By the end of the day, the guys had finished sheet rocking and bedding and taping the third bedroom, and I’d painted the second. All that was left was texturing and painting, and they could move in by the end of the week. Now, all I had to do was break this news gently to Aunt Sue and Uncle Lon. I talked to them every day, but carefully skirted the issue of roommates. I wasn’t sure how they would take it, but they weren’t paying my bills or anything. And they did want me to have roommates. I sighed. I still liked the idea I might be accountable to someone, anyone tied to my parents and my past. It made me feel like less of an orphan.
* * *
The end of the week found us all exhausted. Midterms had me studying until the wee hours of the morning, and noises in the house woke me often. My research for my creative writing project was coming to a head – I had to start writing soon. So after I took my last test on Friday morning, I suddenly knew where I wanted to go that afternoon. I headed down to an old part of town to check out a voodoo shop Mr. Jackson had mentioned in our last “Front Porch Sit,” as he called it.
We’d begun a ritual of sorts, Mr. Jackson and me. Every two or three days he would walk up the street on his afternoon stroll, and I would meet him on the front porch with a glass of tea or lemonade. He turned out to be a vessel of information on black folklore, and loved to tell stories.
I double checked the address Mr. Jackson had written down for me, and then studied the addresses on the shop fronts on the street. This definitely was not the best part of Baton Rouge, on the outskirts of the business district. You could tell the good businesses had migrated out, and all that remained were pawn shops, bars, junk stores, and X-rated video stores. I pulled around a corner, and spotted a parking spot on the side street. I walked around the corner and back up the street I had just driven. I had to dodge a couple of homeless men camped out on the sidewalk, and one man who seemed to be talking out of his head. Nearing him, I realized he perched on the brick sill of the shop I was looking for.
The shop was shady-looking. A “palm-reading” neon sign flashed in the front window, with faded tribal-print cloth strung under it. There was also a small showcase in the window, with rows of touristy evil-looking voodoo dolls. The man who had been chanting suddenly changed his speech as I stopped to go in the shop.
“De dead ones, dey eyes glow for you! You!” He spat the words at me in a hiss.
I backed away as he leapt up and ran down the sidewalk. Okay, that was strange. I put my hand on the silver bar on the glass door. The glass had been broken, and duct-tape held it together. A bell jingled when I entered. The shop was dimly lit, and the sweet, sickly smell of strange incense wafted though a curtained doorway leading to the back of the store. It was extremely warm outside today for a fall day, and the shop was unbearably stuffy and humid. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light inside, I focused on two men across the store from me, examining strange looking bottles and jars in a cabinet on the wall. Their movements were awkward, jerky… almost violent. I looked around the shop for someone who might work there, for these two seemed to be customers. I didn’t see anyone else and the shop appeared to be unmanned. The taller of the two, an olive-skinned man with short, choppy dreadlocks, turned to stare at me.
I was startled. Instantly, chill bumps rose on my arms. He had piercing green eyes, and smiled at me as though he knew me. Bits of a bad dream came back to me, a man holding a snake over his head and chanting… He lunged toward me, and I recognized what he held in his hand: a small red, yellow and black striped snake coiled in the bottom of the large jar he thrust at me. I turned to push my way back out the door, but it seemed to be jammed. I looked to my left to see if something was blocking it, and a large aquarium loomed right in front of my face with hundreds of the snakes writhing in a mass. The menacing man with strange eyes reached out and grabbed my arm, laughing in a deep, guttural voice, “We have been waiting for you!”
I shook my arm free, and pushed frantically against the door. It swung open this time. I stumbled from the store, my chest suddenly heaving. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and I knew I was going to throw up. I ran down the sidewalk blindly, tripping over the men in the alleyway and brushing past several people who had gathered on the sidewalk, barely seeing where I was going. Running into someone hard, I sucked in a breath to scream. Strong hands gripped my arms and pulled me close. I sucked in a breath to scream and looked up into Banton’s tanned, beautiful face.
“Chandler, what’s wrong?” he asked. “You are as white as if you’d seen a ghost. Are you all right?”
“No, I’m… not.”
I couldn’t catch my breath. I was having a full-blown panic attack. My knees buckled, and the world was slowly swirling out of focus as Banton caught me up in his arms. All I could think was please don’t let me get sick now. Banton steered me to a park bench down the street. I could hear his voice, and feel his breath on my face, but I couldn’t see anything. A car honked, and traffic sounds intruded on my black world. A few moments later, my stomach still churned, and as I finally tried to open my eyes, I found the world still swirling.
A woman came out of the shop behind us, and asked, “Is she ill? Do you need help?”
“Yes, do you have somewhere she could lie down?” Banton asked.
“Yes, please come this way.”
Banton picked me up off the bench like a ragdoll and carried me to the back of the store, a run-down flower shop that had seen better days. I struggled to make sense of my sudden attack of weakness…I remembered I hadn’t eaten today. My lack of nutrition probably contributed to my lightheaded state.
He put me down on a small sofa, and then sat carefully beside me on the edge. The shop owner returned with a cool washrag, and Banton began wiping my forehead as he unbuttoned the top two buttons on my blouse. Moving the cloth to my chest, he continued to try to cool my skin.
He lay the back of his hand on my forehead and asked in a soft voice, “Better, now?”
“Much, yes. Thank you.” I felt so silly now, I tried to sit up.
“Wait, Andie. We’re in no rush. Stay there for a few minutes and take it slow. You were really out there for a minute. What happened?”
I remembered the man with the dreadlocks from my dream, and felt my face go white again.
“A man in a shop down the street just startled me. I think I had a panic attack.”
“Did he frighten you? Did he hurt you?” he asked as his eyes narrowed with anger.
“Yes…No, nothing like that. I just…everything is fine now.” I didn’t want to tell him I had a flashback from a dream – he would think I was crazy. Oh, why did he have to find me in these weak moments? I hated appearing like the weak woman who needed saving all the time.
“Andie, you are still pale. Where is your car? I want to get you home.”
“Okay – it’s just around the corner.”
He helped me up, and thanked the woman for her kindness. As we drove home, I suddenly thought of his truck.
“Don’t you need to go back and get your truck? I can drive, really.”
“No, I’ll have John bring me back down to get it later. I want to get you home first. What were you doing in this neighborhood, anyway?”
“Research for my paper. Mr. Jackson down the street told me about a voodoo shop I might visit.”
“Chandler, this is a really dangerous neighborhood. Don’t come back down here alone!” He really sounded angry. “If you want to visit some voodoo shops, I’ll take you to N’awlins, down in the Quarter. You need to do the cemetery tour, if you are going to write about Marie Laveau. And you could visit your cousin you’re always talking about, Constance, isn’t it? Does that sound good?”
“Yes, I have to say, it sounds like a lot of fun.” Wow, was this a date?
“Great. Then we can go next weekend. Friday is a holiday from school. How about going Friday morning and spend the night, make a weekend of it?”
“I’d love to.” I smiled at him, and he quickly r
eturned it. Wow! The dimple again. I loved the dimple.
“Well, you are looking a lot better now.” He reached over and put his hand on my cheek, and caressed it with his thumb. He glanced back at the road, but didn’t remove his hand. He looked back at me as I continued staring at him, mesmerized.
“What?” He beamed at me.
“Nothing. Banton, you are really good to me. Thanks for everything you have done. I’m sure I would have run back to my aunt’s by now if it hadn’t been for you. You and John have worked so hard on my house, and I don’t tell you enough how much it means to me.”
We pulled into the driveway, and before I could unlock the door, Banton was out and around the SUV to open it for me. He helped me from the car like an invalid.
“Banton, really. I’m okay. I can walk on my own two feet.”
“But this is so much more fun.” His eyes twinkled. He grabbed me suddenly, and swept me up the front steps and through the front door. I slipped my arm around his neck…Wow, he smells good! It took all my willpower not to bury my face in his neck.
“Well, mercy me, if it isn’t the newlyweds.” Everett’s voice came from down the hallway. I cringed at the inference.
“Hey, Fruit Loop,” Banton smiled. “What are you doing here?” I cringed again as Banton used the nickname he and John had given to Everett, whether he could hear or not. Everett just seemed to take it in stride, understanding the endearment as I did. I didn’t think either Banton or John had a mean bone in their bodies.
Gliding into the entry hall, Everett announced, “I’ve rented us a movie to watch. I have pizza, no cooking for the little woman tonight. Everyone needs to celebrate your finishing the house and your first round of tests! We can get you guys moved and settled in your rooms upstairs tomorrow. Come on, let’s get this party started!” He fluttered his hands in the air as he barked commands at us.
Banton put me down, and I followed Everett into the sitting room. I stopped cold. A new woven tapestry western-style sofa, loveseat, club chair and ottoman sat in a grouping in front of the fireplace. Beside the fireplace on the wall there hung a new flat screen TV.
“What the…where on earth did all this come from?”
“Surprise!” I turned to find Aunt Sue and Uncle Lon standing behind me in the foyer.
“Aunt Sue!” I exclaimed as I ran into her arms. She and Uncle Lon embraced me at the same time, as Uncle Lon placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“And who’s moving in upstairs in the morning?” Uncle Lon asked.
I blushed. Boy, telling them this way really caught me off guard. He and Aunt Sue had the most disapproving looks on their faces, I suddenly wanted to cry. Taking a deep breath, I began to explain as Everett interrupted, “Oh, give it up, Andie. You know I dished the minute they got here this afternoon. I came over to finish painting upstairs and surprise you, and they arrived about thirty minutes later with a moving van to surprise you, too. I explained the whole ‘three’s company’ concept.”
I looked back at Aunt Sue. She was smiling, not able to hold the stern look any longer. “I think it’s a good idea. I trust Everett’s judgment already, and we’ve only known him a couple of hours. If he says these guys are great, then who am I to judge?” She laughed.
Uncle Lon didn’t seem so convinced. He stood back, and seemed to be studying Banton.
“Uh, what’s with all the furniture? I told ya’ll, I would take care of furnishing the house slowly. I can’t afford to pay you back.”
“There won’t be a need for any paying back. Lon’s mother just re-furnished her entire house, and all of this was going to storage or Goodwill. None of her grandkids needed these hand-me downs, so she thought you wouldn’t mind. Oh, and now you have a queen-size bed upstairs in your bedroom. No more sleeping on a blow-up mattress or the couch. Really, Chandler Ann!” Aunt Sue scolded. I hugged her neck again.
“And the flat screen?” I asked suspiciously.
“Oh, that’s just a housewarming present from your uncle and me. And you will find a few boxes in the dining room I thought you might be ready for, some of your mother’s things.”
After all the introductions, Banton and John grabbed some pizza and quietly slipped out to retrieve Banton’s truck from downtown. I was grateful he didn’t elaborate on why he drove my car home. I didn’t want my aunt and uncle worrying about my little episode this afternoon. Everett and I ate our pizza while we visited with Aunt Sue and Uncle Lon.
When Banton and John returned, my relatives said their goodbyes. They were meeting friends downtown for dinner before they headed back home. I got misty as I hugged them both again at the front door.
“You both are too good to me. Thank you so much!” I sniffed into Aunt Sue’s shoulder.
“You are ours now, Chandler Ann. We have always loved you like our own. Since your momma and daddy died and you came to us this summer, our lives have changed like we never expected. You are a blessed part of our family now. Don’t forget that.”
Uncle Lon kissed my forehead again. “You be careful…” He looked over my shoulder at Banton, who had come to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You need us, or anything, we are just a phone call away. I can be here in an hour if I have to.” It almost seemed like a warning. I wanted to laugh; if he only knew how protective Banton and John had both become.
“I’m super safe now, living with two ex-Navy SEALs!”
Uncle Lon continued to frown.
I’ll call often, I promise.”
“We love you, baby girl,” Uncle Lon murmured as he went out the door. I shut the door behind them and turned back to Banton. He was staring at me intently.
“Chandler, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked quietly, glancing into the living room at John and Everett. They were arguing over what movie we were about to watch.
“Sure,” I answered warily. I followed him up the stairs to my room, wondering why he brought me up here. As he closed the door behind us I raised an eyebrow.
“What is it, Banton?” I asked, more concerned now. I sat down on the edge of the unmade bed.
He walked over and stood in front of me. “Why didn’t you tell me about your parents, Chandler?” he asked softly.
“Oh.” I realized he must have overheard my aunt when she’d mentioned them downstairs .
“I had no idea you’d just experienced such a tragedy,” he continued gently. I suddenly felt guilty for not telling him. It seemed somehow like a lie not to have told him, after the way we had grown closer the past few weeks.
“I – I just hadn’t told anyone but Everett in Baton Rouge.” I glanced back up in his eyes. “I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it all. And it’s still so hard not to become emotional at times, it has just been easier not to talk about it. I left Texas because I couldn’t stand all the sad looks I got everywhere I went– I was drowning in sympathy. I almost ran when I left town. I left everything behind. I came here to escape the pain, to start a new life, and to heal. I promise you, that is the only reason I haven’t told you before now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Andie. I understand why you didn’t tell me. Is that the reason you had been crying Sunday morning when we came over?”
“Yes, part of it. I had really good dreams that night – it was like you willed it when you wished me good dreams as you left Saturday night. Then just before I woke, I dreamed my mother was here. I dreamed I could talk to her again, she was approving of the house, she was happy, sharing it with me…then I woke up. I guess for the first time, it really hit me they weren’t coming back.”
The tears were slipping down my cheeks now. Banton moved quietly over to sit on the edge of the bed next to me. He took me in his arms and held me for what seemed like an eternity. My shoulders shook with the sobs as he tightened his hold on me. He softly kissed the top of my head again, and my sobs quieted somewhat. He whispered in my ear, “Now that I know, maybe it will help. So Everett knows?”
“Yes, he knows a little. I
spilled the day I met him. But we’ve never really talked about it. I think he sensed I didn’t want to, and he has never pushed the issue.”
“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy, and a good friend, Andie. I like him.”
“So do I. I’m glad the three of you get along so well.”
“So when you’re down, when you want to talk, you’ll come to me?” he asked, gently guiding my face away from the front of his shirt.
“Yes, I promise.” His face was so close to mine, I unconsciously leaned in closer to him.
Suddenly, his lips found mine. Shockwaves ran through my body, and I was stunned by both his reaction and mine. For a second, it felt as if a flame had just been lit. He lips molded to mine, breathing slowly and softly into my mouth, and then suddenly opened his eyes, pulling his face away.
He paused, and the silence was deafening. We could clearly hear the movie starting downstairs. I held my breath, looking back down at his lips. I’d never wanted anything more than for him to kiss me again.
Then he broke the silence. “I’m so sorry, Chandler. I promise you I never intended to take advantage of the situation. It just seemed like the natural thing to do…I’m really sorry.”
My heart sank. He obviously regretted his momentary lapse in judgment. I found my voice and replied, “Don’t worry, Banton, really. It’s perfectly okay. I’m the one who leaned into you. Don’t let this make everything weird for all of us. I mean, with you and John moving in tomorrow…It was just a kiss, really.” I smiled at him hesitantly, trying to reassure him while I was dying inside.
“I don’t want anything to make you feel you can’t trust me, Chandler.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I answered, as I studied his face. Oh, God…can he hear my heart pounding? I suddenly wanted to pull him back down to my lips, and wished he could read my mind.
He laughed nervously. “Let’s go back downstairs before they send a hunting party after us.”
When we returned to the living room, Everett was curled up on the loveseat, totally engrossed in the movie, and John was already snuggled down comfortably in the big chair with his feet propped up on the ottoman, snoring loudly. Everett studied my face as we sat down on the sofa, and he must have wondered at my red, swollen eyes. We settled in to watch the movie, but I had no idea what we were watching. My head was swimming with the possibilities of what had transpired upstairs. Did Banton want to kiss me as much as I had wanted it? Was his concern just brotherly, or was he truly attracted to me? I grabbed a pillow off the sofa beside me, and clutched it to me as I pulled my feet up under me, snuggling up into the corner of the sofa. I mulled the conversation over and over, and my eyelids became so heavy…
Southern Comfort: Chandler's Story (The Southern Series Book 1) Page 7