A Love of Her Own

by Bettye Griffin

  He came back down within five minutes. “They’re putting on their pajamas. Marcus lent Max a pair of his. I told them they could come down for a snack after they were ready for bed, even though they don’t have to go to sleep yet.”

  “I usually let Marcus stay up on Saturdays. It’s not even nine-thirty yet.”

  “I like the idea of a snack. What’ve you got?”

  She shrugged. “Not a whole lot, I’m afraid. Half a bag of barbecue chips, some baloney and cheese, part of a roast chicken…”

  “A chicken sandwich and chips sounds good. I’ll make it; you just stay there and relax. Can I make one for you, too?”

  “Yes, but make mine toast. And I like those banana pepper rings on my chicken sandwiches. They’re on the door of the fridge.”

  Ava enjoyed being curled up on the couch with Hilton as they watched the intricate flash-forward, flash-back plotline of The Godfather, Part II. During intermission they climbed the stairs and found that both boys had fallen asleep. “I guess I’ll have to get a bed for Marcus,” Ava said as she adjusted the covers. “This foldout isn’t really meant for everyday use.” They quietly left the room, and she flicked off the light switch, leaving only a night light on. After she closed the door Hilton asked her a question.

  “Ava, have Marcus’s grandparents filled out some kind of papers making you his guardian? You’re essentially providing his support, and I think you’re entitled to take a tax deduction for it. I wouldn’t recommend you take it unless it’s all legal, though, or else you risk trouble with the IRS.”

  “We talked about it. I’m not so much concerned about a tax deduction as I am about having some kind of legal document. I told them I’d have something prepared for all of us to sign, but I haven’t gotten around to doing it yet. I will, though.”

  “Maybe you should be concerned about getting that deduction. I’m growing a little concerned about you, sweetheart. Legal fees can be expensive. I noticed Marcus had on new clothes today, and now you’re talking about buying him a bed.”

  “I’m certainly no Oprah, but I’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.” She led him to the landing.

  “I remember I bought Max a real nice bed when he was outgrowing his crib,” Hilton recalled as they descended the stairs. “It was the kind of bed that had guardrails on it that could be removed and could bring him all the way through his teen years. Janelle let him keep sleeping in his crib, and she gave the bed to her sister to use for one of her kids. I was p.o.’d big time.”

  “That’s too bad. Did he ever get to use it?”

  “Yeah, after maybe three years or so.” He grew quiet, and she could tell he had something on his mind. “Ava, I’m going to ask you to promise me something,” he finally said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Promise me you’ll hold off on getting Marcus a bed.”

  Chapter 20

  She turned to face him, shaking her head in confusion. “Hold off? That’s a strange request. Why would you want me to do that?”

  “I can’t tell you. All I can do as ask you to trust me. Do you?”

  “You haven’t given me any reason not to, so far.”

  “Gee, thanks,” he replied dryly.

  Ava lowered her eyes. What am I supposed to say, that I’m madly in love with you? Which I am. “All right, let me rephrase. I trust you, Hilton. I think you’re one of the most trustworthy men I’ve ever known.”

  He studied her expression, half expecting to see a smile that indicated she was joking, but she appeared to be serious. That made him feel incredibly good, but he kept the mood light. “That’s more like it. Just give it sixty days. Fair enough?”

  “Deal.”

  They settled back on the sofa and resumed watching the movie. When it ended it was after one a.m. and Ava was dozing off in Hilton’s arms. Wouldn’t it be nice if instead of bidding him good night at the door he could go upstairs with her…

  “Time for bed,” he said cheerfully, shaking her awake.

  “Yes, it’s been a long—” she broke off when she saw he was busy turning of the television, making sure the fire was completely out and picking up his shoes. He made no attempt to put them on, she noticed.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Hilton…are you planning on spending the night?”

  “Don’t you want me to?”

  He was so matter-of-fact, she thought. After sitting in a comfortable embrace for the last several hours with his hand periodically stroking and squeezing her breasts, her entire body craved the culmination of their intimacy. “Of course I do, Hilton, but how are we supposed to conceal your presence from the kids?”

  “I’ll get up at dawn and finish sleeping on the couch. They’ll never know the difference.”

  She quickly realized he was right and broke into a wide grin. “Last one upstairs is a rotten egg!”

  They were laughing as they raced to her bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

  “You know,” Hilton began as he moved his body over hers, “I think one day the kids will have to get used to you and I sharing a bed.”

  Ava frowned. This moment belonged to her and Hilton. The last thing she wanted to think about now was the boys. If Max continued to be so cold toward her, she and Hilton would have no future at all.

  But Hilton didn’t notice her discomfort. He ran his tongue sensuously over her mouth, then forced her lips apart with a gentle thrust. Ava’s arms went around his neck and she returned his kiss with an abandon she’d never known.

  Once they were undressed he tantalized her flesh, re-acquainting himself with the lushness of her breasts and the gently rounded plane of her stomach. When she felt his tongue in the recess of her belly button she sat up with a start. “Ooh, that tickles!”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Your belly button is perfect.”

  “It’s just like anybody else’s.”

  “Not mine. I had a hernia when I was small, and they had to sew it back into place. It looks man-made.”

  “Oh, you had one of those ‘outees.’ I wanna see.”

  They enjoyed a playful exploration of each other’s builds, but when he poised his hard body atop hers the mood changed. He gazed at her with such naked tenderness that she shivered in the warm room. His lips brushed her closed eyelids before pressing his cheek against hers, and although he didn’t say a word Ava had never felt so treasured.

  When they were joined the mood changed once again, and they came together quickly and furiously, their passion demanding to be satisfied. Electricity seemed to arc through her, and when it was over Ava realized she had been using her palms to hold up her legs by the calves because her muscles were too weak to do it on their own.

  As she settled into sleep in the arms of the man she loved she tried to tell herself it was only because her body had grown unaccustomed to making love, but the warning bell in her head telling her something was wrong wouldn’t relent.

  *****

  Hilton awoke at seven a.m. Ava was asleep beside him, her buttocks snug against his groin. He raised himself on one elbow in order to see her better. The covers were pulled up to her neck, leaving only her face exposed. He took a few moments to listen to the soft, even breaths coming from her nostrils. He hated to leave the warmth of her body to sleep on the comfortable but impersonal sofa, but the boys would probably be getting up within the next hour. He pulled back the covers and reached for his clothing.

  When he was dressed he slid back on the bed, carefully peeled back the quilt to reveal her bare shoulder and planted a kiss on her warm skin. “I love you, Ava,” he whispered. “And I’m not giving up that one day soon you’ll love me, too.”

  Ava’s eyes opened, then closed. Half-awakened by the feel of his lips on her shoulder but too overcome by fatigue to go downstairs after him and tell him he was right, that she did love him, she quickly returned to her slumber…but not before a single tear of happiness slowly slid down her cheek and splashed onto her pillow.

  *****
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br />   It was ten past eight when Max gave Hilton a wake-up pinch of his nose. “Good morning, Daddy.”

  “Hey, Dude. You up already?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t think you were here.”

  Hilton yawned. “Didn’t I promise you I’d be here when you woke up?” As the boy nodded, Hilton looked around. He didn’t see Marcus and decided he must still be asleep. This would be a good time for a few private words with his son. “Come here, Maxwell. I want to talk to you.”

  Max, accustomed to being addressed as either ‘Dude’ or ‘Max’ but not his full name, took slow steps to the other side of the sofa and sat down, the sleeves of his borrowed too-big pajamas rolled up to keep them from covering his hands. “Yes, Daddy?”

  “I saw your reaction when Ava hugged you last night. You looked like you’d rather be hugged by a grizzly bear. Now, we’ve had this discussion before, and I’m sorry to have to tell you I don’t believe you when you say there isn’t a problem. I want you to tell me what it is about Ava that upsets you.”

  Max shrugged. “I’m afraid she’s gonna try to be my mommy.”

  “Try to be your mommy? You already have a mommy. Ava knows that. And I haven’t seen her be anything but friendly toward you. There’s a big difference between trying to make someone comfortable and trying to take over, and I can assure you Ava’s not the type of person to do that. But that raises a point, Max. Did you worry about this when Mommy married Donald and told you he was your other daddy? Did you think Donald would try to take my place?”

  The boy looked surprised, as if that had never occurred to him. “No.”

  “So why are you afraid of Ava if you weren’t afraid of Donald? Both you and Mommy have told me he wasn’t even very nice to you, but on the other hand, Ava’s only treated you kindly, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “So why?” Hilton pressed. “Why did you accept Donald so readily but be so reluctant to accept Ava?”

  “Because Mommy told me to watch out for her. She said Miss Ava was going to try to take her place as my mommy and shut her out.”

  Hilton slapped the back support of the sofa with his open palm. Janelle. No wonder. The woman was truly vile. It wasn’t enough that she had used him, but now that he had found a chance at happiness she was doing her best to interfere.

  “I’m going to tell you something, Max. I never wanted to object to anything your mother told you, but this has to be cleared up. You have one mother and one father. Your mother and I weren’t married, but when she married Donald he became your stepfather. I don’t like your calling him Daddy, because I’m the only daddy you have. Of course, if I were in Heaven or wasn’t a part of your life for some other reason it would be different, but that’s not the case. I am a part of your life. If I were to marry Ava I wouldn’t expect you to call her Mommy, because you only have one mommy. What’s more, Ava wouldn’t expect you to call her that either.”

  “Are you going to marry Miss Ava, Daddy?”

  “We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves,” Hilton replied in an effort to sidestep the question. “Let’s just say that she and I are pretty happy when we’re together. It’s too soon to know whether it’s permanent or just temporary. But I want you to understand, Max, that you’re my top priority. Not only do I love you, I have a responsibility to you to take care of you and to make you as happy as reasonably possible. That’s part of being a parent. One day you’ll be an adult and you’ll be responsible for yourself, but until that day comes you’re number one. With Ava it’s different. What we feel for each other is completely voluntary on both our parts.”

  “What’s ‘voluntary’?”

  “That means we see each other for no other reason other than because we want to. She’s very special, because she understands my commitment to you.” He tried to think of a simpler term, realizing Max wouldn’t know the meaning of the word commitment. “She understands how important you are to me. There are ladies out there, and men, too, who resent that.” Like your stepfather, he thought angrily. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  “I think so, Daddy.”

  “Max, I think your mother was wrong to tell you to beware of Ava. I know she didn’t mean to frighten you,” he lied, “but she’s had quite a lot of stress lately, so we’ll forgive her. The important thing is that you realize Ava’s not trying to take your mommy’s place. Get it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  *****

  Marcus made his way downstairs in another half hour, bursting with energy and vigor after a night’s rest. “C’mon, Max, let’s get breakfast.”

  “Shhh! You’ll wake Daddy.”

  “Boo,” Hilton said, sitting up. He’d only been dozing against the background sound of whatever was playing on the Cartoon Network as Max watched it.

  “Mr. Hilton? You slept on the couch?”

  Hilton suppressed a smile. Marcus, just two years older than Max but with a better command of the ways of men and women, had clearly expected him to have slept with Ava. “I was too lazy to drive myself home,” he explained. “Now, why don’t we surprise Ava and make breakfast for her? A big breakfast.”

  Marcus made a face. “Can’t we go to the Golden Corral?”

  He and Ava were spoiling him, Hilton realized. “Sometimes the best way to show someone you appreciate them is to do something that requires working with your own two hands, not reaching into your wallet and spending money. Don’t you agree, Sport?”

  Marcus’s eyes grew wide, as if he sensed he’d just been taught a lesson. “Sure, Mr. Hilton.”

  “All right. I’m going to mix up some pancake batter and show you guys how to pour it on the griddle. Come along. You two can help.”

  Hilton searched the pantry but found no boxed mix. “Has Ava made pancakes for you before?” he asked Marcus.

  “Yes, but I think she just uses flour and eggs and stuff.”

  “That from scratch deal won’t work for me. I need mix. I guess I’ll go to the store and get some. I’ll walk Khufu while I’m out. You guys’ll be okay without me for a few minutes. Just don’t open the door, and I mean not for anyone.”

  He got up and tucked his shirt snugly into his jeans, then got his jacket out of the coat closet. He hung it on the doorknob and went to retrieve his shoes.

  They weren’t anywhere to be found.

  “Anybody seen my shoes?” he asked.

  The boys, immersed in watching television, made a halfhearted attempt at looking for them, then both said, “Uh-uh.”

  “Well, they’ve got to be around here some—” he broke off when he remembered he’d left them upstairs in Ava’s bedroom. He walked toward the staircase, hoping they were so involved in the goings-on of Scooby-Doo they wouldn’t notice him slip upstairs.

  He gingerly opened the bedroom door, not wanting to wake the still-sleeping Ava. There were his shoes, right by the oversized rattan basket chair, where he’d so carelessly dropped them last night. It was probably force of habit that made him carry them upstairs in the first place; he simply hadn’t been thinking that he would have to return to the sofa at sunrise.

  Unfortunately for him, a commercial was playing when he descended, and Marcus immediately asked, “You found your shoes up there?”

  “Yes, they were in the bathroom.”

  “Why’d you go all the way up there to use the bathroom when there’s one right by the kitchen?” All the old houses in the district had powder rooms off the kitchen, probably for the exclusive use of the original residents’ household help.

  “Why do you ask so many questions?” Hilton tossed back, not bothering to disguise his annoyance.

  Marcus flashed his trademark grin. “I guess I’m just curious.”

  Hilton slipped his feet into his supple brown leather ankle-high boots. “Well, don’t worry about it.” He put on his jacket and went out the front door.

  “What’s so funny?” Max asked when Marcus giggled.

  “Y
ou know how people in the movies do all that hugging and kissing when they’re nekkid in bed together?”

  Max made a face. “Yeah. So what?”

  “Bet that’s why your daddy’s shoes were upstairs. He was up there with Aunt Ava kissin’ and stuff.”

  “No, he wasn’t. Daddy was sleeping on the couch when I got up.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t doing it right and she threw him out.”

  *****

  “What’s this?” Ava said as she entered the kitchen, clad in baggy blue pajamas she’d obviously put on upon awakening. Hilton was busy flattening sausage patties with a spatula, while Marcus was flipping pancakes and Max stirred a bowl of batter.

  “We’re making you breakfast, Aunt Ava,” Marcus said.

  “Oh? That’s very sweet of you. All of you.”

  “I’m helping,” Max piped up. “See?” He held up the wooden spoon he was using to stir the batter. “I’m gettin’ all the lumps out.”

  “That’s wonderful, Max.” Ava met Hilton’s eyes, not knowing what to make of this. This was the first time Max had addressed her directly since his mother’s departure. “I guess I’ll just go read the paper.”

  She was reading the headline story when Hilton leaned over her shoulder and planted a loud kissed on her neck. “Max and I had a talk this morning.”

  “I figured something must have happened. He hasn’t said that much to me all week as he did just now. Fill me in.”

  “You’re not going to like it. It was his mother. She put the idea in his head that you’re looking to replace her. Scared him half to death. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

  “And you convinced him I’m not the Wicked Witch of the South?”

  “I did. It involved having to tell him his mother was wrong. Also, I pointed out that he didn’t feel threatened by his stepfather. Anyway, I think he’s comfortable with the idea of you and I as a couple.”