To Paris’s utter amazement and permanent gratitude, Donnie had taken Angelique onto his lap like one of his nieces and held her tightly, assuring her that his friend wouldn’t hurt her, and would take her pain away. “Evie, sweetheart, I can look at you and see how much pain you’re in. That cute little face is all swollen and I know you must feel like crap. C’mon, Evie, let’s go make it better, okay?” After those soothing words, Angelique did indeed let him take her to the endodontist, and Donnie even stayed with her during the whole process. Paris suspected that he’d held her hand the entire time. After that incident Angelique and Donnie just didn’t seem to argue as much, not even when he called her Evie, a diminutive of Evilene, the name he’d called her for years when he wanted to push her buttons.
Paris observed her cousin while she slowly sipped her iced tea. Carefully setting her glass down, she decided to wade in with both feet. “So, have you ever thought about dating Donnie? I think he’d be fun to go out with,” she said innocently.
Only a slight redness along her cheekbones betrayed the emotions Angelique was feeling. With admirable restraint, she merely said, “No. Not my type, actually.”
Paris opened her mouth to probe further, but a slight tightening of Angelique’s jaw told her this was dangerous ground. Just then the phone rang, and with a look of pure relief Angelique dashed to answer it. Paris sighed and speared another chunk of pineapple from the remains of her fruit salad. Okay, “not my type," she thought. Whatever you say, cuz. Whatever you say. Then she laughed, knowing that if Aidan were present, he’d give her a good whack on the back of her head and warn her not to do what she was thinking about doing. Not that it would have stopped her. Not in the least.
Chapter Three
While preparing to make dinner in his well-equipped kitchen, Adam was taking great pleasure in raking his younger brother over the coals. He was amused at Donnie’s current angst and to some small degree he sympathized with it, but wasn’t about to let him get away with his behavior.
“Adonis, what is wrong with you? Why were you so rude to Angelique? You were acting like she turned you down instead of Aneesah. What’s your problem?” he asked bluntly.
Donnie frowned at Adam and took another swallow from his bottle of mineral water. “Okay, I admit I was less than cordial to Evilene, but that’s how we communicate. It’s just how we get down,” he mumbled.
Adam shook his head as he assembled ingredients on the counter. “Don’t you think it’s a little childish, Donnie? I can’t believe my brother talks to a woman like that,” he said disapprovingly.
“Aww, man, Evie doesn’t trip over it, why does it bother you? She likes to play and she can take it. She can also dish it out,” he said with a short laugh. His mind automatically drifted back to another incident that had occurred shortly after she came to Detroit. Donnie hadn’t liked the idea of Angelique staying in the garage apartment behind Renee and Andrew’s house that was known as the Outhouse and made his position plain. Even now he felt a little warmth in his face when he recalled the things he’d said.
Angelique had been playing with his nieces in another part of the house while he’d been venting to Renee. “I just think you’re asking for trouble having her here, Renee. Let her stay in a hotel or something, you don’t need her underfoot. And you don’t need to be waiting hand and foot on the little princess, either.”
Renee had been busy folding laundry and barely looked up from her task. “Donnie, I don’t know why you’re behaving like this. Angelique may have been a handful at one time, but she’s turned into a very nice young woman, which you might realize if you’d stop to take a look. Besides, she’s wonderful with the girls; they adore her. And for your information, she’s a big help to me.”
Donnie cringed now as he remembered his next words. Even after months had passed, he was still embarrassed by what he’d said. “That just goes to show you, children don’t know any better. That woman is a waste of skin. There isn’t one redeemable feature about her, Renee.” No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a soft gasp behind him. He’d turned to find Angelique standing there with a stricken look on her face, and felt himself shrivel up inside as he watched her cover her mouth with a slender hand. Before he could say a word, she had dashed out the back door, leaving him alone with Renee, who was glaring at him as though he were the worst scum on earth. He’d immediately taken off after Angelique to apologize, when he suddenly had the breath knocked out of him— Angelique had leaped on his back and grabbed his ears to use as reins.
“A waste of skin, huh? I got your waste of skin right here, you overgrown tree! You thought I was out here crying, didn’t you? Well, I got news for you, buddy, I don’t shed tears, I cause them!” And to Donnie’s utter amazement, they ended up wrestling like children and chasing each other around the backyard to the consternation of Renee and the delight of his nieces, who thought it was some sort of game.
Donnie laughed out loud at the memory. That was one of the things he had to admire about Angelique: she was tough and more than capable of taking care of herself, and also had a surprising sense of humor. They had actually started having a little fun with their adversarial relationship after that. And he had apologized for the incident all the same, an apology she accepted with no comment.
Adam looked over his shoulder at his brother, who was lost in thought. “I still think you need to watch how you talk to Angelique. You wouldn’t like it if someone talked to Benita like that,” he pointed out.
Donnie’s thick eyebrows drew together at the mention of his sister’s name; his protective instincts leaped to the fore immediately. Donnie was, like all Cochran men, territorial and almost paternalistic when it came to taking care of those they cared about. “Well, of course I wouldn’t put up with that. Nobody better talk to my sister like that, even if they call themselves playing. I ain’t having that,” he growled, then became silent for a moment contemplating what Adam had said. It was true, Angelique was someone’s sister, too, and it was probably time he remembered that. Besides, he wouldn’t have wanted anything bad to happen to her.
“I understand what you’re saying, but believe me, Adam, she gets me as good as I get her. I admit it I used to like to get her going by calling her Evilene, but she just turned the tables on me and started calling me SpongeBob. And she doesn’t just call me SpongeBob—I have a SpongeBob bumper sticker on my Jag that I certainly didn’t authorize, not to mention about a thousand SpongeBob toys she gives to the kids to give to me. She told them how much their Uncle Donnie loves that stupid cartoon, and bless their little hearts, they believed her. She actually sent a singing, dancing SpongeBob telegram to the office one day. That was real jolly,” he said with a laugh. “And on top of everything else, she manages to put a SpongeBob sticker on me every time we’re within twenty feet of each other. As a matter of fact, check me out,” he said, jumping to his feet. He turned around slowly and heard Adam’s shout of laughter. There was indeed a small sticker, bearing the guilelessly smiling cartoon character, stuck discreetly on his left shoulder.
“She’s good, man. Really good,” said Adam in a voice of admiration. “Maybe you should think about getting with her since you both share the same warped sense of humor.”
Donnie reached for the sticker, and then looked at his brother as though he’d lost his mind. Surveying the array of ingredients on the long counter, he asked what Adam was preparing; Adam liked to cook, but he generally didn’t go for elaborate meals, and this one looked like it required everything but the kitchen sink.
“Alicia’s coming over and she’s making paella. If you behave yourself she might let you stay,” Adam replied. Alicia Fuentes was Adam’s business partner and best friend. They were both architects who not only designed new buildings, but had a passion for reclaiming neglected and abandoned structures. They had been friends since college and enjoyed an exceptionally close personal, as well as a working, relationship.
“So, Adam, when are you going to admit t
hat Alicia is the only woman in the world for you? When are y’all gonna take it to the next level?” Donnie drawled.
Adam stroked his thick mustache with a forefinger and fixed his brother with an icy stare. He was an extremely private person when it came to his love life and he didn’t appreciate inquisition, even from a family member. “You’re my brother and I love you. I may even like you, but Alicia is not a topic for discussion now or ever. Got it?”
Donnie was saved from answering by three short chimes, which meant Alicia was at the door; they didn’t have to answer it, as she had her own key, just like Adam had a key to her place. In seconds a tall, shapely woman carrying two shopping bags joined the two men. Donnie took her coat while Adam divested her of the bags. “Hi, Donnie!” she said cheerfully. “Are you staying for dinner?” She accompanied the words with a brief kiss on his cheek.
“Yes, if I’m invited. I love anything you cook, Alicia, you know that.” She’d learned to cook from her African-American mother and Cuban father. Thanks to them, Alicia had a grasp of cooking that rivaled that of a Cordon Bleu trained chef. While watching Alicia wash her hands and Adam empty the shopping bags, Donnie remembered that Angelique hadn’t given him a gift from his sister; she had told him she’d planned to drop it off at his house, but, since he was being snippy, he could instead pick it up at the open house she and Paris were having the day after New Year’s.
Alicia looked up to find him with a dazed look on his face, and playfully snapped a dish towel at him. “Hey, you. If you eat, you work. Put on the Buena Vista Social Club CD and an apron. How are you at scrubbing mussels?”
Soon the lilting sounds of Cuban music filled the loft and the three of them were busy putting the savory paella together. All thoughts of spurned engagements and feisty little women from Atlanta vanished and Donnie once again felt like himself. Unfortunately, the effect didn’t last very long.
***
Paris and Angelique observed New Year’s Eve very differently than most people; they had evolved a unique way of celebrating over the past few years. Neither one of them liked the idea of going out trying desperately to have a good time, so when Paris moved to Atlanta, she and Angelique began going to church to pray in the New Year with a quiet family worship service, and then spent the evening with family, usually at Bennie and Clay’s home. The next day would be an open house at Lillian and Bump’s house where everyone wandered in and out and the men congregated in front of the big-screen television for a football orgy. This year would mark their first New Year’s in Detroit, but their plans were about the same.
“Paris, are you ready? We need to leave early so we can get a seat,” Angelique called out. She was ready to go, sitting in the kitchen watching CNN on the small television mounted under the cupboards. She was dressed exquisitely as always, and warmly, too, in a simple black skirt that buttoned all the way down one side, a pair of low-heeled black boots and a cashmere sweater in a luscious shade of raspberry pink that made her toffee skin glow. She wore a simple gold chain with a big pearl dangling from it, and matching pearl studs in her ears.
The only jewelry on her hands was a dainty gold ring with a small pearl, bordered by two tiny peridots, which were her birthstone. She also wore two slender bangle bracelets, a silver one on one wrist and a gold one on the other. The ring had been given to her as a child and she always wore it on special occasions; she never took the bracelets off. Her nails were short and neatly shaped with a clear polish as their only adornment; Angelique used her hands too much to fuss with elaborate manicures. Now her fingers anxiously stroked the soft leather of the cashmere-lined kid gloves that lay on the table with her scarf, gloves and purse. “Paris, what are you doing?” she called in exasperation.
It was ironic the way their roles had reversed over the years. A few years ago Paris would have been cooling her heels while Angelique took her own sweet time to make sure every hair was in place and her makeup was perfect. Paris would have had her customary quick shower, thrown on one of her oversized outfits, pulled her hair into a ponytail and been ready to go while Angelique primped. It had never bothered Angelique one bit to keep people waiting, as she liked making an entrance too much to worry about being on time. But now it actually meant something to her to be on time. A.J. had taught her the importance of being reliable in business, and that meant always being prompt. Being prompt meant you took your job seriously and you respected the people with whom you were working. And it meant you respected yourself as well.
Paris appeared in the kitchen with an apology on her lips. “Sorry it took so long. Let’s go!” In short order the two women were on their way to the A.M.E. church they attended with the Cochrans. The midnight watch service was spiritually moving and uplifting, and also shorter than the one that took place on Sunday mornings. Afterward everyone went over to Andre’s house for a midnight buffet and a quiet family celebration. Andre and his twin brother, Alan, usually hosted the New Year’s festivities. There would be a traditional New Year’s dinner at Alan’s the next day, with the usual attention to the various bowl games.
Even Donnie was less grumpy after the religious service; at least he was until he caught a glimpse of Angelique. She was talking to his father and stepmother and looked good enough to eat. And, he noticed for the first time, she had more booty than he realized; he actually cocked his head to one side and was staring at her high, tight derriere in the slim-fitting black skirt like he’d never seen a fanny before. Fortunately, only Adam caught him doing so. He had materialized next to Donnie and seemed vastly amused at the look in Donnie’s eyes.
“Stop staring, bro, you’re beginning to drool,” Adam said slyly.
Busted. There wasn’t anything Donnie could say when he’d obviously been caught doing exactly what Adam said he was doing. He narrowed his eyes at his brother and slunk off to the buffet table, but it wasn’t an escape because Angelique was there, busily filling two plates with food. He watched her in silence for about two seconds, then commented on her gargantuan appetite.
“This is for Miss Martha and Mr. C,” Angelique said, without looking at him. “Older people don’t like to mess around with buffets, you should know that” She managed to take the two plates of food with napkins and utensils to where his father and stepmother waited, all without looking at him one time.
Suddenly Donnie’s appetite deserted him, while his thirst became unbearable. He went into the kitchen to find a huge glass, and was in the process of filling it with ice and water from the refrigerator’s dispenser when he detected the faint temptation of Angelique’s perfume. Sure enough, there she was behind him, holding two glasses and waiting for her turn at the water. And this time she was looking right at him. He looked at her and could feel his face heating up, although for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. He gulped the water rapidly and would have filled the glass again, had Angelique not spoken.
“Adonis, you don’t look too happy,” she said frankly. “It’s not good luck to start the New Year with a bad disposition, you know.”
Donnie rolled the cold glass between his palms, trying to cool off the burst of warmth that had encompassed him. He eyed her warily as she set down her two glasses on the cupboard.
“It’s not? Well, I sure don’t want to have any bad luck,” he mumbled. He looked at the water glass in his hand as though it were a relic from an alien civilization. He’d seen one of these before; he just couldn’t remember what it was for. Angelique seemed to know, however, as she took it from his hand and set it on the cupboard with the ones she’d just discarded.
“I don’t want you to have any bad luck either, Adonis,” she said as she came closer to him. “I want you to have a happy New Year.” And taking hold of the front of his cashmere sweater, she gently pulled him down to her level and kissed him softly and sweetly.
***
The new year dawned bright and cold. There was no snow to speak of, but in Michigan, you never knew about the weather. Angelique lived in hope that there wo
uld be a big snow, and soon. She found that the cold weather of her new home suited her and she was anxious for a huge snowfall; she’d never had the chance to really play in the snow. While Paris was relaxing in the living room, Angelique was in her bedroom, rearranging her already fastidiously organized closet. She’d also taken everything out of her dresser drawers and put in new scented liners, dusted and polished all the furniture and put clean linens on the bed. She’d also done a couple of loads of laundry. Angelique didn’t believe in starting a new year with dirty clothes in the house Finally, she stood in the middle of her bedroom and surveyed her surroundings. Everything was sparkling clean, the way she liked it. The rest of the house was immaculate as always, and everything was ready for the open house the next day. She walked over to the window and looked out; maybe a long walk would do her some good, blow some of the cobwebs away. She was in the same pensive pose when Paris’s voice came though her doorway.
“My goodness, woman, you’re like a machine! Come work some of that magic in my room, you know it needs it,” Paris said cheerfully.
Angelique followed Paris into her sunny bedroom and quickly hung up the few garments arrayed on the bed and the small slipper chair. Paris guiltily gathered up the magazines spread across the bed and put them on the small desk that sat in front of the large window in lieu of a dressing table. “These are like homework for me,” she confessed. “I read all of TDG’s publications and everybody else’s, too, just to stay current with the industry. Once my internship here is over I’ll be just about ready to assume a permanent position in Atlanta, and, I have to tell you, I’m not quite sure what I want to do. My bachelor’s degree is in journalism but that MBA in leadership is pulling me in another direction,” she continued as she rearranged the items on her desktop.
While Paris was talking, Angelique had stripped the bed, dispatched the linens to the hallway and fetched clean sheets from the linen closet. She was almost finished making the bed when she suddenly whirled around and looked at her cousin.
A Merry Little Christmas Page 4