As expected, Miss Vera was sitting on the veranda in her floral yard dress, her hair tied with a matching head wrap. Miss June was sitting beside her. They were having their usual evening conversation.
Lisa felt a pang of regret that she had prepared so thoroughly for this meeting. She had driven a black Mercedes, Ricky's town car. She had also dressed like a million bucks; she knew she looked good.
Gawjus. She smiled slightly at Eva's voice in her head when she exited the car.
Miss Vera had been in mid-speech. She stood up and then sat down as Lisa approached the walkway.
Miss June was bug-eyed with wonder.
"June, tell me that's not Chubs."
"It looks like Lisa," Miss June said. "Sophisticated…You can't call her Chubs now."
Lisa stopped by the steps and removed her shades. "Miss Vera. Miss June. How are you? I came to get my box."
"Ah," Miss Vera opened her mouth, "Lisa?"
"Yes," Lisa nodded. "My box, please."
"You haven't even inquired after me," Vera wailed. "Why are you acting so cold, Lisa dear?"
"Dear?" Lisa's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. "You have never called me dear before."
"And she did inquire," Miss June said, grinning. "I am fine, Lisa. Thanks for asking. And how are you?"
"Lovely." Lisa spared a smile for Miss June.
"Let me go and get the box." Miss Vera said, eyeing the car and Lisa before she hurried inside.
Miss June chuckled. "She had the police come and chuck out Desmond and his brood three weeks ago. They were eating her out of house and land and breaking her plates and disrespecting her in her own home.
"One night, Desmond's lady, Racquel, locked Vera out of the house; said she was too miserable. Racquel refused to open the door, and it was raining. Vera slept on the veranda.
Lisa laughed. "Poetic justice."
"That's what I told her." Miss June snickered. "I even said, ‘At least you had the veranda; Lisa had nowhere to go and nobody to go to.’"
Lisa nodded. "That's right."
Miss Vera came panting with the box.
Lisa took it from her with ease. It was a medium-sized box. She placed it on the steps, rummaged around in it, and found her documents blessedly intact.
She pulled out her checkbook. It was still new and stiff. This would be her first check drawn on her checking account.
"What's the cost for the rent of the box and what would you estimate was the cost for you to take care of me for thirteen years?"
Miss Vera looked from Lisa to the checkbook, a look of awe on her face.
"But Lisa, I would never even think of charging you for something that I had such joy in doing."
Miss June cleared her throat.
"Where did you get your money from, Lisa?" Miss Vera asked. "I know Back Road can't be paying so well."
Lisa smiled. "I found my true family. You were right. Your little story about Nadine switching her baby for me at the hospital was spot on. How much?"
"But...but...who are they?" Miss Vera stammered.
"You didn't care to find out all those years ago," Lisa pointed out. "It shouldn't matter now."
She pushed the box over to Miss Vera. "I don't need that anymore. Could you dispose of it for me, please?"
She wrote a check for a sizable sum because Miss Vera was still looking stunned and hadn't responded.
She handed it to her.
"Thank you for not putting me on the streets when I was too young to manage. For that you deserve my gratitude. Goodbye Miss Vera, the best of health and life to you."
Miss Vera looked down on the check and gasped.
"Goodbye Miss June."
She walked down the walkway for good this time. She had no idea if she would ever darken Miss Vera's door again.
Miss Vera shouted. "Chubs, Lisa, come back!"
She didn't even look behind when she drove away, almost overshooting the intersection as adrenalin pumped through her body. She had one more stop to make on this her day of laying it all to rest.
Nathan helped the guy load the piano into the delivery truck. He had gotten the Portmore house sold rather quickly. The price had been more than fair and he had sold it furnished.
He didn't want even a memento. His father hardly spent time there anyway. His only takeaway from the place was the baby grand piano that his stepmother's sister had asked him for.
And he would deliver it and then he would go home and watch cricket. He was dreading the moments when the IPL would be over because then he would have to think. And feel. And forgive.
He wanted her back. He missed her fiercely; it was like an ache. It wasn't going away. His anger had gone a long time ago. Especially after he accepted the fact that Lisa had not slept with his dad.
That was the point. She had been desperate and that was what she did. He could live with it. He had been the first man to kiss her; he would be the first man to love her. Pride and hurt feelings were lonely bedfellows. He wasted four weeks of his life without her. As soon as he delivered this piano it was a go. He was going to Treasure Beach. He was going to tell her he was sorry and beg her to take him back.
That's how much he ached.
He went back to the house to lock the door, not paying attention to the wolf whistles that the two men were making behind him. When he turned around, he almost stumbled on the steps.
It was Lisa. Not the fresh-faced, beach-tousled Lisa that he had become so familiar with but a sophisticated woman in a red suit that fit her like a second skin, and she slowly took off her shades—well, it seemed slow to him.
The wind lifted the curls from her face.
She leaned on the car and started chewing on the end of her glasses and inside him melted. She was nervous.
God, so was he.
He headed for her.
"Tell her we are driving out now," one of the guys said and winked at him. "Nice lady you have there, Mr. Cross."
"Thank you." Nathan nodded. And she was his lady.
He stopped almost at her feet. "Hello Lisa."
"Hi." Her eyes darkened. "I didn't know you were here. I, er, I came here to...to... it’s hard to explain."
Nate understood. "You came to say goodbye to the dark memories."
"Yes." Lisa nodded.
"You’ll have to move your car," Nate came closer to her, "but don't drive away. We need to talk."
"Yes." She swallowed and got into the vehicle, driving it up to allow the truck to back out. After the truck's noisy exit, Nate looked at Lisa.
"I missed you like crazy these couple of weeks. I was going to come back to Treasure Beach tonight. Say sorry. Ask you to start over with me, if you'll have me."
"Really?" Lisa croaked. "What about the whole prostitute thing?"
"Not relevant. Not anymore. It is no fun being angry over something that you didn't do." Nate walked closer to her until they were nose to nose. "I am of the opinion that God preserved you for me."
Lisa smiled. "Really now."
Nathan locked his fingers with hers. "I am not making any promises, Lisa Barclay, because the future is not a surety, but I am feeling the forever vibe with you."
"Scarlett," Lisa murmured before he lowered his lips to hers. "It's Lisa Scarlett."
The End
Author's Notes
Dear Reader,
THANK YOU for reading Scarlett Promise! The fifth book in the Scarlett Series. As usual I had fun spending time in the Scarlett World. If you noticed, this book is the only Scarlett book that was set almost entirely in the lovely Treasure Beach area. Though some of the places are fictionalized. I must tell you that Pelican Bar is not. It is a real place in the middle of the sea and a fun place to visit if you ever find yourself in Jamaica's south side.
There are two more books to go in this series. SCARLETT BRIDE and SCARLETT HEART.
If you enjoyed this book please consider leaving a review.
You can scroll down for an excerpt from the book SCARLETT
BRIDE.
Thanks again. All the best,
Brenda
Here is an excerpt from
SCARLETT BRIDE
"Look at her, Oliver. Seriously, take a look." David whispered loud enough for Ashaki—who was arranging the medical supplies—to look across at them and give one of her shy smiles.
She had perfect white teeth, dark red almost black lips, a straight as an arrow nose and deep set almost sultry eyes.
She was a striking looking girl. Oliver could understand why David found her so attractive. For the past eighteen months since they were stationed at the mission base in Kidogo, she was a constant source of fascination for his friend.
And to a lesser extent him, if he was to be honest—not because he was attracted to her as David so obviously was but because in a village of nearly two hundred natives she was exceptional.
She spoke English almost without an accent, which was probably due to the missionaries who were in the village on an off for the last six years since the last great war. She also spoke French flawlessly as well as fluent Swahili and Lingala.
She was a great help to all the doctors at the clinic sometimes working as a translator, and doing basic nurse work. She was an intelligent and intuitive girl and she knew David had an obvious crush on her.
Like now as soon as he walked in for the morning shift her posture changed. She started acting shy, unlike the confident girl who had teased him just an hour ago about his rusty French and his very poor Swahili. She kept shooting them little shy glances and then turning away jerkily as if she didn't know what to do with herself.
Oliver allowed himself a smile, Ashaki only got that way when David was around. He used to tease her about it but now he just felt sorry for her situation. David and Ashaki would never be a thing.
They had to relegate themselves to admiring glances across the crowded clinic. She was promised to chief Bekele, a marriage that would take place as soon as the chief recovered from his unfortunate boat accident that had rendered him useless below the waist for the time being and David was still married he was undergoing a messy divorce which was the impetus for him taking the missionary job in the first place.
"She could walk the runways anywhere in the world and make a ton of money." David kept up his running commentary in Oliver's ear as he headed for the small break room where they were a few lockers for both nurses and doctors.
"Look at her statuesque, with matt perfect skin that does not need a lick of makeup. She is getting prettier every day."
Oliver opened his locker and put down his stethoscope wearily. He rubbed his eyes. He was bone tired. He hated the night shift, especially when half of his patients had malaria. He glanced at David.
"I see her every single day and she looks the same to me. You my friend are obsessed."
"Oh yes." David savored his words. "Obsession but that's not a medical condition is it, Doc?"
"No," Oliver shrugged off his white coat and put it in the clothes hamper, "but fever is and not of the malarial kind. You have jungle fever."
Oliver pulled on his long sleeved white tshirt and headed for the small canteen area adjacent to the locker room.
David shrugged on his white jacket quickly and followed behind him. How many times do I have to tell you I am mixed race. I have a black grandparent. I am not fully white. So technically I don't have jungle fever."
"Yes." Oliver grinned, "you inform me of that every day but you have green eyes and sandy blond hair. A DNA test is in order for that claim to pan out."
Oliver took out a pack of tea bags from the cupboard and paused. He had taken to sharing the different flavored teas with Ashaki after his shift was over so that she could taste the different flavors.
He enjoyed seeing her eyes light up when she tried something new.
He had grown accustomed to talking to her after his shift. They had a routine. He realized belatedly. And this routine would be over in just under a month.
He was going home soon. He felt a sharp feeling of homesickness when he thought about it. His time in the Congo was anything but boring and he had learned a lot, but home was where he really wanted to be—not home in the States where his mother lived now but home in Jamaica.
He was seriously considering the offer to go into private practice with doctor Levy in Junction. It was close to his brother, Reuben and his other family members at Treasure Beach. It would be a welcome change of pace than he was accustomed in the Congo. He now understood why the Hands for Hope Mission recycled missionary doctors every two years. This place was a burn-out-zone for even the most zealous bright-eyed medic.
"Hey," David, snapped his fingers in front of his face. "You falling asleep standing?"
"No." Oliver blinked. "Just thinking."
David put on the kettle. "I have been thinking too…For a while now about the Ashaki problem."
"Ashaki problem?" Oliver cleared his throat. "What problem?"
"Man," David ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "We can't let her marry that old guy—the chief. She cannot be that man's fourth wife."
"I am too sleepy for this," Oliver murmured.
"Just hear me out." David spread his arms beseechingly. "She is too good for here. Yes, I have a crush on her but think about it, Oliver. She speaks a couple of languages fluently. She is extremely bright. She reads my medical texts and understands them. I think if she had the chance she could be a doctor or who knows? She would never get that chance here. Besides, she looks like a chocolate dream."
"Chocolate dream?" Oliver grinned. "I hear you."
"If she stays." David did not join him in laughing, he was serious, his face creased into worry lines. "If she stays her life will be wasted. Think about it. She has no ties here. Her father died of tuberculosis. Her whole family was killed in the war. She is at the mercy of the village chief. Imagine, her in four years, if she lives. She is eighteen now and looks young and carefree but all her spark will be gone soon, all that potential wasted away. All that..."
Oliver sighed, interrupting David's passionate speech. "I know. I feel it for her. She is special all right but there are hundreds of women like her scattered across this country. What am I to do about it?"
"I don't want you to do anything about the hundreds of women who we do not know." David raised his sandy eyebrows at Oliver. "I want you to do something about Ashaki."
"What?" Oliver felt the first steamy effect of the heat on his upper lip. Already the day was shaping up to be a scorcher, he could feel the slight warmth through the window. Even though the whole mission compound was solar powered and the air conditioners were usually kicking in the day, he could feel the heat already.
David folded his arms. "You don't have a secret girlfriend stashed somewhere, do you Oliver?"
"No." Oliver shrugged. "I had no time for relationships, you know that. You teased me about it in school."
"I am sorry about that," David said sheepishly. "I should have followed your advice and not get married in med school. Now I have a divorce on my hands."
"What's the point of this, David?" Oliver asked impatiently. "I need some shut eye."
"Well," David lowered his voice, "because I am already married. Technically I can't help Ashaki out of her predicament. If she could marry someone..."
"No." Oliver turned to the stove and turned off the kettle. "No. No. No. I know where this is going and the answer is hell no."
"I thought you liked her," David said his voice wheedling.
"Yes." Oliver nodded. "Sure. I guess. But marriage? No thanks. I am not ready for marriage."
"At least consider it." David urged. "And think about it, you don't have to sleep with her or anything, you just need to marry her, get her out of the country. When my divorce is finalized I'll come and take her off your hands. What can be simpler?"
"Who is on duty?" Sally, the clinic's head doctor, stuck her head in the break room, "I have an emergency, villager, breach birth."
Oliver looked at David
in relief. "Your call, Dr. Wheeler. I am going to drink this tea and then head to the dorm and sleep until lunch."
David nodded. "Have a good rest. Think about what I said, hmmm."
Oliver shook his head. "What you are proposing is crazy."
"Come on, a lady is dying here!" Sally bellowed at David as he paused to reply.
"I am coming!" David growled. "I'll come and check you at lunch." He pointed at Oliver. He hurried off behind Sally but looked behind to say. "By then you'll be well rested."
Oliver shrugged. He doubted that. He wasn't going to marry Ashaki Azanga just because she was pretty and intelligent and had potential. Her fate, her destiny was here as the chief's fourth wife, living in the Democratic Republic of Congo.
He looked through the window at the vast greenery that surrounded the dusty thatched huts in the distance. He had done his duty where saving people were concerned—Hundreds of lives saved in his short time at Kidogo. Oliver thought bleakly.
At first he had no idea how demanding the job would be. The Congo was a country still recovering from civil war and skirmishes both in the country and at the borders. The UN soldiers did a good job of guarding this village but he had seen and heard the very real stories of deprivation and devastation visited on the survivors of the war.
Every day there was something new and astonishing or life threatening. He looked through the window as he got a mug to steep the tea in. The clinic was surrounded by chain link fence with rolled barbed wire at the front.
The compound had a church, a school and the dorm room type housing where the missionaries slept. Quite a few missionaries were stationed in Kidogo. Doctors, teachers, human aide workers who used Kidogo as a base. This village was where the paved road stopped; roads in the Congo region were as scarce as hens teeth. The rest of the main road which headed into the dense forest area in the the distance was a dirt track.
Scarlett Promise (The Scarletts Page 16