Can I Get an Amen

by Janice Sims

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said, thanking him for taking care of her.

  “You deserve to be spoiled,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I’m worried about you. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. I just need to get more rest.”

  “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you do,” he said. Then he sat and talked with her until she fell back asleep.

  As soon as Dominique was asleep, Blair ate a bowl of the soup and put the rest in the refrigerator. He didn’t like the heavy feeling he got in his chest when he saw Dominique lying around like a wilted flower. He knew he cared for her a lot and didn’t want to think about how much. He wished he had been able to persuade Dominique to go to the doctor. Her symptoms closely resembled those of a friend who had sunk into depression.

  Checking on Dominique one last time, he kissed her cheek. Then he went into the kitchen and called Scooter to pick him up.

  When his friend’s car pulled up, Blair closed Dominique’s door and headed outside.

  “I didn’t know what to think when I saw your car still in the parking lot after church,” Scooter said as Blair got in, shut the door, and fastened the seatbelt.

  “Dominique wasn’t feeling well, so I drove her home.”

  Scooter’s gaze pierced him to the bone. “There’s been a lot of gossip going around about you two. You’re not from here, so it doesn’t touch you, but she’s been taking a lot of heat,” he said, pulling off.

  “I didn’t know,” Blair said honestly. “What can I do to help her?”

  “That depends on you.” Scooter looked at him, looked away, and did it again. “How do you really feel about Dominique? Do you love her?”

  “It’s too soon for that,” Blair said quickly.

  “Do you think you could love her?”

  “Of course. That’s why I like her so much, why I care about her.”

  Scooter entered the freeway and changed lanes. “Look Blair, those of us who love Dominique are beginning to worry. She hasn’t been herself. I look at her and see her going down the same path she traveled with that creep she married. I know you like her, but I’ve seen you walk away from women that I could have sworn you loved. Are you going to walk away from Dominique?”

  “Yeah.” Blair’s hands balled into fists. He’d had a similar conversation with Mother Maybelle before church started. “Dominique knows that I’m leaving.”

  “Does she? If I were Dominique, I’d find your behavior confusing. You see her almost every day.”

  Blair slammed his fist against the seat. “Why shouldn’t I? We enjoy each other’s company and we’re both adults.”

  Scooter pulled over to the side of the road. “You’re not sleeping with her?”

  “No, not that’s it’s any of your business,” Blair snapped.

  Scooter’s eyes sparked and stuck out. Blair hadn’t seen this side of Scooter in years. The man was furious. “If you were, you’d have to go, and I’d kick your ass to kingdom come.”

  If it came to violence, Blair knew he could hold his own, but he didn’t want to fight his friend, especially over Dominique. He felt frustrated. His hometown had been more liberal. He wasn’t used to living in the small community of Red Oaks and having every move scrutinized. Hurting Dominique was the last thing on his mind. “Look man, chill. I’ve been holding back on purpose. I’m not at a place in my life where I can even consider marrying anyone.”

  “Tell Dominique that,” Scooter said, working the car back into traffic.

  After a difficult appointment where Dominique and her accountant audited the books of one of the town’s oldest department stores, Dominique was elated when Blair called and asked her to lunch. She needed a pick-me-up, and seeing Blair always lifted her spirits.

  He waited for her outside the department store and drove her to the restaurant. She was still so wrapped up in what had come out during the audit, that she initially failed to notice the change in Blair.

  Sitting across from him in a booth at Paradiso, a Mexican restaurant, she didn’t know what to think. Blair was so deep into himself that he wasn’t really there with her. Minutes went by when nothing was said. Dominique had never seen him like this. She tried to draw him into the moment by asking questions, but his short answers required little thought.

  She ordered taco salad and a glass of sangria, noting that he opted for nachos and coffee.

  “Blair, what’s the matter?” she asked finally. “You seem distracted. Is there a problem? You can tell me anything.”

  He studied her, his eyes telling her that he needed her statement to be true. “You know I’ve been worried about you,” he began.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said quickly. “I’ve had a few headaches, but I’m taking better care of myself.”

  “I know there’s been a lot of gossip about us. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt by it.”

  She shrugged with a casualness she didn’t really feel. She wondered if she was about to be dumped for her own good. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Is there something else?”

  “Yes.” He reached out to clasp her hand. “Dominique, I like you a lot. I think you know that.”

  “Yes, I do.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I like you a lot, too.”

  He didn’t seem reassured. The warm affection she was used to seeing in his gaze was missing and so was the easy flow of his conversation. Dominique held her breath and waited.

  “Remember the picnic?” he continued. “When I told you where I was in my life? How I’m not ready to settle down?”

  Moistening her dry lips, she leaned forward. “I remember.”

  He rubbed the space between his brows and stumbled through his words. “Well I, um, wanted you to know that it’s still true. I’m not ready to marry anyone, and I don’t want to lead you on.”

  Removing her hand from his, Dominique set her back straight against the cushioned booth. Blair hadn’t led her on, but until he’d actually repeated what he’d told her at the picnic, she’d been hoping deep inside that he’d fall in love with her and want to marry her. When had she become so naive?

  Her gaze locked with his. He sat across from her, waiting uncomfortably for her response. She expelled the air from her lungs with a loud sigh. Then she laughed out loud. “You haven’t led me on. I’m not expecting you to suddenly declare your undying love and marry me,” she lied. “And for the record, I haven’t asked you to marry me, either.”

  He ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. Then he chuckled, too.

  “What brought this on?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “This is a close-knit community. The people who love you are worried about you.”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “Did my parents—”

  “No.” He reached across the table to gently massage her hand. “Your parents had nothing to do with this.”

  “Then who?” She glanced up as the waitress placed her sangria and salad, and Blair’s nachos, on the table.

  “Does it matter who?” Blair asked when their server was gone.

  “I guess not.” Dominique sipped her sangria and suspected Mother Maybelle and Reverend Avery, maybe even Deacon Jones. Her initial anger dissipated. Someone had made sure she got a wake up call. They’d done her a favor because what she’d suspected all along was true. She was just something pleasant for Blair to do while he was in town.

  Now that he’d cleared things up with her, Blair relaxed and put in an order for his usual beef and cheese enchiladas.

  Dominique ate the food she usually loved without tasting it. Focusing on Blair’s handsome face, she wondered what it took to really touch his heart, to earn his love. She managed to laugh and joke with him like always, but deep inside she knew that things would never be the same between them.

  When Blair drove her to her car, she leaned across the seat and pressed her mouth to his in the deep, heartfelt kiss she’d been dreaming a
bout. She threaded her fingers through his soft hair, caressed his face, and tangled her tongue with his. He groaned and his heart pounded beneath her fingers. Behind her closed lids, she savored all that he was and told herself that the love, the warmth, and the happiness she felt with him were temporary. He wasn’t really hers and would never be.

  She turned to gather her purse and briefcase when the kiss ended. Blair came around and opened her door. He helped her out and stood there, suddenly reluctant to let go of her hand.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said as she gently tugged her hand from his.

  Blair hovered. “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, certain that he wouldn’t and not sure how she would react if he did. She opened her car door and climbed in. He stared as she closed the door, clicked the seatbelt, and started the engine.

  Driving home, Dominique went over all her business appointments in her head and all the things that required some action on her part. She had a lot to do. Inside her condo she cleaned the kitchen and bathroom to keep her mind off Blair.

  It wasn’t until she sat at the table, alone with her glass of wine, that the first tear fell and hit her linen placemat. Dominique slumped forward on the table and cried.

  She was angry with herself for being naïve enough to fall in love with Blair and hurt that he didn’t have the good sense to love her back. She wasn’t headed for the public humiliation she’d had with her ex-husband, but the pain in her heart overwhelmed her.

  When the telephone rang, she checked the caller ID display and saw the name “Jones.” Dominique’s throat clogged up at the thought of talking to Blair. With her shoulders straight, she turned off the ringer and headed into her bedroom.

  Eight

  On Sunday, church started pretty much the way it always did. Dominique finished the announcements and took her seat as Blair made his way to the microphone.

  Gathering himself, he looked at the congregation with sincere appreciation. His gaze even swept the choir stand, but Dominique did not react. “Good morning everyone. I want to thank each and every one of you for welcoming me to Red Oaks and making my stay here the best I’ve ever had,” he began. “I’m especially grateful to Deacon Jones, Mother Maybelle, the Winston family, and several others, too numerous to mention. To show my sincere appreciation, I’d like to invite you to my race next Sunday in Atlanta. I’ve reserved and paid for enough tickets to cover everyone. You can pick them up at the arena box office. I hope you’ll all come and be my guests.”

  Reverend Avery stood and approached Blair to pat him on the shoulder. “I love it when our young folks succeed and make us proud,” the reverend said. “Mother Maybelle and Deacon Jones have been filling my ears with this young man’s accomplishments for years. I’m proud to see him standing here, well on the road to big-time success. Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I intend to be at that race in Atlanta next Saturday.”

  In a pink silk suit and matching hat, Mother Maybelle stood. “Excuse me, Reverend Avery. I’m going to that race to show my support for Blair, too. I just wanted to announce that I rented a bus, and anyone who wants a ride to Atlanta is welcome to come along for free.”

  The congregation murmured in approval.

  “Deborah and I will be there, too,” Dominique’s father called out.

  Several of the choir members gave Dominique expectant glances. She ignored them. She thought it was nice of him to invite the church to his race, but it didn’t mean that Dominique had to tag along to get a taste of what she was missing. Dominique already knew what she was missing—Blair’s love—and she had no intention of airing her loss in public.

  After leaving the choir stand at the end of service, Dominique stashed her robe while Blair talked to her parents. Then she slipped out of the church while most of the congregation was still socializing.

  On Wednesday night, Dominique sat with her visiting cousin, Lucy, at a corner table in the Red Velvet Room. In the past she’d gone there several times with Blair to dance, but showing up for the ladies’ night activities was new for her.

  Tall and voluptuous, Lucy had the waiters running to get her drinks and several of the male patrons buying them. She’d already caused major drama when two men argued over her and were asked to leave.

  Dressed in a red-fringed slip dress and matching heels, Dominique had danced several times with different partners and sipped wine in between. She’d forgotten how it felt to be single and available. Before Blair, she’d been too hung up on not repeating past mistakes and concerned about what other people thought. Now she was enjoying herself.

  In the five days since she’d stopped dating Blair, a few of the town’s eligible bachelors had made their interest known. She’d gone to high school with Deke Winters, the city attorney, who had spent time at her table earlier in the evening. He was also divorced, and all the wiser for his past mistakes. In addition, Rob Tolbert had caught her in one of his supermarkets and asked her out.

  Dominique danced in her seat, certain that things would be fine as soon as she got over Blair Thomas.

  As if she’d conjured him up, his handsome and exciting face appeared in the crowd. Butterflies rushed her stomach. Glad that Lucy was on the floor dancing, she watched as he made a path straight to her table.

  “Dominique,” he greeted, looking at her like he expected her to get up and run. “Mind if I sit down?”

  She extended her hand to point at the chair across from her.

  “Are you still avoiding me?”

  “No. Would you like something to drink?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t handle things right when we had lunch the other day, did I?”

  This time Dominique shook her head. “I realize that you tried very hard, and I appreciate that. I got a wakeup call. I was getting much too attached and I didn’t know.”

  His gaze covered her face with a hint of longing. “I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt you. I miss you. We were too good together to let things go down like this.”

  Her insides tightened, the butterflies shifting nervously.

  “I miss you, too,” she said honestly. “I knew you were only going to be here a short time. Aren’t you leaving for good on Friday?”

  “Yeah.” He flashed the good-natured grin she’d seen him use to cover awkward situations. “You were in church on Sunday. You heard me issue the racing invitation to the congregation?”

  Lifting her glass, she sipped, not quite willing to make things easy for him. “Yes, I was there. And?”

  There was an unspoken plea in his brown eyes. “And I wanted to extend a personal invitation to you. You get your own room and a front row seat at the Four Star Championship Auto Racing Exhibition. I’ll drive you down to Atlanta and provide your meals. And…we part as friends.”

  He extended his hand, palm up across the table.

  She stared at it, evaluating her options and knowing that if she refused she would never see him again. Eyes moist, her hand inched across the table to clasp his.

  “Thank you.” He held it with both hands, massaging it. “We pull out at six on Friday morning.”

  The first few bars of Lionel Richie’s “Three Times A Lady” began to play. Blair’s hands gripped hers as he stood. “One dance and I’m gone. Will you dance with me?”

  At her consent, he drew her to the dance floor and into his arms. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his woodsy scent and laid her head against his chest. He held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

  After the dance, he took her back to her table and disappeared into the crowd.

  The next morning, Dominique called her parents and informed them that she was going to Blair’s race in Atlanta. Her mother was overjoyed. Her father wished her a good trip and said he’d see her there. Her little brother was asleep.

  Nervous excitement and anticipation ate at her as she packed an overnight bag with her toiletries, a nightgown, a champagne-colored dress and matching shoes for dinn
er, and a black and blue pants outfit to wear to the race.

  She ignored the knowing glances when she got her hair done at her favorite shop. Then she checked her calendar and rearranged her appointments. For better or worse, the next two days with Blair marked the end of a time in her life that she would remember forever.

  Blair came to pick her up at six a.m. sharp on Friday. When she opened the door, he simply hugged her tight. Then he put her bag in the trunk, helped her into the car, and they headed out.

  The warm wind whipped at her scarf and caressed her skin as they drove. Dominique enjoyed the ride with Blair, laughing and talking. It was as if they’d never been apart. Knowing that it was their last time together made it even more special. The two-hour drive was over in no time.

  Blair took her to Perkin’s for waffles and bacon. They talked about the next day’s race and his toughest competition. Dominique was sure he could win.

  Later, he took her to the garage where his crew was preparing his car for the race. In the shop area, he introduced her to Seymour, Tim, and Holden, his mechanics, who also doubled as his pit crew. They greeted her warmly and explained the repairs and upgrades they were doing to his car.

  Dominique touched the sides of Blair’s car, the Blue Dream. A life-sized version of some of the toys she’d seen her brother playing with when he was little; it looked light and fast, and almost too fragile to hold Blair. On the back quarter panel she found the Winston Banks logo, along with other well-known sponsors.

  In the back of the garage, she met his father, Jay Thomas, who was watching tapes of past races. Tall and handsome, with a touch of silver at his temples and a few strands threaded through his hair, he looked like a slightly older version of Blair. They could have been brothers.

  Taking her hand, Jay welcomed her and told her that he’d heard a lot about her. He had Blair’s chocolate-brown eyes, but his seemed to see clear through to her soul. She caught him noting the way she and Blair interacted and the way Blair held her hand.