by H. H. Fowler
“Take all the time you need,” Hunter said, “because a lot of planning needs to go into this sort of thing. Just know that I celebrate with you and Sasha and I’m practically over the moon that something like this has happened for you two. You both deserve it.” A brief pause ensued as Hunter shifted into a different gear. “And speaking about planning…it looks like you and Sasha won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon, anyway.”
“Oh really? With that big smile on your face I could tell I was being kept out of the loop about something.”
“You really don’t know?”
“Know what?” Drake chuckled. “Just tell me.”
“Kevin has asked me to marry him.” Hunter could barely maintain her excitement and did not notice the wilt in Drake’s expression. “And I said yes…you’re going to be my brother-in-law. How crazy is that?”
Too crazy, Drake wanted to say. He wasn’t quite sure how long Hunter had been dating his brother. Could be three months, maybe less, but knowing how picky Kevin was when it came down to choosing women, asking one to marry him – especially one of the Caucasian persuasion, it was a big deal. Should he be upfront with Hunter and ask her to reconsider moving so quickly into such a serious commitment? Because Drake knew marriage was the last thing on his brother’s mind. And what was even more disturbing was the fact that Kevin hadn’t called to tell him that he’d proposed to Hunter. He and Kevin shared basically every secret. Something wasn’t adding up and Drake made a mental note to call Kevin as soon as he got the opportunity.
“I did not know things were that serious between you two,” he finally said to Hunter.
“I assumed Sasha was keeping you abreast of what was going on.”
“Nope…but I can’t fault her, though. We had our own kind of crazy going on and she probably forgot to mention it. But in any event, I am relieved that my brother is settling down with a woman like you. You’re well-grounded and one of the best cooks I’ve known on this side of town.”
Hunter laughed. “You better not let Sasha hear you say that.”
“Well, of course not. But Sasha would agree.”
Hunter’s laugh gradually morphed into a pensive stare. “I do love your brother – very much,” she said. “But I’ve never told it to him before, even though he’s said it to me on several occasions. I usually hang up the phone and regret it. Does that make me a hypocrite?”
“A hypocrite is someone who pretends,” Drake said. “Someone who preaches one thing and does another. If you’re having a challenge letting Kevin know how you truly feel, I don’t equate that with hypocrisy. I just think you are being careful with your emotions.” Drake saw his chance to inject some of his earlier reservations. “Listen, Hunter, there is nothing wrong with deciding to wait until you’re certain.”
Hunter exhaled. “I’ve asked God for a sign – to confirm if Kevin is the right man for me. Do you think He will answer me?”
“Of course He will. He is concerned about every detail of our lives. Proverbs 16:3 says, ‘Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust Him, and He will help you’.”
“Wow,” Hunter exclaimed. “That is so comforting to know.”
Drake smiled at her reaction. “I sense that God is wooing you with His goodness.”
“You might be on to something, Pastor Drake, because I do feel a transformation of some sort. But don’t ask me to explain it.”
Both of them laughed.
“But seriously,” Hunter said, “keep me in your prayers. I’m going to Tampa in the morning to spend the weekend with Kevin. I’m hoping we can have a heart to heart talk about this marriage thing.”
“I love my brother dearly and I truly want him – the both of you – to be happy,” Drake said. “But God will give you a sign, just as you have requested. You deserve the best and I’m quite sure Sasha would approve of what I’m saying.”
With a smile, Hunter embraced the warmth she felt from those words, which she interpreted to mean that Drake and Sasha would be there to support her and Kevin – no matter the outcome of their relationship. “When I see your mother again,” she said. “I must thank her for raising such excellent men. You are all exceptional in your own way.”
“Thank you…Mother Beckford would be thrilled to know how highly you think of her.”
Hunter began to move toward her front door with Drake following closely behind her. However, he stopped short of going inside and then eased down to sit on one of the steps. His heart was overflowing with gratitude. The only desire he had at that moment was to drop his head toward his knees and give God his undivided attention.
Thank you, heavenly Father, for Your unmerited favor upon my life. I can’t thank You enough…I can’t repay You for everything You’ve done for me. The only thing I can do is dedicate the rest of my life to serving You, delighting myself in Your holy ordinances. Keep me from pride and from being uplifted in my heart; help me to love You more than I love Your blessings…
Chapter Ten
The Smithson Hotel – 9:11 p.m.
After a long day of meetings and rehearsals, Armando was relieved to finally have a few hours to himself, which he decided to spend swooshing his feet around in the pool. With his hectic schedule, he barely had time to relax and enjoy the simpler things in life. Like taking quiet walks on the beach or sitting on his porch to watch the sun disappear behind the horizon. Trinidad and Tobago were nothing but work, work, and more work. If he wasn’t in the studio recording his latest album, he was touring the world and in between he was tolerating Annalise and her emotional tirades. And those tirades reminded Armando of a conversation he’d had with Ms. Hive earlier that day about his wife.
“I’m warning you now, Armando, that woman you married is going to be the end of you and your music career one day. She’s devious and too attached to you. When do you ever have time for yourself, the way that Annalise stays hot on your trail?”
“Ms. Hive, you are one of the most honorable persons I know,” Armando said, “but I can’t allow you to talk about my wife that way.”
“Did she tell you that I called to talk with you yesterday?”
“Why did you call?”
“She didn’t tell you, did she? This is exactly what I’m talking about. She answers your phone and refuses to allow anyone to speak to you – always making up lame excuses that you’re too busy – or that we’re disrupting her time with you. She canceled one of the hotel rooms that I’d had your office to reserve under my name. Annalise then rebooked a different room under her name – ensuring that the room she booked would be on a different floor from your entourage. And up to this point, I’m not sure how she was able to check into the room yesterday when she was with you at your mother’s house. You should have a word with your administrative office and find out what is going on…”
“Ms. Hive…”
“Let me finish… And on top of that, she rebukes me for calling her by her first name. She’s Mrs. Beckford now – not Annalise. Hmmph, and with her only married to you for three weeks. I was a part of your life for nine solid years – way before she ever came trotting along. Respect is earned, not demanded.”
The conversation ended with Ms. Hive walking away in a huff. Armando didn’t push the issue because he knew Ms. Hive was right about Annalise, especially about the part where Annalise had become too attached to him. She hadn’t any idea that he’d snuck out of the room and Armando was certain that she would have a fit if she woke to find that he’d left alone. But like Ms. Hive had said, he needed time for himself – to clear his head and to prepare for the upcoming concert.
However, Annalise’s behavior had little to do with trust, but was the result of an unhealthy level of dysfunction that had developed because of the last ordeal she’d gone through with her ex-lover – who happened to be the thirty-year-old, rebellious daughter of Trinidad’s Prime Minister. A lesbian relationship that had rocked the integrity of the island. The last eighteen months with Annalise had been a whirlwind of ups and
downs and Armando was inclined to believe that if he hadn’t been by Annalise’s side she would have probably gotten killed or would have committed suicide.
So why had he married Annalise? It was easy to say it was because he’d somehow gotten her pregnant the one time he’d had sex with her – to prove that she could enjoy sex with a man, much more than she ever could with a woman. However, it was much more complicated than that. Besides everything else, Annalise had a low self-esteem problem, combined with a desperate need to be loved and to feel protected. But if Armando was honest with himself, he would reveal that he did not love Annalise – well, not in the romantic way that a husband should love his wife. Their relationship was hard to explain, but easy to misinterpret.
He eased up from his elbows and cast his gaze to the wet bar. Suddenly, he felt an urge for a stiff drink. There wasn’t much of a crowd at this time of night. Six, maybe seven twenty-somethings were gathered around in a circle, laughing deliriously at something that made Armando smile. He greeted them as he passed by en route to the wet bar. There was a woman present, sipping slowly on a raspberry martini. She was so far away in thought that she didn’t notice when Armando slipped on the stool next to her.
“Good evening,” Armando greeted, as he turned his attention to the bartender.
“What are you having?” the bartender asked.
“Straight vodka tonic on the rocks.”
The woman next to Armando suddenly stiffened, pushed her drink aside and then slid off the stool with her eyes downcast. She walked so fast that it got Armando’s attention. He hadn’t intended to study her for as long as he did, but there was something unusual about that walk…short, swift strides that reminded him of a woman he hadn’t seen in twenty years. And if the walk didn’t give her away, it was her unexplained reaction to his presence. She wouldn’t run away like that if she didn’t recognize me. Could it really be her?
Armando got up at once and followed the woman – surprised at his own behavior. He did not want to frighten her more than he already had, but he also didn’t want to lose her. So he kept a safe distance. But all of that changed when the woman turned around to inspect her surroundings. Armando got a good shot of her face and he was certain by now that that woman was Rena Henderson – the first love of his life. She was heading to the elevator and he was not going to let her close those metallic doors without him getting in.
“Ma’am, please hold the door!”
Rena dared not look in the direction of the voice, only seeing Armando’s hand when he jammed it between the closing doors at the last second. He stepped inside, moving his lean body in next to her. He smelt like peppermint and aftershave – a light, intoxicating mixture that got right under Rena’s nose.
“You are Rena Henderson, aren’t you?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Don’t you recognize me? Armando Beckford – Kevin and Drake’s brother.”
Of course Rena recognized him and she also recognized his strong Trinidadian accent and how fine he looked up close with those dreadlocks and that infectious smile the Beckford men were known for. Rena needed not to put on a fake smile, because she was truly happy to see him. But how should she respond to a man whom she’d purposely avoided all these years? The embarrassment must be plastered all over her face by now.
“Please tell me that you remember me,” Armando prompted. “Maybe it’s the hair that is throwing you off and this crazy accent I struggled not to pick up while living in Trinidad. But we spent a lot of time together when we were teens…we met under a bridge during one of my singing gigs…”
Rena almost felt sorry for how desperately Armando wanted her to remember him. Where was the hatred and the coldness she would have expected? Instead, Armando was as easygoing and as warm as she remembered him being twenty years ago. To prevent him from humiliating himself any further, Rena widened her eyes in mock surprise.
“Of course I remember you,” she said. “But you were not as handsome back then as you are now.”
“You think I’m handsome? I don’t get that too often.”
You have to be kidding me…Rena squashed the urge to smile. “The elevator is not moving. What floor are you going to or is it that you’re stalking me?”
Armando twisted his lips into a smile. “I remember you always used to pretend to be so tough on the outside; some things never change, you’re still pretending. But beneath that toughness, I can see that you are thrilled to see me…as I am to see you. It’s been twenty years, Rena. Don’t I at least get a hug?”
“What floor?” she prompted, her fingers hovering near the elevator buttons.
“Fifth.”
“You playing with me?”
“Seriously…my room is on the fifth floor.”
Rena’s room was on the fifth floor too, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She pushed in the transparent button, causing the elevator to jerk upwards. The silence that ensued only lasted for about seven seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
“So, how did things work out for you?” Armando asked as soon as the elevator ‘binged’ open on the fifth floor. “Did you end up in Paris like you’d planned?”
Rena walked ahead of Armando out of the elevator but veered in the opposite direction of her room. She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t impressed by how well Armando remembered certain particulars about her aspirations.
“You certainly recall a lot about that time,” she said. “People don’t normally remember those kinds of details, especially in their prepubescent years.”
“Rightly so. But there are some things that one never forgets and it doesn’t matter how long it has been.”
The look that Armando gave Rena sent waves of electricity moonwalking from her head to her big toe. Now she was not one who blushed easily, but she was certain that her taut cheeks gave her away.
“I did eventually move to Paris,” she said. “I’m what you would call an independent film editor and I do a lot of freelance jobs for Armonica Films, also for other companies to whom I’ve been recommended. I love the benefits of working from home, but someday, I hope to eventually start my own company and hire people to work for me.”
“Good for you, Rena. I’m happy that you are fulfilling your dreams. Back then, things wasn’t as easy for you. So why are you here in Devin’s Cay?”
They brought their strides to a stop within several feet of Armando’s room. Rena stared at Armando, encountering that same penetrating gaze he’d given her just before he pulled her into that succulent kiss all those years ago. “My father died,” she said point blank. “And I’m here to deal with some of the legal stuff.”
“Oh…right…” Armando said lamentably. “Drake mentioned it to me yesterday. Please forgive me for not remembering and you have my sincerest condolences.”
I guess there are some things you do forget. “Thanks, but I’m beyond okay. I just want to get it over with and head back to Paris.”
“It’s funny, but Drake has also mentioned that…” Armando paused as it dawned on him that the millions of dollars that Drake had inherited came from Rena’s father’s estate. He did not know how well Rena was dealing with that reality and he did not want to chance saying something stupid or insensitive. He smiled, despite Rena’s suspicious expression. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I am just so happy to see you. Can I get a hug now, before I go back to my room?”
Rena shrugged noncommittally, knowing deep down she wanted to hug Armando, probably more than he wished to hug her. “I don’t see why not…it’s not likely we’ll see each other again anytime soon.”
“We’ll see,” Armando playfully challenged. “What makes you think that I will let you get away this time?” He took Rena by the hand and calculatedly pressed her body against his. A sensual move designed to make Rena regret giving up the future she could have had with him. Sure, he was a few years younger than her, but she never gave them a chance. His palate for older women was just who he was and he wasn�
��t about to change that – even for his own mother.
“Armando Beckford! What are you doing out here with this woman?”
The inflection of that voice was so strong and so unexpected that it caused Rena to push away from Armando as if she’d been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. Her gaze connected with a pregnant woman, the drunkenness of sleep still very much alive in her eyes. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, twitching every other second. Armando hadn’t even flinched, except to place an arm around Annalise’s waist, attempting to conceal her hands. He already saw that she was about to have an emotional breakdown.
“Annalise, this is Rena Henderson – the woman I’ve told you about. I had no idea I would run into her tonight, or that she was in Devin’s Cay. Isn’t this a crazy coincidence?”
“You had no business leaving me alone,” Annalise lashed out. She’d seen Rena already, coming out of 5020, but she didn’t know who she was until now. Annalise could have puked, knowing how close their rooms were. The realization caused her to raise her voice even louder at her husband. “Suppose something would have happened to me? You must always be aware that I’m carrying your child and I am at a stage where I can barely do anything for myself. Look at my feet. They are swollen and could burst at any minute.”
“I was only gone for a few hours,” Armando explained. “Besides, you were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you –”
Annalise swung her gaze at a stunned Rena. “Did he tell you that he was married and was expecting a baby girl? I don’t want to be crude, because you seem like a nice enough person. But right now I need you to leave so that I can have a private conversation with my husband.”
Rena didn’t need to be told twice. The woman looked like she’d just escaped from the wacky ward and Rena didn’t want any part of that. She propelled her short strides in the direction of the elevator. She could sense Armando’s eyes burning a hole through her back. But she did not look back and she doubted she ever would for the rest of her life.