“Hey, hey, Aunie,” Otis rumbled as he dislodged the child he’d been bouncing on his stomach and surged to his feet. “Didn’t see y’ come in. Lola!” he bellowed. “Aunie’s here.”
James materialized next from another room, and Aunie suddenly felt like a sports car caught between a convoy of big rigs as he, his brother, and Otis hemmed her in. “Well, look at you, Magnolia Blossom,” James said, inserting a long, rough-tipped finger into a soft, shiny brown ringlet and stretching it out. “Curly hair.” He let it go, watching it bounce back into place.
Aunie would have reached up self-consciously to touch her hairdo but her hands were full. Did it look stupid? She’d thought it looked pretty good before she’d left her own apartment, but now she wasn’t so sure and James had obviously said all he’d had to say on the subject. “Here,” he said, reaching for her precariously balanced dishes, “let me take some of this stuff for you.” He relieved her of the vegetables.
Lola appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hi, Aunie.” She looked at the vegetables in James’s hands. “Well, don’t just stand there lettin’ them cool down, you fool mon. Put ‘em on the warmin’ tray in the kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured before he raised an eyebrow at Aunie and left to do Lola’s bidding. Aunie slid her purse onto the bookcase. “These are for you,” she said, handing the flowers to her friend.
Lola’s face lighted with pleasure. “For me? Oh, my, I can’t remember the last time I received flowers.” She stroked several petals reverently, then looked up with a blindingly white smile. “They’re beautiful, Aunie. Thank you.” Tucking the flowers into the bend of one elbow, she guided Aunie with her free hand. “Come. I’ll introduce you to the mob.”
The blonde who had opened the door for her turned out to be Will, James’s youngest brother. The woman with the air of command was Otis’s mother, Muriel Jackson, and in short order Aunie was also introduced to two of Otis’s sisters, their husbands and children, Otis’s brother and his wife and children, and one unmarried brother. James’s brother Bob she had already met, and his other brother Paul had not yet arrived. She tried to fix all the names to the correct faces in her mind, but she was afraid she wasn’t doing a sterling job of it.
James’s brother Will flirted outrageously; his brother Bob was totally friendly; but everyone else acted stiff around her, and Aunie feared she had been correct in assuming they would resent her presence. In reality, except for Muriel, who was intimidated by no one, they were a bit awed by her. She didn’t comprehend the effect she had on them, with her beautiful manners, cultured Southern voice, expensive clothing, and exquisite appearance. All she knew was that Otis’s sisters quit joking and laughing when she accompanied Lola to the kitchen; the children watched her with big eyes and fell silent when she returned to the living room, and the men avoided eye contact whenever possible. She felt she was ruining everyone’s good time, and it made her miserable.
More than anything she desired to slink away, but she gave herself a stern lecture and stayed put. Dammit, she wasn’t the useless decoration she used to be. She was learning to stand on her own two feet, and part of being an independent adult meant proving to herself that Wesley hadn’t irreparably damaged her self-esteem. She could remain a shy, pampered child, stick close to Lola and Otis all day, and then escape at the earliest opportunity. Or, she could test her maturity by setting aside her discomfort and trying her best to fit in.
She sat down on the floor next to Muriel Jackson’s feet and initiated a conversation. She found the woman’s air of competent authority fascinating and soon became absorbed in their exchange. She didn’t realize anyone else was paying attention, but those around the two women listened in and discovered that Aunie was interested in the same everyday subjects that interested them. Once they understood that they wouldn’t be expected to converse about opera or the arts or be asked to fetch her a mint julep, as they had half feared, they too joined in. Then the children, seeing their parents chatting so easily with the princesslike lady in the flowing red skirt, followed suit.
Before she knew what was happening, Aunie was having a marvelous time.
James watched her from across the room but kept his distance. He had never seen her all dolled up as she was today. She looked good.
Hell, the truth was, she always looked good, but this afternoon she looked real fine. That thing she’d done with her hair was … oh, shit, it was sexy. No two ways about it.
He was unaware of Will’s presence until he nudged him on the arm. “Sweet lookin’ babe,” Will said, following his eyes. “Real sweet. She as good in the sack as she looks?”
The depth of anger that surged through James took him by surprise, but he turned neutral eyes on his brother. “I wouldn’t know,” he said flatly. “Aunie and I are barely acquainted.” Why did people keep assuming otherwise?
“Good; then it won’t make any difference to you if I take my best shot at her myself.” It wasn’t a question, and yet it was.
“Knock yourself out,” James retorted through his teeth. His fool brother wasn’t very bright if he couldn’t see he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with a woman like Aunie.
Will shifted his weight from one foot to another for a moment. “Uh, listen, Jimmy,” he finally said. “I was, uh, like wonderin’ if I could borrow a few bucks. I’ve got a job interview Monday and I need a couple a things. Gotta look my best.”
“What happened to your job at that nightclub?”
“Well, see, there was this hostess workin’ there and an absolute babe she was, too. Legs that reached to heaven, tits out to here. Well, hell, Jimmy, how was I s’posed to know she was the owner’s daughter? Anyway …”
“Never mind,” James said wearily. “I think I’ve heard this story before.” He fished his wallet out of his back pocket. “How much?”
“Well, uh, the rent’s almost due and …”
James swore beneath his breath and replaced his wallet. “C’mon. We’ll go up to my place and I’ll write you a check.”
When they returned a short while later, Paul had arrived. He was standing by the bookcase, fingering Aunie’s purse. His hand dropped to his side when James approached him. “Hiya, kid,” he said, eyes darting uneasily, never alighting long on any one object.
“Hi yourself, Paul.” James nudged the purse his brother had been fondling further back on the bookshelf. “This belongs to Aunie,” he said in a low voice, watching his own thumb rub back and forth over the smooth leather. “She’s a guest in this house.”
Then his head whipped up and he impaled his brother with furious, moss green eyes. “You rip her off and I’ll wring your junkie neck, Paul. You understand me?”
“Sure, Jimmy, sure.” Paul thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I wasn’t gonna open it; I was just feeling it. It’s real leather, real soft.”
“Yeah, right,” James agreed cynically. “And if I’d walked in two minutes later, Aunie’s cash would be history. Her purse too, probably, if you’ve managed to locate yourself a new fence.”
He ignored his brother’s protestations of innocence. Not too long ago James had hit the streets, contacting all the receivers of stolen goods whom he knew Paul to be currently using. By threatening them with every manner of mayhem and violence his fertile mind could conjure up if they continued to deal with his brother, he had temporarily shut off Paul’s sources. Scum like that proliferated on the meaner city streets like rabbits in a hutch, however, and it was more than likely that his brother had already found someone new to replace those James had managed to scare away.
It was a never-ending battle that James felt he was steadily losing.
His brother had turned into a thief to support his cocaine habit and James didn’t know what to do about it. He hated to give him too much cash, for then he felt he was enabling Paul in his addiction. Yet if he kept him in short funds, his brother stole. God, he was so tired of it all.
When Bob approached him a short while later, he braced himself for more bad news. It had rapidly been turning into that kind of day.
To his surprise, however, he was not asked for money. In fact, Bob was feeling pretty ebullient. “I can’t pay you back yet, Jimmy,” he said, thumping him on the back with a beefy hand. “But I wanted you to know that Satin Doll Limos is doin’ pretty well. It started out a little slow, but business has been pickin’ up lately and we’ve already got us several bookings for the Christmas season.” His face split into a wide gun.
James felt the mellow mood with which he’d begun the day starting to seep back into his system, and he grinned, too. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day, Bobby.”
“Yeah. And I wanted to tell ya that the artwork you did for the ad was good stuff. A couple customers mentioned it when they called in.” He laughed, shaking his head in wonder. “I’m finally makin’ something work out for myself and I gotta tell you, Jimmy, it feels good. It feels damn good.”
“I’m proud of you, Bob.”
“Proud of myself, Jimbo, proud of m’self. It’s a real sweet feelin’.”
Lola called everyone for dinner. Muriel admonished the children, who were at their own table, to settle down; and as soon as it quieted she said grace. Platters began to make the rounds.
“So, Otis,” Bob said as he heaped turkey on his plate and then passed the platter. “When’re you and Lola gonna have a couple little rug rats runnin’ around here? You guys been married for—what?—five, six years now?”
“Seven,” Otis replied quietly. “And we’re workin’ on it.”
“Yeah, I can see where that’d be the fun part,” Bob agreed amiably, not realizing that he’d blundered into a sensitive area. He accepted the bowl of mashed potatoes from Otis’s sister and slapped a mound on his plate.
“I’ve told y’ before, bro,” Otis’s brother said with a grin. “I’d be more than happy to lend my ser—”
“Leon,” Aunie interrupted him. “Your mother tells me that you’re a personal trainer at a local gym.” She flashed him her most charming smile. “Tell me about it. I’ve been considering joinin’ one ever since I came to town, but I don’t have the first idea what to expect.” Okay, so she had belonged to a club in Atlanta. She was still interested in what they had to offer up here. “Could someone like me become stronger without addin’ all those bulky muscles?”
“Yeah, sure,” Leon said enthusiastically and leaned forward to discourse on one of his favorite subjects. He forgot all about offering stud service to Lola.
Lola, in turn, shot a grateful glance Aunie’s way, but the turkey she was eating seemed suddenly dry and tasteless. Damn it. Couldn’t she get through just one day without worrying about her lack of fertility? It was Thanksgiving, and the good Lord knew she had plenty of other things to be thankful for.
Beneath the table, Otis’s massive hand squeezed her thigh.
She had Otis. That was the biggest blessing of her life. But when she thought of him, with that face and body of his that made him appear killer-mean, playing so gently this afternoon with his nieces and nephews, she wanted to cry. He should have his own children to dandle on his knee and roughhouse with. Little boys or little girls. It didn’t matter which. He looked so formidable and rough if you didn’t know him; yet he was the tenderest of men and he’d make an excellent father. He should be a father. Did it really matter so much if the children didn’t come from her own womb?
For the first time, seated at the table surrounded by Otis’s family and their friends, she gave serious consideration to the idea of adoption. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain it was something she wanted to do. But she’d think about it.
Suddenly, her food had flavor once again.
The men attempted to sneak off to watch more football once dinner was complete, but Lola had other plans in mind for them. “If you think the woomons are gonna cook this dinner and then do all the cleanup, too, you have another think comin’,” she said. “Clear the dishes.”
“Ah, c’mon, Lola,” Will wheedled. “That’s woman’s work.”
“Wid thinkin’ like that, Will Ryder,” she retorted tartly, “it’s no wonder I’ve never seen a female at one of these functions wid you.” She handed him a stack of soiled dinner plates. “Get busy.”
He looked to Otis, who shrugged and picked up several platters. “Don’t look at me, boy. I married me a strong-minded woman, just like my mama. I just do what she says.”
Muriel patted Otis’s cheek, then reached past him to gather up the serving bowls. “This here’s the smartest of my boys,” she said as she laughingly dodged the dish towel Leon whipped at her bottom.
Aunie was enthralled. Never had her own family interacted with such warmth and casualness. Thanksgivings at home had always been such formal affairs. The homes of her relatives had been more elegant, the table settings richer, and the food served and cleaned up by silent servants. But they hadn’t been nearly as enjoyable.
“Jimmy looks right at home doin’ woman’s work,” Bob called from the kitchen where he was drying plates passed to him by one of the Jackson children, who stood on a chair to rinse the dishes handed to him by his mother. He tugged James’s ponytail when he passed by. “You ever gonna cut off all that hair, boy?”
“Nah, I thought I’d just grow it forever and give up wearing clothes. Save a few bucks that way.”
The women hooted and made ribald comments that expressed unanimous approval at the idea of a naked James. Aunie tried very hard not to, but she could visualize that. Graphically. For in the picture that flashed through her mind, James’s hair might reach the ground but it was still pulled back and clubbed at the nape of his neck with a rubber band. She shivered and industriously scrubbed down counters while she tried to conjure up less inflammatory images.
Late that night, as she lay in bed, she thought about this holiday with the Jacksons and the Ryders. Difficult now to believe she’d actually dreaded it.
When she’d set off from Atlanta to move to an unknown city on her own, it had seemed like the hardest thing she’d ever done. But it was funny: Seattle was beginning to feel more like home than home ever had felt—that was due entirely, she acknowledged, to the warmth and acceptance of her new friends. And after today’s test run of her ability to fit in, she felt she was finally ready to take the next step.
She was prepared to tackle a few acquaintances outside this apartment house.
CHAPTER 7
The private detective leaned back in his leather chair and gazed at his client across the massive expanse of his polished mahogany desk. His immediate impression was of a sophisticated man of obvious wealth. The P.I. wondered, however, if the client quite grasped just how expensive this prospective venture could become.
“You haven’t given me much to go on, Mr. Cunningham,” he said, and consulted the sparse notations on a yellow legal pad at his fingertips. “Your wife could be anywhere in the United States. She is probably using her maiden name, which is Franklin, and is possibly attending college. She has most likely opened an account at a bank, in which she will have deposited a sizable amount of money. The only correspondence that you are aware of her making is through her lawyer, although it is possible she may have contacted a man named Geoff Lemire.” He looked up from his notes. “Have I left anything out?”
Wesley crossed his legs, fastidiously hitching his trousers until the creases were aligned just so. “No,” he replied.
“As I said, it’s not much.” The detective tapped his gold pen against the pad. “Has she a particular friend anywhere? Someone she would go to who might help us narrow down the location?”
“No.”
“Then I must warn you, sir, that it could take us a long time to locate her. The blue slip in the packet I gave you earlier specifies our rates.” He watched the man pull out the slip and give it a cursory inspection. He appeared bored. “As you can see, with the amount of man-hours a case such as this could generate
, the cost is likely to become most prohibitive.”
Wesley didn’t care how long it would take or what it was going to cost. That bitch had had him arrested and put through the public humiliation of a trial. He pulled his checkbook from the inside breast pocket of his custom-tailored suit jacket. He wrote for a moment and then detached the check, handing it across the desk. The private detective’s eyebrows rose at the size of the retainer and Wesley rose to his feet.
“Find her,” he said in a flat, emotionless voice and walked briskly from the office.
Aunie sat with a group of students at a long table in the campus cafeteria. She didn’t contribute a great deal to the conversations swirling around her, but she nevertheless enjoyed being included in the camaraderie.
She was feeling pretty pleased with herself; she’d followed through on her Thanksgiving Day resolution to extend her circle of acquaintances. Of particular pride was the way she’d done so without resurrecting her phony old social-butterfly persona, since it had always been a role that had felt fraudulent and forced. She’d created it originally as a tool to assist her in the fulfillment of her family’s expectations, but she’d never felt comfortable with it.
She gave Lola and Otis the lion’s share of credit for her new willingness to make herself accessible to others. From day one, the Jacksons had treated her with a natural, easy acceptance that had made her feel that just by being herself she was a worthwhile and valuable friend. Otis’s description of her as a woman with attitude in all likelihood hadn’t been anything more than a casual comment to him. But to Aunie it had been an enormous ego booster, going a long way toward giving her the courage to trust her true personality to strangers. Her reception by his family on Thanksgiving Day had given her further reinforcement.
She wasn’t vivacious; she was quiet. But their acceptance helped her realize that that didn’t necessarily preclude the possibility of people liking her anyway. Even James, she somewhat grudgingly admitted, had unknowingly added to her confidence, simply by aggravating her. She discovered she liked the way she acted around him. He irritated her so much sometimes, she completely forgot to be shy and became quite aggressive. She liked that; she liked it a lot. Except for her one defiance in divorcing Wesley, she’d never been particularly assertive, and learning that she was capable of standing up for her rights felt like a giant step forward in her quest for independence.
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