“Speaking of being naughty,” Bonita added raising an eyebrow to Marianne. Poor Brad turned red as a tomato.
“Nonsense,” Marianne said coming around to greet her. “He just came down to escort me. From what I heard there are crazy men running about, shooting poor, helpless girls.”
Only from Marianne could that come out humorously, and Bonita giggled a bit, before wincing in pain.
“Marianne, you aren’t allowed to make me laugh.”
“Okay, switching into strict Catholic school nun mode,” she said with a serious expression, which only made Bonita laugh even more before the pain overcame her amusement.
“Why don’t you two boys go do boy things and let the girls do girl things? I’m sure River can give up five minutes of smooching to let Bonita have a little gal pal talk.”
Brad seemed thrilled with the idea. River was a little more reluctant, before Bonita waved him off with a wink. He had been there every day during the length of visiting hours.
The two men wandered off while Marianne and Bonita watched them go.
“So you finally got Brad to—”
“I see from the tulips that—”
They both chuckled as they stopped talking over one another.
“You first,” Marianne said, then continued on. “Yes, I finally asked Brad out. Heaven knows I would have been a ninety-year-old spinster by the time he finally got up the nerve. Besides, he’s kind of adorable. I thought I’d throw him a bone.” She wrinkled her nose and Bonita noticed that her ears were a vibrant shade of red as she talked about him.
Good for her. The two of them had to be the world’s cutest couple.
“As for you, my dear. I hope I didn’t overstep when I suggested the tulips to River. It was meant to be in jest, but I see he’s taken the ball and run with it. Feel free to kill me right now if you absolutely detest tulips.
Bonita gave her a reassuring smile. “As long as they aren’t red roses.”
Marianne wrinkled her brow with the unspoken question.
“Long story,” she said in response, waving her hand dismissively. “Thanks for coming down to see me. I love my parents and River has been great, but sometimes you need a change.”
“Of course I would come to visit. My only other friends are boring Gascony alumns. The rumor mill has already started about you, but rest assured Bonita, my lips are sealed. I may be the school archivist when it comes to dirty secrets, but I would never dish on my best friend.”
“Best friend?” Bonita asked, truly pleased.
“Of course! But in all fairness, you saw who the competition was.”
Bonita tried to refrain from chuckling at that.
“Speaking of which, Jeff Lawson got expelled! And it’s about time.”
It took a moment for Bonita to place the name. Then she remembered the night of the infamous party.
“Apparently, just before break there was a freshman, and not just any freshman, mind you, but the daughter of…”
Bonita sat there and let Marianne, her new “best friend” ramble on with all the Pierre gossip.
Her mind eventually wandered thinking how much her life had changed over the course of one semester. There was good and bad.
She had gone up to Pierre seeking something new and different and boy had she gotten it in spades.
She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.
41
They were on a train up to New York. It was April and the weather was perfect. In fact everything was perfect.
River had come down every Friday to visit her while she recuperated for the semester at her parents’ house. He read to her, getting feedback on the latest updates to his book which definitely had the makings of a series at this point.
They played games, partook in as much snuggling as her parents would allow, which, considering he had saved their daughter’s life, was considerable. Her father even stopped coming to the kitchen for late night snacks when they just happened to be sitting on the couch together. Naturally, they respected her parents’ house by not going too far under their roof.
River had even made a show of being enthusiastic about going to church every Sunday before his train ride back into New York. Having missed his first opportunity for obvious reasons, once Bonita was back home for recovery, he finally made the leap.
Now the two of them were heading up to go to River’s niece’s fifth birthday party. That was the premise, but secretly neither of them could wait to get to the hotel room afterward to make up for lost time. Bonita had the birthday gift—from both of them—in her lap: The entire Ramona Quimby series by Beverly Cleary. The perfect gift for a five-year-old girl, from her literary uncle and quasi-aunt, or so River had put it.
Bonita smiled as she watched the scenery go by. Over the past few months she had recovered better than expected. The only remnant these days was a nasty scar in the lower left side of her abdomen.
Even his father’s influence couldn’t keep Darryl from ending up in prison for attempted murder, under serious psychiatric care.
Congressman West’s initial attempt to absolve his son by smearing first Bonita, then River, backfired catastrophically. He had outed her father’s problems concerning the church’s funds and using Bonita’s college fund to pay for it, but, as expected, the congregation naturally rallied in support of Pastor Jackson. It was the final strike against Benjamin West. His run for Senator was permanently terminated, and other more worthy candidates were already being vetted for his current seat in the House, as he was no longer a shoo-in as incumbent.
Her “college fund” was obviously terminated. The family briefly debated suing based on the shooting, but ultimately decided having the Wests out of their lives was its own reward. Bonita could survive just fine on student loans like many other students did. River had obviously hinted that he could help out and was met with a firm no. She was still done relying on men to support her.
“So my father is a bit…”
“I know,” Bonita said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I think the whole country knows.”
“Yeah, well, just be prepared. Thankfully, I don’t think Chauncey will be here.”
They rounded the corner to the street where River’s brother Michael and his wife London lived. Not knowing much about his family beyond the notorious media hound, Richard Wright, she was surprised to find that both of his brothers were married to black women, sisters in fact.
“Trying to keep up with tradition?” she had teased.
“What can I say? The Wright brothers have good taste,” he’d shot right back.
They walked down the serene, tree-lined street where the family’s townhouse was situated and Bonita was impressed. What a perfect place to raise kids.
As they approached the house, they were surprised to find that the door was open and a loud commotion of children yelling, dogs barking, and two men shouting over one another carried out to the street.
“What did I tell you, Estelle? I just knew he would try to one up me,” a man’s deep, baritone voice boomed.
“Some advice, Frank,” Richard Wright’s voice said with a loud guffaw. “If you’re going to go in, go big!”
Bonita and River looked at each other with wary expressions, then laughed and walked up the stairs to the open door where Richard Wright himself was standing.
“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised you brought a bunch of tiny, little dogs that do nothing but yap. Symbolism at its best!”
River preceded her in through the open door, stopping in surprise as he took in everything that was going on around him. Bonita bumped into his back and he was shaken out of his paralysis as he turned around to lead her in with a grin of amusement.
“Welcome to the fun house,” he said to her.
Bonita had worn pink in honor of the birthday girl’s favorite color. A color that was more than evident from all the balloons and streamers. She caught her first look at the spouses the other Wright brothers—both with the same good lo
oks as River—had chosen. She could see one right now, assessing her in just the same manner. She had to admit, River was right, the brothers had good taste.
“The door!” Richard yelled as Bonita saw a small, white ball of fluff make a run for it.
She jumped, her eyes going wide and she was startled into a reflexive reaction, slamming the door just as the little, white fuzzball skittered between her legs.
The dog gave a yelp of surprise as it hit the door then wriggled it’s tiny tail and headed in the other direction, chased by at least four little girls. One was the obvious birthday girl, with a bigger princess crown on her head of dark curls. Her skin was a warm café au lait color, heavy on the lait, and her eyes were a warm brown with tiny flecks of color that made them look almost like dark amber. It made Bonita wonder what any children she had with River might look like.
“I guess we came at just the right time,” River said laughing as he approached the woman who had been eyeing her appreciatively.
The woman just shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Well, you know the fathers in this family.”
That’s when Bonita saw the other father in question. Not quite as famous as the notorious Richard Wright, but she recognized Frank Jefferson. He’d represented plenty of famous people like that politician, and the basketball star who’d gotten into trouble with his ex-wife. A famous family all around. Then here was the insignificant little pastor’s daughter.
She was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious. Then, River turned around to look at her, grabbing her hand, making her feel instantly at ease.
“This is my…girlfriend, Bonita. Bonita Jackson,” he said. “Bonita, this is my sister-in-law, London. She’s married to Michael.”
Bonita’s eye lashes fluttered in appreciation behind her glasses. Girlfriend. The fact that he was introducing her this way to his family sent butterflies swirling through her chest.
“Nice to meet you, Bonita,” London said reaching out her hand.
Bonita realized that she had a present in her own hand and smiled, handing it over instead. “Nice to meet you. This is for Lily,” she said, handing it over.
“Oh how nice,” London said and seemed genuinely touched. “Once this craziness is under control, I’m sure she’ll be happy to open it.”
“Well, I don’t think she’ll be as excited about it,” Bonita said, laughing as she looked down at the puppies running around her. Based on the excitement over them, these were obviously also birthday presents. How could poor Ramona Quimby compete?
“They’re books. The Complete Ramona Collection by Beverly Cleary,” she heard River whisper in explanation. “Her idea,” he said nodding back to Bonita, and she felt her face get warm with self-consciousness again.
“Really?” London said with delighted surprise. “Well, at least someone got the presents right this year.” Bonita saw her shoot an irritated glance at her father and father-in-law, both of whom looked on with satisfaction as Lily ran in circles, laughing uncontrollably as the dogs yapped and barked amid all the excitement.
“Anyway, as River said, welcome to the fun house,” London said. “There is still some cake and ice cream in the back if you’d like some.”
“I’m going to introduce her around,” River said, grabbing her hand. It made Bonita’s own hand tingle. “Alex and Brooklyn.”
They were headed over to a man, who had vague similarities to River, standing next to a very pregnant woman, who resembled London. They stopped when they saw the birthday girl stand still in the middle of the floor while the commotion continued around her. She frowned and grabbed her stomach.
“Are you okay, honey?” London asked, approaching her.
Lily looked up at her approaching mother. “I don’t feel—”
The sentence was interrupted by a spray of pink refuse, with tiny bits of pink candy, pink cake, and pink icing in it.
The room went still.
“Ewww!” everyone under the age of six screamed in unison. The exclamations of disgust became even more frenzied as three dogs took full advantage of the treat that had just been offered to them, lapping it up with excited delight.
Bonita had to admit, her own stomach did a turn at the scene. But her heart ached when the poor birthday girl began to cry.
It was obviously her father, Michael, who was quick to scoop her up and cradle her against his chest as he rubbed her back.
“It’s okay, pumpkin,” he soothed as he removed her from the chaos, continuing to rub her back while she sobbed in hiccups against his shoulder.
The rest of the adults went to work handling the mess that was left. London grabbed the chocolate Labrador puppy, holding him out in front of her as his sticky, pink paws performed an imaginary jog in mid-air.
Eventually the two Pomeranian puppies were rounded up, but not before there were tiny pink paw prints covering the rather nice parquet flooring.
“Here,” said an older black woman, who looked kind of like Vanessa Williams, grabbing a large box. It was big enough to hold all three puppies. They were each placed inside, with a sigh of relief from their handlers, as the girls in the room continued screaming and running around.
“Okay, okay, girls,” an older white woman said, clapping her hands and bringing immediate order to the room. “Let’s all go back on to the patio and play out there.”
Now that the show was over, the girls all fell in line and made their way back to the yard.
Bonita looked at the mess that remained all over the living room. There was a puddle of pink slime on the parquet floor, accentuated by tiny paw prints carrying it over every surface. A few girls had lost their tiaras. There was wrapping paper, and empty boxes, and gifts set to the side, and paper plates, and napkins, and torn streamers, and a few of the balloons had even begun to fall rather symbolically.
“I could have told you this would happen. Leave it to Richard Wright to give a gift that causes nothing but chaos,” said Frank Jefferson.
“I seem to recall your Lab being just as eager to…” Richard Wright began in response.
River grabbed her and whispered in her ear. “Sure you want to hitch your horse to this wagon?”
She turned to smile and whisper in his ear. “More than ever.”
No lies. She honestly couldn’t wait.
42
“Bonita Jackson!”
There was an especially loud cheer from a tiny grouping on the right, who had come out to support the new graduate.
Bonita turned to give them an embarrassed smile before walking across the stage in her purple and gold gown. The tassel of her cap bounced and hit her glasses, but she was too excited and nervous to care.
The only thing keeping her knees from locking were the faces she could just barely see—but could definitely hear—in the crowd. They’d only given her enough tickets to invite her parents and River, which was all she really needed.
Afterward, they were at Red Rooster in Harlem enjoying a celebratory dinner. It was a crowded place with jam packed seating, but the food was delicious and the crowd was diverse, such that their little mixed grouping didn’t even stand out.
“To the new graduate,” her father said raising his glass. They all raised their glasses and clinked them together.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, grinning as people at nearby tables looked her way with congratulatory smiles. “I really couldn’t have done it without all of you, especially my French Literature tutor.”
River grinned and raised his glass to her.
“Speaking of which, cheers to the New York Times Bestselling author!” She raised her glass to him and her parents laughed and joined in, as he was the one now put on the spot.
Still, he rose his glass to meet theirs, nodding his head appreciatively.
“I also couldn’t have done it without my muse,” he said winking at her.
“Seems like you two are a perfect match,” her mother said with a conspiratorial smile. Her eyes looked across at her husband and he had a s
imilar smile on his face.
Bonita looked back and forth between the two of them with a curious grin. Were they getting sentimental on her?
“I suppose that’s my cue,” River said, grinning broadly.
Bonita’s eyes blinked over to him with an even more curious expression.
“Bonita, on the advice of counsel, said counsel being my big brother, I asked your father a rather important question this morning.”
Her heart seized so hard she nearly fell out of her chair. That was when River stood up and squeezed his way around the tables to her side. There was a rather awkward scene as people grudgingly shifted out of the way before realizing what was happening. At that point, they happily slid back so they could enjoy the show. Eventually, River was able to get on one knee.
“Thankfully, he gave his blessing and now I’m asking you, Bonita Jackson, will you be my wife?”
Her hand was still covering the mouth that had fallen open in surprise. Her breath caught behind it when he actually opened the box to reveal a three carat, princess-cut, canary diamond. There were plenty of appreciative ohhs and ahhs from those restaurant patrons nearby who could see it.
“Yarp,” she gurgled from somewhere in her throat where her voice was lost.
River crinkled his forehead in confusion.
“Yes!” she finally coughed out and threw her arms around him.
The restaurant exploded with cheers and claps and River struggled back to his feet, with Bonita’s arms still around him. She was lifted off her toes as she planted kiss after kiss on his face.
“Are you gonna let me actually put this thing on your finger?” River said in between kisses.
“When I’m done,” she said, laughing as she kissed him again.
Eventually she slid down and smiled prettily as he slipped it on. The color blazed against her bronze skin, complimenting it perfectly. It also matched her favorite yellow dress, which had once upon a time been gifted to her by her favorite guy.
“Congratulations, you two,” her mother said, tearing up as she raised her glass to them.
So Wrong Page 23