by Pat Simmons
Shae occupied the aisle seat, with Brecee seated beside her. Although Brecee’s family members were on their feet, cheering and screaming, they all stopped and turned his way, as if they sensed his presence.
Not one to scare easily, Adrian was still surprised by the number of men in the group.
Shae smiled at him. “Glad you’re here,” she whispered before stepping aside.
“Me, too,” he said with his eyes on Brecee. He gave her a quick hug, even though he wanted to linger.
She seemed to exhale in his arms before pulling back. “You made it.” Her eyes misted. “I didn’t think you were going to come. Again.”
Brecee had no idea how close he'd come to not showing a second time. Thank goodness Kyle had talked some sense in him, because selling himself to Brecee’s family was just as crucial to selling cars to pay bills. He smiled sheepishly. “Have I missed a lot?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Adrian was tempted to ask her if she was talking about the game or her family, but he didn't. Instead, he slipped his fingers through hers.
She grasped his hand. “I want you to meet my mother.” She gestured to the woman standing on her other side.
How had he failed to notice the beautiful lady until now? Clearly, when he was with Brecee, she made him forget about everything else around them.
“Hi,” the woman said, smiling warmly, her eyes sparkling. “I’m Annette Carmen. It’s nice to meet you.”
So, this was how the Carmen women aged—gracefully. Adrian had no complaints.
From there, Brecee went down the row, making introductions. This was one good-looking family. Even the men, minus the scowls on their faces, could have easily generated a following of female admirers wherever they went.
Adrian shook as many hands as he could reach before turning his attention back to Brecee and capturing her fingers again. “You look pretty,” he whispered in her ear. She smelled good, too.
While everyone else seemed anxious or excited over the outcome of the game, Adrian’s only concern was his outcome with Brecee and her family.
Chapter Fifteen
I
f you glow any brighter, I’ll need SPF-100 sunscreen,” Shae teased Brecee when they returned to the mansion for a post-game party.
“What can I say?” Brecee didn’t try to deny her jubilation. “I’m happy Adrian’s here. Now I don’t feel like the loner of the bunch.” She glanced across the marble foyer into the living room, where the men were gathered, talking to Adrian. “But if it’s going to work out between us, he has to pass the Carmens’ inspection. I refuse to allow a man to make me an outcast from my family. So, if he doesn’t like any of them, he’d better play pretend until he leaves.”
“He’ll fit in like Rahn did,” Shae assured her. “Aren’t salesman conditioned to turn any situation into their favor? Plus, from the looks of it, they’re all laughing and smiling.”
“They’ll end up talking about cars.” Brecee watched Adrian, noting his calm demeanor that exuded an air of self-confidence. She was drawn to that confidence, but she wanted to be the center of his attention.
“Don’t be so sure,” their mother said, coming up behind them and wedging herself in between. She wrapped her arm around Brecee’s waist, then steered her toward the kitchen. “You’re the baby girl. They’re going to skin him alive.” She lowered her voice to add, “He’s probably shaking in his shoes.”
They giggled as they entered the kitchen, where Shari was supervising her two sons, Garrison and Saul, snacking on crackers at the kiddie table. The women began warming up the leftover BBQ from the night before, along with the pasta dishes that Miss Vera had prepared while they were at the game. They placed the food on a cart and wheeled it to the elevator for transport to the entertainment room.
They spent so much time there, Brecee often joked that Shae and Rahn could have done without the first floor, as it seemed only to serve as a showpiece.
“Gentlemen?” her mother called them to get their attention. “If you care to join us, then follow the food.”
“In a minute, Annette,” Uncle Bradford replied, as if annoyed by the interruption. “Brecee’s young man is telling us about the newest Benz models.”
The women groaned as Brecee rolled her eyes in amusement. When the elevator door opened, they crammed inside with the children and cart.
“So much for skinning him alive.” Brecee shook her head, but her heart was doing a victory dance.
“Mommy, I like riding the elevator,” little T.J. told Stacy. “Can we get one in our house?”
“Ask your dad,” Stacy muttered.
Although Shae and Rahn’s house was massive and elegant by Brecee’s standards, when the children visited, they thought it was a playhouse. As the family pediatrician, Brecee always reminded her sisters of the importance of proper supervision so her nieces and nephews wouldn’t wind up in her emergency department.
Once upstairs, they arranged the platters on the bar, then settled the children in the play area and fed them. Afterward, T.J. went for the chalkboard, while Shari’s sons rifled through the toy box. Sabrina lay on her play mat, cooing happily.
Putting her hands on her hips, her mother shook her head. “I think our men are putting in their orders for some luxury cars. Either that, or they’re grilling Adrian, and he isn't cracking under the pressure. Good for him.” She grinned, then glanced at her sister-in-law. “Camille and I are in the mood for a concert.”
Her aunt nodded as the two women helped themselves to the front row of theater seats facing the stage.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Aunt Camille said as the sisters took the stage.
Playing their instruments was second nature to Brecee and her sisters. Their parents had always encouraged them to use their talents for the glory of God, and they had, whether participating in a musical competition, performing the opening act at a gospel concert, or playing at church on Sunday mornings.
Whenever the sisters were together, they played. Brecee lifted her guitar from its case near the back of the platform. Stacy pulled out the bench at the baby grand piano. Shari attached the neck strap to her tenor sax. Shae handed Sabrina to their mother, then picked up her drumsticks and got comfortable behind the drums.
Brecee stood in front of their audience and bowed. “Were taking requests, Mom and Aunt Camille.”
“‘Tomorrow,’” Aunt Camille said.
Shaking her head, Brecee smirked. “Now, why am I not surprised?” She had been a young girl when that gospel song by the Winans—her aunt’s favorite—had hit the music world.
“No, ‘Grateful,”’ her mother insisted. “Because that’s the way I feel at this moment, surrounded by my girls, who have such good hus—such good men in their lives.”
That was her mother. She always looked for the good in people, while her Uncle Bradford and cousins, Victor and Dino, tended to be suspicious of every man within ten feet of the Carmen girls, considering him guilty until proven innocent. Since her family didn’t follow the “name it, claim it” trend, Brecee wondered if God had revealed something to her mother concerning Adrian. “Sorry, Aunt Camille,” Stacy said as she ran her fingers across the keyboard for the prelude to Hezekiah Walker’s timeless tune of “Grateful.” Brecee picked it up on the guitar as Shari blended in with her sax.
Having the best voice, Shae began softly singing the chorus. Stacy, Brecee, and Shari accompanied her with rhythm and harmony, building the tempo until the Spirit of the Lord filled the room more and more with each repetition of “grateful.” They worshipped Jesus as David had with his harp.
As they were finishing, the elevator door opened. Out stepped the tall, dark, incredibly handsome black men. Adrian was the only one who looked star struck. Brecee had told him that she came from a musical family. Evidently, seeing was believing.
While he stood rooted in place, arms folded over his chest, and watched with an appreciative smile, the other men joined Brecee’s mothe
r and aunt in the front row. The only exception was Garrett. As if he had been silently summoned, he made a beeline to his instrument case, assembled his tenor sax, and stepped up on the platform next to his wife.
Brecee was surprised that her cousins and uncle didn’t join in, but they seemed content to watch the impromptu concert. It would conclude like every other before with a battle of the sexes on the saxes as Shari and Garrett dueled for dominance on their instruments.
Although Shari’s husband was very good, she was in her element and often beat out even her male cousins, who had taught her to excel on the tenor sax.
When Garrett gasped for air on the last note, applause erupted. The family cheered Shari on as she sustained the tone. The children clapped and jumped in place. When she finally let up, Shari didn’t seem breathless but playfully scrunched her nose at her husband, who winked at her.
She chanced a look at Adrian who seemed to be waiting to make eye contact with her. Thrusting two fingers in his mouth, Adrian whistled. She blew him a few kisses as he took a seat next to Marcellus.
Her mother leaned around her beau and asked Adrian if he could sing.
He grunted. ‘‘I doubt to anyone’s pleasure.”
Everyone laughed with him, including the children who were clueless of the amusement.
After a few more songs, the entertainment ended with Shari and Garrett performing a duet to “Tomorrow” for their aunt.
The family showered the sisters with accolades. Adrian stood and, in a few strides, met Brecee at the edge of the stage. She thought he was about to help her climb down. Instead, he grasped her waist and lifted her to the ground.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful, talented, and, to my good fortune, taken.”
She decided to reciprocate his compliment with one of her own. “And you are charming, indescribably handsome, and....” Never one to hold her tongue, she expressed her frustration: “Busy.”
“True. But, in my defense, I’m a hardworking man who is trying to figure us out. I’d be a fool not to work at it.”
She liked the sound of that.
Her uncle cleared his throat. “Brecee, why didn’t you tell us Adrian had a Philly connection?”
“He does?” Her mother squinted at him.
“During our chat, Adrian said that his grandmother used to live there,” Uncle Bradford continued.
“My mother mentioned it, remember?” Adrian asked Brecee. Linking his fingers with hers, he guided her to a seat, then took the one next to her.
Now that he mentioned it, Brecee did remember, and wished she’d asked her more about it.
“Apparently, our grandparents worked together at Tasty Baking Company,” Adrian said.
“Get out of here.” Brecee blinked as every mouth dropped open. Questions swirled through her head. “When did you find that out?”
“She mentioned it the other day when I told her your family was coming to town. She told me to ask you if you ever heard of Tasty Baking Company, I forgot all about it while your family had me on the witness stand.” He smirked in a calm manner that convinced her he hadn’t been fazed by the “talk.”
“Wouldn’t it be something if our grandparents knew each other?” Brecee murmured.
“The likelihood that they crossed paths is pretty small, Sis,” Shae told her. “It was a big company.”
Their mother chimed in, “In the day, that bakery was a major employer. Every family in the area had somebody working there. My father-in-law was still working there after Saul and I got married.”
“I do remember Granddaddy bringing us Kandy Kakes,” Brecee said. She suddenly had a craving for the snack-sized chocolate cakes with cream filling. As she licked her lips, remembering the flavor, Adrian cast her a bemused glance.
“There weren’t many women who worked there back then.” Uncle Bradford seemed thoughtful. “Before Saul was born—when I was somewhere around five or six—I remember Dad coming home, complaining about a group of ladies who talked about the Bible all day long. They sure annoyed him, for whatever reason. Of course, as a saint of God, I know how seeing a person living right before God has a way of convicting folks. Dad used to say he could quote Scripture without reading a Bible—that’s how much those ladies talked about God. It would be a coincidence, Adrian, if your grandmother was one of those ladies.”
“I don’t know....” Adrian stroked his mustache and frowned. “I never met my grandmother. She died when my mother was young. But if she was so much into her faith, I’m sure it would have rubbed off on my mother, and she’s never mentioned anything about going to ch—” He didn’t finish his sentence, probably because he’d just remembered he was surrounded by churchgoing folks.
“Our salvation is all about God’s timing.” Uncle Bradford shrugged. “My dad knew little about salvation back then. Sometime later, I remember Daddy saying he was happy that two of those 'holy rollers’ were quitting. One was expecting a baby, and the other was getting married and moving to St. Louis.”
It would be romantic if her family and Adrian’s had a connection going back several generations, yet Brecee had to admit the idea was far-fetched. Her uncle had always been a great storyteller, and his listeners often struggled to separate fact from fiction. “Uncle Bradford....”
He shushed her as Adrian rested his arm on the back of her seat and nudged her closer to him. Liking the feel, she relaxed against his chest, mouthing Sorry to her uncle.
“I had no interest in grown folks’ business,” Bradford continued, “but I remembered asking if that was the city with the big McDonald’s arch. I guess I saw it on TV or in a magazine. My daddy explained that it was a monument symbolizing the ‘Gateway to the West.' The rest is history.
“Then, something happened. Shortly before Saul was born, something changed my father. He started going to church and Bible class. We all watched as he got baptized. Years later, after the Lord saved me, I often wondered about that lady who had planted the seed of salvation in Dad’s life that we all have grown from.” He harrumphed. “There are your clues: the bakery and St. Louis. If I were you, young man, I would want to know if there is a treasure waiting to be uncovered, and I’m not talking about the physical kind.”
All eyes were on Adrian, but he seemed preoccupied with his thoughts, staring at nothing in particular. Brecee wondered how different his life might be if his grandmother had been around when he was a child and had talked to him about Jesus.
“Okay,” her mother spoke up. “Let’s eat.” Almost immediately, the women stood and began to lay out the plate settings and dishes for everyone to help himself. The men were the first in line, except Adrian, who remained seated, apparently still lost in thought. Brecee squeezed his hand to rouse him from his reverie, though, truthfully, her mind was just as preoccupied. Had God left a paper trail leading them to their destiny?
“Hungry?” she asked him.
Blinking, he smiled. “Definitely.”
Brecee went to the bar and fixed two plates. After delivering one to Adrian, she watched as he ate with gusto.
Although she didn’t like to talk about her job outside the hospital walls, Brecee wanted him to know that she cared about his. “Thank you for leaving work early today. Did you meet your quota for the month?”
“Yes. Thank you for asking. That’s why I was late, but you probably figured that out.” He took a sip from his bottled water.
“I did.” She paused. “I want to matter to you, Adrian,” she said quietly. “I’m not saying I’m a diva whose needs always have to come first....” She didn’t want to hound the man. He was there, after all, and he’d made sacrifices for that to happen.
Adrian wiped his mouth and gave her his undivided attention. “I know number seven on your list. You are important to me, Brecee, and I’m trying to work it out so that you will feel it, even when I’m not there. Plus, accord-ing to number eight, ‘If we no longer work....’ That is not an option, because I don’t intend
to step aside.”
“Thank you.” She reached for his hands, and they engulfed hers. “I have a confession. I've been a little stressed out because you are so important to me, and I wanted my family to like you. I think they do, to my relief.”
He leaned closer, within kissing range. But she was not going to let that happen in front of her family. Plus, she wanted that first kiss to be special.
“I like them, too.” He lowered his voice to add, “And I really like you.” He winked, and she felt herself blush like a teenager.
The activity around them seemed to blur into the background as they snacked and chatted about everything and nothing. Soon, her family was all entertained out and began to disperse, but not before her uncle asked if they would see Adrian at church tomorrow.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Adrian said with genuine regret in his voice. “I have to work on a group presentation for my management class.”
Brecee almost felt bad that her uncle had put him on the spot, but she knew how important God was to a well-balanced life.
“Well, I’ll say my good-byes now,” Bradford told him. “It was nice meeting you, young man.”
Adrian stood and shook hands with her uncle. “Likewise.”
“And thanks for the business cards. If I know of anyone looking for a car and willing to drive to St. Louis for it, I’ll send him your way.”
“I appreciate it.” He nodded. “Our entire inventory is posted on Broadway Motors’ Web site.”
Did the man ever have a conversation without handing out business cards or talking cars? Stop that! Brecee chided herself. His confident aura was a big draw, and attractive.
Christians should leave calling cards with everyone they meet, Jesus whispered to her spirit.
God’s chastening, reminded her that she needed to witness more and to be about her Father’s business. “Lord, help me to be as diligent in doing Your work as Adrian is about his,” she mumbled softly.