She opened to the door and startled to find Marcus standing there. “Tara, can we talk before you leave?”
She followed him into his office.
“What do you want to happen, Tara?”
“I thought I told you already. I want to get to know him. I want to help raise him.”
“How, Tara? A day here? A weekend there? You don’t expect me to shuttle him off to you around the world while you live it up?”
“Marcus, why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you. I guess I’m still hurt. Both of us are,” he said wearily.
“How do you think I feel after learning my son was right under my nose this whole time, and no one bothered to tell me?”
“Hey, it was your choice,” he contended, throwing his hands up. “So, deal with it.”
“I will,” she said, turning to leave the room. “A good friend of mine is putting me in touch with a child psychologist here in the area. I hope you don’t mind, but I think she would be good for Aaron.” Seeing him nod, she said, “I made a great mistake, but all I can do now is ask forgiveness and move forward. I am trying to make amends, and I hope you see my efforts as such. Goodbye, Marcus, and I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”
Chapter 14
Over the next several days, Tara kept reaching out to Aaron, and he kept resisting her overtures. And each time she would promise to keep returning until he would talk to her. Then she would head back to her hotel room and enter her thoughts into her journal, hoping to release any frustration. The writing of music she grew accustomed to turning to would have to support her now.
Her writing interrupted during her last failed attempts at turning her emotions into lyrics. She got up to see who was knocking at the door. It was Sydney.
“The agent just called and said you can move in as soon you’re ready,” she announced.
“Can we move in today?” Tara asked.
“If that’s what you want,” Sydney said.
“That is what I want,” Tara replied. “Tell her to send the contract to my lawyers, and I’ll get back to her later today. That’s great news, the best I’ve heard in quite some time.”
“Now that you’re in a good mood, there’s one other thing,” Sydney said. “I need to return to L.A. I have a few prospects I want to interview. I’ll work a few days, and then if it’s okay with you, I would like to go home for the holidays.”
“As you know, we shut down during those weeks if I’m not on tour. So go ahead. I’ll be fine. Besides, things are so slow this time of year. The industry itself virtually shuts down. I can manage, but please wait until after I get settled this weekend to leave.”
“No problem,” Sydney replied. “Any change with Aaron?”
“No. I keep telling myself that he’ll come around, but I’m losing hope.”
“Don’t, not now. You’ve gotta stay strong.”
“Thanks. I’ll try,” Tara said, reaching for the ringing phone.
“Miss Russell?” A child’s voice was on the other end of the line.
“Aaron? Sweetheart, is that you?” Tara asked, utterly astonished.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where are you?” she asked, noticing that it was just after eleven on a school day.
“At school. I got your number from Q. He e-mailed me last night and gave it to me. I hope it’s okay that I called you.”
“No, sweetie, I don’t mind, not at all.”
“Can I see you after school?” he asked. “I don’t have basketball practice today.”
“Of course. Shall I ask your father if it’s all right to pick you up?”
“Yes, please.”
“Maybe we can go somewhere quiet and hang out for a while.”
“Um . . . Okay. That’s what Q said we should do.”
“You like Quinton, don’t you?”
“He’s cool,” Aaron said, his voice suggesting he was trying to convince his mother Quinton was not a big deal. “At first, I was mad at him, too, but he said it was up to you and Dad to tell me.”
“He’s a good friend to have, Aaron; you are very lucky. I’ll call your father so that he can inform the school. Then I’ll see you when you get out.”
“Okay. Well, I have to go now, Miss Russell. I’ll see you later.”
After picking Aaron up, Tara showed him the house she was leasing. “I’ll start moving my stuff in once my belongings arrive from New York,” she explained as they walked around the place. The first area she showed him was the library located to the left of the front door, which had a cozy reading area in front of a wood-burning fireplace. On the opposite side of the entryway was an open area with a grand staircase curving around them. Tara said, pointing to a vacant spot near the stairs, “I want to get a Christmas tree and put it right over there.”
She then took him into the living room, decorated in chocolate, burgundy, and cream. Spotting the piano in the corner, Tara followed Aaron to the bench. He started to tinker with the keys.
“I know a cool place to get trees,” he said. “You get to pick it out and cut it down yourself. Dad and I are going this weekend. He hasn’t had a lot of time off from work to go sooner. Maybe you can come with us.”
After playing a quick melody with random notes, the two started walking into the open gourmet kitchen. Tara eyed the stainless steel appliances, knowing if Jordan were here, she’d enjoy the layout. It was a chef’s dream kitchen, and it was clear the owner loved to cook. The kitchen was modern yet warm and inviting. High stools lined one side of the large island, and a dining table sat in the breakfast nook. Next to the open space was the family room, allowing conversations and entertaining to overflow comfortably between the two rooms.
“I heard you had a big science project that was due today. How did it go?”
“Great,” Aaron replied. “We had to do something on natural disasters, and most everyone chose tornadoes or volcanoes. But I simulated an earthquake.”
He impressed Tara as she listened to Aaron explaining his use of Legos, model cars, and action figures to make his model. “Sounds neat. You must show me how you did it.”
As the two made their way up the second staircase next to the kitchen, Tara said, pointing out the rooms ahead of them. “There are six bedrooms upstairs, each with a full bathroom.”
“I got an A for it,” he said, going into a corner bedroom. “I like this room; it looks like a kid’s room.”
The décor was bright with twin beds, a coordinated desk and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall.
“Well, while I’m here, it can be your room whenever you visit.”
Suddenly, Aaron threw his arms around her waist. Hugging him back, Tara said, “Baby, I am so sorry.”
“Why did you leave me? Why didn’t you love me?”
Tara pulled back and held his face between her hands, and with deeply felt emotion, said, “Aaron, I always loved you, even before I knew you were you.”
“How?”
“I loved you from the moment I found out you were growing inside me. I have never stopped loving you, and if I could go back to change things, I would.”
“Then how could you leave me like you did?”
She sat down on one a bed and pulled him onto her lap. Holding him close, Tara answered as truthfully as she could. “Sometimes things happen in our lives we think we have no control over, and then we don’t realize until it is too late that we had control all along. I thought I was doing what was best for you and even for your father.”
“Are you going to leave me again?”
“Never,” she promised, hugging him close. “Just remember, you can always find me right there,” she said, pointing to his heart. Pointing to his head, she added, “And if you want to think about the good times, I will always be right here, smiling. And I promise we have plenty more of those ahead.”
With a child’s forgiving grace, Aaron said, “I love you.”
“And I love you, too.”
* * *
“So, is my room ready?” Quinton asked playfully with his face filling the FaceTime window of her iPad. The length of his hair and full beard, both thick and coarse being the most significant change since she’d last seen him. “You know my taste, so hook it up, woman.”
“Don’t be surprised when you find yourself staring at a blank screen,” Tara warned.
“You think I’m playing with you, but I’m dead serious.”
“You just worry about coming back to the States so I can work on my stuff,” she said. “I have a room that will convert into a writing room.”
“To have a writing room, you need to be writing.”
“Oh, you want to be a comedian tonight. Aren’t you full of jokes?” Tara responded, laughing. “Now tell me about your chats with Aaron. He rushes home every day to check his e-mail.”
“That’s my partner in crime. He gets a kick out of the pictures I’m taking over here, so I’ve been sending a few here and there, giving him a chance to see what I’ve been experiencing,” Quinton said. “How are things with you and little man? He sounds so happy.”
“Better. Marcus stopped by this afternoon to help me hang up a few pictures. I’ve been trying to make this house a home, and then I had dinner with him and Aaron at their place.”
Quinton was quiet for a moment before replying. “Yeah, Aaron told me you and Marcus have been hanging out a lot lately. So does this mean you two are getting back together?”
Tara thought about it, then laughed lightly. “Uh, to my knowledge, I don’t think so. I mean, we’re cool and enjoy each other’s company, but right now, I want to see my son.”
“And you don’t think his father is trying to see you?”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Changing the subject, he asked, “What are your plans for the holidays?”
“I’m spending Christmas with Aaron. When are you coming home?”
“The first week of January.”
“Of January? I was hoping to see you before then.” Setting aside her disappointment, she continued, “If you break out early, maybe you’ll be able to catch a little gathering I’m having on New Year’s. Nothing big, just close family and friends.”
“I can’t promise anything right now. I’ll see, Blue,” he answered. “At the moment, I need to head to the studio. You take care of yourself out there, okay?”
“You do the same.”
* * *
Quinton made comments on a contract his manager e-mailed him and sent it back. He also responded to Aaron’s latest e-mail. As he turned off his computer for the evening, he felt a sudden numbness in his hand. He shook it off, knowing he’d been overworking it, and prepared for bed. He wanted to get an early start the next day to speed up his return home. There was no way in hell Marcus would slip into his spot while he had his back turned.
In the dark, Quinton removed his shirt and draped it and his pants over a chair, letting his underwear and socks drop in a pile on the floor. Every move he made, including walking to his bed, showed just how tired he was. The extra work he had been putting in at the studio the last few nights wore him out, but the sooner he finished, the quicker he returned to the States and Tara.
His sleep cut short when the telephone rang. Rubbing his eyes, Quinton glanced at the clock. Most times, he and Tara spoke about the same time. He figured she was thinking he was keeping his usual late hours. He was happy hers would be the voice he heard before going back to sleep.
“Hey, Blue,” he said, his eyes half shut.
“Who is Blue?” an annoyed female voice asked.
Quinton sprang upright in the bed and turned on the lamp. “Who is this?”
“I’ll give you one hint, Q. I’m the one who made you a man,” Robyn replied.
Quinton’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the telephone tightened. “What do you want, Robyn?”
“I guess since we both know who you want, it’s only fair that I let you know what I’m after.”
“You clued me in to that the day I asked for a divorce. You’re only about one thing—money,” he replied angrily.
“Well, doesn’t it make the world go round? Also, it gives you and your little hip-hop friends something to rap about.”
In the background, he heard female voices, and Robyn started to rush their conversation. “Speaking of money. Did you hear the good news?” she asked, taunting him. “The shareholders are ecstatic about bringing Ferrio on board.”
“Luca Ferrio?” Quinton asked, sitting up in bed.
“Is there another Ferrio who is sitting on a gold mine?”
“What deal is KINSON trying to make with him?” Dread clinched him in his gut as he listened for Robyn to explain.
“Shame on you for not keeping up with your affairs. Gotta go!” she said before abruptly hanging up.
Chapter 15
Tara quietly opened the front door to let Marcus in.
“Coffee?” she asked whispering. She signaled for him to follow her into the kitchen, where she already had a pot brewing. Nodding, he sat down on a stool.
“Tara, he no longer believes in Santa Claus,” Marcus said. “We could have waited until he woke up to give him his gifts.”
Playfully swatting his hand, she said, “Humor me.”
“Okay, okay,” he replied. “Where is this gift I need to put together? I better hurry up and get to it. It’s already going on five.”
Tara took him downstairs to the family room in the basement. Pointing to a stack of boxes, Marcus stood speechless.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Tara. What is in all these boxes?”
Shrugging, Tara feigned innocence.
“I better get started. Do me a favor and keep the coffee coming,” he replied. Shaking his head and grinning, he watched her walk up the steps.
* * *
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, greeting her son with a hug. Marcus followed suit, hugging Aaron as he came down Tara’s staircase.
“What are you doing here?” Aaron asked excitedly. “I thought I was coming to your house later.”
“You are, but your mother invited me over to watch you open the gifts she—”
Elbowing Marcus, Tara stopped him from saying any more. “I believe all those gifts over there are from Santa,” Tara said.
Aaron asked, whispering loud enough that Tara also heard, “Dad, she knows Santa isn’t real. Doesn’t she?”
Marcus laughed.
* * *
Tara and Marcus loaded the dishwasher with their breakfast dishes. She was the first to admit that she could not cook, so she had a caterer prepare an easy-to-reheat brunch in advance.
They had to pry Aaron away from the music instruments, model cars and airplanes, and electronic gadgets to share the meal with him. During breakfast, the telephone rang multiple times with friends and family sharing holiday cheer. Tara, overwhelmed with joy, listening to her son share his Christmas experience with Jordan and Sydney.
Wanting to return to his presents, Aaron rushed to finish eating a bowl of oatmeal, bypassing the quiche, fresh fruit, and pastries lining the counter.
“This feels right, Tara,” Marcus said, breaking the silence. “The three of us doing this together . . . it’s the way it should be.”
Dropping a utensil into the sink, Tara turned to face him. “Marc, I’m happy we’re getting along again. He needs us on the same team.”
Studying her face, Marcus said, “And what about you, Tara? What do you need?”
Stalling, Tara turned away to retrieve more dirty dishes. Marcus came up behind her and turned her toward him. Without speaking, he kissed her. Placing her hands on his chest, Tara pulled away from his embrace.
“Marc, no. We can’t.”
“Why not? Is it because of him?”
“Who?”
“Quinton.”
“Yes. No. I mean yes and no. It’s because we need to spend this time focusing on Aaron and not our hormones,” Tara rep
lied.
“You’re right. We shouldn’t cloud things after all of work to become civil again.”
With the discussion behind them, Tara and Marcus joined Aaron in the family room for another hour before Marcus took their child to his house, but she wasn’t sure if her message was as clear to him as she hoped.
* * *
The grandfather clock chimed throughout the house, awakening Tara. She regretted purchasing the antique and made a note to reset it to mute the chime. She had just closed her eyes when the telephone rang.
Frustrated by a night of fitful sleep, Tara answered curtly. “What?”
“Whoa, Blue,” Quinton replied, laughing. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said.
“No, it’s not you. It’s this clock.”
“I can talk to you another time.”
“No,” she protested. “I can’t sleep anyway and thank you for the watch. I got it yesterday, but didn’t want to open the package until today.”
“How was your day?” When her response was slow coming, Quinton became curious. “Well?”
“It was great. Aaron enjoyed himself here, but after he left, the place seemed so empty. I’m not used to a traditional Christmas and didn’t know what to do once they opened their presents. Which reminds me, Aaron likes the camera. You didn’t have to send that, you know.”
“I thought it would be cool for him to preserve this time with you,” Quinton answered. “So you were bored?”
“I’m thankful for the time I shared with Aaron, but,” she said, pausing, “yes, I was.”
Quinton heartily laughed. “I guess nothing can ever beat our Christmas in Hawaii.”
“Yeah, something about getting caught under a waterfall during a monsoon that makes you get all sentimental.”
“Even though I paid for it later when I got sick, I will always remember that trip. Of course, no one believes me when I tell them you spent nearly two days nursing me back to health.”
“I would have thought you were faking, but that fever had me scared,” she replied, remembering the time they had spent together. “No, nothing can ever compare to Hawaii.”
I Can Love You Page 19