“Get Out!” Etta shrieked. “That is to wild. You have to bring it.”
“No way,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to risk it getting broken in the transport. You will have to come to my place someday to hear it.”
A hush seemed to charge into the room like a pink elephant with a hangover. His invite was hanging out-there, yet neither was sure how to proceed. Keigo realized he had made an open door invitation. He really was tired. He was giving her the impression that they would still be communicating after the thirty days ended. Etta, in a graceful way of not making a big deal of his offer, put him at ease.
“That is wild.” She nodded her head at him. “Chet Baker was one bad ass trumpet player. He made strides in a genre few Caucasian men have succeeded in. It’s sad that he had to become another one of those musician drug clichés that we hear about too often. It’s truly a shame how many of the late great talented jazz artists took the hard path in their personal lives.”
“True,” he agreed.
Etta’s stomach growled and he laughed.
“Enough for today. Do you have a way home?” He asked.
“Are you offering?”
“I could have my driver drop you off,” he suggested.
“Driver?” She snorted. “My, aren’t we special.”
“It’s not like that,” he said defensively.
“Hey, I’m not judging you, Judge,” she teased. “I have my car in the parking garage. Thank you for offering. You have my numbers in your case file, or just key in and search my name with ‘psychic chef’ if you want to drop me an email. Meanwhile, I will be utilizing my readings on you and making out a menu that will help your ulcer.
Keigo returned her smile. The aching in his stomach already seemed to be easing.
CHAPTER 4
It had been two days since Etta’s court fiasco. Even if she hadn’t received thirty days community service, the tongue-lashing she received from her mother was punishment enough. Having a psychic for a mother left her little leeway for getting away with anything. She wondered why her own abilities were so limited when she felt as if her mom was the oracle of all. Her mother explained that until she gave birth to her own daughter, her abilities were limited also.
Etta didn’t see children in her future, so she was content to have the abilities she had. In the past, she resented being different. Meeting Neil and falling in love, she was willing to give up everything to do with the supernatural world by closing and refusing to practice the art. In the end, it was the one thing she reached out to and held on to in order to stay sane.
Helping others with her abilities and utilizing her loving grandmother’s holistic uses of foods that had been passed down from one Louisiana Bayou Chirac female to another, had became her life’s goal. She figured this was the way God intended for her to spend her life. Being alone, Etta figured she must have a higher purpose than being the supportive wife and loving mother she’d hoped to be.
She released a deep cleansing breath and lifted her arms in a stretch before moving from the Tadasana yoga position into the Vrksasana position. Poised with right foot against her left inner thigh, she aligned her pelvis and raised her hands overhead with palms pressed together.
She easily held the stance.
Etta heard from Keigo once since they parted, and it was a quick and abrupt 'thanks' for the cabbage and carrot soup she made to improve his stomach issues. He had already left to begin his vacation. Lucky for her, his Assistant, Nan, was passing through. She assured her she would make sure Keigo received the soup and her note with instructions. Etta also took the opportunity to pen him a personal “thank you” for allowing her the chance to set things right without going to jail. He assured her he would be calling again with details and that is where things stood. The waiting was driving her crazy. She had never been good at sitting around and waiting on others to make decisions for her.
Etta blew out a puff of breath and alternated sides.
What if he had a chance to think about it more and changed his mind? It wasn’t really like he owed her any consideration, but he did say he was a man of his word and she believed him. The other thing that nagged her was Keigo would think she was helping because she had to. The truth was if she had been giving the opportunity under different circumstances, she would have volunteered her time willingly. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her summers while on hiatus from the show than spending it on a good cause.
Etta blew out another burst of air. Bending over at the waist, she pressed her nose to her knees and held it for a moment before coming up in a prayer stance. She said a silent prayer of thankfulness, ending her workout. Picking up her towel, she wrapped it around her neck and moved out of the atrium to the kitchen.
There was no denying that there was this vexing awareness between them. She prepared a cup of mint tea and made her way with cup in hand to the small corner desk that housed her laptop and dropped down into the cloth swivel seat.
Her musings went back to her encounter with Keigo. Etta believed people were brought into her life for a reason. Sometimes the reasoning wasn’t always clear and it wasn’t easy for her to see the big picture.
Etta saw the opportunity to do something good for some deserving youth, who in spite of their dysfunctional home lives, remained focused on having a positive future. A future that would afford them the opportunity to pay it forward and assist many other children like themselves. It was a wonderful idea and an opportunity she was excited to be a part of. She grudgingly admired Keigo for his efforts.
Once Etta arrived home after the long and nerve-wracking day in court, she immediately made a headline for her computer to check out Bent Arrow Camp.
In her search, she found a website for the camp with requirement information and printable applications. The requirements were reasonable enough for any student serious in pursuing a career in law, considering the long road they had ahead, depending on the field of law they pursued. Their options were endless.
The requirements of acceptance were maintaining at least a “B” average, no unexcused tardiness or absences, permission from parent or guardian and a desire to pursue a career in the field of law.
The more Etta read, the more impressed she became by the amenities the camp offered; not just physical amenities, but mental amenities that would breed self-confidence and hope. Keigo had taken on a huge undertaking and in her eyes an admirable one. Something such as this could eventually make a positive impact on a community. Pretty much like what she and her old carnie neighbors did for this abused and abandoned neighborhood.
Keigo truly was making an inconspicuous difference and doing so with a creative fun environment. What was more remarkable was that he was doing it on the dime of generous corporate sponsors. The same sponsors that were also offering apprentice programs to the children once they graduated from college. The way he had set things up, Bended Arrow wasn't just offering these kids a summer and then turning them loose to succeed or fail.
This program was like a surrogate parenting until the student was actively participating in his or her chosen profession. The camp was made up old attendees volunteering their time. As a result, not only were the kids getting an education, they were associating with like-mind adults that had been where they are at one time in their lives. Etta thought Keigo was amazingly commendable and now through foolish circumstances, she was going to be small part of it.
“Well, Judge Handsome, you seem to have your hands in a little bit of everything,” she murmured aloud. Etta leafed through the printed papers of information she found on the camp and Keigo. She hadn’t had the chance to read everything, so she suppose now was a good time to skim through all that she found.
“Dang,” she smiled into her cup of tea before taking a deep sip. Flipping over pages, “Not only is this man gorgeous and intelligent with a good taste in music, he’s…” She paused and placed her cup aside.
Etta pulled one page in particular from the stack. It w
as a picture of a much younger Keigo and a beautiful statuesque woman with auburn hair piled high up on her head. Cascading ringlets rested on her brow and high cheekbones. She could have been a runway model. She was that gorgeous. A broad smile glowed on both of their faces.
“Up and coming power couple makes a difference,” she read the headline. The caption under the photo read, “Attorney and Mrs. Keigo Kyou breaks ground to building dreams.” Etta was surprised. Not by the discovery his deceased wife was extremely beautiful, considering Keigo’s attractiveness, but for some reason she had assumed she would also be Japanese.
It was rare for Japanese men to marry outside their ethnic group, but it did happen. Of course having a Caucasian wife was less surprising than if she had been Black.
Now Asian men and Black Women were a rare pairing, for sure. Etta could never figure out why. She always loved the Asian culture and had taken courses in Japanese language and literature. Etta supposes it was because at one time her father had been stationed in Japan. It was the country her parents spent the beginning of their marriage and spoke about it with great love and fondness.
It wasn't until after her parents returned to the states and made their home in Louisiana that Toby and she had put in an appearance. Her mother didn’t want to have children until she was able to live closer to her family.
For years, Etta’s parents had promised her and her brother that they would all go to Japan for a visit. It never happened. Once her grandmother realized she was psychic like her mother, normal in her household became something completely different.
It was the duty of the Chirac women to nurture their “special” children in the craft of healing and abstaining from using their abilities for selfish reasons. It was the duty of these women’s husbands to be understanding of these exceptional women and encourage their nurturing process.
Her father had been a loving and understanding man; someone who was always on her side when she wanted to go play instead of honing her abilities. He was the closest thing to making her feel like she was like any other little girl whose daddy adored her.
Etta envied the girls of her family that the psychic abilities skipped. They had careers and lives that weren’t marked by anything other than their dreams to be remarkable adults. It didn’t matter if it was in the field of healing or not.
Etta leaned back in her chair, looking at the picture of Keigo and his wife once more before dropping the printed page back onto her desk. Why was she drudging up her childhood? Why did she care about the statistics of Japanese men and African American women dating and marrying? It wasn’t as if she and Keigo were dating. She ran off at the mouth, got into trouble and was being penalized for it. Judge Keigo Kyou was just her jailer with a gilded key.
After thirty days, she probably would never see him again. She wouldn’t even be able to bump into him by accident. From all the black tie photos she’s seen in these stack of papers, they didn’t run in the same circles. Keigo wasn’t just a sexy judge that was on television like she had initially thought.
This man was a motivator. He founded the Kyou Youth Foundation in honor of his deceased father who had once been a Goodwill Ambassador for Japan. He went to prep schools and an Ivy League college. Her family was full of people, blood and non-blood related. Her grandmother owned and ran a carnival. Unlike Keigo, her family was made up of colorful and strange people, some blood related and some not, but every homeless stray had been welcomed.
She could see from the pictures of Keigo staring down at his wife, he loved her and if he loved her as much as she had loved Neil, he would be no happier using her as a substitute for what he lost than she would by using him. As wonderful as Keigo seemed, he wasn’t Neil.
***
Keigo knew he should have called first especially since it was just eight o’clock in the morning, but he already thanked her over the phone and thought he should do so again in person. After following her instructions and keeping only to soup and herbal tea, his stomach didn’t ache once and to his surprise he wasn’t starving like he thought he would be when reading her note.
He smiled as the driver pulled the BMW up behind an ancient canary yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Not one of the updated models, but one that looked as if it’s seen better days in the seventies. It even had a “Flower Power” sicker on the bumper with a huge faded daisy flower. For some reason, it seemed fitting. There was something very natural and earthy about Etta in general.
Keigo unfolded himself from the car, tugging at his Levi jeans which seemed to grow tighter at the thought of seeing Etta again. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t pictured that dimpled smile of hers a hundred times since they parted.
He leaned to look inside the car window and said, “This probably won’t take long, but why don’t you go and make those deliveries and come back to pick me up when you’re done?”
“Will do, Judge Kyou,” the driver nodded. “Call me if you need me before I finish.”
Keigo returned his nod, straightened and tapped the hood of his car to send him on his way. He turned his attention to Etta’s charming cottage style home. It was one of four that made up a quaint and cozy cul-de-sac of similar gingerbread style homes all of vibrant shades of purple with green trim, blue with orange trim, red with white trim and Etta’s, yellow, with brown trim.
He was seeing a pattern here. She owned a yellow car and a yellow home. Keigo made a mental note to remember it must be her favorite color, or a color that has some meaning to her.
Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to him there was a possibility she didn’t live alone. It was very early in the morning and he had no desire to start his day pissing off an entire household because he was an early riser too rude to call. He suppose he could make that call now on his cell phone, but what if that gave her the opportunity to tell him it wasn’t a good time and he would have to camp out like an idiot on her covered front porch and wait for his driver to return.
So what if he woke up everyone. He was here for business reasons. Keigo walked up the random patterned stepping-stones that led into an enclosed entryway garden of low camellia shrubbery and miniature Bonsai. Etta’s place really was nice, nestled in an old valley subdivision of refurbished homes. Keigo wasn’t surprised to see Etta had gravitated to such a time warped diverse neighborhood that he had been reading only good things about all the changes they were making, for the better, in this part of town.
Keigo stopped and looked behind him before returning the enthusiastic wave of Etta's elderly Asian neighbor. He couldn't stop the smile from coming to his impassive face. The way she was grinning and waving at him, anyone passing would have assumed he was her long lost son returning home from the war.
The entire time she was stepping off her porch and heading his way, she was chatting, even though he couldn’t hear a word she said. As she neared, his mouth dropped wide in disbelief. It was worse than he originally thought.
Keigo bit down on his back teeth and placed his hand briefly over his mouth to keep from blatantly laughing aloud. The closer she got, the more he felt as if he was overdosing on bold bright colors. Keigo blanched from the blinding huge floral pattern Hawaiian Muumuu, she was wearing. The morning sun appeared to bounce off each shade of color as she made her way to the medium, neatly trimmed bush divider that separated the two yards. Immediately, a walking and talking rainbow came to mind; from her dyed firecracker red hair down to her neon blue floral printed mules.
“Hellooo, handsome,” she called out to him, her accent heavy but understandable.
It has been so long since anyone called him by anything other than, “Judge Kyou.” Then after meeting Etta, he seemed to be called everything but. Etta had treated him by calling him “Judge Handsome,” “Gorgeous,” and “Sexy” and it was pleased him. Hearing the same from her eclectic neighbor didn’t quite have the same effect.
“Good morning.” Keigo smiled down at her. She only came up to his stomach and he was only a shade below being six feet tall. “I’m
here to see Etta Jones.”
“It doesn’t take a psychic to see that, handsome,” she teased and wiggled deep brown drawn on eyebrows at him.
Was she coming on to him? Keigo didn’t know if he should be flattered or run.
“We don’t see many male visitors visiting our little Etta-bird’s door at this time of the morning.” Her eyebrows wiggled again and he wondered if instead of flirting, it was a nervous twitch. “Too bad, I would have been delighted to see you creeping out of her place after a hot all-nighter instead of arriving,” she hawed with a winked. “If you know what I mean.”
Keigo didn’t try to hold back his laughter any longer. She was entertaining, and if you looked beyond the extremely red hair, matching red lips, brown penciled eyebrows against a pale face of white face power a shade lighter than she was, she actually was an attractive elderly lady.
He felt pleasure soar thorough him at hearing male visitors for Etta was a rarity. He had no right to feel this way and he may question his reasons why later, but for now, he was pleased.
“It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Ms…”
“I’m everybody’s Auntie Loo. Give me your hand please.” Auntie Loo took his offered hand without hesitation over the bushes. “You are...”
“Keigo Kyou,” he supplied assuming she wanted to shake his hand until she cradled it and turned it over, to look at his palm.
She gave him a sympathetic smile before saying softly, “You, dear man, are still living with a lot of guilt and fear that what happened before could happen again. I’m sorry for your loss. I know your pain, but you must live life for yourself and those you’ve lost.”
“Pardon me?”
“Young man, there was nothing you could have done.”
“How--”
“You and Etta are both victims of your circumstances. I know for you, you’re bitter because the perpetrator of the crime hasn’t been caught. It's okay for you to be angry, but you must forgive yourself and not allow the anger to become your life,” Auntie Loo declared. “You’re ready to move on. Allow Etta to free you from the past and in freeing you, it will aid her in doing the same, but only if you both choose to move forward.”
The Flavor Of Love Page 7