Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9)

by Melanie Schuster

  “Okay, okay. You have my word.”

  Maya could hear the sounds of people entering the loft. She strained to hear Ruth’s gracious welcome to Julian and she could even hear the softer greeting she had for his father. In a few minutes, Ruth came into the bedroom and sat down on her king-sized panel bed with a sigh.

  “Paris will be in to get you in just a minute or so, and Julian, that is my Julian, will come in here with Corey and me.” She smiled sympathetically when she saw the sheer panic on Maya’s face. “Breathe, sweetie. It’ll be fine, I promise you. You look beautiful, so try to relax,” she counseled.

  While Corey showed her outfit off to Ruth, Maya took a few deep cleansing breaths, blowing them out slowly. She was an adult, she was smart and resourceful, and she’d raised a charming and lovable child while completing a difficult internship and residency. Yes, she’d screwed up, but as far as she knew, there was no death penalty for mistakes. It was her turn to look in the mirror and she wasn’t terribly reassured by what she saw. Her hair was in its usual bob cut, wavy and held back on one side with a purple comb. She, too, was wearing a sleeveless dress, but hers was a chic teal linen, one that buttoned down in the front. It had a flared skirt that ended just below her knee and with it she wore casual thong sandals with multicolored beads in shades of teal. She looked chic but if you looked closer there was nothing in her eyes but trepidation. She turned around suddenly and was about to tell Ruth to stop it, that she couldn’t go through with it.

  They had come up with this idea because everything else from a phone call to an e-mail to a fax just seemed too impersonal, after all the time that had passed. And knowing Julian the way they did, there was no way someone could tell him he had a child and expect him to wait around for weeks, days or even hours before he saw his offspring. His father and sister agreed this was the best way, but it felt like an ambush to Maya. It was wrong, it was unfair to spring it on him like this, and she had to stop it. But before she could open her mouth, the bedroom door opened and Paris held out her hand.

  Like a robot, she walked over to Paris and took the hand she was extending, unaware that her hand was trembling. She could hear the deep, booming voice of her former father-in-law and when she heard Julian’s voice answer him, her knees buckled slightly. All too quickly the two women went down the short hallway that opened into the living area. Maya thanked God that his back was to them; she didn’t think she’d be able to handle it otherwise. Paris cleared her throat softly and spoke to him.

  “Julian, there’s someone here you haven’t seen in a long time,” she said gently.

  He turned around and there was no sound in the cavernous room at all, none whatsoever. Everything seemed frozen, like someone had touched the pause button on a DVD. It was hard to say who was the most surprised when he finally reacted. He simply walked across the room and took her hand from his sister’s grasp. Holding both of her hands in his own, he stared down at her.

  “Maya,” he whispered, and touched his lips to hers. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closely. “It’s been too long, Maya.”

  The relief in the room was palpable. It was as though a collective sigh rippled through the loft. The plan might have actually worked if it hadn’t been for one unexpected thing. As Julian was leading Maya to the sofa to sit down, a new voice was heard.

  “Is it my turn now? Do I get to meet my daddy now? I can’t wait anymore,” Corey announced as she appeared in the living area with Ruth on her heels.

  Julian’s knees seemed to give way as he collapsed onto the sofa. His face was paper-white as he stared at the child who’d just dashed into the room. Corey seemed to sense that something was amiss and turned shy, putting her index finger to the corner of her mouth. Julian rubbed his hand over his face and spoke in a quiet voice that was full of emotion. He held out his arms and said, “Yes, it is your turn, darling. Come here, Daddy can’t wait anymore, either.”

  Chapter 17

  As long as she lived, Maya would never forget the look on Julian’s face when he saw his daughter for the first time. Or the absolute elation on Corey’s when he held out his arms to her. She ran to him and put her little arms around his neck and hugged him tightly while he picked her up and held her as though he couldn’t let go. He might have continued to hold her forever but her muffled voice protested. “I can’t breathe, Daddy!”

  He reluctantly released her and allowed her feet to touch the floor. She stood between his legs with a huge smile on her face and one hand on each of his knees. He returned the smile while his eyes glistened with a suspicious moisture. Maya spoke softly, saying, “Tell your daddy your name, sweetheart.”

  Corey went up and down on her toes as she answered. “My name is Juliana Corinna Deveraux and I’m four,” she said proudly, holding up four fingers.

  Julian’s throat worked furiously before he could respond. “Well, I think you should get a kiss for each year. There’s one, two, three and four,” he said softly, kissing her forehead, both cheeks and her chin.

  “I’ll be five soon,” Corey informed him, holding out her arms for another kiss, which Julian gladly placed on her nose.

  Maya’s own throat was constricted with unshed tears and she was about to rise from the sofa to leave them alone, but Julian’s strong hand clamped around her wrist to detain her.

  “You’re my real daddy and I’m your little girl,” Corey said with a beaming smile. “I like you, you’re just like Mommy said.” She climbed into his lap without asking permission and leaned into the crook of his arm, smiling up at him.

  Julian shot Maya a look that she couldn’t interpret. “What did she say about me, sugar?”

  “She said you were very nice and very tall. And handsome, too. She said you were real handsome and that you would come and see me and take me home with you for a visit. And she said I would meet my grandpa, too.”

  Julian’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “That’s your grandpa right there. Would you like to meet him?”

  “Yes, I would. He’s handsome, too, isn’t he?” Corey said approvingly.

  Maya went to get up again, so Mac could sit down, but Julian stopped her once again, his hand easily spanning her narrow wrist. Mac came over and took Corey’s little hand and kissed the back of it.

  “Do you have a hug for me, too? I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, angel cake.”

  Corey held up her arms and Mac picked her up, holding her close and giving her a kiss on each cheek. “You’re a beautiful little girl.”

  “Thank you,” she said politely. “You’re very pretty, too. Not as pretty as my daddy, but you look nice. You’re going to marry my grandma Ruth, aren’t you?”

  “I sure am,” Mac assured her. He carried her over to the big chair and sat down with her in his lap. Kasey was tired of being ignored and jumped up on the chair with them. He settled down for a nice head scratch while Mac and Corey got to know each other. Mac was asking her silly questions to make her laugh and Paris and Ruth sat at the dining room table wiping tears from their eyes. Maya had yet to say a word, simply because she didn’t know what to say. Julian didn’t seem to have any such problem, however. His hand moved from her wrist to clasp her damp, trembling hand tightly while he stared at her. In a low voice he asked her the question she’d been dreading for days.

  “How could you do this to us, Maya? Did you hate me that much?” he said so quietly that no one else could hear his agonized words.

  “Julian, I...I did what I thought I had to do. There wasn’t any other way,” she replied in an equally low voice.

  “Maya, that’s a load of crap and you know it. We have a lot to talk about and the sooner we get started, the better.” He looked at Corey, who was talking to him.

  “Daddy, you have to come to our house. You have to see my bedroom and our plants, and my pictures. And I have a present for you, too, but I’m not supposed to tell you that,” she said, covering her mouth. Her eyes bright with excitement, she moved her hand and gave him a smile
so much like Paris’s it was eerie. “When are you going to come see our house, Daddy?”

  Julian gave Maya another unreadable look and said, “How about right now, sugar?” He slowly let go of Maya’s hand and abruptly asked where her car keys were.

  “I’m driving.”

  “Look, Julian, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Maya said with an edge to her voice. “We can get together tomorrow and get everything ironed out, but I don’t want...”

  “Maya, right now I don’t give a damn what you want or don’t want. You don’t want to argue with me right now, trust me. Now, where are your car keys?”

  After the three of them left the loft, Ruth, Paris and Mac looked at each other with relieved expressions. “Well, at least no blood was shed,” Paris said, looking around the loft for evidence of carnage. “Julian was a perfect gentleman, which is a great relief.”

  Ruth tsked and shook her head. “Julian is in shock, sweetie. He’s just going through the motions right now. Give him a little while and he’ll be able to express himself fully.”

  Mac was once again impressed with his fiancee’s perception where his children were concerned. “I’m afraid she’s right, Cupcake. In a little while he’s going to regain his senses and I don’t think poor Maya will be seeing this gentlemanly side of him. Quite the opposite, in fact,” he said with a frown.

  “Then we’d better be ready to rescue her. We’ll give them two hours, and then we’d better go over there so he doesn’t scare the baby to death,” Ruth said with brisk practicality. She put her arms around Mac’s waist and smiled up at him. “So, Grandpa, what do you think of your granddaughter? Is she a peach or what?”

  Mac’s eyes grew unnaturally bright. “She’s amazing. Maya has raised a beautiful child, a smart and sweet one. She’s so much like Paris I can’t believe it,” he said, his voice filled with love.

  “Daddy, I was nothing like Corey! I was the worst little thug in Louisiana and you know it! I wasn’t even close to being that adorable,” Paris protested.

  Mac gave her a steady and serious look. “If that’s what you believe, I didn’t do a very good job as a father because that child is your very image, Paris Corinna. You were every bit as beautiful as she is and just as charming. And you still are.”

  Paris’s mouth fell open and she stared at her father without being able to say a word. He held out his free arm, the one that wasn’t wrapped around Ruth, to her and she went to him for a hug. “Daddy, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she murmured.

  He kissed her on the top of her head. “Synchronize your watches, we don’t want to leave them alone too long. Poor Maya looks like she’s had as much as she can take today.”

  ***

  The drive to Maya’s house actually didn’t take that long. She lived in a gentrified area that wasn’t too far from Ruth. To Maya the short trip seemed to last an eternity. It could have been fifteen days instead of the fifteen real minutes. She sat so close to the door, the handle was imprinted on her hip, something that seemed to amuse Julian.

  “You don’t have to stick to the door like that. You look like I’m about to attack you or something,” he said with a mild sneer.

  “How do I know what you’re going to do? You seem pretty adamant about getting your own way right now,” she answered back and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  The transformation in him was instant and anything but reassuring; his eyes, normally so kind and full of laughter, narrowed into icy pinpoints of anger. “You’re absolutely correct about that, Maya. I do intend to get my own way but that doesn’t include hurting you. Quit cowering over there like a cornered rat before you scare the girl.”

  Luckily, Corey wasn’t paying attention to her parents’ conversation. She was too busy conducting a travelogue from her back seat perch in her child safety seat. “Look Daddy, that’s where we buy bread, and we get vegetables and fruit from Mr. Cho on the corner. That’s where we get our clothes dry-cleaned, and that’s where I take ballet,” she informed him.

  “Do you like ballet, sugar?” he asked as he looked at her animated face in the rearview mirror.

  “It’s okay,” she answered indifferently. “I want to take tae kwon do, but Mommy said no. Tae kwon do is funner though. Brandon takes it and it’s lots funner than ballet.”

  “Not funner, honey. It’s more fun,” Maya said automatically.

  “If it’s more fun why can’t I take it instead of ballet?” Corey asked reasonably.

  Julian was visibly struggling not to laugh. “Who’s Brandon, sugar?”

  “My boyfriend,” she said casually. “Here’s our house, Daddy!”

  Now it was Maya who was choking back laughter at the look on Julian’s face when Corey referred to her playmate as her boyfriend. She went back to her previous somber state when Julian parked the car and came around to open her door, holding out his hand to her as though they were on a date. He got Corey out of her car seat and the three of them entered the townhouse looking like a typical American family coming home from an outing. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but their look was completely deceiving. When they reached the front door, Maya’s hands were shaking so hard Julian had to take the key from her and insert it into the lock. Corey took over from that point, taking her father’s hand and leading him around the spacious two-story town house. Maya allowed them to take the tour alone, she needed some time to regroup and gather her thoughts.

  She stood in the living room, wiping her hands down the front of her linen dress. She was pleased with their surroundings, although she wasn’t particularly houseproud. She wanted Corey to grow up with nice things, but she also wanted her to be able to play freely and not have to worry about breaking things or spilling things. There was a big comfortable sofa with a matching love seat and armchair, all in navy blue. The throw pillows were brightly patterned African prints, and there were similar throws on the love seat and sofa. The floors were hardwood, but there was a big colorful area rug that tied all the colors together and added flair to the simply furnished space. The thing that made the room so eye-catching was the array of healthy green plants that abounded in all the windows and on tables around the room, and also the colorful artwork on the walls. They were just prints and posters of art Maya found appealing, but the way she’d had them framed made them look rich and expensive.

  After saying a quick prayer for guidance, Maya went into the kitchen. She needed to do something with her hands to keep busy. She opened the refrigerator and got out a bag of lemons. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, she thought with a short laugh that bordered on the hysterical. She washed her hands well, and then washed the fruit one at a time, her mind going in circles like a caged gerbil on a wheel. Seeing Julian had a powerful effect on her. How could it not, he was the first and only man she’d ever loved. He still looked the same, if anything he looked better. Tall and dashing with cafe au lait skin, beautiful wavy hair and the lean, saturnine good looks he’d inherited from his father;

  Julian was quite a man. The tiny scar over his left eye was almost invisible, unless, like Maya, one knew it was there. He resembled his father, with his heavy moustache and lean, broad-shouldered physique, but his eyes were his own, large and clear with long curly lashes and a way of looking directly into her soul.

  Maya sliced the lemons in half and used a reamer to extract the juice and seeds. She strained the liquid into a glass pitcher and added spring water and sugar, stirring until the sugar was dissolved. She cut the last lemon into thin circles and added them to the pitcher with ice from the automatic dispenser built into the refrigerator door. After she did that, she hesitated for a moment, and then reached into the refrigerator for a container of raspberries, which she rinsed quickly and patted dry. She put them on a plate and mashed them into a pulp, reserving about half of them, and then stirred the pulp into to the pitcher. She put ice in two tall glasses and one old-fashioned glass, before getting a bottle of Perrier water from the door
of the refrigerator. A slight tremor ran through her body as she remembered the first time she’d made raspberry lemonade for Julian.

  ***

  It was a summer afternoon and Julian was taking her for a drive into the country and a picnic. He was going to bring the entire meal, but she insisted on making a contribution. She’d made big fat oatmeal cookies with walnuts and dried cherries and just a touch of cinnamon. And she’d also made raspberry lemonade, something her favorite aunt had taught her to make when she was very small. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate and it rained all afternoon. Maya could still remember the feeling of disappointment she’d experienced. It was just their second date and she was looking forward to spending more time with him. The first date had gone so well she could finally admit she was enthralled with the handsome young lawyer and she wanted nothing more than to see him again.

  She had been standing at the window frowning at the steady rain, oblivious to the fact that it was warm and fragrant and refreshing. All it meant to her was that her date had to be cancelled. When the knock came at her door it startled her so that she jumped. She was so caught up in her dislike of the rain she’d lost track of time. When she opened her door she was both thrilled and surprised to see Julian standing there with a big wicker basket in one hand and a thriving green fern in the other.

  “Julian, what are you doing here?”

  He handed her the fern and used his handkerchief to blot away the raindrops from his forehead. “We have a date, if I remember correctly. May I come in?”

  Maya felt her cheeks grow hot from embarrassment. She’d been so busy sulking about the weather she’d forgotten her manners completely. “Of course, come in, Julian. Yes, we did have a date, but as you can see,” she waved at the open windows “it’s been called on account of rain,” she said with a wistful sigh.