Finding Mr. Right

by Gwynne Forster

Her long and anxious wait over, Tyra put her suitcase beside her front door and went into the breakfast room to check the table settings. “You coming back Sunday or Monday?” Maggie asked her.

  “Sunday night.”

  “That’s good. Never wear out your welcome. I don’t know what you’re planning, and I don’t have the right to ask, but I’ll tell you this, if you don’t come back here on cloud nine, honey, you’d better change gears.”

  “Thanks, Maggie. I look at it this way, I’ve never had a real vacation, never been out of the country, never been on a boat, never took a cruise and never spent a weekend with a man. I’m bound to learn something.”

  Maggie stared at her. “You can say that again.”

  The doorbell rang, and she made certain that nobody got to that door before she did. “Hi. I made you some Belgian waffles.”

  A grin spread over his face. “I love ’em. What am I going to put on them?”

  “Well, you can have two. One with strawberries and cream, and the other with bacon and maple syrup. How’s that?”

  He picked her up, swung her around and hugged her. “You’ve got my number going and coming. Are you going to give me some coffee?”

  She looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Sure, coffee and anything else that makes you happy.”

  He arched his left eyebrow. “Be careful. I may take that literally.”

  She put her hands on her hips and sashayed into the breakfast room ahead of him. “Suit yourself. You only get to live once,” she said, parroting Mae West, the drama diva of the 1930s. “And even if you get another chance, I may not be here.”

  He put his arms around her and gently pulled her to him. “You are one fresh woman, but you suit me to a tee.” He took a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Andy asked me to give you this.”

  She looked at the drawing of a little boy and what she supposed was a room full of bubbles. “Oh, Byron. This is so sweet. Thank you. Do you have a picture of the two of you that I may keep?”

  “Y’all better get to eating. That plane ain’t gonna wait for you.”

  They sat down, and Maggie said the grace. “Tyra makes these fancy European waffles, and I admit they sure are good, but I’m not about to spend that much energy on a waffle. Hmm. Tyra, this is super. I never woulda thought of putting strawberries and cream on ’em.”

  “They’re delicious. Say, where’s Darlene?” said Byron.

  “Darlene leaves for work at seven-thirty,” Maggie said. “She just started driving, and she doesn’t like to drive fast.”

  Byron savored a bite of waffle, and a smile of pure pleasure brightened his face. “Smart girl. Nobody should drive fast on that highway.” He drained his coffee cup and looked at Tyra. “I think we should start, sweetheart. We’ll be in rush-hour traffic.”

  “Okay.” She leaned over and kissed Maggie’s cheek. “Don’t let Clark drive you up the wall. He’s stuck in the Middle Ages. See you Sunday night.” She had a right to do as she pleased, but still, Maggie wasn’t only her housekeeper, but her surrogate mother, and walking off in her presence to spend a weekend with a man suddenly smacked of effrontery. She lifted her shoulder in a quick shrug. She wouldn’t consider lying to Maggie about that or anything else.

  Byron kissed Maggie’s other cheek. “Clark’s a good man. If he was taking my sister on a cruise, I’d behave precisely as he is, maybe worse. See you Sunday, Maggie.”

  She grasped his left hand, detaining him. “You take good care of my child. You hear?” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “She’s been mine ever since I pulled her out of her mama’s body. Before that, I didn’t even know what a newborn baby looked like, but it was blizzard weather, Mr. Cunningham was stuck at his office, and it was just me and her. Fortunately her mama was a doctor and knew what to do. This child is precious to me, Byron.”

  He hunkered before her chair. “She isn’t more precious to you than she is to me. I will protect her with my life if necessary. So don’t worry.”

  Maggie patted his hand and blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. “Y’all gone before you miss that plane.”

  Byron sat beside Tyra in the back of the limousine he’d hired to drive them to the Baltimore-Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport. Her quietness disturbed him. “Are you sorry you agreed to our taking this cruise?” he asked her.

  She found his hand without looking at him. “Of course not. But there are times when you need your mother, because you think you could ask her things that you wouldn’t dare ask another person.”

  “If it has to do with you and me, or any aspect of our relationship, share the problem with me, Tyra, and we’ll solve it. I promise you that nothing will happen between us unless you assure me that you want it.”

  She moved closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t need any assurance about you Byron, I know who you are.”

  “Good heavens, with that kind of reputation, I can’t act out even a little bit. What have I done to myself?” he quipped.

  She snuggled closer. “I’m sleepy, and your shoulder isn’t soft.”

  “Of course, it isn’t soft. Why are you sleepy?” He eased his right arm around her. “Couldn’t you sleep last night?”

  “Sure. I slept like a baby. Every weekend, I go off with some guy, so this is nothing unusual.”

  “Those guys don’t bend the frame, as they say. You can sleep from Baltimore to Fort Lauderdale.” She had a way of saying things that made him feel like a giant.

  “What time does the boat sail?”

  “Five-thirty. We’ll be there in plenty of time.”

  “You bought first class tickets?” she asked him when they were boarding the plane.

  “What kind of man would I be if I invited you for a romantic tryst and gave you the cheapest accommodations? Give me credit for some class, sweetheart.”

  “This is all new to me. I feel like a butterfly in a garden.” They took their seats, and he put their carry-on luggage overhead.

  “Champagne, orange juice or wine?” the stewardess asked.

  He looked at the woman who seemed tired before the flight began. “I’ll have some coffee, ma’am.”

  “I’d like a comet,” Tyra said. When he stared at her, she explained, “That’s a vodka comet without the vodka. Gosh, I’m so sleepy.”

  “Take a nap. I’ll awaken you when they serve lunch. I won’t feel deserted.”

  “Why should you? If you hadn’t fooled around in my head all night last night, I wouldn’t be sleepy.”

  “Was I…uh…nice?” He gave her half of a chocolate chip cookie that he put in his pocket when he walked through his dining room that morning.

  “Thanks for the cookie. That question’s too personal. Try another one.”

  Her eyelids drooped, and he put an arm around her, a pillow beneath her head and a blanket across her lap. Within minutes she slept. Even as she slept, when she moved, she moved toward him. He gazed at the peaceful, relaxed contours of her beautiful face and had to control an urge to hug and kiss her. She was in him through and through, and in a few short months, he’d grown to need her as he needed his right hand. He bent over and brushed her forehead with his lips.

  Because both of them lived with family members, and prudence dictated that they behave circumspectly, their passion had tested the limits of their capacity for restraint. And maybe that was a good thing; they had learned a lot about each other that they might not otherwise have known, and on at least two occasions recently, he was certain that, if they had had privacy, they would have made love. If they made love during that trip, and he hoped for it, it would not be a happenstance but something that they had both looked forward to and planned for.

  “Will the lady be having lunch?” the steward asked as he handed Byron a hot towel.

  “I’m sure she will,” Byron said. “Give me a towel for her, please.” He leaned down and kissed Tyra’s forehead. “You told me to wake you up at mealtime.” She st
retched, and snuggled closer to him.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  “Huh? Did they serve lunch yet?”

  He handed her the towel. “Here. You were sleeping so sweetly, loving me and hugging me up, that I hated to awaken you.”

  “I was not. I was back in the Middle Ages flirting with a handsome Spanish picador.”

  He didn’t believe he’d heard her correctly. “What? I didn’t understand you.” She assured him that he’d heard her correctly. He stared at her while she nonchalantly wiped her hands with the towel. “A picador in the Middle Ages?”

  She nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Suddenly, he could see the scene in his mind’s eye, and laughter rolled out of him.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing. I guess, if you can’t see the humor in sleeping in my arms and dreaming about some dude on horseback with a spear trying to take the wind out of a bull. That’s funny as hell.”

  She sat up straighter, poked out her chin and said, “He wasn’t anywhere near a bull. How long did I sleep, anyway?”

  “Only about twenty minutes. The plane’s just reaching cruising altitude, so we’ll get lunch shortly.” He glanced from the approaching steward to her. “I’m not too hungry, but we won’t get dinner until around eight, so judge accordingly.”

  “Thanks. I’ll have the crab salad and cheese and fruit for dessert, please,” she said to the steward. He chose filet mignon, parsley potatoes and asparagus with a salad.

  After lunch, he removed the arm rest between them, made her comfortable, put his arms around her, reclined his seat and went to sleep. He’d hired a limousine to meet them at the airport, and, in view of the long line of people waiting for taxis, it proved to be a smart move. They arrived at the cruise ship an hour and forty minutes before sailing time.

  He put her bags in her stateroom, looked at her and said, “I’m next door.” He pointed to a door that opened into his stateroom. “If you want to visit me, here’s the key. I don’t have one. The other way to get to me is through the door that opens on to the deck.”

  A grin spread over her face. “You’re kidding. What about my charms?”

  “If you want to know how they get to me, I’ll happily give you a demonstration right this minute.”

  “Okay. I was joking. I need half an hour. Then, I want to see the boat.”

  “All right, but before the boat sails, we get a talk about safety, use of lifeboats and that sort of thing.”

  “Can we stand on deck and watch the boat leave shore? Gosh, I’m so excited.”

  “We’ll do whatever you want to do.” He took a step toward her, but she backed away.

  “If you start kissing me, I won’t get to that safety lecture and probably not even to dinner.” He didn’t disagree.

  “Do you like your room?” he asked her.

  “It’s lovely. Thanks for putting me on this level where I can see the water.”

  He stepped closer to her then, and took her in his arms. “I will always give you the best that I have. Always. Don’t forget that.”

  “And I’ll give you the same. That’s a promise.”

  He gazed into her eyes, large, beautiful, long-lashed brown eyes that seemed to draw him as sweet clover draws bees. Eyes that promised him heaven on earth. Something quickened inside of him, and he knew right then that he was hers forever. “I’d better get out of here. Knock on my door when you’re ready.”

  He went into his own stateroom, closed the door, dropped his luggage on the floor and himself on the chaise longue beside the window. He’d come within seconds of ruining all that he’d planned for them. Shaking his head in bemusement, he pulled himself up, took a shower and dressed in white pants, a blue, collared T-shirt and blue sneakers. Then, he stored his passport and valuables in the safe, locked his door and went out on deck.

  Seagulls, herons, ibis, orioles, bulbuls and many birds that he couldn’t identify flocked at the dock in such numbers that they covered the area. He gazed out at the vast water beyond, wondering what that trip would bring him, for he knew that in some way his life was about to change. He heard her door open, turned and saw her step out of her room dressed precisely as he. If he needed more evidence that he was on the right track, that had to be it. Happiness suffused him as she walked to him with a smile blooming on her face. He opened his arms and received her.

  “Woman, you do something to me.”

  “Everybody must go to the auditorium,” a voice said through a loudspeaker. “This safety drill is required by law, and everyone must attend. We sail in forty-five minutes.”

  He lifted his right shoulder in a shrug. “Let’s go. I can’t think of anything less encouraging than a lecture on the use of life vests and lifeboats.”

  “That’s probably because you can swim. I can barely keep my head above the water.”

  He took from his pocket a map of the boat, checked it, took her hand and headed for the auditorium. “Have you ever thought about what you see in the future for us, Tyra?”

  “Of course I have. What I hope to find out while we’re on this cruise is whether you and I are on the same page,” she said with her usual candor.

  “I’ll do my best to help you with that.”

  After the safety instructions, they explored the boat. “Gosh, that’s a frozen yogurt dispenser,” she said to Byron when the turned a corner to walk up the stairs. He asked if she wanted some. “Do they have strawberry or lemon?”

  “Lemon.” He piled a cone high with frozen lemon yogurt, wrapped a napkin around the bottom of it and handed it to her.

  “You mean I can just come here and get it whenever I want it? Just like that? She snapped the fingers of her right hand. “Gosh. That’s fantastic.”

  “You can find something to eat twenty-four/seven. So don’t get carried away.”

  “Not to worry. I’m not going to gain so much that I can’t get into my clothes.” She savored the creamy delight. “This is so good. Where are we going now?”

  “To the bar, and then to the top deck to see the boat pull away from shore.” She could hardly contain her excitement.

  “After dinner, we can do karaoke, line dancing to a country music band, see an old Sidney Poitier movie or sit in the lounge and talk, since I assume you’re not interested in throwing your money away in the gaming rooms.”

  “Oh, I’m willing to give away five dollars, but not a penny more.” He asked her how she managed that. “I change a five dollar bill. I go to the slots. If I win five dollars, I put the five dollars back in my pocket and play with what I won. If I lose all of that, I tell the slot machines bye-bye. I do not go back in my pocketbook for more money.”

  They sat at a bistro table in the corner of the lounge, and she became aware that she didn’t have his full attention. After a while, she noticed that a man who wore the trappings of wealth had focused his attention on her. The man smiled. Simultaneously with her frown, Byron glanced at her.

  “Have you ever seen that man before?” he asked her.

  “No, I haven’t. Let’s go.”

  Byron crossed his left knee with his right ankle and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not ready to leave, Tyra, but don’t get nervous. I can hold my own with any man, and if that one is smart, he’ll find a woman of his own and ogle her.”

  He could tell her not to be nervous, but with that feral expression on his face, he had the bearing of a man ready to pounce. She knew that Byron’s type of man wouldn’t let another crowd his woman and that he wouldn’t let another man fool around in his space. She hoped the man wouldn’t challenge Byron, because she didn’t think he’d back down.

  “Byron, I’m getting sick. Come go with me to the women’s room. Please!”

  He stood, helped her up and put an arm around her. “I saw one around the corner.” She went into the woman’s room, leaned against the counter and her breathing came faster and faster.

  “Are you all right?” a woman asked her.r />
  “Just a little nervous. I’ll be fine. Thank you.” The woman left but was back in a minute. “A tall man standing outside, who’s dressed like you, wants to know if you’re okay. He seemed very worried.”

  “Thank you. Tell him I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” She breathed deeply in and out until she was able to regain her equilibrium. Maybe the foolish man had gone. In any case, she wasn’t going back to that particular lounge.

  When she emerged from the women’s room, he rushed to her. “Are you all right, sweetheart? If that guy upset you, I’ll—”

  She interrupted him. “It’s all right. That man is not normal, and he obviously doesn’t mind a fight. I’d be happier if we went up on the next level. I don’t want to go back there.”

  “I admit the guy probably wasn’t rowing with both oars, but—”

  She grasped Byron’s arm. “My dad always said that the certain way to avoid trouble was to turn and walk the other way when you see it coming. All right?”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s the last thing I’d do.”

  They walked in the direction of the stairs, and she saw that the gaming room had opened. “Let’s go in here.”

  “I see you want to blow your five bucks right now. All right.” He took her arm and walked with her past the roulette table to the row of twenty-five-cents-a-throw slot machines and handed her a five-dollar bill. She bought a five-dollar card with it, bet twenty-five cents and pulled the arm. It seemed that the bell would never stop ringing, and her eyes got bigger and bigger until, at last, she looked up and saw that she had just won sixteen thousand dollars.

  She pulled the card out, put her arms around him and hugged him. “That’s a good omen. I’m never going to leave you. Let’s go cash my money and get out of here.”

  But he stood as if frozen, staring down at her. “Don’t ever say a thing like that unless you mean it.”

  She frowned, trying to think. What was he talking about? “Like what?”

  “That you’re never going to leave me.”

  She stared right back at him. “I won’t of my own accord. Come on.”