Finding Mr. Right

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Finding Mr. Right Page 8

by Gwynne Forster


  He got home from work Friday evening, showered, shaved, went over Andy’s reading and arithmetic with him and fell across his bed, exhausted. They had settled the damage suit and although he knew his client would be satisfied, he’d given up more than he wanted to. He turned over on his back and put the lawsuit behind him.

  “Daddy. Daddy. Wake up. Tyra wants to talk to you, Daddy. She wants to know if you’re all right. Here’s the phone, Daddy.”

  He rolled over and sat up. “What time is it, Andy?”

  “Wait a minute. Your watch says six twenty-seven. Here’s the phone.”

  “Hello.” He barely recognized his gravelly voice. “Tyra? This is awful, sweetheart. I came home exhausted, checked Andy’s homework, showered and laid across the bed. I didn’t intend to go to sleep. No, I don’t want you to meet me at my dad’s place. I’ll call him, and I’ll be at your place in half an hour. I’m sorry about this.”

  He hung up, called his father and explained. “I was arguing a case for four solid hours today. See you at about seven-twenty.” He put on a gray pinstriped suit, a white shirt and a pink and gray paisley tie.

  “Where’re you going, Daddy?”

  “I’m going to your grandfather’s house, and I’m late.”

  “Is Tyra going, too?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Tyra has a pretty voice. Where does she live, Daddy?”

  “About fifteen miles from here, and I’d better hurry. I’ll answer the rest of your questions tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  Fortunately, Tyra didn’t live in Frederick, but in its suburbs just off Route 70. If there was no traffic, he’d make it by seven. His father lived closer to Frederick than to Baltimore, so he didn’t expect to get there too late.

  Tyra opened the door and stared up at Byron. “You shouldn’t haven driven so fast. Please don’t speed like that.”

  He picked her up, swung her around, set her on her feet and hugged her. “I don’t as a rule, but there was no traffic. You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. You always look great, but this dress is…something else.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I didn’t want to wear anything too revealing.”

  Both of his eyebrows shot up and then slowly returned to their normal positions. “I see what you mean. Where’s Maggie?”

  “She and Darlene went to see a movie. I’m ready when you are.”

  He glanced down at her feet. “Hmm. You’re taller tonight. Where’s your handbag?”

  She handed him her key. “I don’t need one.”

  “Thanks for your confidence, and thanks for calling and waking me up.”

  “I was upset, because I didn’t know what happened to you. You’re never late. Andy is an exceptional four-year-old. He asked my name, and when I told him, he asked me how I spelled it. He already knows the alphabet?”

  “Andy reads at second grade level, and he can manage some third grade books. He’s working on arithmetic. That’s his idea. I encourage, but I don’t push him. He loves to read, and he loves to learn.”

  “That means you’ve spent a lot of quality time with him. I’m happy to hear it. Whatever constructive time you invest in a child pays rich dividends.”

  “True.” He headed to Route 40 and a shortcut to his dad’s house. “Andy had questions about you, and he’ll have some more tomorrow. By the way, he thinks you have a ‘pretty voice.’”

  “How sweet of him. I would expect your child to be smart. But if he didn’t have the voice of a small child, I could have mistaken him for a much older child. He said, ‘Dad’s asleep. You want to talk to him?’ I told him I did and he said, ‘Just a minute, please.’”

  The closer they got to their destination, the more nervous she became. Finally, Byron said, “Look, baby, you have to stop twisting your hands. This is not going to be torture. My dad is a great guy.”

  “I believe you, but my nerves don’t.”

  “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.” He turned into a narrow lane over which hung a trellis of brides’ bushes in full white bloom, and she gasped at the beauty of it as the dying sun rays peeped through.

  “This is idyllic, Byron. How long has he lived here?”

  “Since before I was born. He wouldn’t leave here for anything. He has a large garden, a terrace and a swimming pool in the back of the house. It’s all well protected, and he’s happy here.” The big white brick house loomed in front of them.

  “He lives in this huge house by himself?”

  “Yes, but his housekeeper-cook comes every day except Sunday. He has a lot of friends, too.” The sensor in his car opened the gate, and he drove through and parked in front of the house.

  “I’m surprised he has a locked fence.”

  “I told him to install it when he put the swimming pool in, and he’s glad he did. Most of the properties out here are fenced.” He got out, opened her door and took her hand. “Dad may have invited a friend to join us. I’d better warn you women like him a lot.”

  “Why are you telling me that?”

  “So you’d stop being nervous. The devil made me do it.” He hugged her with one arm as he rang the bell.

  The door opened and she looked into the face of a tall, svelte man in an off-white linen suit, white shirt and red tie. His face transformed itself into a warm grin that seemed to glow. Her nervousness gone, she stepped into the house and hugged Lewis Whitley.

  “Now I know why he wanted me to meet you. He wanted to show off. Welcome, Tyra. I’m pleased that you agreed to come to dinner with Byron so that you and I could get to know each other.” She saw him look over her shoulder and give the thumbs-up sign to his son. “Come on in, son. She’s a lovely lady.” When they embraced, she could see that it was genuine and that they did it often.

  As if he wouldn’t be outdone, Byron put an arm securely around her waist and said, “Dad, this is Tyra Cunningham. Tyra, I don’t have to tell you that this is my father, Lewis Whitley.”

  “No,” she said, happier and more self-confident than she’d been in a week. “You’re the spitting image of him.”

  “Come in, you two. Meet my neighbor. We’re friends. She’s not man-hunting.” Tyra stifled a gasp, looked up at Lewis and relaxed when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. He had a mischievous streak. But that shouldn’t have surprised her; so did Byron. They walked into the living room, and her gaze landed on the huge stone fireplace at one end and the enormous Persian carpet that covered the other half of the room near the fireplace where comfortable seating had been arranged. Good taste everywhere and evidence of the money with which to indulge it. At the other end of the room sat a Steinway grand, and a music stand facing a floor to ceiling picture window.

  “Nora Smith, this is my son, Byron, and his friend, Tyra Cunningham.” They finished the introductions, and Lewis served drinks and snacks, sat down and made himself comfortable. “Tyra, this is the house in which Byron grew up. I hope you’ll spend a lot of time here.”

  “Thank you, sir. Do you play the piano?”

  “Yes, I do, and the violin, too. Next to my work, I get the most pleasure out of music.” He sat forward, his face bright and animated, already immersed in the subject. “I can play for hours and not realize the passing of time.”

  “Does Byron play the piano with you when you’re playing the violin?”

  “When he was a teenager, we did that all the time. I have more music for piano and violin than any other kind. We still play together occasionally. Do you play a musical instrument?”

  “No, sir. When I was growing up, I didn’t have the opportunity to learn, but I’d give anything if I could play the piano.”

  “Buy a piano, give me an hour—preferably two—of your time every week, and in one year, you’ll be playing, that is if you practice. How badly do you want to learn?”

  She wanted to look at Byron for advice, but forced herself not to. “I want it badly enough to buy a piano, come here for two hours every week and practice.” She turne
d to Byron. “What do you think of that plan, Byron?”

  “He’s a wonderful teacher. Could you teach her on Monday evenings, Dad?”

  Lewis leaned back in his chair and looked at his son. “I’m not sure your presence would be a help, but let’s try it that way. Let Byron know when you’re ready to start.”

  “Thanks. I will. You can’t imagine what this means to me. Byron told me I should study, and I hadn’t made a move toward getting started.” Tyra looked at the other guest. “Do you play an instrument, Mrs. Smith?”

  “Good heavens, no. I gave that up when I was ten. When it comes to music, my only talent is for listening.”

  “Dinner’s ready, Mr. Whitley,” announced Mrs. Owens, the housekeeper.

  Lewis introduced his housekeeper to his guest, said the grace, tasted the wild mushroom soup, looked at his housekeeper and gave her the thumbs-up. “Up to your usual high standard, Mrs. Owens.”

  At the end of the elegant meal, Lewis told his housekeeper that she could leave, and called a taxi for her. “Tyra and I can make the coffee and serve it, you go on home”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s been a long day. Good night, all.”

  Tyra knew that Lewis had maneuvered it so that he could have a moment alone with her. “What kind of coffee are we making?” she asked him. “I expect Byron wants espresso. Can we make that?”

  “I have a machine. What kind do you want, Nora?”

  “Espresso will be fine, since it’s still a few hours from bedtime.”

  Tyra followed him to the kitchen, a modern setting in royal blue and pale yellow and where cooking would be a joy. She was not going to be the first to speak. If he wanted to talk, he’d have to open the conversation. And he did.

  “Byron is enchanted with you.”

  She didn’t look at the man, but continued to rest her gaze casually over the kitchen. “Serves him right. He’s got me stupefied.”

  “What? He’s got you…” He put his hands on his hips and looked at her, and she couldn’t help grinning. She’d put him on the spot. Suddenly laughter poured out of him.

  “By gosh, he’s got his match. By the way, have you met Andy?”

  “Only by phone. We’ll get around to that when Byron and I are both ready for it.”

  “You’re protective of Byron, I see.”

  “Shouldn’t I be?” Might as well go for broke. “I work at the Legal Aid Center, and I’m the only female among the professional counselors. I’m getting to know how unusual a man Byron is, and I have so much respect for him both for his qualities as a human being and for the way he treats me. He’s very special.

  “From the time I was seventeen, I was mother and father to my brother and sister. I didn’t have financial problems, because our parents left us well provided for, but I was never a teenager or even a young adult. From age seventeen on, I was a grown up with adult responsibilities. My siblings have their degrees and their professional jobs and careers now, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been since I lost my parents. Byron is one of the main reasons for that.”

  While she spoke, Lewis focused intently upon her, seeming to digest every word she said. He leaned against a counter, folded his arms, crossed his ankles and narrowed his right eye, as if in deep thought.

  “You’re the first woman my son has brought home since he introduced me to the woman he married, and she’s been dead a little over four years. That alone told me to expect an exceptional woman. And you are. I hope I have the chance to welcome you to my family as my daughter-in-law.”

  “Thank you, sir. And thank you for making me feel at home here.”

  “I couldn’t have done otherwise. Let’s get this coffee in there before Byron thinks I chased you off. I think I want some more of that key lime cake. Let’s take it along.” He added cake plates and forks to the tray.

  “Say, I thought you two went to Colombia to get the coffee,” Byron said and looked at Tyra. “I figured he wanted either to ask you some questions or to tell you something, and since you’re not angry, I’m assuming it went well.”

  “Come now, you have a wonderful dad.”

  “I didn’t mention this to Tyra,” Lewis said, “but I’m sure you know I’d like some more grandchildren while I’m still young enough to enjoy them and you’re young enough to raise them properly. That’s not what we talked about, but it’s the conclusion I drew from what we talked about. Have some cake to go with the coffee, Nora.”

  Byron looked at his father and grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Chapter 6

  As he drove away from his father’s house, Byron realized that he didn’t want to take Tyra home, yet he couldn’t take her to his home because no one there knew of his interest in her. Besides, he knew that, in the circumstances, she wouldn’t go there. He needed to make love with her, but if she said he was rushing her, she could be right but not from where he stood. Looking at her all evening in the melon-red dress that caressed every curve of her body had amounted to what seemed like a prison sentence. Her luscious breasts with their protruding aureoles were a sight for any man, and his mouth had watered as he gazed at them. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to get something between his lips.

  He glanced over at her, quiet before the storm that he would unleash in her the minute he kissed her. “How’d you get on with my dad?” He knew the answer, but he needed a conversation opener, and that was as good as any.

  She’d been slumped in the seat, but she sat up. “Your father is charming. Serious, too. I think we got on very well. I can’t imagine what I was afraid of. Do you mind if he teaches me the piano? If you do, I can find an easy way to get out of it. Since it involves your father, I readily accept and abide by your feelings about it.”

  “Dad usually has his own agenda. If he offered, he’s serious about it, and he wants to do it, so why not?”

  “But if you and I broke up, that could be a sticky wicket.”

  “You and I are not going to break up, and if you think we are, I’ll park this car and prove it to you right now.”

  “You’d get a ticket for making out in a public place.”

  “You’d get one, too.”

  She rested her hand on his knee, and that was the wrong thing, because he was already about to incinerate. “What’s the matter, Byron? Something’s itching you.”

  What the hell! “Something definitely is. I want to…to be with you so badly that I’m about to explode. But you asked me not to rush you, and I’m trying to do as you asked, but baby, it gets more difficult by the second.”

  “I’m sorry. How does your father get along with your Aunt Jonie?”

  “What? Great. She’s his sister-in-law, and they always got along well. I wish I could take you home with me. Tell you what. Let’s have a picnic at my house Saturday. Andy loves picnics, and I’ll let him invite a couple of his friends. We’ll blow up his tent for the children, and we’ll have a real barbecue picnic.”

  “Sounds good to me. What does Andy like?”

  “I’ll give that some thought, and let you know.” He wasn’t sure that he wanted her to bring Andy a gift. The boy could be very manipulative and, once he got to know Tyra, he wouldn’t be above calling her and telling her what to bring him. “If you’re not accustomed to mischievous little boys, Andy will take advantage of you.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting him. You sure you want to do this?”

  “We need to see what we’ve got going for us, Tyra. What we feel for each other goes deep, and I think we’re ready for the next step, because our expressions of what we feel aren’t enough, never have been.” He parked in front of her house and cut the motor.

  “Leaving you right now is costing me more than I can tell you.” The words “Come here to me” trembled out of him, and her soft, warm body moved into his hungry arms. She took his tongue into her mouth and sucked it feverishly. When his head began to spin or seemed like it, he set her away from him.

  “We need some privacy, Tyra. Wil
l you go away with me for a few days?”

  “Let’s see how it goes Saturday with the picnic.”

  “Are you saying you don’t know whether you want to be with me?”

  “That is definitely not what I’m saying, because I…it wouldn’t be honest. But if I’m going to give myself a chance with you, I need to know what my chances are with Andy. He’s the question mark in this relationship, and I don’t want him to be that, because he’s as important an ingredient in what happens ultimately between you and me as either of us is.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it in precisely that way, but I agree with you.” He eased her back into his arms. When she was close to him, she was all his, and he didn’t want her to do too much thinking right then.

  “When do you want us to go away, and where did you have in mind?” she asked, snuggling closer to him and giving his libido a fit.

  “Think in terms of a short cruise in the early part of September.”

  She kissed his jaw. “You’re so sweet. I…”

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “Nothing. Just be glad I can’t have my way with you right now.”

  When he could get his breath back, he said, “My day will come, and when it does, I’ll let you do anything to me that gives you pleasure.”

  “Sitting like this in a car at night is dangerous,” she said, as if they hadn’t just agreed that at a coming time, they would be intimate.

  He gazed at her for a long minute. “I can’t shift gears as fast as you can.” He got out and went around to open the door for her.

  As they entered her foyer, Clark came out of the dining room, evidently headed for the stairs. He stopped. “Say, man, how’s it going. I didn’t realize that you two are seeing each other on a regular basis.”

 

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