Sealed With a Kiss

by Gwynne Forster

  “You’ve forgotten what I taught you, Naomi gal; you should’ve rung the bell and announced your presence. Sit down over there and I’ll have Calvin bring us some breakfast.”

  Naomi looked at her grandfather, who seemed visibly older each time she saw him. I’ve got to do this, she reminded herself.

  “Tell me everything you know about that clinic and my child, Grandpa.”

  He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable, she realized; a man unused to being held accountable, too proud and too virtuous to lie.

  “I’ve told you the situation, Naomi.” She reminded him that the records were sealed and demanded to know more about how the family had located her. Judd admitted that he wasn’t infallible; the clinic guard had recognized him when he’d brought Naomi, and everyone at the clinic knew her first name. It hadn’t been difficult for the family’s detective to locate her.

  “I’m sorry, Naomi gal.”

  She smothered the pity that she felt for the old man. “I don’t want sorry, Grandpa. What I need is a solution. I’m in love with someone, and I have to get my life straightened out. I don’t know what, if anything will come of it because from now on, my son comes first with me. But I have to give myself a chance with this man.”

  The distant gleam that lit his old eyes told her that it was what he had waited years to hear. She didn’t let his apparent indifference lull her into unwariness; Judd was an expert at controlling and hiding his feelings.

  “You marrying him?” he asked casually, as if it were of minor importance.

  “He hasn’t asked,” she cautioned, “but if he does and if I decide I want that, I can’t go to him living a lie and worrying about being found out. I want the woman’s telephone number.”

  “But suppose they’re after extortion money?”

  “Grandpa, they can do that now,” she pointed out, “but if we cooperate, make an offer, maybe she’ll let me see my boy.”

  “Don’t think of him that way, gal; it’ll only cause you pain.”

  Naomi reached for the black coffee that the cook had placed on a small antique table beside her chair. “I saw him. Don’t look so shocked. I just followed your lawyer and identified the house. One morning when I was parked there, I saw him, and I’ll never forget the feeling that I had, watching him skate down the street with his books strapped to his back. I’ve got to meet him, Grandpa, I’ve got to.”

  She imagined that as usual, Judd would weigh the gains and losses before making a move, a trait that had made him a champion chess player; he would want to know what was at stake.

  “Who’ve you fallen in love with, Naomi? Is he good enough for you, gal?”

  “After that trick you pulled, summoning him out here as if he were a teenager and demanding to know his intentions, I shouldn’t tell you a thing.”

  The sedate Reverend Judd Logan whooped for joy. “Cat Meade? You’re in love with Cat Meade. I knew it. I just knew it,” he exclaimed gleefully. “I told him you wouldn’t dance like that with him if he wasn’t special to you.”

  She gave him what she hoped was a withering look. “You were out of line, Grandpa.”

  She sat forward, amazed at the transformation in him. Humility. “Anything I’ve ever done, gal, was because I love you and want the best for you.” She stared open-mouthed as he went on. “Cat Meade, huh? Now, there’s a real man; not a bit like most of these young fellows today. He’s strong, Naomi, and if he gives himself to you, he’ll be there for you always. He’ll never leave you.”

  She lowered her head to prevent his seeing her loss of composure. “Grandpa, that’s the first time you ever said you love me; all these years, it’s what I’ve wanted most to hear you say. I didn’t know you did.” She had to struggle to control her trembling voice. Maybe if he had showed her that he loved her, she wouldn’t have needed so badly to find love with Chuck. Maybe…

  “How could you not know, Naomi gal?” His voice was weak, suddenly old. “You were all I had. But after Hazel left me, my heart just sort of constricted. I loved her so; I still do. One reason why the thought of dying doesn’t bother me is because I know she’s waiting for me. I kept you away from me because I didn’t want you to hurt so badly when I have to leave you, not the way I suffered when your grandma went.” She saw a tear roll down his age-roughened face. “I loved her in a way that I’ve never had the words to express.”

  She walked over to him and hugged him tightly to her. “I wish I could know a love like that, but I don’t hope for it, Grandpa. I’m carrying too much baggage.”

  He wiped his eyes. “Now, gal, I’ve taught you not to be negative; think on the good side. You’ll find it, and you’ll find it with Cat Meade. I’ve been watching people for almost a hundred years, and I watched him; he’s a good man. And he cares for you, or he wouldn’t have come out here when I asked him to. I’d die real happy, gal, if I could leave you with him.”

  Naomi felt a warmth that she hadn’t known before and wondered if her son was seeking what she had just been given—the gift of parental love. “Grandpa, I hope you’re with me in this, but if you aren’t, I’ll have to go it alone. And I’m not doing this for Rufus; I’m doing it for myself.”

  He nodded slowly. “All right, I’ll call my lawyer and get the information you need.”

  Naomi drove into the garage beneath her condominium building, turned off the motor, and sat there. On the way home, she had tried to take her mind off the changes in her life during the preceding twenty-four hours. Now, her mind and heart were flooded. She thought of Rufus, the all- consuming power and passion with which he’d made love to her, and the unbelievable joy she’d known in his arms. She shivered when her mind focused on their parting and the chasm that she’d had no choice but to put between them. She thought of her grandfather’s loneliness, of the forty years during which he’d silently and stoically mourned the loss of such a powerful love, and she rejoiced in the healing knowledge that he deeply loved her, his only grandchild. It gave her a measure of peace that she couldn’t deny, in spite of her emotional turmoil about her son. About Rufus.

  She opened her apartment door to hear Jewel’s voice on her answering machine. Preston had fallen down the basement steps and injured himself and Rufus was with him at Children’s Hospital. Sheldon was with Jewel.

  Naomi didn’t question the rightness of it; she went immediately to the hospital and found Rufus in the waiting room, his long legs spread out in front of him and his forearms resting on his thighs. His surprise was obvious, and she could see that he tempered his pleasure at her having come to him.

  “I’m rather surprised to see you. I suppose Jewel called you.” He didn’t want her to think that he had asked his sister to notify her, and she understood his message.

  “Do you have any news?” He moved over so that she could sit beside him on the leather sofa.

  “Nothing yet, but I suspect he might have dislocated his shoulder; he was in terrible pain. It’s the first time he’s deliberately done what I told him not to do. Both of them seemed to resent my working this morning. I know it’s because I’ve been away so much recently, only three days between my New Orleans and West African trips. I shouldn’t have taken that assignment.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  She put a hand lightly on his arm. “You couldn’t have guessed what he would do, so don’t blame yourself.” She soothed him before quickly changing the subject. “You didn’t tell me whether you were satisfied with your trip.”

  No, he thought. I fell head over heels in love with you and couldn’t think of anything but you and how much I wanted you. Aloud he said, “I didn’t bring back the story that I went for. The real story isn’t the children in the street, though there certainly are some. I got a different story, one that my eyes wouldn’t let me leave without, and I checked it with short trips to three adjacent countries. P
overty, armed conflict, disease, and drought are at the bottom of just about everything that happens over there, including the problem of street children. And that’s my story. I got it in personal interviews with real people about the problems in their daily lives. I feel real good about it.”

  “I know it may not mean anything to you,” she told him, “but I’m so proud of you.”

  Rufus looked down at her, his mouth twisted in disbelief, almost angry. “Why shouldn’t it mean something to me?” he asked scornfully. “Do you think I made love to you without caring what you think of me?” He noticed the look of horror on her face and told himself to calm down. “Thanks.” It was grudgingly offered. “My publisher is making it the lead article, but he wants it next week, and I’m not going to abandon Preston for the sake of it.”

  “Are you going back to investigative journalism?” she asked, giving herself time to think.

  Rufus sighed deeply, indicating his impatience with the question. “Naomi, Preston almost broke his neck with me right there in the house. I’m not leaving them again until they’re old enough to play college basketball.”

  “Go ahead and write your story. I’ll stay with them while you work.”

  He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Are you sure you can handle being around me for any amount of time? I work all hours, night and day.” Rufus regarded her intently, pushing back the rising desire. He had made soul-shattering love with her, the most electrifying experience of his life, but he didn’t know her. He watched her squirm uncomfortably under his blatant scrutiny.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  He didn’t spare her. “When I wanted you to stay, you wouldn’t. And I wanted it badly. Now, you may suit yourself. If you stay, stay for Preston, because if you stay for me, be prepared to explain yourself. By that, I mean, lay all your cards on the table.”

  She rose to leave, and he would have let her if he hadn’t glimpsed again that grim, desolate look in her eyes, the same look she’d had the night before, when she’d left his house. He couldn’t bear to see her in pain; she was his first love, his only love, and his only thought then was to comfort and protect her. He stood quickly and pulled her gently into his arms. When he looked around, seeking privacy for them, he saw none, so he just held her to him, stroking her back slowly, trying to soothe her.

  “What is so awful and so powerful,” he began softly, “that it rules your life? When we met, you were laughing at life. What’s happened to make you so unhappy? I know that you care for me; why can’t you open up to me?”

  She shook her head slowly—in denial, he thought.

  “Oh, yes. You care, and I know it. You were in my arms, and I was inside your body. Remember?” He didn’t need her answer; the quickening of her body and her accelerated breathing were enough. He gazed down at her, cursing his powerful, uncontrollable response to her nearness.

  “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” he asked bitterly. “You either want to forget it or you’ve dismissed it. Why are you here, Naomi?”

  She raised troubled eyes to his, but she laid her shoulders back in graceful dignity and told him, “I thought you might need me. That’s all. If you do, just let me know and I’ll be there.”

  The doctor came in at that moment and settled the matter. Preston had a dislocated shoulder, a mild concussion, and bruises on an arm and leg. He would have to remain still and absolutely quiet.

  Naomi’s eyes pleaded with Rufus. “Let me help. Let me be with him while you work; I need to be with him, Rufus.” He was torn between his need to protect her, comfort her, and bind her to him and his fear that his children would become more deeply attached to her. She was asking him to let her care for his son; he could not have denied her anything.

  Naomi tried to make herself invisible to Rufus, spending her time with Preston and Sheldon. She had taken the guest bedroom, explaining to Rufus that unless and until she was able to sort out some personal problems they should avoid intimacies. He had accepted it, because it was what he felt, but both of them suffered and were unable to hide it.

  Rufus finished the article at about ten-thirty one night and couldn’t resist sharing his excitement with Naomi. He brought it to her in the living room, where she sat illustrating a story for the boys.

  “It’s finished, all printed out and ready to go.”

  Still holding her brushes, she glanced up at him, taking in the lines of exhaustion in his haggard face. “What’s finished?” Her heart was in her throat. Did this mean she had to leave? That she had to put the four glorious, idyllic days behind her and tackle the most difficult situation she would probably ever face?

  “My story—I’d like you to read it.” She put aside the illustrations, took the story from him, and began to read. By the time she finished, her face was bathed in warm tears; tears for the subjects of his interviews, for the magnitude of the problems that the people faced, and tears of joy for Rufus.

  “It is a masterpiece,” she whispered in awe. “I never imagined that your writing was so forceful, so powerful. I feel as if I know those people, as if I’ve been a part of their lives. It’s wonderful.” She walked over to him.

  “Congratulations!” Her hand delicately grazed his cheek, and she reached up and kissed him fleetingly. But he must have been hungry, for the moment she touched him, he became full aroused and brought her to him. His man’s scent, the feel of him, sent tremors through her, and her eyes glazed over as desire gripped her. The devil with her good intentions; he was hers to take, and she meant to have him. Right there. Right then. And as if to make certain that she didn’t change her mind, she made the most brazen gesture of her life, found him, and with exquisite, dazzling efficiency let him know that she remembered well what he had taught her only a week earlier. He uttered a tortured groan, the cry of a wounded animal, clamped his open mouth upon her parted lips, and surrendered to his passion.

  Rufus gripped her tightly as she moved against him, but he wouldn’t be rushed; gently and tenderly, he cherished her, worshipping her with sweet, fleeting kisses. She squeezed him to her, silently asking for more, but he refused to let the demands of his throbbing desire override his love for her.

  “Noomie! Noomie, Preston is crying,” Sheldon called from upstairs. She froze, and within seconds, was racing up the stairs.

  He stood where she’d left him, immobilized in the helpless clutch of passion. His first thought was that if she’d wanted him as badly as she’d pretended, she couldn’t have forgotten him in a second. Then he grimaced in self-disgust. Get a grip on yourself, man, he told himself, she responded the way you should have. She wanted him, all right, he acknowledged, and there was no better evidence of her feelings for his boys than the fact that she placed their needs above her own, above his.

  He got down on his haunches, took a few deep breaths to get his passion under control, and raced up the stairs.

  “What happened?”

  “Preston rolled over on his shoulder,” she told Rufus, still holding the boy, soothing him. Sheldon stood by with his little hand on her thigh, anxiously watching Preston.

  “Is he going to be okay, Noomie?” She hugged the child and gave him the answer that he needed.

  Rufus had remained in the doorway, watching Naomi love his sons. It occurred to him that Sheldon hadn’t called him, but Naomi, and suddenly he knew what he wanted, and he also knew that he stood a very real chance of never getting it. He swore softly. Why can’t she let me love her, protect her? he wondered. Even if she’s committed murder, even if she’s a fugitive, there would have to be good reasons. Can’t she see that I’m here for her? She sang both boys to sleep and then went into the guestroom and began to pack.

  She had been in his home for four days and nights and had scrupulously avoided any intimacy with him until he’d gone to her with his finished article. He
knew he could write, but her reverential tone when she appraised his work had heightened his sense of self, had been balm for his ego. She’d sat there reading his article, swinging her foot and alternately frowning, shaking her head and finally crying. Knowing that he’d moved her so deeply made him feel invincible, all- powerful.

  “Leaving? Tonight?”

  She looked at him and smiled weakly. “You don’t need me anymore, so I’d better catch up on things at home.”

  Rufus paced the room, fingering the evening stubble on his cheeks. He stopped and watched her. “I won’t argue with the last part of that sentence, but the first part is open to question.” He considered what good reasons she might have for rushing off. “How did your client like the logo you designed for their new perfume line?”

  “I didn’t finish it,” she said, barely loudly enough to be heard.

  “But you had a deadline, didn’t you?” Then he realized what she’d done. “You gave up that lucrative contract to…?” She turned away from him and continued packing.

  With the swiftness that had made him king of NFL wide receivers for five straight years, he was beside her. “Naomi, look at me. Look at me!” She shivered as he carefully forced her chin up, wanting to make her see in his eyes the overwhelming need he felt to hold her, to love her.

  Naomi didn’t expect love from Rufus and didn’t see it brimming in his eyes. She grabbed her coat and bag.

  “Let’s be in touch.” She avoided his eyes and walked toward the stairs. He caught her and loped down with her.

  “The boys will want to see you Christmas; I hope you’ll be able to make time for them.” What about you? her heart screamed.

  “I want to see them, too. If it’s all right, I’ll come over for a while.” She had to get out of there. Away from the stilted conversation that had no place between lovers; away from the man who possessed her heart and from whom she never wanted to be separated. She turned toward the door.