Jericho shook his head. “No. It would have been awkward if we were naked. But we still have our clothes on so this is just comical.”
Talisa’s hands flew to her face. “Just shoot me now!” she exclaimed in jest.
Jericho gave her a quick hug, joining in the laughter that rang through the room. Angela glanced over her shoulder toward Clarissa, fighting her own desire to laugh out loud. Her comments were directed at her husband.
“Peter, why don’t you take Jericho to our quarters so he can shower and change,” she said, her tone just shy of commanding.
Jericho rolled his eyes as his friend laughed at him. He gave Talisa’s shoulder a squeeze before making a quick exit with the other man.
Noting Talisa’s discomfort, Angela dropped down onto the wooden chair in front of the desk, propping her chin against the back of her hands and her elbows against the tabletop. “You and Jericho have no privacy here. We must do something about that.”
The profusion of blush continued to wash over Talisa’s face. “Can we please just forget about this?” Talisa said, rolling the sleeping bag into a tight package.
“I think it’s great,” Clarissa gushed. “You two are so cute together. This is so exciting!”
“You and Jericho are meant to be together. It is written in the stars,” Angela stated matter-of-factly.
Talisa opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, the words lost somewhere between Angela’s pronouncement and Clarissa’s agreeing nod. She smiled instead.
“I need to wash up and change,” she finally said.
Angela nodded. “Clarissa and I will figure out a plan while you dress. Our doctor loves you, and you love him, and we must take full advantage of it while we can.”
For the second time Talisa sputtered like a fish out of water gasping for air. Her gaze locked with Angela’s, joy smiling in the woman’s dark eyes, then as if on cue both turned to stare out the window, watching as Jericho and Peter strolled easily across the yard.
Peter was still chuckling to himself when Jericho stepped out of the bathroom, showered, shaved and dressed. His friend stopped short as he entered the room and the two men locked eyes. Jericho could only shake his head and Peter laughed out loud.
“Leave me alone, Peter.” Jericho grinned.
Peter shook his index finger at the man. “This woman is very special to you. We can all see it. You two aren’t hiding your attraction to each other very well if that is what you wanted.”
Jericho dropped down against the well-worn sofa, taking a seat beside the man. “Would you leave me alone if I said there isn’t any attraction between us?”
Peter smiled. “If you said that then you would be lying. You are too honest a man to tell such a lie.”
“And what if I said I didn’t want to talk about her?”
“I would respect that.”
Jericho nodded, clasping his hands together in his lap.
“But I don’t think my Angela will let you off as easily,” Peter finished, giving his friend a sly grin. “I’m sure Angela will have much to say about the two of you.”
Jericho couldn’t help but laugh, knowing just how right Peter was about his wife. “So, how do I get that woman of yours to leave me and Talisa alone?”
“Marry Talisa today and have beautiful babies. That will make Angela very happy. She says it is your destiny.”
Jericho tossed his head back against the sofa, his body sinking into the thin cushions. “My destiny, huh?”
Peter shrugged, the broad grin still filling his very round face.
“Well, Talisa and I are just getting to know each other so I think a wedding is going to be a while.”
“Getting to know her is a good thing.” The conversation was interrupted as Angela entered the room. “That is a very good thing,” the woman stated, looking from one to the other.
Jericho sat back up, his spine straight. “Angela, I know—”
Angela cut him off in midsentence. “Peter, I need you to pack the tent and two sleeping bags. Clarissa is already preparing the medical supplies for your trip. Jericho, you need to go ready yourself. The boats leave Entebbe at four o’clock and you and Talisa need to be on time. There’s a lot for you guys to get done this weekend.”
Both men stared at her questioningly. Jericho stammered. “On time…? Does Talisa…? What’s going…?” He rose to his feet, his hands resting against his lean hips. “Where are we going?” Jericho finally managed to ask, his eyebrows raised in query.
Angela smiled, a broad grin spreading over her ebony face. “The Sese Islands, of course!”
Chapter 14
There was static and then the telephone line clicked rapidly in her ear, dialing the international exchanges and then her home telephone number. Nervous excitement filled Talisa’s midsection as the phone finally rang on the other end. After four rings, her mother answered, her deep voice echoing over the other end.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. It’s me!”
“Talisa! Where are you, baby?”
“I’m still in Africa. How are you? I called last week, but Dad said you’d gone to dinner with the girls.”
Mary didn’t answer.
“Mom? You still there?”
“Talisa, are you in Africa with that man?”
“What man?”
“That doctor who’s been calling here for you?”
Talisa giggled softly. “His name is Jericho, Mom, and he’s incredible. Can you believe it? All those times we missed each other and we finally meet here in Uganda of all places!”
“I’m sure that was convenient,” Mary said, her tone curt. “How stupid do you think I am, Talisa? Did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?”
Shock and confusion filtered from one end of Talisa’s body to the other, her mother’s deprecating tone flooding her with dread. “I don’t know—”
Mary screamed into the receiver. “Don’t lie to me, Talisa!”
“Mom, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“If you act like a whore, Talisa, God will see. You will reap what you sow, girl!” Mary spat, punctuating each word with venom.
Talisa could feel her body tensing, her fingers tightening around the telephone receiver. “Mom, are you feeling all right?”
“You’re the one messing up. Not me. There is nothing wrong with me.”
Talisa took a deep breath. “Mom, is Dad home?” she asked, her tone as even and as controlled as she could manage.
“You need to come home, Talisa. You need to come home now. I’m going to call that Reverend Warren and let him know about this. Yes, I am.”
“Mom, everything is going to be fine. I promise. I’ll be home very soon and things will be just fine. Okay, Mom?”
“You’re coming home?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You need to forget that man, Talisa. He’s no good for you. He’s evil, Talisa. I can feel it. The man is evil and I can’t let no evil get into my house.”
“I know, Mom. Everything is going to be okay. I promise. Can I say hello to Dad?” Talisa questioned, asking about her father for the second time.
“Hold on,” Mary answered, her demeanor suddenly calm.
By the time Herman London picked up the telephone, Talisa’s soft tears had risen to a low sob.
“Talisa, baby? What’s wrong?” the man asked, concern ringing in his words.
Talisa’s voice was soft as she sobbed into the telephone. “It’s Mom. What’s wrong with her, Dad? What is wrong with my mother?”
The car radio was playing softly as Peter guided the vehicle past the perimeter of the orphanage onto the main roadway. The man drove toward the lakeside market of Entebbe. As Angela detailed their itinerary, Jericho jotted quick notes into a pocket-sized notepad. The three were chatting easily as Talisa stared out the window, her concentration broken by thoughts of her mother and the earlier conversation between them.
Although Peter and Angela seemed
oblivious, Jericho could sense that something wasn’t quite right. He dropped a hand against her knee, squeezing the flesh gently, and when she turned to face him, he gave her a warm smile, comfort gleaming past his blue gaze. Talisa smiled back, entwining her fingers beneath his as she turned back to stare out the window, not wanting him to see her cry.
“Tonight and tomorrow you will stay in Bukasa. After that you can go to Buggala,” Angela stated, giving them both a quick glance over her shoulder as the names of the smaller islands rolled effortlessly off her tongue.
As Peter parked the car, Talisa wiped her face with the back of her hand. Angela stepped from the vehicle and headed toward the fishermen who stood at the shoreline preparing their canoes for the ride home. Nothing remained of the day’s catch and the men gathered were anxious to set out for their homesteads.
Talisa and Jericho followed behind them, standing just off to the side, as their friends negotiated a method of travel for them. Bantering back and forth in their native tongue, an agreement was quickly reached with a tall, charcoal man whose bright white smile was breathtaking. The man gestured in their direction, greeting them warmly as he guided the duo to his motorized canoe, accepting the cash Peter handed to him.
“Enjoy your time away,” Angela called out to them as the boat eased away from the shore, skipping along the bright blue water. As she and Peter stood waving their goodbyes, Jericho leaned to whisper in Talisa’s ear. “I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart, but I promise you, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
As the warmth of his breath blew like an easy breeze against her skin, Talisa wanted to believe him more than anything else she had ever wanted before.
Their guide chatted eagerly, his English as broken as Jericho’s Bantu, but the two seemed able to communicate comfortably as they made their way across the waters to Bukasa, one of eighty-four lush, green, untouched isles in the Sese Islands in the Ugandan quarter of Lake Victoria. As they reached their destination, coming ashore at the jetty where the ferry came and went twice weekly, the man pointed them in the direction of shelter and bid them goodbye.
Jericho reached for their baggage, turning to pass a canvas sack to Talisa. As his eyes met hers, he stopped in his tracks. She was beautiful, and the fact that she carried herself as if she could not see it, made her even more attractive. He stood staring for only a quick minute until the sad look that crossed her face lifted him from his trance. Dropping his gaze to the ground, Jericho tossed his backpack over his shoulder as Talisa adjusted hers comfortably against her back. Holding out his hand, Jericho waited until she took it, entwining her fingers beneath his. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her palm, then turned toward the dirt road, pulling her along beside him.
“Where are we going now?” Talisa asked, speaking for what seemed to be the first time since they’d departed on their trip.
“Agnes’s Guest House. It’s supposed to be at the top of the hill here,” Jericho answered, pointing ahead of them. Quiet filled the space between them until Jericho spoke again. “So, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, cutting his eyes in her direction.
Talisa heaved a deep sigh, but said nothing.
“Do you not want to be here, Talisa?” Jericho asked. His tone was soft, comfort rolling off his tongue. “We can go back if you’re uncomfortable with all of this. I know Angela meant well but it was quick and we really didn’t talk about it first. I’d understand if you didn’t want to be here.”
Talisa forced a smile, shaking her head from side to side. “That’s not it at all, Jericho. I want to be here with you. I just…” Talisa hesitated.
“You just what, Talisa?” Jericho asked, the two of them stopping in their tracks.
His gaze was questioning, determined to make whatever was wrong, right again. Talisa could feel herself falling headfirst into the promises of his stare. As Talisa repeated the conversations she’d had with her mother, and then her father, Jericho listened intently. As Talisa finished, he pulled her into his arms and gently kissed away the tears that had dripped against her cheeks.
“Do you think you should go home?” Jericho asked.
Talisa shook her head. “My father told me to stay. He said there’s nothing I can do and since I only have a few more weeks that I should just stay.”
“What can I do?”
“I’m just scared for her, Jericho. One minute she’s ranting like a wild woman and the next minute she’s the sweetest person in the world. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
“Well, your father may have some answers by the time you return. It’s good that he was able to convince her to go see a doctor.”
“I guess.”
The two resumed their walk, easing slowly up the dirt road.
“I’m sorry,” Talisa said. “I didn’t mean to let my mood spoil this for us.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jericho replied, squeezing her hand. “We’ll call your father as soon as we get back to see what the doctor said. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
As they reached the top of the hill, Agnes’s Guest House, the only place to stay on the small island, came into view. Once a prosperous display of wealth, the house sat surrounded by a stunning garden that looked north out across the vast lake. What was once a grand estate had long since disappeared, a ransacked shell of a building with no electricity or running water remaining. Presidents Idi Amin and Obote’s troops had destroyed the luxurious homestead back in the seventies when they’d taken everything of value, including the generator. The home was now dark and damp, yet filled to capacity with guests. Jericho and Talisa were greeted warmly at the entrance by Agnes, the owner, and directed to an empty corner of the courtyard. As Jericho pitched the small tent in the gardens, sunbirds flitted among the bushes and white-faced vervet monkeys chattered in the trees. The sun was setting to the west, the last shimmer of light filtering off the water’s surface. Talisa pulled two sandwiches and a bag of fruit from her backpack, offering half to Jericho.
“I’m beginning to wonder what Angela had in store for us,” Jericho said as he took a bite out of a deep red apple.
Talisa smiled. “It’s actually quite beautiful,” she noted, taking in the last views of the flora that blossomed around them.
As they finished their meal, Jericho adjusted their possessions and the sleeping bags inside the tent. Searching inside his knapsack, he pulled a wide-tooth comb and paddle brush from an interior pocket. “Can you braid?” he asked, looking over his shoulder toward Talisa.
“Excuse me?”
“Hair. Can you braid hair?”
The woman chuckled softly, nodding her head. “Yes, I can.”
“Would you mind cornrowing my hair, please? I need to get it out of the way,” Jericho asked softly, running his fingers through the thick length of black strands.
Talisa nodded, extending her hand to reach for the comb and brush. A large boulder sitting in the garden space made for a makeshift stool, and Talisa gestured for Jericho to come sit on the ground between her open legs.
As Jericho made himself comfortable, draping his arms over her legs, both were acutely aware of the emotions sweeping between them. With his shoulders pressing against the insides of her thighs, Talisa was overcome by the waves of heat generated from his body to hers. As Talisa gently brushed his hair down the length of his back, she tried to ignore his fingers which were skating easily along the back of her calves, gently caressing and kneading her flesh through her cotton slacks. As she slowly parted his hair into segments to be braided, she pretended not to notice the growing intensity in his strokes, each pass sliding higher to the back of her knees. By the time she was finished with the third braid, she refused to acknowledge the warm palms that had pushed under her pant leg to bear down on her bare flesh.
With his chin leaning forward against his chest and his eyes closed tight, Jericho was enchanted by the gentleness of her touch, the light scratching of the comb soothing against his scalp
. Even the slight pulls as she plaited the neat braids tight to his skull were lost to the sensation of his hands against her skin, and her hands against him. He fought the sudden urge to turn his face and lightly bite the inside of her thigh. With the last cornrow, Talisa twisted the length of ends down the center of his back, capturing the strands into one large braid held together by a rubber band. As her fingertips gently grazed the back of his neck, neither of them said anything, lost in the heat of each other’s touch.
Talisa broke the moment, giving his torso a quick squeeze between her knees. “That should last you a while,” she said softly, passing him back his comb and brush.
Jericho nodded, thanking her for her help. “I appreciate this,” he said, still not moving away from the warmth between her thighs.
“So, why do you keep your hair so long?” she asked, willing conversation to stall the rise of wanting that was quivering for attention in the center of her womanhood.
“No special reason.” Jericho shrugged, pausing for a brief moment as he reflected on her question. “No, take that back. I haven’t cut it because Shannon hated it long. I think not cutting my hair was my way of dealing with that hurt in my life.”
Talisa nodded slowly. She gently stroked the sides of his face with her fingers, running her fingertips against the edge of his hairline. Jericho leaned his head back against her, looking up into her face. “If you want me to cut it, I will,” he said, his gaze dancing against hers.
Talisa smiled down at him, leaning to kiss his lips gently. “Cut it because you want to, Jericho. I want you to do what feels right for you,” she answered, pressing her mouth to his one more time.
Jericho lingered in the kiss, allowing the emotion of it to sweep through his body. Energy pulsed from his heart out into his limbs, willing life into his manhood. As a full erection suddenly pressed hard against his leg, he couldn’t help but imagine the length of himself nurtured between her thighs. A rustle of noise from campers on the other side of the rock wall reminded him of where they were and he reluctantly pulled himself up and away from her.
In the Light of Love Page 11