by Ju Ephraime
He was angry and hurting, trying his best to forget her. After fifty-six days, the need to have her was riding him hard. The woman had taken over his person like a virus; and like a virus, it must have an antidote. Unfortunately, the only antidote was to be buried deep inside her, every night. This virus was ravaging his body and mind. He couldn’t even bring himself to pretend an interest in the opposite sex because this was beyond sex. It was too deep for him to dismiss it with a quick interlude with someone else. He compared every female he met to Daphne, and no matter how many times he told himself to snap out of it, he was finding it was easier said than done.
He spent most of his free time thinking of a way out of his situation with Daphne. He rejected every idea he came up with because, short of going to the U.S. and kidnapping her, he couldn’t bring Daphne back to Martinique against her will.
It was after one of his most frustrating nights, he had an epiphany. What’s stopping me from going to the U.S.? The answer came to him loud and clear. Nothing.
That morning, he began planning a trip to the U.S. He told himself it wasn’t to see Daphne but rather to find out if breathing the same air with her would lessen the empty feeling that didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard he tried.
He knew he couldn’t just leave Foxx with the responsibility of both restaurants, so he advertised for a chef to replace him temporarily. After interviewing over two dozen people, he found a young man named Paul who he thought had the creativity and the skills to work between both restaurants. He didn’t tell Foxx about his plans; he wanted everything in place before he told him.
He was also aware that Foxx was having a difficult time as it were. Knowing Therèse was still on the island, and she’d made no effort to contact him, was messing with Foxx’s head. Several times he had admitted to Wolfe that he’d been on the verge of visiting Therèse at her hotel, but he found that his pride wouldn’t allow it. To hear Foxx tell it, although pride played a role, it was the fear of rejection that held him back. He’d made friends with one of the managers at the hotel, who promised to inform him if and when Therèse made plans to check out of the hotel.
So far, whatever it was that had brought her back seemed to be taking quite a while. Foxx said he had seen her twice at the pier, but he’d pretended not to notice because he said he had no intentions of approaching her again. Once was enough.
According to Foxx, the first time he had seen her at the café, he had been in shock and disbelief. He couldn’t believe it was really her. But now he was prepared, and his defense was avoidance. He admitted that some might call his method cowardly, but for him, it was the only way to cope. He’d told Wolfe there was no way in hell he’d willingly go down that path again. Knowing this, he wouldn’t leave Foxx to cope alone.
Things were moving at a rapid pace for Wolfe. He seemed to have hit pay dirt in the selection of his replacement. He had hired Paul Ober to serve as assistant chef/manager to both restaurants, and he turned out to be an excellent choice. He absorbed everything Wolfe taught him like a sponge and even came up with some of his own ideas for the menu. He was already making an impression on the patrons, who would specifically request his creations when they visited.
Foxx didn’t trust Paul, and he approached Wolfe about it. “This new guy, is he trying to edge us out? Maybe he’s going to start a place of his own after he builds up a following.”
Wolfe laughed. “No one can usurp your position unless you allow it. And—”
“And what? What are you saying?” Foxx asked. “You didn’t… You didn’t deliberately hire Paul to take over your position?”
“Um,” Wolfe said. “Yes and no. I am not giving up my position. After our talk the other evening, I thought it was not fair to you to leave you with both restaurants to manage. I hired Paul to be assistant manager, floating between both restaurants.”
“Why. Are you thinking of going somewhere?” Foxx inquired.
“As a matter of fact, I am. I didn’t want to tell you exactly this way, but I’m planning on taking a trip to the U.S. soon.”
“What? How soon is soon?” Foxx inquired.
“As soon as I have everything in place,” Wolfe responded.
“What exactly does that mean? I knew something was up when you all of a sudden became cheerful and you brought this new guy on board, but I was waiting for you to come to me before I was forced to approach you myself.”
“It’s not a matter of approaching me yourself. I wasn’t ready to tell you yet. I’m still not ready. There are boatloads of things to put in place before I can leave. I still have several weeks here.”
“How many are several weeks, Wolfe… two, three. How many?”
“More like three.”
“I hope you know what you are doing,” Foxx said.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” Wolfe responded.
T wenty
Daphne was feeling alive for the first time since her return to America. She’d finally gone shopping and didn’t know whether to credit her change of mood to her shopping spree or to the decision she’d made. She was returning to Martinique, as soon as she received the green light on the proposal she intended to present to her partners. She’d probably be able to get a flight the next day.
She would approach them with her idea to open a branch of their business in Martinique. She hoped they would be receptive to it, but with or without their approval, she would be leaving for Martinique the moment all her arrangements were in place.
Daphne was so full of anticipation at the prospect of going back to Martinique that she sometimes found herself trembling uncontrollably, as if ill with a fever.
She worked feverishly on her proposal. She’d given herself three weeks to get everything in place. She was transferring funds to an account she’d opened in Martinique and moving her remaining funds into a trust. She had to work with a realtor to rent out her home. There were a myriad of things to do. This was her life, and she was hoping the partners would not object to her proposal. She believed it would be good for the business. She hoped they saw it that way too.
After spending every available free minute she had doing research to strengthen her proposal, she handed it to them and sat back to wait.
After one agonizing week while they debated, her proposal was accepted, conditionally. They agreed to her setting a small office on a twelve-month trial to see if the place was going to prove profitable before she went ahead and transferred all her clients’ files to Martinique. This was the best she could get from them, so she took it.
“Why Martinique?” the senior partner wanted to know. “Do you see a possibility of the business growing from there? Is there a possibility to open up new markets?”
The questions were all logical and justifiable, but she couldn’t answer them completely at this time. The explanation she’d given them was based on the fact that they had been looking at Martinique but had not pursued it because of the language barrier and the fact that it wasn’t part of the Caribbean Basin Initiative. But now that she’d been there and had made some tentative contacts, she thought it was as good a time as any.
She couldn’t tell them that she’d fallen in love with a man on the island and she found she couldn’t live without him. They’d think I’m certifiable. Maybe I am.
At home, she packed only those items she felt she’d need on the island. It was not as if Martinique was short of shopping places. She could buy anything she needed there.
Everything else she would leave in storage or get rid of in a tag sale. She anticipated a good turnout for the sale. She had advertised it all over the neighborhood. Gayle and her husband had offered to help.
The day of the sale she felt alive again and shivery in anticipation of her new life. She had a couple stopping by the next day from her real estate company to inspect the house, and she wanted it cleared of furniture before they arrived. After the sale, she and Gayle waited in a haze of exhaustion for the truck they’d hired to take aw
ay everything that was left.
Gayle had been a tremendous help to her. She didn’t think she could have done it without her. Gayle had tried every trick in the book to find out exactly why Daphne was moving to Martinique. She wasn’t buying the opening up of new markets. It was “crap,” to use her words. But Daphne wouldn’t bite the bait. She wouldn’t discuss Martinique with Gayle because she didn’t feel she owed her that until she was good and ready. And that would not be until she found out if Wolfe’s offer of marriage still stood.
She was going on blind faith that he would still want to marry her and welcome her with open arms; her faith could be misplaced. She tried to keep these negative thoughts out of her mind. They undermined her self-confidence and filled her with self-doubt. She would find herself asking the what-if questions several times a day: What if I go through all this trouble and Wolfe has already moved on? What if he no longer wants me? Or, for that matter, what if he no longer wants to marry me? What if? What if? What if? Sometimes she became panicky and thought of calling off the entire trip, but at times like those, she reminded herself of her ultimate goal of being with Wolfe, and she became convinced that she was doing the right thing. If she were to maintain her sanity, she would do well not to think about the what-ifs.
Wolfe had almost finalized all his plans to go to America. He was about to go out and buy another suitcase. He didn’t know how long he’d be in the U.S., and he wanted to be prepared for a longer stay. He was determined not to return without Daphne, no matter how long it took him to persuade her.
Initially, he had thought of a brief trip, but now he was more determined than ever to bring her back with him. She was his life, and without her, there was no point in anything. He’d always believed in making things happen, and he would make this happen.
As he picked up his keys to walk out of his house, the buzzer, which alerted him that someone was on their way up to him, rang. Probably Foxx. But he waited anyway, though he was tired of listening to Foxx’s attempts to persuade him to forget about Daphne.
He was taken aback to see his mom stepping off the elevator. “Que faites-vous, mère?” he asked.
“What do you mean surprise visit? Don’t I have the right to visit my son anytime I feel like it?”
“Of course you do,” Wolfe replied, “but you usually call ahead. Are you trying to catch me unprepared?”
“Now, why would you say that? I came because Foxx told me he had concerns about your upcoming trip to America to try to perhaps find Daphne. Do you think this is a wise thing for you to do, Wolfe?”
“Maman, I am through doing wise things. I have decided to follow my heart for once, and nothing you or Foxx can say will deter me.”
“We are not trying to deter you, Wolfe; we just want you to think carefully.”
“My happiness lies with Daphne. I was not alive until I met her, and I have been slowly dying since she left me. I need her as I need air to breathe, so please credit me with enough sense to know my own mind. I am not a child.”
“I didn’t think you were a child, but you are still my son, and I have a right to worry about you.”
“Are you worried about me or the restaurant?”
“What a silly, silly thing to say to your mother,” Wolfe.
“Is it, Maman? If you’re worried about the restaurants, I’ve been training a new manager for several weeks. He’s ready to take over most of my responsibilities, and he has proven to be an asset to both restaurants. Even Foxx had to admit my choice in a replacement was excellent. If things don’t work out, I’ll come back, but I, at least, have to give it my best effort. Otherwise, I will go through the rest of my life wondering what could have been.”
“Okay, Wolfe, I will not badger you. You seem to have thought this through. I have nothing more to say, other than good luck! I hope everything works out for you.”
“Thanks, Maman. I hope so too. Right now, I’m off to the city. Did you drive over here, or do you need a ride?”
“I drove,” his mother said, “but you can walk me to my car.”
The ride in the elevator was uncomfortable. Wolfe was upset with Foxx for bringing his mom into this and with his mom for treating him like a kid who didn’t know his own mind. Wait until I see Foxx. This will be the last time he does this to me.
Wolfe had not involved their parents in Foxx’s affair with Therèse. He had respected Foxx’s privacy. Why could his brother not afford him the same respect? What was so difficult about that? He could understand if he hadn’t made the necessary arrangements to keep the restaurants operational, but he had. He’d asked nothing of Foxx. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. By the time he got out of the elevator, he was seeing red.
He walked his mom to her car, promising to visit with her before he left. His trip to the city could wait. He detoured to Foxx’s restaurant to have it out with him. It was a good thing the lunch crowd had left because he was of a mind to smash something.
Striding into the restaurant, he used his fist and smashed the glass on the display cabinet in the lounge. The cabinet contained some objets d’art, which scattered all over the place.
Foxx came running from the back to see what the commotion was about.
He was shocked to see Wolfe standing there, blood dripping from his hand. Wolfe’s temper was nothing new to Foxx, but what had angered him this time he had no clue. Wolfe had a temper that was slow to rise but, once risen, difficult to control. It was like letting a genie out of a bottle. There was one good thing about it. It didn’t last long. Foxx had learned to stay out of Wolfe’s way until his temper had cooled down. The calm was almost surreal.
Foxx went into this office and tried to lock the door, but Wolfe was quicker than him. He wrenched the door open and stormed in after him.
“If you ever sic Maman on me again—” Wolfe told him.
“I’m not talking to you when you’re like this, Wolfe,” Foxx replied, retreating into the storage room in his office.
Wolfe remained in his office for fifteen minutes, waiting for Foxx to come out of the storage room, but Foxx was having none of it. In that time, Wolfe had calmed down considerably. He left, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief, including Foxx.
The new manager was amazed. “I didn’t know your brother had it in him. He is always so calm and easygoing,” Paul said.
“Don’t be fooled,” Foxx replied. “My brother simmers below the surface. You just have to stay out of his way when he is angry. Now he’ll have to replace the display cabinet and some of the objets d’art he smashed, but you saw how quickly he calmed down? All you have to do is stay out of his way until he gets over it, and you will be fine.”
Wolfe left the restaurant still angry but was unwilling to take out his anger and frustration on any of the employees. He would deal with Foxx later. Now he had to hurry if he was to get into the city before the shops closed for the day. He made it just in time and was very pleased with the suitcase he bought. It was a London Fog, and although it was heavy without any items in it, it appeared quite sturdy, and it suited him just fine.
He’d been toying with the idea of purchasing something special for Daphne, but he had no idea what she would like. Their time together had been so brief he had no idea of her likes and dislikes! He would get her something, he promised himself, and he would know it when he saw it because it would remind him of her.
He picked up his airline ticket while he was in the city. He could hardly believe he would be leaving in less than a week. In the beginning, it seemed to take an awful amount of time to get everything organized. He’d been having nightmares of not being able to take the trip, but so far, it appeared to be coming together.
He still hadn’t decided what to do when he finally reached the U.S. He’d have to play it by ear. He had Daphne’s home address, as well as her telephone number, but he wanted to surprise her. He was hoping she was missing him as he was her and would, therefore, be happy to see him.
T wenty-one
Daphne was getting more and more excited. Everything was falling into place. Today was Sunday, and she was set to leave on Thursday. She was having difficulty breathing, especially when she stopped and thought about a possible scenario between her and Wolfe. She couldn’t seem to visualize the complete picture in her mind’s eye. There were so many possibilities, so many ways this thing could go wrong. She was taking this trip on a wing and a prayer, hoping it would work out in the end.
She had an appointment for a total makeover at the spa tomorrow. She even contemplated changing the color of her hair, but in the end, she decided against it. Wolfe was fond of the color, so she was keeping it. She settled for a full body massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, and body wax. She wanted to look her best when she met Wolfe.
She had an off-white outfit, which she planned to accessorize with a simple pearl necklace and a pair of blistered pearl earrings. Even her ring was a blistered pearl, and she had a watch with a mother-of-pearl face and gold band. Her shoes and handbag were also gold. She was going for subtle elegance. Her flight was leaving the U.S. at seven thirty a.m., and arriving at Fort-de-France at around twelve p.m. She’d told no one on the island of her arrival because she would be checking into the same hotel where she’d stayed before. She hoped she wouldn’t have to stay there too long before she was able to convince Wolfe that she’d returned to accept his marriage proposal. Some men could be so pigheaded, and she knew she’d hurt him.
She went into the office to say her final good-byes to the people who were the closest thing she had to family. The first thing she saw was a Bon Voyage banner. Daphne hadn’t expected a going-away party and was so moved by the gesture that she couldn’t stop crying. She believed her emotions were close to the surface because of all the things she’d gone through over the past months.