Still Waters...

by Crysal V. Rhodes

  Bev had been eighteen when she eloped with Colton Cameron. She was nineteen when she was left a widow with a child to raise. Her parents and Dana had moved back to Stillwaters while Bev and Darnell had continued to live in Chicago. It was during this period of time that the distance between the sisters had become more than mere mileage. When Bev went home to visit, she found Dana to be a spoiled, self-absorbed child, and not much had changed in adulthood. As much as she loved her sister, she wasn’t sure that she liked her because Dana wanted what Dana wanted when Dana wanted it. That was the way it was. To keep peace in the family her parents had accepted such behavior, but Bev had not.

  Ginny resumed bustling around the room. “I’m glad that she’s found happiness. It’s been three years since I’ve seen my child.”

  “That’s two husbands before the last three years,” Bev quipped sarcastically, “and two fiancés after.”

  “Oh, stop it.” Ginny refused to hear criticism of her daughter’s latest announcement. “And don’t you dare bring up those other men to her. They were mistakes. She’s trying to start a new life, so be happy for her and keep your mouth shut.”

  “Mama, she won’t even tell you this latest fiancé’s name! Don’t you find that strange?” Bev knew who was coming with Dana. She wanted to know what other lies that her sister had told their mother.

  Ginny didn’t take the bait. Instead of responding, she picked up a pile of towels on the foot of the bed and headed toward the adjoining bathroom. Bev followed her.

  “Suppose she accuses us of not liking this fiancé like she did that last one? If that happens I guess she’ll pull another tantrum and go into self exile for three more years.”

  It still made Bev angry to think about how much pain her sister’s irrational behavior had caused their mother. Their father had died only a year before Dana brought Mitch Clayton around to meet her family, and Ginny had still been grieving. When her youngest daughter had pulled her little trick it had broken Ginny’s heart. Their mother had been through enough.

  “You and I were right about that Mitch guy and she didn’t like it. He strung her along for years, and if he hadn’t died, he never would have married her. She knows it, and so do you.”

  Ginny didn’t react as she placed the fluffy towels in the linen closet and closed the door. After a cursory glance around the room to reassure herself that everything was in place, she moved past her daughter back into the bedroom, but Bev refused to be ignored.

  “I called Darnell and we discussed this latest fiancé thing,” Bev said cautiously, not wanting to reveal too much about her conversation with her daughter and what they both knew and suspected. “She said that it’s the first she’s heard about it.”

  Over the years it was Darnell who had kept her grandmother informed about Dana’s welfare. She and her aunt were fairly close in age and that had proven to be a bond between them—an advantage that Bev had never enjoyed. “Dana knows what bringing that man here to Stillwaters means.”

  Ginny headed toward the bedroom door determined to ignore her eldest, but as she started to exit she changed her mind. Before closing the door behind her, she looked back at the daughter that she loved so dearly and uttered the two words that were meant to stop the flow of negativity coming from Bev about her sister: “Family first.”

  * * *

  The iron gate closed behind Dana and Ray, and he felt trapped. The feeling intensified as they encountered a small guardhouse immediately inside the gate. Painted white, it stood in the middle of a small patch of perfectly manicured grass and boasted a window box filled with flowers. A paved parking lot occupied by numerous cars and several golf carts sat across the street from the building. Security cameras were mounted discreetly on light poles. They were aimed at the entrance. Standing at the foot of the brick path leading to the building was a portly guard dressed in sharply creased black slacks and a pristine white shirt. A badge was attached to the pocket of his shirt. Ray was taken aback—first a stone wall and then a security check. What kind of town was this?

  Dana brought the car to a stop. Walking to the passenger side, the guard peered past Ray to the driver.

  “Ms. Mansfield!” He flashed a grin of recognition. “I saw your name on the list, but it’s been so long since you’ve been here that I didn’t recognize you at first. How have you been?”

  “Fine, Mr. Monroe. How’s your wife doing?”

  “She’s well. Thanks for asking.” He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand and began flipping through some papers. He found her name. “Here you are!” He checked her off and then looked at Ray.

  “And who is your guest?”

  “This is my fiancé, Ray Wilson. Ray, this is Mr. Monroe.”

  The man gave him a courteous nod, which Ray returned. He noted that Dana hadn’t looked at the guard when she told him the big lie.

  Ray’s name was written down. They both were waved forward. “Okay, Ms. Mansfield, go on through, and congratulations.”

  As Dana continued their drive, Ray turned to her. “Is this a town or a prison?”

  “When I was growing up sometimes it used to feel like both, but there is a reason for all of this.”

  “Well, it would be nice if you would tell me the reason,” Ray snapped. All of these precautions made him uneasy.

  Dana remained silent and kept driving. They passed a two-story Colonial house on the same side of the road as the guardhouse. Painted white and trimmed in green with matching shutters, it was surrounded by a white picket fence. Weeping willow trees stood on either side of the brick walkway leading to the front door.

  “The guard and his family live there.” Dana nodded toward the house.

  “That’s quaint,” Ray observed. The setting reminded him of a Norman Rockwell painting, minus the guard, the wall, and the gate. He was beginning to relax a bit, that is until they reached yet another barrier between them and Stillwaters.

  It was twin gates this time. They were not as high or as decorative as the one at the first entrance, but they were wider and sat between two stone pillars that melted into thick, well-tended shrubbery. A brass plate was attached to one of the pillars. Etched in regal script were the words FAMILY FIRST.

  “What does that mean?” Ray asked.

  “Just what it says,” Dana answered. “It’s our family motto, and we take it seriously.”

  “Oh yeah?

  “Yes. You’ll see what I mean. Believe me, Stillwaters is one place that you won’t easily forget.”

  Ray doubted it. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because it holds mysteries that will entice you.” Dana punched more numbers into the second keypad.

  Ray watched as the gates opened silently. He wondered if the next barrier would be a moat and a fire-breathing dragon.

  They continued their slow drive on a road that was much narrower than the one that they had been on previously. Trees with fragrant pink blossoms lined both sides of the road for about a quarter of a mile. Then suddenly the road began to widen. Buildings began to appear. They had finally reached Stillwaters.

  The streets of the town were empty of pedestrians and there were no other cars in sight. Ray did a double-take as the first building came into view. It was a small structure, daring in its contemporary design, reminiscent of the work of the renowned African-American architect Armon Casey, whose name in some circles was being whispered with the same reverence as that of the late Frank Lloyd Wright. People waited for years to have him design their homes and buildings. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford his designs. One of his buildings couldn’t possibly have been built in this small town. Just as surprising was the business that was located in the Casey knock-off. The sign hanging above the bright red door of the building read Bo Designs.

  A frown creased Ray’s toasted brown features. The clothes in the display windows looked like the work of Bo Buchannan—known internationally as Bo—but they couldn’t be. It was hard to believe that there were people in this t
own who could afford the designs of one of the icons of fashion. Still, he had to ask.

  “Is that an authentic Bo clothing store?”

  “Yes, it is,” Dana answered matter-of-factly. “And the building is an Armon Casey design.”

  Before Ray could recover from the shock of that revelation he was in for even more surprises. Across the street from the clothing store was a familiar looking building, built of rustic wood. Bricks had been added to the bottom half of the building to modernize its look. The hand-lettered sign identified it as the Healthy Heart Grocery Store, and next door to that, separated by a small parking lot, was a small, bright red building with a door striped like a candy cane. This was the signature design of another exclusive franchise, the Perfect Concoction Creamery and Bakery. Like the Healthy Heart stores, these sweet shops only occupied the most elite neighborhoods. Where in the hell was he? What kind of place was Stillwaters?

  “That’s The Cove over there,” Dana said and pointed to another building. “It’s the town’s entertainment center. It was designed by Armon, too.”

  Ray turned to see the building next to Bo Designs. Long and sleek, it took up the rest of the block. The arcs and angles of the structure were fascinating, but what caught Ray’s eye was the marquee listing the multitude of activities being offered inside. There was bowling, roller skating, and pool. In addition, according to the marquee, there was a film being shown in the theatre at various times. Ray recognized the title immediately.

  “That’s Thad and Darnell’s latest movie!” It hadn’t been released yet.

  “Yes, it is. We get their preview copies here all the time.”

  “What!” Nobody had told him about this. Even he hadn’t seen a preview of it yet. “How did that happen?”

  “Thad,” she said as if he should have known the source.

  Ray swallowed the sharp retort that threatened to escape. Thad hadn’t told him anything about previewing the film in this hick town. He was Thad’s manager, and the least he could have done was extended him that courtesy.

  Ray refocused his attention on the passing scenery. They had left the rows of buildings and were continuing down a two-lane road, lined on both sides with graceful weeping willows. As they cleared the trees, the residents of Stillwaters seemed to appear out of nowhere. Everything around them seemed to be bustling with life. Joggers abounded. Bikers sped along marked trails. Tennis courts were filled with players. They passed a baseball field and a basketball court where spirited games were in progress. People were everywhere, and they all had one thing in common.

  “So this is a black town.” Ray’s words were a statement, not a question. Everyone he saw was African-American.

  He had heard about such places. After the Civil War emancipated slaves had established quite a few towns throughout the United States. Few still existed, and Ray had read that those that did were in dire financial straits. That didn’t seem to be a problem in Stillwater. The buildings that he saw were well maintained, and the streets were immaculate. Golf carts, bicycles, and bicycle-pedaled surreys appeared to be the modes of transportation. They were parked in droves in the parking lots by the sports fields, but one car did emerge from a side street that caught Ray’s attention. It was a white Rolls Royce.

  “Damn!” Ray followed the car’s progress as it passed. The windows were tinted so that its occupants couldn’t be seen. He turned to Dana.

  “So who’s that, the mayor?” He wasn’t joking.

  Dana smiled, but once again didn’t answer. The woman was beginning to grate on his nerves. He was about to tell her about herself when his attention was caught by a group of teenagers emerging from a wooded area. They were dressed in swimsuits and carrying beach bags.

  “Where are they coming from?”

  Dana followed his line of vision. “Stillwaters Lake is through those trees.” She nodded in the direction from which the kids had come. “There’s also an eighteen hole golf course near the lake and a swimming pool in The Cove.”

  Ray raised a brow. Dana knew how much he loved swimming and golf. She probably threw that in to make him want to stay. He had to admit that this place was intriguing.

  Dana turned off the road on which they had been driving and rounded a curve. Ray blinked and blinked again. If he hadn’t known better he would have believed that they were in Beverly Hills, California. Sitting back from the street amidst manicured lawns and blossoming flowers, the stately homes on this street rivaled those in that iconic enclave.

  “We must be on the rich side of town,” Ray marveled. “These people are living large.”

  “This is Stillwaters Road, where most of the elders in my family live. That house to our right belongs to my mother.”

  The house was huge, with a pillared porch. A man on a riding mower was cutting the manicured lawn in precise lines.

  “That’s where I’ll be staying while we’re here,” Dana informed him. “We’ll come back there later after I show you around.”

  They continued driving, passing a narrow gravel road that stood between two rows of flowered trees.

  “That’s Church Road,” Dana pointed out. “No cars are allowed down there. At the end of the road there’s a church and a cemetery.”

  Ray nodded absently. “Baptized and buried in the same place.”

  Only a row of trees separated Church Road and the house next to it. Smaller than the other houses, it was a quaint two-story brick structure, with two chimneys on opposite ends of the house. White window boxes containing flowers decorated three second-story windows. Flowers lined the winding walkway that led to the front entrance.

  “That’s where my great-grandmother lives. We call her Grandy. She’s the matriarch of our family, and this weekend she’ll turn one hundred years old. She’s one of the reasons that I’m back here. Her birthday is something I couldn’t miss.”

  As they rounded a bend a house appeared that was more majestic than any of those that they had previously passed. It was huge, with screened-in porches on both floors.

  “A Come Right Inn,” Ray said, identifying yet another successful high-end franchise. This one dominated the bed and breakfast industry.

  “Yes, it is,” Dana confirmed. “As my fiancé you would normally be staying there, but I know what happens when that occurs. Everybody is all in your business. I don’t want that, so I called my Uncle Gerald and asked him if he would let you stay with him. He said it’s okay.”

  Ray was less than thrilled. “Oh, great, I get to stay with one of your relatives instead of in an inn famous for its elegant accommodations and delicious dining. Why am I being punished for your lie?”

  Dana laughed. “I get the message, but really, it’s for the best. With people getting married left and right, and the town rule being no unmarried couples staying together, we needed a place for guests, so the inn was built.”

  Ray gawked at her. “The town rule is what?”

  “You heard me.”

  He shook his head in astonishment. “Am I in the Twilight Zone? Whoever heard of a town with an old-fashioned rule like that?”

  “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” Dana rounded another bend and emerged onto a cul-de-sac. There were only two houses on this section of Stillwaters Road. Both were large, but while the others that they had passed were older structures, both of these homes were contemporary and appeared to have been recently constructed.

  “That’s Uncle Gerald’s house over there.” She pointed to a crème-colored stucco that was a designer’s dream—another Casey design. Across the street, a smaller house built from recycled bricks was equally as impressive. “And that’s my sister’s house.”

  Ray’s heart lurched. He had known that he might see Bev in town, but he’d had no idea that she actually had a house here. A luxury car was parked in the driveway. A woman was leaning into the backseat. Long brown legs that went on forever teased him from a pair of linen shorts. He couldn’t see the heart-shaped brown face framed in the stylish cut that she wore
sculpted close to her head. Nor could he see the large expressive eyes that usually looked at him with contempt, but he knew that it was Bev. How often had he studied her assets—the ample beasts, the shapely hips? He knew every curve of her body.

  They cruised past both houses and Dana made a U-turn. “I’ll drop you off at my uncle’s house after I show you the rest of the town.”

  Ray nodded absently, preoccupied with the thought that if he did stay in town he would be staying across the street from Bev. The idea bothered and excited him. It was best that he leave ASAP. As they started back down Stillwaters Road, Ray pondered his alternatives, but Dana’s next words startled Ray out of his musings.

  “Every person in this town is a relative of mine, Ray, by blood or by marriage.” She paused to let her words have their intended impact. “Armon Casey is my cousin, and so is Bo Buchannan. The Healthy Heart Stores, Perfect Concoctions, and the Come Right Inns are corporations founded by my family members. As we drive through town, you’ll recognize faces and names of people who have power and influence in nearly every public, private, or financial enterprise in this country. And they all know how to use it.”

  * * *

  As Bev removed the baby from the back seat of her car, she straightened in time to see a car that she didn’t recognize moving slowly past her house. It was headed toward town. Curious, she stood in the driveway trying to catch a glimpse of its occupants. Strangers weren’t welcome in Stillwaters. That meant that at least one of the vehicle’s occupants had to be family. She squinted as the man in the passenger seat turned his head toward her and then quickly looked away. He was too far for her to be positive of his identity, but her brief glimpse had fostered an uneasy feeling of familiarity. She was certain that Ray Wilson had arrived in town.

  CHAPTER 3

  “The Stillwaters left North Carolina after the Civil War. It seems that the clan was pretty notorious around those parts. As a matter of fact, that’s how we got our last name. We were Maroons and…”