Reye's Gold (Indigo)

by Robinson, Ruthie

  “Same here, son.” Mr. Jackson clapped Stephen hard on the back as they walked to the front door. “Chin up,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. Good night, Mr. Jackson.”

  He went through the front door, down the sidewalk to his car, got in, and drove away. He had planned to go directly to his hotel, but he’d ended up heading back towards the university and towards Reye’s house. He found it just as he’d remembered. Planted flowers were in the front beds of the house, an explosion of purples, yellows, and pinks. She’d always taken care of her home; he’d at least helped her with that on occasion. Taking a deep breath, he drove away.

  Chapter 17

  Saturday morning came early for Reye. She was tired, not having slept well the night before, her conscience had worked her over pretty good for ditching Stephen. Between those feelings of remorse and remembering the goods times they’d shared last year, she’d tossed and turned most of the night away before finally drifting off to sleep at around two a.m. The alarm had gone off at six, leaving her feeling more than a little punch drunk and in need of a strong cup of joe. Her team’s soccer game was scheduled to start at nine this morning, and she preferred to get to the fields at least thirty minutes before the kids arrived. She’d asked the parents to have the kids at the fields at least thirty minutes before each game.

  Apparently her conscience wasn’t done with her yet as she fought off another round of guilt at leaving him alone with her dad. It was inexcusable, except that her anger and hurt would show itself when she least expected it, like a permanent virus that lived in its host and attacked when the defenses were low. To appease her conscience, she promised herself to apologize the next time she saw him.

  She walked to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, made in her brand spanking new coffee maker, the crème dé la crème of coffee makers, complete with timer, courtesy of her brother Jack and his family. Before this gift, she’d used a hand-me-down from her mother. She eagerly set her new machine to brew each morning, waking her up to the strong, addictive aroma of her favorite coffee blend. Standing in the kitchen with her cup in her hand, she contemplated Stephen again. It would be so easy to give in to him now, she wanted to badly since returning from Dallas, her fingers itching to touch the body that she’d grown to love. She’d worshiped religiously at that area of skin, just below his waist and abs, a smooth stretch of highway leading to one of his best assets, and her absolute favorite part of him. She loved the spot on his neck below his right ear, and she missed curling into his chest after a night spent making love to him.

  Those days when she felt low and needed a lift she would pull from her memory a night spent with him where he, in his usual way, had taken control of her body like a man possessed. She totally loved it. He could ask anything of her, and he had, and she did her damndest to not disappoint. Giving yourself completely to someone, now that was some scary shit. Not having them feel the same, and learning to live without them, had been on the edge of terrifying. But she’d lived to tell the tale.

  She finished her coffee, placing her cup in the sink. She’d better get dressed and put her mind on the game. She’d just stepped out of the shower when she heard her doorbell. It couldn’t be anyone but Sam. She paid dearly for having him as her assistant coach, stopping by to get his eat and drink on whenever he wanted to, or to pick up groceries. “No, just a second,” she screamed as she went to put on her robe and walked to the door. She looked out of the peephole to find Stephen standing there. She stepped back, surprised. What was he doing here? Okay, don’t panic, breathe, girl. She opened the door about two inches, peering out at him. He stood on her porch, looking like a god. He wore black shorts that stopped just above his knees and a snug-fitting black shirt that clung tightly to his upper body in a way that was truly criminal. A baseball cap turned backwards, also black, resided on his head. The most damaging part of his ensemble was that smile, her favorite, the slightly wicked one, the one that had talked her into plenty.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought maybe you could use some help dragging your soccer gear over to the field before the game.”

  As excuses went, it wasn’t great, but he continued wearing that smile, so it worked. “I also brought you some coffee.” He held up a cup of Starbucks close to the door for her to see. “Your favorite, a tall white chocolate mocha with whip.” Okay, so he’d remembered her favorite drink. Opening the door fully, she stepped back, allowing him entrance. “Come in. You caught me just getting out of the shower, so could you wait here while I change?” She closed the front door behind him, taking a few steps toward her room before turning around, walking back to him and taking the coffee from his hand. “Thank you,” she said, heading to her room.

  “This was so not a good thing Reye, you can’t just roll over and play dead whenever you see him,” she said to her weaker self. “I know,” her weaker self replied to the stronger self, who didn’t always stick around when she needed her. Hurriedly she put on her shorts, shirt, socks, and tennis shoes. She had gotten the soccer balls and small cones that made up her training gear together and had loaded them into the truck last night. All that remained to be added were the water and sports drinks.

  “Hey, Stephen,” she called out from her room. She walked into her closet in search of her cap.

  “You called,” he replied, leaning into the doorframe, a forearm on each side of the door. She turned to see him standing at the entrance of her bedroom door and it brought forth a rush of memories of times spent with him in this room. He would sometimes follow her when she went in search of something, and it always led to a minor delay for them both. When she’d turned and found him standing there, for a moment she just stared at him, processing some of those memories. It took a couple of seconds for her to pull it together. The smile he had worn when she called him had turned into something else entirely, maybe matching the desire she was sure was evident on her face.

  “Would you grab that ice chest in the kitchen and put it in my truck. It’s for the game,” she said.

  “Sure,” he said, turning to do her bidding.

  “Thank you. Oh, and Stephen . . .”

  “Yes?” He turned to her again, looking at her, his face now a study in neutrality.

  “I wanted to apologize for last night. You know, me sending you to the house and then not showing up. Anyway, I meant for you to meet my dad without me, but I didn’t intend to not show up at all. I’m sorry for standing you up.”

  She looked him in the eye and continued. “It’s just that seeing you at practice kind of caught me off guard. Knowing you came specifically to see me sort of rattled me.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised. I told you I would.”

  “Yeah, I know. It still surprised me, though.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling again. “I didn’t expect you to be easy.” She read both sincerity and earnestness in his expression. “I m just grateful that you’re willing to listen.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  They both continued to look at each other a second or two more. Reye realized that she needed to get moving. “Well, I’d better finish.” He left to retrieve the ice chest and she quickly grabbed her hat and followed him into the front of the house.

  As she entered the living room, he was walking towards the front door, pulling the ice chest along behind him. “Are you ready?”

  “Just need to get my keys. ”

  “I’ll just load this in your truck.”

  “Sure, thanks. Hey, do you want to ride to the game together?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she could have kicked herself.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, sensing her hesitation.

  “It’s no big deal. You’re here to help, and there is no point in us riding in separate cars. We are, after all, going to the same place. Right?”

  “Sure.” They both walked out the front door, Reye locking up behind them.

  Who would have thought he would have shown up to help
her out today? She was nervous at having him with her, coaching while he watched. He’d let her talk nonstop about her strategy on the drive over. More than anything he could have done monetarily or physically, his showing up did more to move her back into his arms than anything. Once they arrived at the fields, he followed her instructions and set up the cones like she wanted. After the kids arrived, he kicked the ball back and forth with them, helping them to warm up. She was nervous, but because he knew soccer, she felt calmer having him here. He was a good listener, had been even in the earlier days when they laid in the dark talking about their days. He had always listened to her.

  Sam arrived not long after, and hadn’t seemed surprised to see Stephen. He and Stephen shook hands and talked for a while, about who knew what. She was sure her dad had called Sam the night before and given him the 411. Sam and her dad had bonded with each other during their “save-the-Reye” campaign after Stephen’s departure.

  After the game, which her team won, Stephen watched her walk over to him and Sam after having made sure all of her kids were going home with a parent. She looked great in her coaching attire. He’d always loved her in shorts, his second favorite clothing item of hers; her birthday suit being his favorite, of course. Watching her give instructions to the kids had his body temperature rising. Who knew, maybe he could talk her into playing coach with him one day. He liked this side of her, the coach, the caregiver. It was nice to know, for future child-rearing purposes, that’d she make a great mother. He imagined she’d want children of her own, of their own, after they were married, that is.

  He had been surprised by Sam’s response to him. Reye’s brother had been welcoming, throwing him for a loop. He had expected an adversary, but instead he’d been blown away by Sam’s hospitality. Maybe he knew something that Stephen didn’t; whatever, it was encouraging to know that someone was rooting for him. Reye stopped in front of him and Sam.

  “What are you two smiling about?”

  “Nothing much, just admiring a beautiful girl,” Sam said.

  Reye rolled her eyes and looked over at Stephen. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Oh, you two came together?” Sam asked, clearly surprised.

  “Yes,” they said in unison. Stephen, with his eyes on Reye, said, “I went by her house this morning, thinking she might need some help with the game. She let me tag along.”

  “Okay, then. Well, good game, Reye, I’ll see you later,” Sam said.

  “Sure. Bye, Sam,” Reye said.

  “See you around, Stephen.” Sam stuck out his hand for a fist bump.

  “Yeah. You, too.”

  Reye and Stephen watched him walk away before getting into Reye’s truck. They didn’t talk much on the way back.

  Reye pulled into her driveway. Stephen’s car was parked out front, exactly where they’d left it.

  “Let me help you load everything into the house,” he said.

  “Sure, grab the cooler and I’ll grab my soccer bag.” They walked to the front door, and Reye opened it for Stephen and followed him in. He rolled the ice chest into the kitchen while she stood by the front door waiting for him to return. This wasn’t the ending he had envisioned.

  “Would you like to get some lunch?”

  “No, thanks. But thanks again for helping me with the game. I’m tired, so I am going to take the rest of the day to clean up my home and get some rest.”

  “Sure, no problem. Well, until next time. Take care.”

  “Yeah. You, too,” she said as she opened the door to let him pass through.

  With a final wave, she closed the door.

  Disappointed, he walked to his car. The upside, he reminded himself, was that he’d gotten to spend the morning with her. Baby steps, he reminded himself. She was worth it.

  * * *

  Stephen checked out of his hotel early Sunday morning, feeling optimistic. He was headed over to Reye’s parents’ house for breakfast and to meet her mother. He dressed in casual slacks and a collared shirt, deciding to forgo his jeans. He needed to make a good impression. Reye had spoken of her mother both with fondness and with a little bit of frustration from what she’d considered her mother’s constant pushing. Hell, he’d trade his for hers any day of the week. Mothers, his and hers, were alike in wanting their kids to be successful, also alike in how their kids responded and were affected by that pushing. Funny that their parents were similar; both he and Reye felt a special kinship with their fathers and a loving, albeit a little distant, relationship with their mothers.

  He drove into a newer subdivision, built within the last ten years by the looks of it, located in the north part of town. He’d mapped the address, and here he was pulling up alongside a light pink two-story brick home. No sign of Reye’s truck, though, as he parked in the empty driveway and walked to the front door. He rang the doorbell. The door was opened by an older, shorter version of Reye, minus the locks; long strands of beautiful brown hair fell around her face.

  “You must be Stephen. Please come in. My husband told me to expect you for breakfast this morning. We’ve had breakfast here since the kids started leaving home, living on their own. It was our way of keeping our home open for them, and they make it over when they can. Children can get so busy with their own lives, and sometimes it’s the only chance we get to see them. I bet your mother understands what I mean.” During her talk, she walked him through the living room and on to the kitchen. Their home was lovely, done in yellows and blues; he’d located the source of Reye’s love of color. Reye’s mom reached the kitchen and stopped. “It’s only you and Reye this morning. Have a seat. I can finish cooking while we get to know each other. Would you like something to drink? I have coffee, several juices—orange, apple, or cranberry—and milk.”

  “Sure, I’d like a glass of orange juice.” He watched as she reached into the refrigeration behind her, poured juice into a glass, and handed it to him.

  “Thank you,” Stephen said, taking in the large spacious kitchen. To his right was a large table that looked large enough to seat eight or nine. Mrs. Jackson had indicated the bar stools for him to sit on. It put him in front of her and the grill as she was preparing what appeared to be pancakes. His stomach rumbled. She heard, and they both smiled.

  “So, my husband tells me you met Reye last year before school started?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “He also told me you spent quite a bit of time with her, what, almost the whole year? Is that correct?”

  “That’s correct, yes.”

  “We haven’t met you? A year is a long time. So tell me about yourself. You live in Dallas now?”

  “Yes, I was born and reared there. My family has a law firm that has survived four generations. I was in Austin completing the last year of law school when I met your daughter. I’ve recently taken the bar exam and I’ve started working with my dad in Dallas. I’ve purchased an apart ment there, and most of my time is spent at the firm, getting to know the business.”

  “I see. So what brings you back to Austin?” This woman was amazing. She was grilling him while mixing the ingredients for pancakes from scratch. She pulled a griddle from underneath the counter and placed it over the stove.

  She stopped in her food preparation, waiting for his answer. He cleared his throat. “Actually, your daughter is the reason why I’m here. Reye and I were in a relationship last year, and after law school ended I broke up with her.”

  “I see. So you’re telling me that this relationship ended because you had to go home to Dallas?”

  “Yes and no.”

  She was looking at him the way his old schoolteachers did when they knew he’d done something, waiting for him to tell them the truth. It took all of his concentration not to squirm. He looked into her eyes. “Honestly, Mrs. Jackson, at the time I felt that maybe the differences in our races would be a problem. I hadn’t dated outside of my race before, so it kinda took me by surprise. I didn’t do a very good job of dealing with it. It wasn’t just her race that
confused me, she confused me, and I wasn’t ready and didn’t handle it well. But she captured me, and, in spite of all I knew, I fell in love. It took me a while to come to terms with it. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused her.” He hadn’t broken eye contact with Mrs. Jackson through his diatribe, surprising himself with his heartfelt plea. “Sorry for the long explanation,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

  She smiled in return. “No, I appreciate your candor. Reye is my only daughter, and I only want the best for her. She pushes against me sometimes, most times, in fact, but I love her and don’t want to see her hurt. Thank you for explaining.”

  “Mom, where are you?” Reye’s voice alerted them to her presence. She walked into the kitchen and stopped, looking over at Stephen, surprised. “I thought that was your car parked in the drive.”

  “Hey, Reye, let me pour you some coffee,” her mom said.

  “Reye,” Stephen said, taking a sip of his orange juice and giving her a smile.

  “Uh, good morning, Mom. I didn’t know we were having company.”

  “Your dad invited him, and I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  “Have a seat, I’m almost done. Stephen was just talking about his reasons for returning to Austin,” Mrs. Jackson said, turning her back to them, finishing her breakfast preparations.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said to him, not knowing what to make of her mother’s comment.

  “Well, your dad invited me, and I hadn’t met your mother, so I accepted the invitation. You look great,” he said, giving her a thorough once-over, causing her temperature to rise just a little.

  “I’m going to go to church after breakfast.”

  She looked gorgeous in a tailored black suit that hugged her curves. She had on pumps that put her at eye level with him. He loved her hair, which always made her look sexy to him. He wished he could pull her over to him now, kiss her, hold her; he’d missed that.

  Mr. and Mrs. Jackson both called them to the table, where they talked about the changes that Stephen and her dad were able to complete to the house on Friday night and what repairs were remaining.