Ruth walked over to him with a sultry smile. “I’ve already started the tub and lit the candles and there’s a bottle of that nonalcoholic spumante on ice. If you’ll be so kind as to remove every item of your clothing and come into the bathroom with me, I’ll show you how we can spend that time,” she said seductively.
“That’s just one of the things I love about you, honey. You can read my mind.”
***
Julian was surprised to see his sister at Maya’s door with the ever-cheerful Kasey wriggling in her arms. “We’re seeking shelter,” she announced.
“Why aren’t you staying at the loft? I thought Ruth had two bedrooms,” he said.
“She does have two bedrooms and a pullout couch. But let me ask you something, would you want to be in the next room when Daddy and Ruth are umm, getting reacquainted?” She waited for his reaction and it wasn’t long in coming.
“Oh, hell no. I almost busted in on them at home,” he confided, telling her about the morning he’d accidentally retrieved Ruth’s bra from Bojangles.
They both started laughing, although Julian added that it made him proud. “I’m glad to know I have something to look forward to. Daddy and Ruth seem to really enjoy being in love, if you get my drift.”
Paris beamed. “Isn’t it wonderful? I just don’t want to share that joy. The loft just isn’t big enough for all of us. Now when she moves to New Orleans, it’ll be different, that house is big enough for three simultaneous orgies.”
Julian pretended to be appalled. “Coco, where did you learn to talk like that?”
“From you,” she retorted. “Now where’s my niece?” She looked around and was told that the little lady was upstairs getting ready for bed.
“Maybe you can help her, she doesn’t seem to think I’m qualified to give her a bath,” he added wryly.
Paris and Julian went upstairs with Kasey scampering ahead and Corey was happy to see her new auntie and her auntie’s adorable dog. They had fallen in love at first sight when they met at the loft and now he was happily licking her toes.
“How about I give you a nice bubbly bath and I’ll tell you all about how your grandpa used to bathe me, okay?”
“Okay, Aunt Paris. Can Kasey come, too?”
“Absolutely not,” Paris said firmly. “Kasey really likes water and he’s been known to jump into bathtubs. He’ll be right here when you get done.”
Julian went downstairs and figured out how to operate Maya’s stereo in about two seconds. He found a CD that had been one of their favorites when they were married and put it in. It was a kind of slow torture, but he needed to hear the soothing sounds. They both enjoyed all kinds of music, including old-school smooth jazz and in a moment, the beautiful “You Are My Starship” by Norman Connors filled the room and he stretched out on the sofa to listen, transported to another time and place.
He went back to the day he kissed her, a rainy afternoon when they shared a picnic in her living room.
***
After their first kiss, Julian knew Maya was a virgin. There was something innocently sweet about the way she turned her lips to his and the soft sigh of surprise that floated out of her hot, tender mouth when their tongues met for the first time that let him know she was untouched. He’d kissed her with all the gentleness he could muster, wanting to make it beautiful for her. He had put his hands on her shoulders and he could feel her trembling ever so slightly, like a flower rustling in a spring wind. It made him even gentler as he pulled her into his arms and held her close, so close that he could feel her heart pounding. Her lips were so sweet, so soft and delicate, he was afraid he might hurt her, but she’d kissed him back with a yearning desire that set him on fire.
When he was able to speak again, he whispered to her, “You’ve never been with a man, have you Maya?”
He would have expected her to be embarrassed by his frank question, but she didn’t seem to be. “No, I haven’t. I’m the only virgin in Tulane medical school, as near as I can figure,” she admitted. “Probably in the whole university. That makes me pretty lame, I guess.”
Julian had kissed her again, drinking in her sweetness until he was dizzy from the sensations her lips and tongue created in his body. “No, baby, that’s a good thing. It’s a wonderful thing. It means that you have enough self-respect and confidence to wait for the right man,” he told her. She had arched her body into his and kissed him back. She might have been inexperienced but her instincts were better than any other woman he’d ever been with. “I’m the right man, Maya. I’m the only man for you,” he’d whispered.
The song ended and he sat up with a harsh laugh, stung by his own arrogance. But he’d meant every word he’d said. He was the only man for Maya; the one who could appreciate her intellect and encourage her ambition; the one who could love her the way she needed to be loved and introduce her to passion in the right way. He was the one who could see her beauty and sensuality, the one who could show her what it meant to be a woman with a man who loved her beyond reason. And he was also the man she’d left without a reason, the one she’d deceived for five painfully long years. He was roused from his brooding by the sound of Paris’s voice from upstairs.
“Julian, there’s a little girl up here who’s waiting for her daddy to tell her good-night,” she called.
He got off the sofa at once and went to the stairs. Her daddy. Fantastic as that still seemed, he and Maya had created the incredible child who was waiting for him on the stair landing. Her face was wreathed in smiles and she was wearing pink-and-white summer pajamas with little Hello Kittys all over them. She held up her arms and he swung her up to carry her into the bedroom. She smelled like the special children’s bubble bath in which Paris had bathed her, and she gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Are you ready for bed, sugar baby?”
She shook her head vigorously. “You have to braid my hair first or Mommy won’t be able to comb it. I sleep like a wildcat, she says. And then you have to read me a story.” Her face suddenly looked doubtful. “Can daddies braid hair?”
Julian and Paris looked at each other and laughed. He carried Corey into the bedroom as he assured her that he could. “This daddy can because I used to braid your Aunt Paris’s hair when she was little. Where’s your comb and brush?”
He sat her on his lap and gently took down the loose topknot Paris had arranged for her bath. He brushed it carefully and combed it through, then arranged it in two pigtails with pink ponytail holders. “There. You’re all done, what do you think?”
She slid off his lap and went to inspect herself in the mirror on her closet door. “I look very nice. You did a good job, Daddy. Now we have to say our prayers and you have to read to me,” she instructed him. She selected a book from the shelf, and then knelt next to the bed, looking at Julian expectantly. “You have to get down here, too, Daddy so Jesus can hear you real good.”
He did so at once, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat. He listened as Corey thanked God for her beautiful day, and for her mommy and daddy and her grandma and grandpa, for her auntie Paris and Kasey and for all her uncles. She added in the names of her boyfriend Brandon, her preschool teacher, her Sunday school teacher, the poor children all over the world, the old people in the hospitals and all the animals. Julian was beginning to wonder if the prayer would ever end when she finally said “Amen.” She allowed him to tuck her into bed and then held up her book.
“Now my story, Daddy.”
She had chosen her favorite book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and Julian gamely read it to her with all kinds of expression in his voice. She smiled sleepily when he was done.
“You did that good, Daddy. Almost as good as Mommy. Can you cook breakfast?”
“You’ll find out in the morning, sugar baby. Sleep well, Corey.” He kissed her forehead and sat on the bed watching her sleep until the hot dampness in his eyes threatened to overflow. It was beyond belief that he and Maya had made this innocent miracle and eve
n more unbelievable that he was just meeting her today. When Maya got home he had a lot of questions for her and the answers had better be good ones.
Chapter 19
Julian was finally able to tear himself away from his sleeping child and went down the stairs to find his sister. She was waiting in the kitchen, sitting at the table reading the scrapbooks and eating one of Maya’s cookies. She smiled at Julian as she brushed the crumbs from her fingertips.
“I forgot how well Maya can cook. I only ate one, though, I’ve got to fit in my wedding dress or Perry will beat my behind,” she said, smoothing her hands down her waist. “I’m so glad he offered to design my dress for me that I couldn’t let him down.”
“Aww, Coco, quit trippin’. You look beautiful just the way you are. Please don’t turn into one of those women who count every calorie and carb that goes into their mouths. No one wants a bone but a dog,” he mumbled.
Kasey barked his agreement, which made them both laugh. Julian walked over to the kitchen sink and splashed cold water on his face, drying it with paper towels from the dispenser under the cupboard. He threw the wadded up towels into the trash can, and then sat down heavily at the table across from his sister. He was touched to see a glass of ice water and two Tylenol waiting for him. Paris knew from experience that severe stress led right to a massive headache. She watched him swallow the pills while she folded her hands like a little girl. Then she waded in with both feet, which he was expecting.
“Well, big brother, I never asked you this before because you made it plain that it wasn’t my business. But I don’t care at this point because now your business is our business, I mean, it affects the whole family. So exactly what happened with you and Maya?” she asked bluntly.
He gave her a twisted grimace that barely passed for a smile. “How long have you been rehearsing that one, Coco?” He drained the water and went to the refrigerator for more before he sat down again and looked her full in the face. “I can’t answer that because I have no freakin’ idea what made her go off like that. I thought we were happy, Paris, I honestly did. I was happy, I can tell you that much. Everything I did, I did for her and she was the same way.
“We talked to each other, we listened to each other, we respected each other and God knows I supported her in everything she did. I’d help her study, I’d wait up for her on clinic nights and rub her feet when she came home. Maybe I babied her too much, but that wasn’t my intention. I was just crazy about her and I wanted her to know it. I wanted her to understand that above all else I loved her and I was there for her no matter what.”
Paris’s face showed her concern for her brother. “But Julian, she was happy. I knew Maya before she met you and she was just as sweet as she could be, but there was always something a little reserved about her. She was really quiet, almost repressed. She was an only child and I always had the impression that she’d been raised in a really strict environment. She was always so proper and precise, almost robotic,” Paris recalled. “Well compared to me and Chastain, that is. We were like proper Quarter hellions next to Maya.” Chastain was Paris’s best friend and partner in crime back in New Orleans and it was true, they bore as much resemblance to the ladylike Maya as weeds to a prize-winning rosebush.
“But after you and Maya hooked up, she changed. She was more relaxed, more confident, and she was certainly happier. She laughed all the time and she even started cracking jokes, the raunchy ones she’d hear at the hospital. And there is no doubt in my mind that she loved you. She thought you were the best man she’d ever met and she was so proud to be with you! Sometimes when she and Chastain and I would be hanging out she’d get this dreamy look on her face and go off into her own little world and if you asked her what was on her mind she’d smile and say ‘my Julian.’ That’s how she referred to you; ‘my Julian.’ Now how does that kind of love turn sour? Something had to have happened to make her leave you the way she did.”
Julian slammed his hand down on the table, startling Kasey, who looked at him sternly and gave a little bark. “Paris, I’m trying to tell you, I have no idea what went wrong. She suddenly came up with the harebrained idea that I was having an affair. I thought she was kidding at first, and then I realized she was serious. She kept asking me about it, accusing me of it, really, and I got tired of arguing about it. We had a couple of really big arguments, and the last one turned really ugly. I had to go out of town that week to take a deposition and when I got back on Friday with a big plant and a gold bracelet to apologize, she was gone.”
He stopped talking and began rolling the glass in his palms until his grip tightened on it so hard Paris feared it would shatter and cut his hand. She reached over to take it from him, and he realized what he was doing.
“Paris, you have no idea what went through my mind. I thought she’d been kidnapped until I realized that most of her things were gone. I had actually called the police to file a missing person report and then I found the letter she left me. It really wasn’t a letter so much as a note saying she couldn’t take it anymore, that she loved me too much to stand by while I destroyed our marriage. Can you believe it? After all we’d been to each other, after all the love we shared, she gets this nutbox notion in her head and just takes off for who knows where,” he said angrily.
His voice was reaching the range of decibels familiar to anyone who knew the Deveraux men and Paris had to remind him there was a sleeping child in the house. He lowered his voice at once but continued talking.
“I tried to call her at her parents’ house and they claimed she wasn’t there. I tried everything I knew to get in touch with her and then I got the divorce papers in the mail and that was it. If she was willing to trash everything we had over some bull—well, over some stupid, idiotic rumors and lies, so be it.” His fury fairly leaped out of his eyes, tempered with a hurt look that Paris was all too familiar with. “What really hurts is that she knew she was pregnant when she left. She left Louisiana carrying my baby and she never said a word to me. How could she be that selfish, Paris? How could any woman be that cruel?”
Paris raised her hands in supplication.
“Wait a minute, Julian. Maya didn’t know she was carrying Corey until after the divorce was final. She was back at home in Connecticut applying for internships and she started getting sicker and sicker, which she attributed to nerves. She was three months pregnant before she knew she was having your baby.”
Julian looked surprised to hear that, but not mollified in the least. “She still should have contacted me. For her to have kept this to herself for all these years, it was just wrong, Paris, and there’s no way in hell I could ever forgive her for it.”
Paris sighed and looked again at the two scrapbooks, so lovingly prepared with such amazing detail.
“None of this adds up, Julian. Where did she get the idea you were cheating on her?”
Julian started to bellow his answer and Paris pointed to the ceiling to remind him once again they weren’t alone in the house. With great effort he forced himself to speak quietly.
“I have no freakin’ idea where she got that from. I never looked at another woman after I met her. She was convinced, Coco, she was completely fixated on the idea. If I was five minutes late coming home, if I had to go out of town for a day, if I went to get some beignets on Saturday morning, she was convinced I was seeing this nonexistent mistress. And the worst part is she was convinced I was having an affair with Monica, of all people.”
Paris’s eyes widened in shock. “Monica Montclair? Did you explain that Monica was like the last person on earth you’d be sleeping with? I mean, y’all were always close friends, but an affair?”
“Coco, I tried and tried to explain to her. I even offered to have Monica come over and explain to her that we were nothing but good friends. She went wild. That was the night we had the worst argument I’ve ever had with another human being. It was awful. We said some terrible things to each other. Then I went to Nashville the next day and when I came back
two days later, she was gone.”
“Well, Julian, I have to ask you why you didn’t go after her. You could have found her easily enough. You could have hired somebody like Titus and he’d have tracked her down in a day.” Her fiance, Titus Argonne, owned a private investigations firm that could and did handle any kind of case from missing children to international industrial espionage.
“I didn’t want to find her,” he said bleakly. “If she hated me that damn much, fine, let her go with God; that was my attitude. If she despised me so much and just turned her back on me for no good reason, I was better off without her. After several weeks of almost continual inebriation and self-pity, that was the conclusion to which I came,” he said with a bitter laugh.
Paris turned the scrapbooks around so they faced him. With one hand on each one she looked at her brother and said, “Julian, I don’t know what made her act the way she did. I don’t know why she got the idea that you were cheating on her and why she felt so desperate that she had to run out on you and file for divorce, but I can tell you one thing—she didn’t hate you. If she hated you, she wouldn’t have given birth to Corey. Having a baby and trying to complete an internship and residency is too hard for me to even imagine and she could have taken the easy way out,” Paris said in a quiet, penetrating voice. “Maybe not an abortion, but she could given hrt up for adoption.”
“And she named her after us, which is again, not a sign of hatred. But most of all, Julian, take another look at these scrapbooks. If she hated you so much, she would have never taken the time and trouble to put these together so painstakingly. These were made with love, Julian, a lot of it. And not just love for Corey. Every single page shows how much she cares for you.”
For a brief moment, Julian’s face softened and he reached for the purple book with his name on it. “Nothing about this adds up, Coco. But before I leave here, I’m getting some answers and for her sake they’d better be good ones.”
Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9) Page 19