Dream Keeper

by Gail McFarland

  Confusion was deep and swirling in the boxer’s brown eyes. “But ma’am, I do love her. I bought her this to show her how much.” He pulled a jeweler’s box from his pocket and flipped it open. Glittering against dark velvet, the diamond shone like a small star and Rissa sighed.

  Rising, she walked around her chair to stand behind her new client. “Jimmy, you’re going to have to do more than just show her the pretty ring. You’re going to have to do music and candlelight, and get down on one knee. If she’s old-fashioned, you’re going to have to go see her father and ask for her hand in marriage. You’re going to have to share finances and life insurance, and make a home for her if you want a wife. You’re going to have to promise this girl a lifetime of love, for better or for worse, even if it ticks your mama off—and then you’re going to have to be a man of your word. You’re going to have to commit all that you are to her and make her see it.”

  “Aww, that’s lame.”

  Rissa’s nut brown eyes narrowed and the corner of her mouth ticked. “You’ve been your mother’s boy all your life. You want to be this woman’s man, you’re going to have to man up.”

  “So lame.”

  He jumped when Rissa swatted the back of his head. “That’s why she won’t marry you, boy.”

  “Ow.” Jimmy slid a slow hand over the smarting spot her palm left behind. He looked at her, started to speak, then thought better of it.

  Seating herself, Rissa looked into his face. “Now Jimmy, I’ve gotten you the contract you wanted because that’s my job. I’ve gotten you the endorsements you wanted—hell, baby, you’re going to be an action figure. And now you want a wife. I’ve told you what to do, it’ll work, and you’d better treat her right because I am not going to do a press cleanup for you. Clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And your mama? Buy her something nice for Christmas. You can afford it. Then introduce her new daughter-in-law as the woman you love and intend to spend your life with.”

  The boxer looked queasy. “She’s not going to like it…” Rissa’s lips pushed together, a charming pout, but James read seriousness in the look she gave him. “Maybe I could just…”

  “Boy, don’t make me slap you again.” Rissa leaned forward with narrowed eyes and Jimmy reflexively sat a little farther back in his chair. “Man up. Don’t debate it, just do it. Tell your mother where your life is headed, because once you get to the part about the pretty grandbabies, I can assure you, she’ll get over it.”

  “Pretty babies,” he muttered, then brightened. “They will be pretty, won’t they? Like Sierra and maybe a little like Mom. She’d like that.”

  Rissa turned palms to the sky and looked wise.

  “Merry Christmas, Miz Traylor. And thanks.” Standing, he dug deep into the pocket of his jacket and slid a small red ribboned box across the small table. “This is for you. Thanks for, you know, everything.” He turned and hurried from her office.

  Shaking her head, she watched him leave with the ring in his other pocket. “He’s going to be fine,” she promised herself.

  Lost in thought, Rissa almost missed the ring of her cellphone. Shifting professional gears, she put James Clarence out of her thoughts. Flipping the phone open, she barely got her name out.

  “Merry Christmas, the test is back,” Joyce Ashton fairly sang. “Back and positive.”

  “Positive? Really?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  Clapping a hand over her phone, Rissa squeezed her eyes shut and blew out hard. Reaching for composure, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “I’m really pregnant.”

  “Yep. I want to talk to you about it, but it’s a definite positive.”

  “Holy…” Without thinking, Rissa clicked the call off. “Finally,” she breathed. Folding the phone between her palms, she squinted, thinking. “Now, who can I tell?”

  Forgetting her earlier list, her thoughts raced, checking and discarding. Call my mother, and I might as well call the Journal-Constitution. Could tell Yvette, but she’s not in yet and knowing her, she wouldn’t be able to keep it to herself either; she’d be on the phone to Dench in a New York minute.

  Connie and Jeannette? Anxious fingers tapped the phone. They’re nurses and they have had my back right from the very first fertility test. I know they’ll be excited for Dench and me. They’ve always been great, even from the first time they reached out to Marlea in Grady Hospital’s Emergency Room after her accident. They’re a part of our lives now, but as much as I love them, they’re friends, not family. I want to share this with my family. I could tell AJ, though…but he would knock Marlea over, running to Dench, and I want to tell Dench myself—in person, not over the phone.

  “But Marlea…” Now, there’s a thought. Goodness knows, she can keep a secret. Humph, I would run out of fingers and toes if I tried to count the things she’s kept her mouth shut about just since I’ve known her. Besides, she loves me. I’m the sister she never had.

  Rissa flipped the phone open and hit speed-dial.

  “Hello?”

  Rissa congratulated herself; this had to be fate. Marlea had picked up the phone and answered on the first ring. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean, what am I doing?” Marlea screwed the lid onto the small pink sippy cup and passed it to Mrs. Baldwin, who in turn passed it into Nia’s eager little hands. “I’m trying to get breakfast into my children, and then…hold on.”

  “Apple, please.” Jabari swung his feet and watched Marlea juggle the phone, his apple, and a paring knife. When Mrs. Baldwin moved to collect the apple and the knife from his mother, the little boy grinned. “I like apple in my oatmeal,” he informed the housekeeper as his mother made good her escape.

  Easing her hip onto a high stool at the granite counter, Marlea moved the phone to her other ear. “Now, I can talk. What’s going on?”

  “I need to talk, but not on the phone. Can you get away? I don’t have any other appointments this morning, and I’ll meet you wherever you say. Just make it somewhere nice, okay?”

  “Rissa, it’s not even ten in the morning on Christmas Eve, and my two little hooligans are up and in full effect.” Marlea paused when her children began to shout greetings at the sound of their adored aunt’s name. “They’re saying good morning, Merry Christmas, and…something special in Nia-speak. Oh, it’s ‘love you,’ I think. Anyway, what’s up?”

  “I already told you that I couldn’t tell you over the phone, and it’s important. Really important. Mrs. Baldwin is there, she’ll watch the kids. How soon can we meet and where?”

  Aware of the housekeeper listening, Marlea tucked stray hairs back into her ponytail and lowered her voice. “I need to change, but give me an hour. I’ll meet you at Starbucks around the corner from your office.”

  Rissa sucked her teeth. “You most certainly will not! I said somewhere nice.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, but since it’s you, how about Arcadia? I think that it qualifies as a nice, by your terms, beautiful, restaurant, with good food and great service. They open early.”

  “Arcadia’s good. Eleven-thirty?”

  Marlea agreed, dropping the phone when she bent to pick up her free-roaming toddler.

  The phone clicked in her ear, and if anyone had asked, Rissa would have sworn that she felt some of the pressure of secrecy rise from her shoulders. Pocketing her phone, she walked around her desk to gaze out of her broad window. She was only vaguely aware of the hand she slipped across the flatness of her belly. “Well, baby,” she whispered, “it won’t be long now.”

  * * *

  The woman in the slate gray suit and kente shawl looked irritable and the tight line of her mouth made Rissa lay the spoon carefully on the china saucer and fold her hands into her lap. She offered a small smile of apology. Wonder if it would make a difference if I told her that I was tapping the spoon because I was nervous. If I told her it was because I’m pregnant? The woman gave Rissa a final evil glance before turning ba
ck to her companion.

  “Well, maybe not but dang, I didn’t even realize I was doing it until she looked at me like that,” Rissa muttered into her delicately curved teacup.

  “Talking to yourself, just like your brother,” Marlea said, making Rissa jump. “I’m going to have to watch Nia and Jabari.” She shook her head and sat across from her sister-in-law.

  “You weren’t here. You don’t know…”

  “Whatever.” Marlea waved a dismissive hand as she jammed her gloves into her coat pocket and pulled the scarf from her neck. Unbuttoning her coat, she flipped it over the back of her seat and looked at Rissa. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Have some coffee first, catch your breath and relax.”

  “Relax? Now, that’s a word I don’t think I’ve ever heard from you.” Marlea accepted the menu from the waitress and squinted across the table. “Who are you, and what did you do with Rissa?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Rissa sipped tea before smiling up at the waitress. “She’d like coffee, I’d like another pot of tea, and we’ll both have the Cobb salad, please. We’ll decide on dessert later.” She turned her attention to the woman across from her. “You look good, for a woman in a hurry.”

  “Which is a minor miracle, considering I had to sneak past a toddler to get here. Thank goodness our tree was trimmed weeks ago, because the kids are so excited, I don’t know how we could ever manage to do it now.” Marlea fingered the soft collar of her blue sweater, a gift from Rissa. The woman might be crazy, but she did have good taste. “What’s up with the madonna act? Why are you so serene, all of a sudden?” The waitress left the table and Marlea narrowed her eyes. “The pod people got to you, didn’t they?”

  “Don’t talk crazy.” Rissa sipped again.

  “What’s really in that tea?” Marlea leaned across the table to inspect the small teapot. Lifting the lid, she sniffed, then turned the tags on the teabags. “And since when do you drink herbal tea?”

  “Since I found out I was pregnant.”

  “Since you…what?” Suddenly frozen, Marlea’s eyes rose and locked on Rissa’s.

  “Just this morning,” Rissa said. “Nine weeks.”

  Marlea fumbled the glass of water the waitress set in front of her. Eyes still on Rissa, she finally found her mouth and drank deeply. When the glass was empty, she set it on the table and stared. “After all this time?”

  And all those tests and false alarms.

  “Can you believe that finally your kids are going to have a cousin? Maybe even the first of many?”

  “Have you told Dench yet?”

  “No, I have not yet told my husband,” Rissa said carefully, even as his name made her grin like a fool. Dench: Big hands, big feet, long limbs, sheets of muscle, warm lips, and a heartbeat like music. “Not yet. I’m thinking that this will make the best possible Christmas present for him.” She hugged herself, almost feeling the heat and warmth of him course through her.

  “And you.”

  “And me,” she agreed. “Dench has always wanted a family, growing up the way he did, just him and his Aunt Linda.” She stopped and looked at Marlea. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I know,” Marlea said. Losing parents and being raised by their aunts was something Marlea and Dench shared. Marlea had lost both parents almost before birth. Dench had been left behind first by his father and then his mother, and his aunt had never been able to tell him any more about them before her death; but she’d always loved him and he’d always known that. “I know exactly what you mean, no harm, no foul.”

  “I want him to have a family, Marlea. I want it for him as much as he wants it for himself. Maybe more.”

  “Definitely more.”

  Rissa’s fingers framed her plate and she sat looking down at it for a moment. “Nobody ever told me that it would be this hard, getting pregnant, you know? I thought I would be like you, find Mr. Right, have a beautiful wedding, a sexy honeymoon, and a gorgeous baby nine months later. Besides, I’m black. Black women are fertile, everybody knows that. They don’t have trouble getting pregnant, right? Unless they’re me.”

  “Aw, Rissa…”

  Rissa shrugged, a wry smile on her lips. “I have a new client and he came to me with a problem today. His girlfriend is pregnant. Just like that, and it was a problem because neither of them was sure of what to do next. And would you believe that even though I know that in the same circumstances, Dench and I would never have that problem, I was jealous—just a little? And I was jealous because there was a baby in the equation.” She shook her head.

  “Aw, Rissa…” Marlea reached for her hand and settled for linking her fingers with Rissa’s.

  “No, I’m over it now. Really, I’m okay, it’s just that I always dreamed of having children of my own, of having my babies growing up with a lot of love, the way AJ and I did. After you married AJ and got pregnant, I was thrilled. I married Dench and couldn’t stop dreaming of all the vacations and stuff my kids would share with yours and then when I couldn’t…didn’t…” She almost choked when the hurt ambushed her. “But it’s okay, because now…”

  “Now we’ve got to plan a baby shower, and you haven’t even told him yet. Maybe we should cancel the tree trimming tonight.” Marlea lifted her fork and pushed at her salad. Looking up, she tried a smile.

  “And have us face Christmas morning alone with a big old naked tree? No, thank you. We’ll see you at seven tonight. Bring the babies.”

  “I can’t get over your not telling him yet. I mean, I understand your wanting to tell him face-to-face, but you know that you of all people can’t keep a secret, Rissa, especially not a secret like this. When are you going to tell Dench?”

  “I was thinking that I could tell him Christmas morning—kind of a gift, you know?”

  “Uh-huh, yes. I can see that happening.” Marlea’s eyes shifted to the ceiling and she snorted laughter. “You keeping a secret, especially one this big? And overnight, too? Bet you can’t do it.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Rissa leaned toward her sister-in-law. “How much you want to lose?”

  “Invest, you mean? Let me see.” Fork on her plate, Marlea snorted again and reached for her purse. “I’ve got a fifty, and here’s another. That’s a hundred dollars I’m betting that Dench won’t make it through your front door tonight before you tell him, and definitely that you can’t hold out until Christmas morning. And I’ll even trust you to tell me the truth, ’cause you know I’m right.”

  “Honey please, you’re an evil woman and I don’t know why I chose you to be the first one I told.”

  “I can tell you why you chose me,” Marlea drawled. “You chose me because you couldn’t keep it to yourself, and you love me, and you know I won’t tell AJ until you say I can. Now, what about that bet? A hundred dollars?” She stuck out her hand. “Shake on it.”

  Rissa made a face as she reached to shake hands, but her eyes were bright when her fingers closed on Marlea’s. “I’ve waited all my life to share this with the right man. Besides, I only have to keep it from him until Christmas morning, right?”

  “Christmas morning, and then all bets are off.”

  Chapter 3

  The heavy thump beyond her kitchen made her heart lurch. “Garage door,” Rissa whispered, her eyes going to the clock on the kitchen wall. He’s home and I only have to make it to midnight. Marlea thought she was funny making me promise to hold out ’til Christmas morning, thought I couldn’t make it. Well, the joke is on her. I get through the next six hours and it’s midnight. One minute past and it’s Christmas morning, and I can tell Dench over and over again.

  His car door slammed, and she looked around her kitchen. “Marlea didn’t say I couldn’t give him any hints.” She took a quick look at the steamer. Tender baby asparagus and new potatoes were ready, with baby carrots on the side. In the oven, baby back ribs were done to perfection, and baby Bibb lettuce leaves topped the salad cooling in the refrigerator.

  “Whatever is clever,
and clever would be me,” Rissa congratulated herself. “If he guesses, it’s not my fault.” Placing the arrangement of red rose buds, fern, and pine in the center of the table, she knew she’d certainly set the scene for revelation.

  Beyond her table, a wall of windows set along a stone terrace looked out onto a hilly expanse of pine and fern, the trees visible even in the dark because of the miles of tiny white lights strung through their branches. Centered on a slight rise, a pool, beautiful in wintry stillness, reflected a small waterfall and the starry winter sky, cold and breathtaking.

  Indoors, Rissa had lined the dozen windows with red and silver ribboned poinsettia plants. Across the room, the fire she’d lit burned brightly and filled the room with warmth. Pine boughs, punctuated by tall red candles in pewter holders, draped the mantle, adding softness to the light and scenting the air around her, making the rooms homey and romantic at the same time. Around her home, comfortable furniture in shades of blue, green, and chocolate brown, rested in pooling shadows created by the moving light. And it all feels so wrong. Looks pretty, but this is not where I want to tell him. It has to be perfect, a memory for our children, she shivered, for our grandchildren.

  But if I feed him, maybe he’ll figure it out on his own and that will be a memory worth keeping. Rissa loved the sight of the small candlelit wrought iron table by the windows. Small and intimate, just the two of us for dinner and a memory, she approved.

  His key turned in the lock. I get to greet my husband and welcome him home. AJ, Marlea and the kids will come by to trim the tree, stay for a couple of hours, and then I’m home free. The door handle turned and she blew out hard. I’m as ready as I’m going to get, and maybe, she smiled, since we started this in bed, that might be the perfect place to tell him—after midnight.