Breakfast in Bed

by Rochelle Alers

  “For how long, Gage?”

  “Until forever.”

  She repeated the two words in her head until she fell asleep. And when she woke the next morning to rain pelting the windows, she was alone in bed and there was a square gaily wrapped box on the pillow next to hers. Pushing into sitting position, she carefully removed the paper to reveal a navy blue velvet case. Instinct indicated it was a piece of jewelry—but what?

  She finally opened the top and gasped. Resting on a bed of white silk was a diamond bangle. The blue-white stones shimmered like stars. After two attempts, Tonya managed to open the double safety catch and slip it on her left wrist. The weight indicated it was more than gold. Perhaps even platinum.

  Scrambling out of bed, she raced into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Removing the kimono from a wall hook, she slipped it over her head. She entered the bedroom at the same time Gage strolled in carrying two trays.

  “I’d hoped to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

  “You have,” she said, smiling. “With breakfast and with the bracelet.” Tonya held up her left arm. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get back into bed so we can eat together.”

  She smoothed down the sheet and climbed back into bed, taking the tray from Gage and placing it across her lap. He had prepared a light, fluffy omelet, home fries, toast, and a cup of fresh fruit. “This smells wonderful.”

  He got into bed next to her. “Bon appétit.”

  “Thank you.” Tonya bit into the omelet filled with green onions and Gruyère. “You’re going to spoil me where I’d want breakfast in bed every morning.”

  Gage ruffled her short hair. “That can be easily arranged.”

  “Breakfast or spoiling?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m glad you suggested staying in this weekend,” Gage said after a comfortable silence. “I know I promised my mother I’d come up to Lafayette to see her, but right now I’m not up to driving more than a hundred fifty miles in the rain.”

  Tonya’s fork stopped in midair when she stared at him. “You canceled seeing your mother to be with me?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What is it, Gage? I don’t want your mother angry with me because—”

  “Stop it, Tonya. My not seeing my mother has nothing to do with you. I didn’t make a firm commitment to see her; otherwise she would’ve called and read me the riot act.”

  “I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  “You’re entitled to overreact every once in a while.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.”

  He ran a finger down the length of her short nose. “You’re welcome, madam.”

  * * *

  Tonya sat on the window seat in the garret, staring at the rain sluicing down the glass. She and Gage had shared a shower, splashing each other like little kids before she begged him to stop. She’d retreated to the attic when Gage had to return several phone calls; she didn’t want him to think she was eavesdropping on his conversations.

  She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs and turned away from the window. The expression on his face was one she would never forget: fear. “What is it?”

  “It’s Wesley.”

  Tonya stood up. “What about him?”

  “The police just called to say someone found him in an alley beaten so badly he’s barely alive.”

  Tonya was galvanized into action. “I’m coming with you.”

  She didn’t remember putting on her running shoes or grabbing a poncho from the closet. What she did remember was Gage speeding and running red lights to get to the municipal hospital. It appeared that the natural color had drained out of his face, while a muscle twitched nervously in his jaw. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, she took his keys. She wasn’t going to allow him to drive like that again and wrap the Audi around a pole.

  She felt helpless, impotent—as helpless as she’d felt when she pleaded with her brother to give up selling and using drugs. But all of her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Ian had claimed he was in too deep and didn’t know how or want to get out.

  She sat in the hospital waiting area for family members while Gage spoke to someone at the nurses’ station. He was gone for so long Tonya thought he’d forgotten she had come with him.

  She popped up when he walked into the room. It was as if he’d aged overnight. “How is he?”

  He shook his head. “Not good. Whoever beat him wanted him dead. They’ve got him hooked up to a machine monitoring his vitals, and they’re also trying to flush drugs out of his system. The doctor said he shot up with a lethal cocktail of heroin, crack, and another drug whose name I can’t recall.”

  Tonya rested a hand on his arm. “I thought he lived in Baton Rouge.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He ran a hand over his face. “Now that he’s here, I can keep an eye on him. I don’t know where he got the drugs, but once they release him I’m bringing him home with me—that is if you don’t mind him living with us.”

  Tonya looked at Gage as if he’d lost his mind. “It has nothing to do with whether I mind, Gage. The boy’s your son, and it is your responsibility to make sure he gets help and stays clean.”

  He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Thank you. That’s really a load off my mind.”

  She wanted to ask him if he really thought she was that callous and would tell him his son couldn’t live with them. “How long do they plan to keep him?”

  “I don’t know. Remember, Tonya, this is not Wesley’s first rodeo, but if I have anything to do with it it’s going to be his last. There’s no way I’m going to send him back to his mother after this.” A blood-curdling scream reverberated out in the hall, followed by a woman calling Wesley’s name. “Shit! That must be Winifred.”

  Tonya followed Gage to the hallway, stunned to find a woman clawing at Gage as he tried dislodging himself from her. She had to assume the woman and Gage were around the same age, but his son’s mother looked old enough to have been Gage’s mother. Her face was sallow and pockmarked, body emaciated, and when she opened her mouth, she was missing several teeth. It didn’t take the IQ of a genius to know the woman was abusing meth.

  Tonya felt like she was witnessing a brutal assault captured by police or closed circuit cameras when Gage grabbed the woman’s upper arms and shook her as if she were a rag doll. Winifred was screaming that he was killing her, and Gage retaliated with, “He can’t get clean if you’re on the shit, too!”

  “Let her go, Gage, before you break her arms,” Tonya pleaded as hospital staff and patients came out of their rooms to witness the fracas.

  Winifred’s cloudy blue-gray eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you anywhere near my son. Yes, Gage, my son. I told him the truth when he was fifteen when he asked about you; I told him I didn’t know who his father was, because I wanted him to hate you just like you hated me for being what you wanted me to be.” Spittle had formed at the corners of her mouth.

  A member of hospital security arrived, and Gage told him he didn’t want Winifred anywhere near his son.

  “For the last time, he’s not your son!” she screamed.

  “I may not have fathered him, but it is my name on his birth certificate, and legally that makes him my son.”

  Tonya backed away as if they were carrying a communicable disease. She did not want to believe Gage had asked her to marry him, yet did not trust her enough to tell her about his son’s paternity, even though he knew the boy wasn’t his biological son. Did he believe she would think him a fool for claiming a child belonging to another man? That he’d loved Winifred so much he didn’t care if she’d cheated on him with other men?

  The questions bombarded her as she left the hospital and sat in his car in the parking lot. What if she had consented to marry him? Would he have hidden the truth from her, or would he have been forthcoming because she said yes?

  She punched the start-engine button when he opened the
passenger-side door and got in. “How did it go?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it!”

  “You have to talk about, Gage.”

  “No, I don’t, because it’s none of your business.”

  “You’re right,” she mumbled under her breath. “It is none of my business.” As she drove, she acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world, while her insides were churning like a whirlpool. Tonya parked the car and went inside the house.

  She went into the bedroom, retrieved one of her bags from the closet, and opening and closing drawers, filled the bag with enough clothes to last at least four days.

  Gage was sitting on the sofa when she came down the stairs, and she knew she would never forget the haunted look in his eyes. She left the set of keys to the condo on the dining table and walked out of the house.

  * * *

  Gage watched Tonya walk out of the house and out of his life. He wanted to go after her, but his mind was in so much turmoil he wasn’t able to form a coherent thought. It had been years since he last saw Winifred, and it only took one glance to know why Wesley wasn’t able to stay clean.

  At twenty Wesley was no longer a minor, but he was the only father the boy had ever known. And despite Winifred’s claim he was not his biological father, Wesley’s birth certificate indicated legally he was. He picked up his cell phone and placed a call to his attorney’s office, leaving a voice mail message that it was an emergency.

  He knew he had treated Tonya unfairly when he told her that what went on between him and his ex was none of her business, but he didn’t want to involve her in the ugliness that had begun to plague him within days of exchanging vows with a woman he never should’ve married.

  He tapped Tonya’s number, and the call went directly to voice mail. He left a message for her to return his call. Gage knew his life was in crisis: Wesley was in critical condition from a vicious beating, while he’d practically assaulted his ex after her insane display, and the woman he loved beyond description had walked out on him.

  Four hours later he called Tonya again, nearly pleading with her to call him. Panicking, Gage called local hotels and motels asking for her, but with no success. He decided to wait until Sunday to contact her again. After a good night’s sleep he prayed things would be better.

  Chapter 19

  Gage alternated pounding on the door and ringing the bell. “Open the damned door!”

  He was poised to knock again when the door opened and he came face-to-face with Hannah.

  “Have you lost your mind? Come in before you wake up the entire neighborhood.”

  “I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ve been calling Tonya and leaving messages, and she hasn’t called me back. I thought maybe she was here.” He slumped down in an armchair.

  “What the hell . . .” St. John walked into the living room in a bathrobe. “Come now, kezen, why are you here so early in the morning?”

  Gage gave St. John a death stare. “I’m looking for Tonya.”

  St. John’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “If you don’t know where your woman is, then I can’t help you.”

  Perched on the arm of the chair, Hannah patted Gage’s head. “She was here last night but left early this morning to go back to the guesthouse. The gates are still open, so you’ll be able to get in. Someone from the security company will ask you for ID. I should let you know now that Tonya plans to live at the guesthouse until the workmen tell her she has to leave.”

  Gage stood up and kissed Hannah’s forehead. “Thanks, cousin. I love you.”

  Hannah shared a glance with her husband. “Your family is crazy.”

  St. John smiled. “They’re your family, too.”

  * * *

  Gage felt less anxious when he drove from Marigny to the Garden District. It was an early Sunday morning, and the traffic was light. He maneuvered through the open gates and came to a stop feet from an unmarked dark-colored sedan. A stocky man dressed entirely in black got out and came over to him.

  “ID please.” Rising slightly, he removed the case with his driver’s license from the pocket of his jeans. The man peered closely at his photograph and then returned it. “You can go.”

  Gage parked near the garages and walked to Tonya’s guesthouse. He rang the bell and waited. He was poised to ring it again when he heard Tonya say, “Go away, Gage.”

  “I can’t, Tonya.”

  “If you don’t go away, I’m going to call the police.”

  “Call them. And right now I don’t give a damn. I want you to hear me out, and after that if you don’t want to see me, then I’ll go away and never bother you again.”

  The door opened, and Gage’s heart turned over when he saw Tonya’s face. She’d been crying. He didn’t give her the opportunity to react; he just he swept her up in his arms, carried her to the bedroom, and gently placed her on the bed. He lay next to her, making certain they weren’t touching.

  “I apologize for everything. For you witnessing me at my worst. I had a very confrontational marriage to a woman who raised cuckoldry to an art form. The first time I suspected she was cheating on me I forgave her, but when it happened again I moved out of the bedroom into the one with Wesley. I only stayed because Wesley needed a father. I knew I had to leave when she threw it in my face that Wesley wasn’t mine. That she was six weeks pregnant when she slept with me. I thought about going to court to take Wesley away from her, but a paternity test would prove the boy wasn’t mine, so I continued to send her money for his support.

  “Wesley had just celebrated his fifteenth birthday when his mother told him I wasn’t his father. That’s when he began drinking and drugging. I didn’t see him for years until he was in high school. He told me he wanted to go to college, but his mother wouldn’t sign the forms so he could get financial aid. I told him I’d pay his tuition with the proviso he maintain at least a C average. I was the beneficiary of one of my father’s insurance policies and my mother was the other. I had invested the proceeds because the money I earned working at the restaurant and playing gigs covered my day-to-day expenses.”

  “Wesley’s mother is a meth head, and the only way he’s going to stay clean is if he gets away from her,” Tonya stated.

  “I know that. I’ve already called my attorney for his advice. I know I could ask Hannah, but I don’t want to involve her in my mess.”

  “Once he comes out of rehab, he can move in with you. And if he stays clean, I’ll hire him to work in the restaurant. He can start as a dishwasher and eventually work up to a busboy.”

  “Why would you do that for him?”

  “Because I had a brother who was strung out on drugs. You’re lucky, Gage, because your son is still alive. This past Tuesday would’ve been my brother’s fifty-fourth birthday if he’d lived. He had everything going for him, yet he couldn’t resist selling and taking drugs, and in the end it cost him his life.”

  Gage reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. “Now I know why you were in a funk earlier in the week.”

  “I’m a lot better than I used to be. I’m sorry I judged you without hearing the whole story.”

  “I never told anyone about it. Even my mother still believes Wesley’s her grandson. I appreciate your offer for Wesley to work in your restaurant, but we Toussaints have a rule that—”

  “We won’t work at another restaurant unless it’s owned by a family member,” Tonya said, finishing his statement.

  “How do you know that?”

  “St. John told me.”

  “But there’s still the possibility that he can work for me. Your son deserves to get his life together before it’s too late, and I’m willing to do my part.”

  Shifting slightly, Gage stared at Tonya. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Her dimples winked at him when she smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  Her eyebrows lifted questioningly. “Do I?”

  “Do yo
u recall us talking about the word marry?”

  “I believe I do recall that word.”

  Gage moved over her body, supporting his greater weight on his elbows. “I think we were moving so quickly we didn’t take the time to really get to know each other. It was different for Hannah and St. John because they met each other in high school. I still want to marry you, but I’m willing to wait until you’re ready. And if you agree to become a Toussaint, then be prepared to have two Toussaints working for you: me and Wesley.”

  “You would really come work and with me?”

  “Hell, yeah. I’m even willing to work two jobs—one in the kitchen and the other with the band.”

  Tonya sat up. “Oh, my word! I just came up with the names for the supper club and café.”

  Gage eased her back down to the mattress. “What are they?”

  “Toussaints for the supper club and Martine’s for the café.”

  “How very French,” he crooned. “Now, when do you plan to become an official Toussaint?”

  “June. I’ve always wanted to be a June bride.”

  “Then a June bride you’ll be.”

  “Please let me up, Gage, so I can shower and change. I’m ready to go home so my fiancé can serve me breakfast in bed.”

  “I’ll be in the garden whenever you’re ready.” He didn’t want to tell Tonya that he needed to be alone—alone to pray for his son, to pray for forgiveness, and pray in gratitude that he had met a woman who has restored his faith in love.

  In August 2018, don’t miss

  The next Innkeeper’s story, Jasmine’s

  In

  ROOM SERVICE

  By Rochelle Alers!

  Coming your way from

  Dafina Books

  Tonya and Gage’s New Orleans cuisine recipes!

  Bon appétit!

  BEIGNETS

  2 cups of self-rising flour

  1 Tbsp. Crisco

  1 Tbsp. sugar

  Vegetable oil for frying

  1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted

  1. Combine the flour and Crisco in a bowl with a wire whisk until the mixture resembles coarse cornmeal, with perhaps a few lumps.