Then there was that part about his needing to talk to her. Heaven only knew what that was about. Maybe he wanted to tell her in person that he loved her still…but maybe it was something completely different.
She went back and forth and finally decided a second opinion was called for. There wasn’t a telephone directory in her room, and she didn’t want to venture outside of her room for reasons she didn’t understand but suspected had roots in silly superstition. She picked up the extension and dialed Information, stifling a giggle when a booming baritone voice answered, “Directory Assistance; may I help you?” She knew it was sexist, but she’d never get used to these male telephone operators.
“I’d like the number for the Beginnings Bridal Salon on Main Street, please.”
Excitement and anticipation contributed to her messing up the number twice, but the third time she got it right. Unfortunately, disappointment awaited her, for Ava’s assistant informed her that Ava was coordinating a wedding this afternoon. That meant they wouldn’t be able to talk until tonight.
Linda walked over to the window. It had warmed up to perhaps the low sixties, but the skies were overcast, with the threat of rain. What a lousy day to get married.
*****
By two o’clock, when it was time to leave for the church, the gray skies darkened and the rain came down in torrents. Ava made a fist and banged her thigh. She should have known this would happen. If only the rain had held off just a little longer.
She reached for the three large multicolored golf umbrellas she’d brought into the house. She kept them in the trunk of her car to guard against for downpours. “Why don’t we hold off about ten minutes to see if it lightens up?” she suggested to the anxious bride and her father. “Usually when it comes down this hard it only lasts a few minutes.”
She was right. By two-ten the rain, while still a steady downpour, had slowed sufficiently to make it possible to get into the limousine without getting saturated.
Ava placed an oversized raincoat around the bride’s shoulders, handed her an umbrella and gathered her train for her to carry over her arm. She then gestured to the limo driver from the shelter of the doorway, who got out from behind the wheel and opened his own golf umbrella, the primary colors of each panel brightening the dismal afternoon. He crossed to the passenger side and stood poised to open the back door of the vehicle when the bride approached.
Ava stood and watched as the chauffeur helped the bride climb into her seat, hampered by the folds of her gown’s full skirt. She handed a second umbrella to the maid of honor, who would have an easier time of it because her hemline only grazed her shoes.
“Oh, my,” the attendant exclaimed once she stepped away from the protective shelter of the doorway’s overhang. “There must be two inches of water on this ground.” She shook her dress after having inadvertently stepped in a puddle.
Ava watched her progress down the walk toward the waiting limousine, taking baby steps as if to protect the dyed cranberry-colored pumps on her feet. The standing puddles on the ground took on a crimson hue.
“No!” Ava cried out suddenly.
The maid of honor turned around in confusion. “Something wrong?”
“You have to come back,” Ava shouted.
“What’s wrong, Ava?” the bride’s father asked.
“Mr. Turner, I’m going to need a blanket or quilt and two plastic bags, the kind groceries are packed in.”
“Sure. I’ll get them for you.”
Ava took the blanket from the bride’s father handed her and brought it out to the car. “You’ll have to wrap this around your dress from your waist down to your shoes,” she told the bride. “Don’t let your honor attendant get near you until you’re done.”
She hurried back up the walk and addressed the maid of honor. “The dye on your shoes isn’t colorfast, at least not in this rain. If it gets on Destiny’s dress it’ll ruin it, so the moment you get in the car you’ll have to take them off and put them inside a plastic bag. She’s wrapping the skirt of her dress in a quilt for extra protection.”
“I never thought of that,” Mr. Turner mused. “It would have been awful for Destiny to get dark red spots on her beautiful white dress. Both she and my wife would be crying.” He grinned. “You’re a genius, Ava.”
“That’s what you pay me for, Mr. Turner.”
*****
Marcus gripped the arms of the high-backed chair. “Is this going to hurt?”
“X-rays don’t hurt, Marcus,” Maria replied. “Now open wide and don’t bite down until I say so.”
It took nearly a half hour to get the full set of x-rays. Maria was amazed to see that Marcus, who claimed he had never been to a dentist, did not have a single cavity. He had told her his grandmother insisted he brush his teeth after every meal, and apparently he wasn’t kidding. “Okay,” she said. “We’re going to do a cleaning, and then I’m show you how to use floss, and then you’ll be done.”
“Is that gonna take long?” Marcus sounded impatient, but Maria suspected he was tickled to be included in the checkups she gave her own children. It probably made him feel like he belonged.
“Nope. And it won’t hurt, either, and you’ll be in the clear until next week.”
“What happens next week?” Marcus asked, his voice low with suspicion.
“You’re going to see Uncle Larry. He’s a pediatrician, and he’s going to give you guys physicals while I check out Nathaniel’s and Emily’s teeth. Between us we’ve pretty much got you kid’s health sewn up.”
“Wow. That’s neat. How come Aunt Ava’s not a doctor, too?”
“Technically, I’m a dentist, not a medical doctor. But Ava was too squeamish. She doesn’t like the sight of blood.”
He made a face. “I don’t like it much myself.”
*****
After briefly checking in with the banquet manager at the hotel where the reception was being held, Ava left the reception. The three-tiered chocolate wedding cake had just been served. The bouquet and garter had been tossed, speeches made, and now all there was to do was to party for another half hour or so, when the revelers, slowed down by the consumption of a four-course dinner plus wedding cake, would no doubt be ready to go home.
She made a quick stop to check Kendall’s duplex as promised, then headed for Maria’s to pick up Marcus. As she drove she wondered what Hilton was doing tonight. They had seen each other briefly during the week when he delivered Marcus to Beginnings after work, but hadn’t progressed past small talk. Yesterday he’d asked what she was doing over the weekend, and she reminded him that she had a wedding on Saturday. He had not responded, and she considered he probably needed to spend some quality time with Max. Still, it gave her a feeling of emptiness to realize that they might not see each other at all this weekend. It all seemed so silly. He was in love with her, and she with him…even though he didn’t know it yet. They needed to concentrate on that and put all the bad stuff behind. Hilton deserved to know how she felt about him…and most important of all, they should be together, not apart. She savored the time they made love and craved his touch, craved the feel of his hard length inside her.
Conducting a sex life would be challenging with two curious and active little boys around…
“You look beat,” Maria said in greeting when she opened the door.
“It’s been a long day, but there’s another happy, newlywed couple, so it’s all good,” Ava replied.
“Why don’t you come in for a while?”
“Thanks, but I just want to get Marcus and go home. It’s after eight, and Khufu’s probably whining like crazy to go out.”
*****
Marcus had eaten dinner at Maria’s, and Ava had eaten at the reception, so there was no need to stop for take-out. She drove straight home.
She’d barely evened up the car against the curb when Marcus exclaimed, “There’s a note on the door, Aunt Ava!” He was out of the car and up the porch stairs before she could take the keys out
of the ignition.
“It’s from Mr. Hilton,” he informed her as she slowly made her way to the front door. “He says he and Max were here and they’ll be back later.”
Suddenly Ava’s feet felt lighter. It would not be a weekend without Hilton after all.
Khufu, as expected, was waiting anxiously at the door, wagging his tail and making those noises that made him sound like a spoiled child. “Hey, boy,” Ava said. “I know you’ve been holding it.”
“Aunt Ava, let me take him.”
She hesitated. “You’ll have to use the Pooper Scooper.”
“I know how. I’ve seen you do it a bunch of times.”
“Well…only because I’m kind of tired.”
“I’ll get his leash.”
Ava smiled at Marcus’s enthusiasm. It was infectious. She felt a burst of energy herself just from being with him. She watched as he snapped Khufu’s leash into place. “Don’t take too long. I’ll be right here when you come back.” She wanted to take a shower and change clothes before Hilton returned, but she wanted Marcus back in the house before she got started.
She slipped out of her heels and walked to the fireplace. It was a cool night, and she thought a fire would be nice. She wrapped a heavy log in newspaper and lit it with a long kitchen match. Within moments the fire was blazing orange sparks.
Ava examined the living room, but everything met her scrutiny except for an oak tag folder on one of the end tables. She picked it up as she sank into the sofa. It was Marcus’s schoolwork.
His intelligence was not limited to just street smarts, she realized as she took in the A and B+ marks. If he kept up these grades his future would be unlimited. Thank God she’d gotten him off the streets.
She was reading an essay he had written when he returned. She put the folder on the coffee table. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You’re not to open the door until you make sure it’s Hilton. Don’t go by voice alone; look through the window so there’s no doubt.”
She changed into jeans and a loose-fitting crew neck sweater, slipping her Bullwinkle slippers on her feet for warmth. As she was dressing she heard the doorbell ring and, after a few moments, the sound of Hilton’s and Max’s voices downstairs. She applied a subtle rust-colored lipstick to give her face some color, but the phone rang before she could join them.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly into the receiver. She planned to rush whoever it was off the line, but found herself listening with growing excitement as Linda launched into recounting the conversation she’d had with Neil. “Oh, Linda; I’m soooo happy for you! Yes, of course I think it’s a good sign. He wants to see you. Did he say when he’s coming? Okay, but you let me know when he calls back, okay? And aren’t you glad you poured out your heart to him in that letter?” She laughed as Linda agreed.
“Hilton just got here, Linda, so I’ll have to call you tomorrow. All right. And keep smilin’, honey!” She made the sound of a smacking kiss into the receiver.
Ava hung up the phone, delighted for her friend. Then she rushed to the stairs but carefully paused at the landing to saunter down like she was a presenter at the Academy Awards so she wouldn’t look too eager.
As she expected, all three of them howled at the sight of her oversized slippers. She playfully preened under the arched doorway of the living room. Instinctively she went to give Max a hug, but when he went limp in her arms she wished she hadn’t. What had she done to make him dislike her, she wondered.
Ava was glad Hilton was seated at an angle where he could not see his son’s unfriendly reaction toward her.
Or so she thought. When she turned to face him he was staring at Max through narrowed eyes, his handsome features set in a mask of fury.
“Why don’t you boys go up to Marcus’s room?” he suggested tightly. “Ava and I want to watch something else.”
He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his head bowed, as Marcus and Max complied, Khufu trotting at their heels. He remained in that position even after they were gone.
“Hilton? Are you all right?”
“No.” Then he straightened, leaning back into the couch and blowing out his breath. “I’m sorry, Ava. I’ve noticed the change in Max’s behavior toward you, and I talked to him about it. He insists there’s no problem, but after what I just saw there clearly is.”
Sitting in the chair closes to him, she tried to be diplomatic. “I think you might be making too much of it, Hilton. I’ll bet it’s nothing more than him missing his mother and being a little upset because I’m here and she’s not.”
“I thought about that, too, but he behaved rudely, and there’s no excuse for that, Ava. I’m not going to tolerate it.”
“I don’t want to come between you and your son—”
“You’re not to worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll get to the bottom of it.” He muttered unintelligible words of frustration under his breath. She went and sat beside him, leaned to the side and picked up Marcus’s folder from the coffee table, then leaned toward him, settling her head against his broad chest. She longed as well as needed to be close to him, but by not facing him directly she could also give him the space he needed to think about this latest problem as well.
“This is Marcus’s schoolwork,” she remarked. “He gets fabulous grades, all As and Bs.”
Hilton remained quiet, but the feel of his long fingers stroking her arm was enough.
She continued looking at the papers. It didn’t appear that Marcus had a weak subject. He excelled in math, science, English and social studies.
His artwork was on the bottom of the pile. Ava glanced at the typical childhood drawings of landscapes and animals. Then she saw one with people, four figures whose faces and awkwardly straight arms and legs had been filled in with brown crayon. There was a large, tall man, a shorter woman with reddish-brown hair and two boys. “My family,” was written in neat print below.
She sat up with a start. “Hilton! Look at this.”
He studied the drawing. “I’d guess this is supposed to be you, me, Marcus and Max.”
“But do you see what he wrote?”
“He considers us his family. That’s not surprising, all things considered. When we’re together it’s like we belong in one of those old sitcoms he watches on Nickelodeon, Beaver and those other shows with no black people,” he said dryly.
“Well, I think it’s sweet. I’m actually getting all choked up.”
“If childhood wishes shape our adulthood, family will be at or near the top of Marcus’s list, provided he doesn’t get hardened or decide he doesn’t care.”
“That won’t happen if I’ve got anything to say about it.” Her voice had a fierce tone to it.
“I think he’s going to be just fine with you. Now, you come here.” He shifted so he was sitting lengthwise on the couch, then pulled her so she was comfortably wedged between his legs. “Mmm. That’s more like it.”
She returned the folder to the coffee table. “Ooh, that’s nice.”
One of Hilton’s arms was casually but possessively draped over her middle; with his other hand he reached for the remote control.
“Hey, looks like The Godfather’s on,” he said, stopping at a scene with a young Al Pacino in period clothing. “And it’s a premium cable channel. That means the good stuff is left in.”
“Yeah, but the movie’s half over, so if you were expecting to see a horse’s head you can forget it.”
They watched in silence as Al Pacino’s character tried to convince Diane Keaton to marry him after his disappearance from her life for a period of several years. “It’s important that we have children; our children,” he was saying.
Ava’s jaw stiffened. “If she really wanted to be rid of him, she should have told him she couldn’t have kids. I’ll bet he would have left her alone in a hurry if he knew he couldn’t expect to have an heir.”
Hilton nuzzled her neck. “Relax,” he whispered. “It’s not important. Not to me.”
&
nbsp; She had an instant recollection of her mother’s words…‘It’s become the focus of your life, and it shouldn’t be.’ She reluctantly acknowledged to herself that she had years and years worth of resentment to deal with, and that getting through it all would be quite challenging.
Ava squealed when Hilton’s hand made its way under her sweater and up to her caress her breasts through the thin nylon of her bra. “Hilton!” she hissed.
“I’ve missed touching you, Ava.”
“I’ve missed having your hands on me,” she replied simply. “But what if the boys see us?”
“I banished them upstairs, remember?”
They watched the rest of the movie, and when it ended they learned it was being followed by Part II of the series. “I’d better check the boys,” Ava said, gently breaking away from Hilton’s firm hand.
“I’ve got an idea. Let Max spend the night.”
Ava immediately opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. This situation called for delicacy and carefully chosen words. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, what with Max so obviously not fond of me. The moment you’re gone he’s likely to defy me, which would put me in a bad spot.” Sometimes she didn’t understand Hilton at all. How could he even make a suggestion like that? If anything she’d think he would want to bring Max home and insist on getting to the bottom of the problem he just acknowledged existed. Once again she wondered what she had done to the child to make him dislike her so. The first time she met Max he was a sweet, shy kid; but after that he acted like he wished she was invisible. And Hilton’s lazy smile while she struggled to come up with an inoffensive response only increased her annoyance.
“Trust me,” he said. “It’ll be fine. I’ll even go up and give them the good news.”
She heard the joyful whoops coming from upstairs. It made her smile, but she was filled with apprehension. She was terrified of what would happen if Max acted up in Hilton’s absence. She could picture him running to his dad with some trumped-up tale about how mean she’d been to him. She and Hilton would exchange unkind words that would lead to heaven only knew where. Couldn’t he see this was only asking for trouble?
A Love of Her Own Page 23