. As she’d said, the countryside was worth it. Egrets, with pure white feathers that gleamed in the sun, made graceful arcs as they swooped through the air. They went down Highway One then turned off heading in to even less populated territory. Neva directed him to the Old River Landing. They replenished their soft drinks from the store that sat right on the bank. At last, they backed the boat into the water.

  “Ready, mate?” Chandler checked to make sure her life vest was secure. He adjusted his sunglasses.

  “Aye-aye, Cap’n.”

  Giggling like two kids, they set off. The rest of the afternoon definitely undid any chance that Neva would think sober, steady thoughts. Chandler kept the boat at a leisurely fifteen miles an hour. Swamp grass, oaks palmetto plants sprouted in profusion along as bayous branched off from the river. They waved at fellow boaters and fishermen standing along the banks. After agreeing on a spot, they stopped to fish. Neva reeled a couple of small perch while Chandler snared three good sized sac-au-lait. The day went along as smooth as the brown glass surface of Old River. At three o’clock they headed back to the landing. Chandler wanted to visit antique shops in New Roads. So for another hour they wander around admiring old chairs, tables and bric-a-brac.

  “I’m getting hungry again.” Chandler glanced down at her. “Satterfield’s is just a few steps away.” He pointed to the restaurant right next to the boat landing.

  Neva was relieved. She was afraid her empty stomach would start rumbling any minute now. “If you like,” she said in demure voice. No need to admit to a most unlady-like appetite the size of Lake Pontchartrain! The view of False River through the windows was lovely. Orange and yellow light from the setting sun painted the houses on the opposite bank. But even with the beauty outside, Neva had trouble seeing anything but the fine work of nature sitting across from her. They talked easily about a variety of things, nothing too serious. Chandler was intelligent, witty and interested in so many things. She felt a rush each time he smiled. Neva had never met a man so good to talk to like this. There was a lull in the conversation as both seemed content with the companionable silence between them. She darted small glances at him, liking the way his handsome head tilted to one side as he watched a boat glide across the water. His skin was like rich dark chocolate, the kind you let melt slowly on your tongue so it would last longer.

  “Dessert?” The blonde waitress glanced from Neva to Chandler.

  Neva blushed. I’m thinking about dessert all right! “No, not for me,” she said.

  “It wouldn’t fit.” Chandler patted his stomach.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” the waitress said with a warm smile at Chandler only. She walked away with hips wiggling and threw him one last glance before going into the kitchen.

  “Well you’ve got a fan,” Neva said. Though she tried to keep her voice light, she felt a prick of irritation. Bold hussy!

  Chandler sat staring at Neva. “Who?”

  “Her.” Neva nodded at the waitress now at another table.

  “Hmm,” he said without taking his gaze from Neva. “What were you smiling about a few moments ago.”

  Neva’s pulsed sped up. “When?”

  “You were thinking deeply and you smiled.”

  “Nothing really.” Neva tried not to blush again.

  “It’s been a great day.” Chandler leaned both elbows on the table. “And you know what’s even better?”

  Neva was captivated by the light in his dark bronze eyes. “Tell me.”

  “I get to end it with you. Perfect.” Chandler took her hand and folded it in both his.

  “That’s a sweet thing to say,” she managed to murmur. Neva’s hard was hammering away so loud, she wondered if everyone could hear it.

  “It’s true. So tell me we’ll be seeing more of each other.” Chandler gazed into her eyes with intensity.

  “Yes,” Neva said in a composed voice. But inside she shouted ‘You bet we will!’.

  “Good.” Chandler smiled at her with pleasure. He gently pressed his lips to her hand, a mere brush that lasted only a second, before letting it go.

  The impression left on her skin seared up her arm, across her shoulders and all over her body. If one kiss on her hand could bring on this sensation, what would more be like? Mercy, it’s been too long since.... I need to get a grip on myself. Neva tried to maintain her cool. Yet despite her efforts to concentrate on why she came home, what she really wanted was more of his lips on her skin. She spent the drive back to Solitude trying to convince herself not to jump into anything. When they arrived, Chandler cut the engine but neither moved to get out.

  Chandler placed his muscular arm around Neva’s shoulder and pulled her to him. His mouth covered hers in a warm, silken trap that tasted too sweet to be true. Neva forgot about the arguments against getting involved with a man she’d just met. She forgot everything except savoring every bit of Chandler that she could get. His scent was a mixture of musky cologne and maleness, that heady spice that only came from the skin of a man aroused. He wanted her. Happiness washed over her at the thought. They broke apart, both breathing heavily.

  Chandler wiped his open palm across his face as though trying to revive himself. “Wow,” he whispered again harshly.

  “My, my,” Neva said. She was dazed, but did not want a clear head at the moment.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “It’s okay,” Neva mumbled. She had her eyes closed. His fabulous, strong arms were still around her. It was more than ‘okay’, it was magnificent.

  “No really, I’m not one of those guys who...” His voice trailed off in distress. He pulled back a bit.

  Neva would not let go. “I don’t regret one second. Do you?” She looked into his eyes while she traced a finger across his lips.

  “No indeed.” Chandler gaze
d back at her with a look of certainty. “What about Tuesday night? Too soon?” he whispered.

  “No indeed,” she replied with a small throaty laugh.

  One more kiss that reached down into her toes again and they said goodnight. Neva drifted into the house on a cloud of joy. She turned off the light Mama Jo had left on for her in the living room and started down the hall to her bedroom. She heard a soft thump from Mama Jo’s bedroom.

  “That you, baby?” Mama Jo called out.

  Neva opened the door to find Mama Jo sitting up in bed with a book, her eyeglasses pushed down on her nose. “Why are you still awake?”

  “What I told you ‘bout talkin’ like I’m some child? I go to sleep when I get ready,” Mama Jo shot back. “Now come on in here and tell me everything you know ‘bout this boy.”

  “He’s wonderful,” Neva said without hesitation. She walked across the spacious room and sat down on the bed.

  “Uh-huh. Where his people from?” Mama Jo cut to the important information.

  “Detroit.” Neva was thinking of their first kiss.

  “Hmm, that don’t tell me nothing. What’s his mama’s maiden name?” Mama Jo rubbed her chin. “Where’s his granddaddy from?”

  “Say what?” Neva looked at her in confusion.

  “Will you stop mooning over his kisses and tell me something about his family!” Mama Jo put her book down on the night stand.

  “I’m not... We didn’t....” Neva’s voice trailed off at the squint-eyed stare of her grandmother.

  “Do these gray hairs look like I was born yesterday?” Mama Jo had a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Besides, I just know,” she said in that odd way that made folks in Solitude whisper.

  “Am I being foolish?” Neva looked at her grandmother.

  “You always was such a dreamy child. But you ain’t never been foolish. Oh sure, you had your head in the clouds.” Mama Jo patted her cheek with affection. “So do eagles when they soar an’ leave everybody else behind.”

  “Look what chasing castles in the air cost me.” Neva thought of her late husband. “What it did to others,” she said in a low voice.