Stacy’s face tightened, as if she took offense. “Dr. Grant, my son was not the ringleader. He did something foolish, yes, but I know this wasn’t his idea.”
Imani said nothing, instead observing the woman’s body language. The tension in her stance was noticeable.
Stacy spoke again. “Anyway, no, Trent hasn’t given any names because he thinks he’s being a good friend by not ‘snitching.’ I’ve tried to explain to him how silly that is, but at his age, he’s hardheaded.”
“I see.” Looking across at the woman, Imani sensed her discomfort.
Stacy swallowed again, then spoke. “I came to apologize personally for Trent’s foolish actions.”
Imani laced her fingertips together. “I appreciate that, Ms. Cates. And while I accept your apology, I’d really like to hear it from your son.”
Stacy nodded, looked away. “I understand that, and that’s definitely going to happen. Please remember that Trent is covering for somebody. He’s not the main one.”
“That may be so, but he did confess. Hopefully, he’ll tell the truth about who else was involved, or the other parties will come forward.”
“I’m hopeful about that, Doctor.” She wrung her hands. “I don’t want to take up much more of your time. I just came by to apologize.”
Imani stood from her desk, knowing her time until her next appointment was running short. “Again, I appreciate you doing that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient coming in. Good-bye, Ms. Cates.”
Taking the hint, Stacy pulled open the office door and started to leave. She stopped, turned toward Imani. “Look, my Trent is a good boy. Smart, too. I don’t know what possessed him to act this way.” She paused, the sadness showing plainly on her face. “Please. Just know that this isn’t like him.”
Imani nodded.
Stacy turned and walked out.
Imani stood in her office alone for a few minutes, trying to get her bearings before she saw Mrs. Neilson. Her feelings on the situation with Trent were mixed. While she understood his mother’s fierce urge to protect him, she also felt he should face some kind of punishment for his actions. She shook her head; she didn’t have time to think about it now.
Instead, she got Mrs. Neilson’s patient file, tucked it under her arm, and walked down the hall to exam room two.
The rest of the day continued in a blur of appointments, paperwork, and the constant ringing of the office telephone. By the time Imani shut the overhead lights off, it was nearly six thirty, well past the practice’s five o’clock closing time. Darkness had begun to fall.
Maya, closing up her station behind reception, pulled on her fleece jacket and matching hat. “Finally. The nurses left an hour ago.”
“I just had a few loose ends to tie up. Now I want to get over to the cemetery before it gets too dark out there.” Imani thought of the silk arrangement she’d purchased the previous day to place on her father’s grave. It was made up of carnations, roses, and poppies in varying shades of blue, which had been his favorite color.
Maya offered her a wistful smile. “I got Uncle Richard flowers, too. Would you mind taking it over there?” Maya pulled a small wreath of blue blooms out from beneath the reception desk.
Imani took it, shaking her head. “You know, you could just come with me.”
Maya recoiled. “You know I don’t do graveyards. Too depressing. If I go with you, we’ll both end up sitting on the grass in tears.”
Imani didn’t press the issue with her cousin. Maya had been that way their whole life; she’d never attended any graveside event or visited a graveyard, no matter whom the deceased was.
“Are you going to be okay out there by yourself?”
Imani nodded. “I’ll be fine. I never stay too long.”
Maya surprised her then by grabbing her and pulling her in for a tight hug. Imani shifted the wreath to one hand to keep it from being crushed, but accepted the hug gratefully.
When they separated, they got the rest of their things and left. Once the place was locked up and secured, Imani and Maya went to their separate vehicles and parted ways.
The drive to the cemetery lasted less than ten minutes. While Imani didn’t enjoy working late, at least it meant she didn’t have to deal with the height of the city’s rush hour as she made her way to pay her respects.
Once she’d parked her car along the street bordering the cemetery, she got out. She noted the relative quiet as she carried the two floral arrangements through the gate and up the rise, toward the grave. There were the distant sounds of traffic and horns honking, but not much else to impinge on the solitude. She could hear her footsteps crunching over the dry autumn grass beneath her boots.
Arriving at the top of the hill, she knelt next to her father’s headstone. With gentle, loving hands, she placed the two arrangements atop the grave, arranging them in a way she found attractive.
“Happy birthday, Daddy.” She said the words aloud, as she often did when she visited the grave. “One’s from me and the other’s from Maya.”
She leaned on the granite marker, letting the side of her forehead rest on the cool surface. Her fingertips played over the engraved letters of her father’s name and the dates that represented the beginning and end of his life. The old, familiar pain rose again. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, and she closed them. Rather than release the pent-up sob, she inhaled deeply and hummed the tune of the old hymn “Because He Lives.” The song had been his favorite.
“Imani.” A deep, silky voice called her name, cutting through her pain to reach her ears.
She opened her eyes, raised her gaze to see the face of a tall figure standing before her. The scent of his cologne, rich and masculine, touched her nostrils.
He squatted next to her, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Looking into her eyes, he asked, “Imani, are you okay?” His voice conveyed much caring and concern.
Through the tears, she managed to ask, “What are you doing here, Xavier?”
* * *
Xavier fought the urge to pull Imani into his arms, not wanting to press her. Finding her in tears this way made his chest constrict; it physically hurt him to see her weep.
Her watery eyes searched his face, waiting. She wanted an answer to the question she’d asked, he realized.
So he gave it. “I’m here for the same reason you are. I brought flowers for Mr. Grant.” He gestured to the small bundle of violets in his hand.
She blinked a few times, her eyes wide. “You remembered my father’s birthday?”
“Of course I did. I’ve been here a couple of times over the years. Seeing you again at the wedding brought it back to the front of my mind.”
She looked down at his offering now, as if seeing it for the first time. “That’s really sweet, Xavier.”
He nodded. Then he placed his flowers atop the grave.
She watched him in solemn silence; he could feel her eyes on him.
Reaching into the inner pocket of his sport coat, he extracted a handkerchief.
She reached for it, but he held it back.
Instead of handing her the linen handkerchief, he dried the tears clinging to her face. He used as gentle a touch as her delicate skin and fragile mood demanded. By the time he was done, she seemed to have calmed somewhat.
“Thank you.” Her words were so soft he might not have heard her if they weren’t in such a peaceful place.
“You’re welcome.” He tucked the handkerchief away again, still longing to hold her. He would not do it, though, unless she asked for his comfort. She mourned her father even after all this time, and he respected that. He would never want her to think he was coming on to her or pressuring her in any way, especially at a time and place like this.
After a few silent moments, she got to her feet, brushing away the bits of soil and brown grass clinging to
her slacks.
He followed her lead, standing to his full height.
She raised her chin and looked into his eyes. “I could use a cup of tea. Would you join me?”
Shocked but pleased by her invitation, he nodded. “Yes. Just name the place.”
She started walking down the hill, away from the grave. “Do you know Cathy’s Coffee, right there on Martin Street?”
“Yeah, I know the place. It’s only about five minutes from here.” He shortened his usually large stride in order to keep pace with her as they strolled toward the curb where their vehicles were parked.
“Good.” She sniffled, drew her coat closer around her body.
He waited near his SUV until she’d climbed into her sedan. Getting into his truck, he started the engine and swung out of his parking space.
Within twenty minutes, the two of them were tucked into an overstuffed sofa in the rear of Cathy’s Coffee.
Imani sipped from a ceramic mug of peppermint tea, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. “Cathy’s has the best peppermint tea in town. Even when I make it at home, it’s never as good.”
Drinking from his own mug of hot, spiced cider, he smiled. He enjoyed the feeling of having her body close to his. “Cider’s not bad, either.” He took another deep draw, relishing the sweetness of apples and the spicy kick of cinnamon that tickled his taste buds.
She scooted closer to him on the cushion, until the sides of their thighs touched. Her expression earnest, she said, “Thank you for coming here with me, Xavier. I know you probably have other things you need to be doing.”
Sensing that she wouldn’t mind, he draped his free arm loosely around her shoulder. “That’s true, but there isn’t anything else I’d rather be doing.” And there wasn’t. His campaign strategizing work would still be there tomorrow morning. Right now, she needed someone, and he felt honored to be able to be there for her.
“I’m still surprised that you remember Dad’s birthday.”
He couldn’t help smiling at his memories of Richard Grant. “Mr. Grant was a good man, and probably the closest friend my dad ever had. I really looked up to him.”
Her face brightened, and for the first time that night, a hint of a smile showed on her beautiful face. “Really? I remember that you three used to go fishing, but I never knew you thought of him so fondly.”
“What you don’t realize is that fishing is the ultimate in male bonding. I learned a lot on those trips, and because my dad was, well, my dad, I got plenty of advice from Richard.”
She looked genuinely interested. “I didn’t know any of this. I guess fishing is to men what shopping and manicures are to women.”
He shrugged. “I guess. Your father had a big impact on me during my teenage years. I would talk to him when I felt weird about going to my own dad. I’ll always be grateful to Richard.”
Her head dropped to the side, resting on his shoulder. “I appreciate you telling me that.”
“No problem. You may be an only child, but he helped raise a lot of the young men in the neighborhood. He’s one of the folks who inspired me to do the work I do with the kids now.”
Her smile widened. “Wow, Xavier. I’m really glad to hear that, and I think he would be very proud.”
It relieved him that she didn’t bring up the break-in or say anything negative about his center kids. Despite what Trent and Peter had done, he didn’t want her to view all of them through a set of tired stereotypes of inner city youth.
“You’re a good guy, Xavier. I really can’t thank you enough for coming here with me and for sharing with me like you just did.” She clasped his hand and gave it a brief squeeze.
The warmth of her touch radiated throughout his body. “You know how I feel about you, Imani. I’m always going to be here for you.”
She tensed a bit at the mention of his feelings; he could feel it. Still, she didn’t pull away from him, so maybe that meant he was making progress with her. Or maybe she just needed to be held right now, due to her vulnerable state. Either way, he would continue to hold her for as long as she allowed it.
The sounds of Dinah Washington’s rich alto emanated from the sound system in the coffee shop. Other than the two baristas working the counter, Xavier and Imani were the only people in the place. Dinah’s impassioned crooning, along with the dim lighting and the quiet, semiprivate atmosphere, began to have an effect on him.
He shifted around, so he could look into her eyes.
To his surprise, her soulful, dark eyes were there, waiting.
For a long moment, their gazes locked and held. He set his mug aside, then let the tips of his fingers graze her jawline.
She shivered at his touch but didn’t back away. Instead, she eased closer to him, her head tilting ever so slightly upward.
He bent and let his lips brush against hers. At first, he kept it brief, in case she didn’t want to take it there.
She remained receptive after the first quick brush of his lips, so he repeated it once more, then again.
She reached up, her hand coming to rest against the back of his neck, and pulled him in. At that point, he knew she wanted the same thing he did: to share a kiss worthy of the affection flowing between them.
He gathered her in and pressed his lips to hers, with full force this time. Her lips parted to accept his searching tongue, and he felt his whole body tingle when she released a soft moan into his mouth.
She let her hand fall from his neck and shifted a bit. Feeling her pulling away, he followed her cue and broke the seal of their lips.
When their gazes met, he could see the flush of heat coloring her cheeks. Her eyes were pensive, unreadable.
He could sense that she’d become uncomfortable, or at least unsure of what she was doing. “I’ve kept you out late enough. Will you be all right getting home, or should I follow you?”
Seeming relieved, she shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll send you a text when I get in.”
He stood. “Sounds good. Look, if you need something or you just want to talk, give me a call.”
She got up, setting the mug on the short table in front of the sofa. Slinging the shoulder strap of her purse on, she gave him an easy grin. “Thanks, Xavier. For everything.”
He touched his brow in mock salute. “At your service.”
She hurried toward the coffee shop door and tossed a hasty good-bye over her shoulder.
He waved and watched her disappear into the cool night.
* * *
Monday morning, an arrangement of white roses arrived at Grant Dermatology. It was followed by a second arrangement just after lunch. They continued to arrive daily, and by that Thursday, Imani had to admit she was taken by his persistence. Xavier was proving harder and harder to resist as the days went by. Add that to the fact that Maya was picking up on Imani’s growing feelings for him, and it was almost too much to handle. Even now she was smiling to herself, though she knew it would be a bad idea to get in deeper with Xavier. She would never forgive herself if her past caused him any harm.
As Maya entered her office with yet another bouquet, she jumped up from behind her desk. “Maya, I told you we can’t accept any more of these flowers. We’re running out of places to put them.” Even as she complained, a smile curved her lips.
Maya shook her head. “You know we can’t just send them back. Look at them. Aren’t they beautiful?” She admired the eighteen snow-white blooms and greenery in the crystal vase before setting them on the desk.
Imani sighed. “Yes, but this is a medical practice, not a greenhouse.” The first few vases were now decorating the waiting area, but she had precious little room in her personal office. Xavier’s gesture, while incredibly sweet, had left her with enough roses to build a parade float. She absentmindedly scratched her head with the tip of her pen, wondering where she could put this one.
/> “Look at you, over there, grinning.” Maya pointed her index finger at her with mock accusation. “Just admit you like it. Every girl loves to get flowers.”
Imani rolled her eyes, but the smile remained on her face. “Yes, of course I like the sentiment, and the flowers are beautiful. But if he keeps sending them, there won’t be any room left for us.” She chuckled as she imagined herself unlocking the door of the practice only to be taken out by a literal avalanche of snowy-white blooms.
“If you just give in to the man, he’d probably stop sending them.” Maya’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“I don’t want to get into a relationship with him. I keep saying that, but no one is listening.” She laid her forehead on her desk in defeat. “Not you, not Mom, and least of all Xavier.”
“That’s because the rest of us know y’all are meant to be together.”
She looked up for a moment to say, “Maya, get out of my office.” She intended to sound stern, but a look at her cousin’s Cheshire-cat expression made her smile instead.
“I will, as soon as you admit that you have feelings for Xavier.”
Imani pursed her lips. “Maya, don’t start with me.”
Maya folded her arms over her chest and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. “I’m not going anywhere until you say it out loud. Tell the truth and shame the devil, girl.”
Letting her head drop back, Imani blew out a breath. “Okay, okay, I admit it. I want Xavier. I want him bad.”
“Hallelujah!” Maya threw her hands up. “She’s seen the light, Lord. Now why don’t you stop running from the man and let him catch you? I mean, look at what he did for you the other day, bringing the kids over to help with cleanup. And he must have spent about a grand on flowers this week alone.”
A wistful smile spread over Imani’s face. Her cousin was right. “I know, I know. One day, when the time is right, I promise I’ll stop running. But for right now, I’ve gotta keep my sneakers laced up.” She pointed at the corridor. “Now quit pestering me and go do some work, girl!”
With a giggle, her cousin did as she asked but left the flowers for her to deal with. Imani let her forehead rest on the coolness of the glass topping her desk again and sighed.
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