“And me,” Jazzy inserted.
“And you, too, baby girl. Sunday dinner is an institution in this house.”
“It really is lovely, even the bickering,” Monica said, her smile more genuine this time.
“You haven’t heard bickering yet,” Alex said. He licked mashed potatoes off his right knuckle and pointed two fingers in Eli and Toby’s direction. “Get these two on the golf course. It’s like a replay of Tyson versus Holyfield.”
“I’m just happy they haven’t hurt each other yet, at least not enough to require medical attention,” Mama lamented.
Eli exchanged a smile with Toby, though he could still knock his brother upside the head.
To Eli’s surprise, Alex kept Monica engaged even more than Mama. Several times over the course of dinner he brought Monica into the table’s discussion. Nia needed no one’s help. She was a natural conversationalist, and had charmed the apron strings right off Mama.
It wasn’t until Alex started asking more personal questions—seemingly out of the blue—that Eli started to suspect his brother was up to something. Alex tried to play it smooth, addressing both Monica and Nia about how they chose their careers, what part their families had played in their decisions, and whether anyone other than family had influenced them, but Alex wasn’t known for his subtlety. Every time his older brother opened his mouth, Eli cringed.
“I always had my heart set on being a doctor,” Monica said, her elbows resting on the table, hands folded underneath her chin.
“It’s a hectic job. Even though we live in the same city, E and I can go a week without seeing each other.”
“He gets enough complaints from me,” Mama chimed in.
“I understand,” Monica said, sending Nia a knowing look. “But career goals have always been very important in my family.”
“Putting in long hours is second nature to the Gardners,” Nia added.
“None of your boyfriends ever complained?” Alex asked Monica.
Eli nearly kicked his brother under the table.
“Well...it did pose a problem a few times, but nothing major,” Monica said, glancing uncomfortably around the table.
“It’s a good thing you and Eli are together. You understand each other’s schedules. It’s like a perfect match.”
Eli’s fists clinched. What was Alex doing? Eli wanted to do this on his time. He did not need an older brother, who was as inconspicuous as a brick landing on her head, bombarding Monica with a bunch of private questions.
His mother blessedly ended the conversation by announcing ice cream and apple pie for dessert.
“Eli, can you help me in the kitchen,” his mother asked as she rose from the table.
Eli wiped his mouth and pushed his seat back. He followed his mother into the kitchen and headed for the freezer to get the ice cream.
“Elijah—”
He closed his eyes briefly and turned. “Look, Mama, I know what you’re about the say.”
“No, you don’t. You see—”
A knock at the door stopped her.
Chapter Sixteen
His mother’s eyelids slid shut, and a pained expression came over her face. “I forgot to ask Tosha not to come over,” she finished.
“You what? Mama!”
“I know you all are in there.” Eli heard the high-pitched voice coming from the porch and cursed himself for not locking the door behind him. Had the wrongs he’d committed over the years really been bad enough to deserve this?
“There you two are,” Tosha said, entering through the back kitchen door. She cradled a dish in her hands. “I brought along a lemon and ginseng pie.”
“Oh…that’s so thoughtful of you, honey,” his mother said, taking the pie from Tosha’s hands and placing it next to the apple pie on the tray.
“How are you doing, Eli,” Tosha crooned, snuggling entirely too close up to him.
“I’m good, Tosha,” Eli answered.
His mother gave him a what-do-we-do-now? look, which Eli returned with a look that said how-do-you-expect-me-to-know? Though for Eli, to be honest, after how the rest of the day had unfolded, Tosha showing up to the same dinner where both Monica and her sister-in-law were in attendance seemed par for the course.
Eli made the decision that instant to return to church. He definitely needed to make up for past sins.
All three heads spun when Monica walked into the kitchen. They were silent for a second, and then both he and Mama began speaking at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Mama said, over-speaking her son. “Monica, this is Tosha Culpepper, an old friend of the family.”
Eli shot his mother a surprised look. At least her tune had changed.
“Nice to meet you, Tosha,” Monica strolled toward them, her hand extended.
Tosha shook Monica’s hand. “Are you here with Toby? I heard he was in town.”
Monica looked pointedly at Eli.
“Monica and I work together at Methodist Memorial,” Eli said. “We’ve been seeing each other.”
“I’m going to serve dessert,” Mama said, making a quick exit from the tension-filled kitchen.
“I didn’t realize you were attached, Elijah,” Tosha’s voice had taken on a definite edge.
“Eli,” Monica interrupted. “I came to tell you and your mother that I have to be going. I need to take a nap before my shift starts tonight.”
“Okay,” he answered. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he added in a tone that could not be misinterpreted.
“Nice meeting you,” she said to Tosha, electing not to respond to his statement.
Tosha didn’t answer. When Monica was gone, she turned to him. Eli took an instinctive step back. The woman was geared for attack.
“So, were you not going to tell me you had a girlfriend? Were you going to just play along as if you were single?” Her voice escalated with each question. “Are you two serious, or are you stringing her along like you do every woman you’ve ever been with? You will never change, Elijah.”
The conversation in the other room had stopped. Damn. Alex and Toby would rib him for the next five years after this.
“I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” Tosha continued, her squeal reaching an all-time high. “You are nothing but a two-timing, conceited dog. You’re going to get yours, Elijah Holmes. And I hope it hurts like hell!”
She took off like a rocket, slamming both the kitchen and porch doors on her way out. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound coming from the boom of someone’s stereo as they cruised down the street.
Eli leaned against the kitchen counter and threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. If this was the turn his life had taken, he would need more than just church to overcome it. He was going to bible study, too. He might even stay around for the fellowship hour.
“Is everything okay?”
Eli opened his eyes and looked over at his mother standing at the edge of the doorway that led from the kitchen into the dining room.
“I’m not bleeding,” he answered. “That’s the best that could be expected.”
“I don’t know how I forgot to call her. It just slipped my mind.”
“I hope you don’t enjoy the lemon and ginseng pie too much. I doubt you’ll be getting another any time soon.” He looked over at her, his eyes probing. Eli crossed his arms over his chest and braced his feet apart. “What did you tell her, Mama?”
He couldn’t wait to see how she talked her way out of this one.
“Tell who?” She walked over to the sink and started stacking the pots and pans on the counter.
“Don’t start doing those dishes. I want to know what you told her.”
“Who?”
“Tosha. What did you tell Tosha?”
“I didn’t tell her anything.”
Yeah, right. As screwy as Tosha was, even she wouldn’t just assume there was something between the two of them after fifteen years.
“Did you tell her there was a chance the t
wo of us would get back together?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Now you know better than that, Elijah.”
“I know you,” he said, walking toward her. “It would not be the first time you meddled in one of your sons’ lives.”
She shook her head, refusing to look him in the eye. That told Eli that whatever was about to come out of her mouth was not the whole truth.
“I didn’t give her any impression, one way or the other.”
“Umm hum.”
Mama turned and plunked a hand on her hip. “Mais, ja mais d’la vie.”
Oh, yeah, she was lying. Whenever his mother wasn’t telling the truth, she’d revert to the Cajun French she learned growing up in the Acadian section of west Louisiana.
“You don’t have to believe me,” she mumbled.
“Mama, I’m with Monica.”
“And I couldn’t be happier,” Mama answered, her eyes lighting up. “She is lovely. I agree with Alex, the two of you are perfect together.”
“I’m happy you think so, but do me a favor, don’t butt in.”
Her mouth gaped open. “When do I ever butt—”
Eli caught her open lips between his fingers and closed them. “Don’t even finish that statement.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Go and get yourself some dessert.”
“Only if you come with me. Your sons will do the dishes.”
Mama threw the dishtowel she’d just snatched from the drawer onto the counter. “Well, isn’t it nice to have all three of my boys home? I could certainly get used to y’all taking care of me for a while.”
Eli put his arm around her waist and bent down to give her smooth black hair a peck. “Come on, we’ve got lemon pie waiting for us.”
“You can eat it. I’m not getting near that pie.”
“Nia’s probably finished it, anyway.”
“That girl sure likes her food, doesn’t she? Too bad she’s married. She would be perfect for Toby.”
Eli squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t start.”
After dessert had been eaten and all the dishes stacked in the kitchen, Alex broke out the Scrabble game. They formed teams: Alex and Mama, Nia and Toby, and Eli and Jasmine, who had the advantage of having none of their words challenged since no one dared tell Jazzy her made up words were not real.
When it came time for Nia to leave, Eli offered her a ride to the airport, much to the ire of his two brothers who were left with a mile-high stack of dishes.
They drove back to Monica’s apartment, and Eli brought down Nia’s bags, which she admitted numbered more after her earlier shopping expedition.
They headed west on I-10 toward Louis Armstrong International Airport.
“So, did you enjoy your stay in the city?” he asked.
“I loved it. It’s good to see the city coming back. I’ll definitely remember more of this one than the last time I came down here.”
“It’s probably best you don’t remember that first trip. Most people seem to regret the combination of Mardi Gras and booze.”
“I’m sure I’ve subconsciously blocked it all out,” Nia laughed, then she turned to him. “Okay, enough with the crap.”
Eli looked over from the driver side, surprised at her swift demeanor change.
“I like you. You’re cute, got a good job, and you seem to have your shit together. That’s why I’m trusting you with my dearest friend.” The look on her face was dead serious. “I’m telling you now, Elijah Holmes, if you break her heart I will come down here and kick your ass. I’ve fought a man before. Don’t think I wouldn’t do it again.”
Okay, so Nia was way overprotective of Monica. In fact, it seemed as if she was trying to prevent something that had happened once before. She would not be this concerned without good reason. Monica had been hurt, and Nia Gardner knew the story. Now how could he get it out of her?
It was crucial he learn who and what had hurt Monica. Well, knowing who wasn’t really necessary, but Eli wanted to know anyway. He at least wanted the name of the biggest fool on the face of the earth.
Knowing what, however, was essential. If he knew what had hurt her, he had a better chance of not doing the same. But could he get Nia to open up about it?
Monica obviously had not divulged the truth of their arrangement, which surprised him. Women always talked about this kind of stuff, especially two as close as Monica and Nia. It made him feel guilty for spilling his guts to Alex.
The fact that Nia didn’t know about their deal worked to his advantage, since he was ready to throw the deal out the window and pursue a serious relationship with Monica anyway. If Nia knew about their bargain, she would be skeptical about sharing anything from Monica’s past.
Eli took his right hand off the wheel and placed it over his heart. “I promise, with my whole heart, never to hurt Monica.”
“Does this mean you’re serious about her?” she asked, a curious raise to her eyebrows.
“Most definitely,” he answered without hesitation. More than even Monica knew.
“Good.” Nia straightened in her seat. “So when Phillip and I come back, you and Monica will still be together.” This was a statement, not a question.
Eli caught the note of triumph in her voice, as if she’d orchestrated the entire thing. He flashed her a quick glance. Was he being played?
They arrived at the airport. Eli drove up the ramp to the loading zone and pulled in at the outside check-in kiosk. He opened the back door where her bags were stored and motioned for a skycap.
Nia alighted from the Rover. “Thanks for the ride.” She hefted a small carryon bag over her shoulder.
“No problem.” Eli handed the skycap a ten dollar bill. He gave Nia a hug. “Don’t make yourself a stranger.”
“You fed me your Mama’s cooking. You can’t get rid of me now.”
Eli chuckled. “Margo Holmes’ kitchen is always open.”
“You’d better watch what you say. I won’t hesitate to hop on a plane and fly down here when the mood for gumbo hits me. I’ve been known to do some crazy things in the pursuit of good food.”
“As I said, you are always welcome.” Eli reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pulled out one of his cards, realizing the first step in getting information out of Nia started with establishing contact outside of Monica. “My office, pager, and cell numbers are on here, along with my email. If you ever want to surprise Monica, but don’t want to get a cab from the airport, give me a ring.”
“I just may take you up on that. Hold on a minute.” Eli tried to hide his smile as Nia shuffled through her purse. She came up with a business card. Yes. “If you need anything, just let me know. Now, you take care of my girl.”
“Yes, ma’am.” They exchanged another light hug. “Have a good flight.”
Eli remained where he stood until Nia walked through the automatic doors. When she was gone, he got in his SUV and headed back for Mama’s. Hopefully, Alex and Toby had already washed the dishes.
Chapter Seventeen
Cheating husband.
Of all the vile, intolerable words to spew from Amanda’s mouth during her tirade, cheat was the one that continued to ring through Jeffrey’s mind.
If there was one thing he had never thought about throughout their eleven years of marriage, it was to cheat on his wife. Even during their estrangement this past year, when she wouldn’t so much as look his way while other women practically threw themselves at him, Jeffrey had not considered for one minute sleeping with another woman.
Why would she even suggest it? Was it just to hurt him? Was she trying to catch him off guard? She’d accomplished both.
Jeffrey capped the torch and put his welding tools away. The guys for the nightshift were starting to trickle in, and he wanted to be out of here as soon as his relief walked through the shop door.
He and Amanda had a long night ahead of them. He had to get to the bottom of her suspicions.
Jeffrey exchanged the pertinent
facts with his counterpart on nightshift, and left the shipyard. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway, his shoulders sinking in relief at the sight of Amanda’s car. All day he had feared he would come home to find her gone.
Instead of pulling along side it, Jeffrey parked the Ford Explorer behind her Nissan Altima, blocking the car in. He was not giving her an easy escape.
Jeffrey grabbed his lunch kit from the passenger seat and headed for the side door that led to the utility room. He deposited his steel toe boots and Nomex jumpsuit; changing into the jeans and T-shirt he left hanging on the coat hook behind the door.
Amanda was at the sink, frantically rubbing two potatoes together as she held them under running water.
“Do you think I cheated on you?” Jeffrey asked without preamble.
She jumped, the potatoes falling from her hands. She turned. “My goodness, Jeffrey,” she said, putting a wet hand to her chest. “Are you crazy?”
“Answer my question?”
“What’s your problem?”
“The fact that my wife thinks I screwed around on her.”
She turned back to the sink and resumed washing the potatoes, her hands moving in quick, jerky motions. “Jeffrey, I don’t have the time or energy for this.”
Jeffrey shook his head as he walked up behind her. “No, you are not turning your back on me.” He grabbed both Amanda’s wrists in one fist and used his other hand to turn off the water. He turned her around to face him. “I’m not going to let you accuse me of something I didn’t do. Now why did you say that yesterday?”
“Don’t manhandle me.” She tried to yank her wrists, but his grasp was too firm. Jeffrey tightened his grip even more.
“Why, Amanda?”
“Do you want me to use big letters and neon lights?” she yelled.
“Yes. Apparently, I need you to spell it out for me since I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Jeffrey. You know what you did.”
“I know for eleven years I went to work everyday so I could provide for my wife. And instead of appreciation, I get accused of cheating.”
Deliver Me Page 17