He looked up at the stars again. He had not thought about Anita all evening, which was a record. He concentrated on the person he was with now and watched as her breath made little smoke circles in the frigid night air.
"I grew up in the city of Charleston in West Virginia."
"I detect a slight accent," Davia said. "Didn't you see many stars in West Virginia?"
Vanley chuckled. "Not really. My family lived in an apartment…second floor. We didn't do much camping either. Nature and all of those dirty things wasn't a real priority for my mother. My Mom is afraid of dirt."
"What about your Dad?" Davia asked curiously.
"My Dad died when I was thirteen," Vanley said. "He wasn't interested in nature either."
"But now you have it in spades," Davia said. "This is as rural as Jamaica gets. If it weren't for the university and a few other schools up here in the hills, we'd probably be forgotten."
"I know," Vanley said. "I am sort of dreading being transferred when my four years here is up. In rare cases do pastors spend eight years with the same congregation."
Davia swallowed convulsively. She didn't want him to talk of leaving. "Where would they send you?"
"I have no idea," Vanley said, "but you have four years of me, if you don't move away."
Davia shook her head. "I have no plans to go anywhere. I have no plans to leave now even though all my friends left as soon as they finished school. I like my job at Mount Faith. I had no idea I would get such a good job when I finished college."
"How do you like your new boss?" Vanley asked her, tensing up to hear about Anita. He wanted to hear what sort of boss she was. You could tell a lot about a person when they were in charge. Maybe she was mean and uncaring; that would certainly put a crack in his obsession with her.
"Miss Parkinson is great," Davia said enthusiastically. "Sometimes she is grumpy, but since I started working with her I've learned what makes her grumpy: Joe Masters from the education department, and the other older male deans who probably think that she has a man's job. They resent reporting to her."
Vanley chuckled. Anita was not a bad boss; his obsession was still in tact. "That attitude is so old fashioned of them."
"Yes it is," Davia said. "They drew near a well-lit house in one of those older Victorian designs that was made out of wood and concrete. The front porch had wood latticework in a white trim. It looked like a well-preserved cottage. Vanley wished he had his camera to take a night shot to capture the beautiful effect of the light's battle to penetrate the fog and darkness. It gave him a nostalgic feeling. It was like the old house was saying welcome home.
"That's my home," Davia said softly. "See, it wasn't far from church."
"That means you have no excuse for not to come to night meetings," Vanley mocked sternly.
Davia grinned. "No excuse. I live with my grandparents. My parents died when I was two. Usually my grandfather would come to church, but his knees get stiff when it gets cold, so he stays put. My grandma is usually asleep by now, so she wouldn't come."
"It was nice walking you home," Vanley said. "Maybe next time we can do it again."
Davia's eyes lit up with glee. "Are you going to be around Wednesday night?"
Vanley nodded. "Sure, I will be. Maybe you can carry a friend with you too."
"There are not many young people in this area," Davia said wistfully.
"I meant a boyfriend," Vanley said, fishing for information about her personal life and not caring if she knew.
"Oh," Davia giggled, "I don't have a boyfriend."
"I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight, sleep well." Vanley watched as she walked up to her veranda and then waved to him before she locked her door.
He walked slowly down the hill back to his car. He guessed that this walk could count as a date.
One day down; eighty-nine to go, then his uncle would have to tell him the secret he was keeping for Anita. The anticipation was bubbling up inside him. He was sure that the secret was not all that bad. Nothing could really shake him from loving Anita at this moment—nothing at all.
*****
Anita let herself into her house a little after seven Monday evening. As usual, it had been a tiring day trying to battle the glass ceiling. She was the only female vice president, and she had a hell of a time bucking against the status quo.
Her answering machine was flashing, but she ignored it. She kicked off her shoes and sat in her sofa with a sigh.
The rumbling of her belly had her heading for the fridge; she flung some cucumber, a handful of grapes, and an apple into her blender and gulped it down as soon as the mix was smooth enough.
Her dog, Chudney, rubbed against her leg. She looked down at him and grinned.
"I fed you a big bowl of dog food this morning. I am not going to allow you to get fat."
Chudney whined and nudged her leg.
"Okay, okay," She grinned down at him, "more food for you, but only a little."
She fed him then headed back to her living room. After relaxing in the settee, she glanced at the flashing light on her phone. Chudney came to join her, and she cuddled him. He was a Shih Tzu and the closest thing to a child she would probably have.
He was three years old. She had gotten him in a particularly low period in her life. She sighed. It was right after that kiss with Vanley Bancroft, three years ago. She had finally realized that she was barking up the wrong tree. They were never going to work; she was fooling herself. Then she had had an almost insatiable craving for companionship, and she had gone to a breeder and gotten herself a dog.
She caressed Chudney's coat, and he licked her hand. She closed her eyes and waited for that infernal loneliness to swamp her as it usually did when she was relaxed—it did. It usually came softly, then slammed into her, rendering her immobile for minutes. The feeling actually felt like a presence—dark and all engulfing. She hugged Chudney closer to her and pressed “Play” on her answering machine just so she could hear somebody else's voice.
"Hello, Anita. This is Natasha Jackson. Just got back from honeymoon. We have a tiny problem we need to discuss with you. Can we set a meeting for eight o'clock at your office tomorrow?"
There were no more messages. Anita inhaled and shuddered at the same time. Why would the police want to question her?
She hadn't done anything illegal in her life. On the contrary, she had always done what others and society expected of her.
She got up and went to the veranda. The house was in an isolated location. Her closest neighbor was Micah Bancroft, who lived two miles up the road. Her curving driveway was lined with solar powered garden lights, but most of them were dim. The sun had not been out in earnest for a few days.
She did not want to live on Mount Faith Drive with the rest of the admin staff and their families. She enjoyed the solitude and the fact that the three-acre property had been going at such a cheap rate that she would have been foolish not to have taken it. The executors had sold her the four-bedroom place as is, with even the knives and forks still in the cupboards. The owner had died and his heirs want to dispose of the property with as little fuss as possible.
She stood on her porch and watched as the fog flirted with the lights leading up to her driveway. All around her was pitch black and cold. Chudney had followed her outside and he pressed his body on her foot.
The gesture brought tears to her eyes. Was this how it was always going to be for her: living in a remote house with only a dog for company? Why was she even torturing herself over her situation tonight?
She had known how it was going to be for a long time now. Just then a longing for Vanley clutched her unexpectedly and she slumped onto the rocking chair. She gripped the arms of the chair and reminded herself to forget him.
How many times had she futilely run over the same thing in her head? Even if their ages were not such a huge factor, there was her past. She rocked in her chair for a while. She had promised him that she would attend the singles retreat in St. Ann. She stil
l didn't know why she had done that.
"Am I a stickler for punishment, Chudney?"
Chudney whined and sniffed the air. He was getting agitated. He jumped from her lap and started yelping at the left side of the porch.
"I must have been born with a curse," she said to Chudney softly, as he pranced back and forth along the verandah, his little body bristling. "God knows why the most difficult of things always happen to me."
"Stop griping," a voice said in the dark, "or at least that's what Chudney would say if he could talk."
Anita jumped and her eyes widened as a shape came out of the dark.
"I drove all the way up here to visit, and I don't get even an hello." She recognized the voice instantly, and with shock, gasped, "Carol?"
"Yup." Carol stood before her in the semi-dark. "This place is so deliciously secluded. Where is my greeting? Is this the way you treat old girlfriends now?"
*****
Anita walked into her office at seven forty-five, feeling a little jittery after last night. Her unexpected visitor had really thrown her off-kilter.
She entered the office space and realized that Davia was already at her desk. Anita winced. She was not up for Davia's usual inane chatter. Why, of all the secretaries in the world, was hers always early, and always cheerful as if she ate rainbows and sunshine for breakfast.
"You have an appointment with Natasha Jackson at eight-thirty," Davia said when Anita grunted a good morning. "Was her wedding as beautiful as I heard it was?" Davia asked before Anita reached her door. "Ah, never mind, I'll ask Pastor Vanley tonight."
Anita stiffened, and despite herself, looked at Davia enquiringly. "So, you are seeing Pastor Vanley now?"
"No," Davia said, giggling, "but he is going to be at Wednesday night service, and he did walk me home on Sunday. I think he likes me. What do you think?"
Anita was tempted to lecture Davia once again about professionalism but she shrugged. She had always been a stickler for punishment. She wanted to hear everything about Vanley even if it meant that he was seeing someone else.
"I think," Anita said softly, "that he is a great guy, one of the best." She then headed inside her office and closed her door, leaning on it.
By the time Natasha and her partner Harry came into the office, Anita was somewhat composed, even though her composure slipped when Detective Harry introduced himself. A mere three years ago, he had caught her passionately kissing Vanley. She wondered if he remembered, but she doubted it, seeing that his face was schooled in a neutral expression.
"As you know," Natasha started, "I work part-time with the Malvern Police. Harry here works for the regional office. He is now head of the fugitive division."
Harry nodded. "We were alerted by the Kingston office that one Carol Perth has escaped the Half Way Tree Detention Center. She is wanted for conspiracy to murder her husband, Selvin Perth, the journalist."
Anita frowned, hoping her acting was intact. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?"
Harry cleared his throat. "We had to thoroughly investigate Carol Perth's background to find out likely places that she would run to, and your name was found on some old documents of hers, as next of kin."
"Me?" Anita squeaked. "Why would she use my name?"
"Do you know her?" Natasha asked.
"Yes," Anita said, her mind was running a mile a minute. What or how much she could tell them was another thing. "She was Carol Parks...er...Carol King."
"Which one of them was it?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Carol King." Anita breathed out shakily. "I knew another Carol Parks years ago." Her hands were trembling slightly so she pushed them under the table.
Natasha and Harry didn't look as if they bought her explanation. Anita had put on a brittle smile hoping to convince them of her sincerity.
"If she turns up here I will call you. I have no idea why after all these years she would use my name as next of kin."
"How do you know her?" Harry asked.
"She er, she was er..." Anita was looking everywhere except at Natasha and Harry, and they were looking at her in anticipation.
"She was my girlfriend," Anita said.
"Your girlfriend?" Harry asked, "You were in a relationship with her?"
"Yes." Anita nodded vigorously. "Please, I don't want to talk about this. This was a long time ago."
Natasha cleared her throat and looked at Harry. "We understand. Could you just give us a call if she shows up?"
"Yes. Yes," Anita said taking Harry's card. "I will. Detectives could you keep this under wraps? Obviously, my link to Carol is something that I don't want out there."
"Sure." Natasha nodded solemnly.
Chapter Three
The turn out at the Wednesday's meeting was much better than Sunday's. Vanley could even spot a few young people in the group. Davia was sitting at the front. She was in her work clothes, a brown boxy looking tailored-suit.
She waved to him and he smiled at her. She really was quite cute. No drama, no terrible secrets, just simple and unassuming. He shook his head from those thoughts. “If everything worth getting was perfect, then life would be boring,” used to be his father's favorite saying.
All through the exhortation he thought about that and inevitably thought about Anita. He hadn't seen her since that day in her office when she promised to come to the singles retreat. After the service, he toyed with the idea of going to see her. He knew where she lived; he had passed her house often enough when he went to visit his cousin Micah, but he had never once tried to intrude on her space.
He felt like doing so now. When he stepped out of the church he saw Davia waiting for him. He smiled and said, "I'll have to drop you home tonight."
"You mean no long moonlit walk?" Davia asked, grinning.
"Regretfully, no," Vanley said, shaking his head. "Ready?"
Davia nodded and followed him to his car.
"You seem a little distant tonight, like you're not all here," she said when they neared his car.
Vanley opened the car door for her and waited for her to settle in before going around to his side. "That is very astute of you."
"Want to talk about it?" Davia asked, smiling at him softly. Her lips were a pale red.
Vanley stared at them and then shook his head. He was slowly becoming attracted to Davia, especially now when she seemed so solemn and somewhat mature.
I was wondering about Anita... but that would be too honest, he thought. He started driving up the hill slowly. "What do you do for fun?"
Davia laughed. "Fun? What's that? Country girls like me who live in Bramble, the final farming frontier, don't have fun, unless you count playing Monopoly and Scrabble with my grandma fun."
Vanley laughed in disbelief. "Seriously, an attractive girl like you?"
"Yes, pastor," Davia said, laughing with him. "In these hills there is nowhere to go, nothing to do. I don't have a car, so basically, I stay put."
"Planning to go to the singles retreat weekend?" Vanley asked out of curiosity. He didn't want her to go. Anita was going to be there, and he really wanted the opportunity to be with Anita when she had her guard down. He knew that Davia being there would complicate things.
"No, I wasn't planning to go," Davia shuddered. "Last time I went there were mostly women there and the most unsuitable guys. Some of them were one eyed, one legged, had beer gut, and had bad breath. The eligible guys who showed up actually came with their girlfriends. I am like, why do you go to a singles retreat when technically you are not single; you are preparing to get married…that's so unfair."
She hissed her teeth and then flushed. "Sorry. I really had a bad time last year."
Vanley stopped the car at her gate and whooped with laughter.
"It was that bad, huh?"
"Yes." Davia nodded vigorously. "One would think that if you attended a school like Mount Faith there would be all sorts of eligible single Christian men there but...," her voice trailed off.
&nbs
p; "But?" Vanley asked.
"But I must admit I am a bit picky," Davia said. "Nobody has really sparked my interest except..."
Vanley waited for her to continue but Davia just jiggled her bag straps.
She glanced at Vanley sheepishly. "Except you."
"Ah," Vanley nodded and rested back in his seat. "What is it about me that sparks your interest?"
"You meet the height requirement, for one," Davia mused.
"And what's the height requirement?" Vanley asked curiously.
"Taller than me," Davia said. "Is it just me or are men getting shorter?"
"It's just you." Vanley laughed. "All the men in my family are tall."
"You are also handsome and witty and you smell good and..."
"Oh stop," Vanley said, "my head can't take in so many compliments at once."
Davia laughed, "And you are modest. What do you like in a woman?"
She has to be Anita, popped up in his head but he squashed the thought.
What did he really like about women? He had been so caught up with Anita for so many years that he had not really looked at anybody else.
He really struggled with the answer.
"Well," he pictured Anita's face. "I always think that when the right person comes along I will know, like a hit in the solar plexus and a grip so tight that it leaves me with no energy for anybody else. Something will just click. I don't have a list. I am extremely flexible when it comes to requirements."
Davia smiled tremulously. "That's so sweet."
"It's pathetic really," Vanley said sadly, "because if she believes she is not the right person, you can waste years of your life trying to convince her that she is."
Davia sighed. "I hope that never happens to you."
Vanley almost said, "It already has," but he nodded instead.
"So, do you want children?" Davia asked perkily. She didn't want to go into the house just yet. It was fun just sitting and talking to Vanley. It was something that she had been waiting weeks to do, and tonight he seemed vulnerable, somehow, like he wanted to talk as well.
A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7) Page 3