Picking up the damask napkin at her place setting, Crystal dabbed her eyes. “I… I just remember Daddy sit… sitting there and I don’t think it’s fair that someone else should sit there when…”
“When what?” Deborah asked.
“I understand where Crystal is coming from,” Asa said when the girl didn’t answer her mother’s query. “She feels betrayed because she believes I’m taking her father’s place.” He lowered his gaze, staring down at the tablecloth. He was so still he could have been carved from stone. A shuddering sigh escaped him. “I know how she feels to lose someone, because I lost my wife… and son… last year.” He registered a gasp, and knew it had come from Deborah. “I waited a long time to become a father, but I would only have Isaac for six years.”
Resting his elbows on the table, Whitney asked, “What happened to them?”
Pushing back his chair, Asa stood up and walked out of the dining room, then stopped. He didn’t move for several minutes, then returned and sat down again. “My wife had taken our son with her when she went Christmas shopping. She was on her way back home when it started sleeting. The road had become very icy and when she came around a sharp turn she lost control of her car, crashing through the guardrail and slamming into a tree. The car exploded into a fireball and they were unable to get out. The medical examiner used their dental records to confirm their identities.
“I’d stopped eating and sleeping, and there were times when I thought about taking my own life because I had nothing to live for. It would’ve been so easy to die by injecting myself with a double dose of morphine.”
“You’re a doctor?” Crystal whispered.
Asa nodded. “Yes, I am a doctor, and my brother was a doctor, as were my father and his father. I’d planned for my son to become the fourth generation Dr. Monroe, but it was not to be.”
“Why are you working in a bookstore instead of practicing medicine?” Whitney asked.
“I sold my home and my practice, because there was nothing for me in Delaware. It’s been more than a year and I still hurt. I don’t know whether I will ever stop hurting when I see a little boy my son’s age.”
“We miss our dad, too,” Whitney confessed. “We were lucky because our father was cool. Maybe it was because he taught at a high school, but he understood where kids were coming from. In fact, he was voted the most popular teacher for three consecutive years. Kids went to him instead of their guidance counselors when they had a problem.”
Deborah did not want to believe her children had opened up to Asa—a near stranger. And now she knew that whenever she’d glimpsed sadness in him it hadn’t come from his estrangement with his brother, but because he’d lost his wife and child. Now she understood what he’d meant when he said that although she’d lost her spouse she had her children. He, on the other hand, had lost his spouse and child.
“I came here today because your mother invited me. And I have no intention of replacing your father. I’ll be leaving Sanctuary Cove in a couple of months.”
Crystal sniffled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Monroe. I didn’t…”
“It’s okay, Crystal,” Asa said softly. “There’s no need to apologize.”
Whitney met his mother’s eyes. “I also apologize. Not for my sister but for having similar thoughts. We weren’t raised to be disrespectful, and I know we’re going to hear it once you leave. Although this is my Mom’s house I’d like you to come back and give us a second chance to show you that we do have home training.”
Asa smiled. “If your mother invites me back, then I will definitely come, if only to enjoy a home-cooked meal.”
A new and unexpected warmth eddied through Deborah when she met Asa’s gaze. Her son’s offer to invite him back was as shocking as Asa’s revelation that he was a widower. She’d assumed a soured relationship, even divorce. They’d worked closely together, talked about any and everything, yet he had given no indication that he’d recently lost his wife and child. In fact, he had revealed only that he was a doctor, had worked in a hospital, had been married, and didn’t have any children. She’d asked, and even though he hadn’t been forthcoming, he had been truthful.
Now she said, “We’ll talk about that later. Let’s say grace, then eat before everything gets cold.”
Asa bowed his head, as Deborah blessed the table. He picked up the platter of sliced turkey, holding it for Crystal while she speared several slices. He took some for himself, then handed the platter off to Whitney who held it for his mother, then served himself. The ritual continued until plates were filled, the food eaten then washed down with goblets of homemade brewed sweet tea and lemonade.
Asa took second helpings of everything, stating numerous times that Deborah had missed her calling and that she should have gone into the culinary arts. “Who taught you to cook?” he asked her.
Deborah set down her tea. “My grandmother.”
“Mom said our grandmother couldn’t cook until she took cooking courses,” Crystal blurted out. Crystal swallowed a forkful of stuffing. “I would never have somebody cook for me.”
“What if you had a career that took you away from home for days at a time? Or if you had to host a dinner party for twelve? Would you do your own cooking?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Probably.”
“I doubt it,” he said. “After standing on your feet for hours cutting, slicing, dicing, and checking meat for doneness, do you think you’d have enough energy to entertain your guests?”
“I don’t think so,” Whitney chimed in.
“Whitney’s right,” Asa concurred. “You wouldn’t. That’s why people have their parties catered. Perhaps you could be the one to cater the events, leaving the hosting to someone else. Have you ever considered going to culinary school?”
Crystal nodded with excitement.
“Where did you go to school, Mr. Monroe?” Whitney asked.
“Howard. Undergraduate and medical school.”
“I’ve been accepted at Howard,” Whitney said proudly.
“It’s an excellent school, Whitney.”
“That’s what my mom says.”
“Your mom is right.”
Deborah felt a rush of emotion she couldn’t explain. Whitney and Crystal were so comfortable with Asa and had told him things they never would have divulged to a stranger. She wanted Whitney to go to Howard and hoped that his conversation with Asa convinced him the school was the best college for his career choice.
Dinner became a leisurely affair, the quartet sitting at the table long after they’d eaten their fill. The discussion segued from college to the recent Super Bowl and high school sports. Whitney admitted to joining the basketball team because he needed another extracurricular activity.
When Deborah stood up to clear the table, Asa also stood. “Whitney and I will clean up.”
Whitney popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “Of course.”
Crystal placed a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. “That’s a first,” she whispered when they disappeared into the kitchen.
Deborah met her daughter’s eyes. “You can help me serve dessert as soon as the men are finished.”
Crystal leaned to her left. “I like him, Mom.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Monroe. He’s real nice.”
“That he is,” Deborah said in agreement. Crystal thought he was nice, the women who came into the bookstore thought he was nice, and she knew he was nice. Her feelings for him were growing stronger with each passing day. What she didn’t want was to rely on him for her emotional well-being because she would have him for a very short amount of time.
Deborah didn’t want to think of his pending departure as she invited everyone back into the kitchen for dessert. She brewed coffee for Asa and herself and filled glasses with ice-cold milk for Whitney and Crystal. Slices of pecan pie and sweet potato pie were topped with scoops of vanilla ice cream from De Fountain and dollops of fresh whipped cream.
Asa patted his flat belly. “I don’
t know how you guys stay so thin, but if I ate like this every Sunday I’d blow up like a blimp.”
Crystal drained her glass. “I burn a lot of calories cheerleading, and Whitney is on the basketball team. And Mom won’t let us eat fast food more than once a week.”
Asa gave Deborah a surreptitious wink. “That’s because fast foods are loaded with calories.”
Crystal nodded. “That’s what Mom says.”
“What position do you play?” Asa asked Whitney.
“Small forward.”
“How many points do you average per game?”
“Fifteen.”
Asa lifted his eyebrows. “Not bad.”
“I stink, Mr. Monroe. There are guys on the team who hit twenty to thirty points every game.”
Asa nodded, his expression serene. “Call me Asa. Those are the guys who, if they make it to Howard, will do so on an athletic scholarship. And who will have to be tutored in order to keep their scholarship. And if they’re lucky enough to make it to the NBA, will mess up off the court during their first season and all the practicing and tutoring will be for naught. I went to high school with a couple of guys who did make it to the NBA, and wound up with six kids and four baby mamas between them before they were twenty-five. One couldn’t stay away from the white powder and weed, and the other refused to go into alcohol rehab because he was in denial about his drinking problem.” Asa shook his head. “It was tragic, Whitney. They had so much natural talent, but it was wasted because their actions had dire consequences.”
Crystal stared at her brother. “I’m glad I’m not a boy.”
“Don’t start crowing, baby girl,” Deborah crooned. “Girls are not exempt from drugs, alcohol, and stair-step babies from a bunch of different baby daddies.”
“Like Doreena,” the teenagers said in unison.
“Let’s not repeat gossip.” Deborah chastised.
Crystal rolled her head. “It’s not gossip, Mom. Everyone in Charleston knows that she had babies from two brothers and their cousin. Kids call her Chuck Town Ho.”
“Crystal!”
“It’s true, Mom.”
Leaning back, Asa crossed one leg over the opposite knee. “Don’t mind me. I’ve heard worse.”
Deborah held her forehead. What was she going to do with her daughter other than love her? And Asa appeared to enjoy her kids’ antics. Reaching across the table, she removed plates, forks, and glasses, stacking them in the dishwasher. She turned it on.
“Asa, do you want me to pack up some leftovers for you?”
“But of course. I’ll take a little of everything.”
Whitney and Crystal stood up, Asa rising with them. They thanked him for coming for dinner. Whitney, after extracting a promise from Asa that he would come back again, dropped an arm over his sister’s shoulder and led her out of the kitchen.
“Mom, we’re going to Angels Landing to hang out at Simeon’s house for a while,” Whitney called out.
“Don’t come home too late.”
“We won’t,” they chorused.
“You have great kids,” Asa said when he and Deborah were alone.
“Even with my daughter going off on you?”
Asa walked over, stood behind Deborah and rested his hands on her shoulders. “It was understandable.”
Deborah looked up at him over her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d lost your wife and son?”
“You didn’t ask.” Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to the column of her scented neck. “How can I thank you for the best day I’ve had in more than a year?”
“Just say thank you.”
He chuckled. “That’s not enough.”
Deborah turned until they were facing each other. “What else is there?”
Asa angled his head, his mouth covering hers in an explosive joining that weakened her knees, forcing her to hold on to him to keep her balance. Her fingers caught the front of his shirt, tightening as her lips parted.
Anchoring her arms under his shoulders, she went on tiptoe to get even closer. Her breathing quickened, her breasts grew heavy, and the area between her thighs was moist and throbbing, reminding her how long it had been since she’d had sex.
Deborah wanted Asa. She wanted to be in his bed and with him inside her. But somewhere between sanity and insanity, she surfaced from the sensual fog clouding her brain and regained her common sense.
“No, Asa.” The protest came out weak.
“Come home with me, baby. I need to hold you, taste you. I have protection.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“I’ll bring you back before your children return.”
Breathing through parted lips, Deborah felt slightly lightheaded. “It’s not about them.”
Asa pressed his mouth to the side of her neck again as if he wanted to sink his teeth into her skin. There were other places on her body on which he could feast that would remain hidden to everyone except her. The thought made her blush.
“What is it about, then?” he asked, rousing Deborah from her thoughts.
“Asa, when we make love I want to savor the moment. I want to give you my undivided attention without having to rush.”
He smiled. “When?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll come before noon and stay until it’s time for me to pick up Crystal from school. I’d promised to take her shopping for the school’s Valentine’s Day dance.”
Asa’s hand caressed her back in a circular motion as he stared at her mouth. Her thoroughly kissed lips felt fuller. He nodded his approval, then watched as she packed plastic containers with food, then stacked them neatly in a shopping bag.
He took the bag, his eyes seemingly searching her face. She’d pulled her hair back in a chignon; giving him an unobstructed view, highlighting her sprinkling of freckles and high cheekbones.
“I’ll walk you out,” Deborah said with a mysterious smile. They left the brick-walled kitchen and walked down the narrow hall that led past the dining room and into the living room. She stood on the porch, watching as Asa got into the Range Rover and slowly backed out of her driveway. Lifting her hand, she waved to him. She wasn’t disappointed when he put his hand out the window and returned her wave. She stood there a long time, staring at the space where his truck had been, then turned and went back into the house.
“I’m falling in love with him,” she whispered. She was falling in love with a man she’d known a month—with whom she shared a similar fate. Both had loved and lost, but with Asa the loss was more complete.
Deborah, although knowing he was going to leave Sanctuary Cove, had agreed to sleep with him. She was a thirty-eight-year-old widow with two teenaged children and she was about to embark on a short-lived affair with a transient widower. Neither of them were kids, so there wouldn’t be any promises of a commitment or declarations of love. They would enjoy their time together and when it ended they would be left with memories of the time they shared.
Chapter Eighteen
Deborah got out of the car, carrying her handbag and another larger bag filled with several changes of clothes and toiletries. She’d managed to finish cleaning her house by the time Whitney and Crystal left for school. Dusting, vacuuming, and changing beds had kept her busy so she wouldn’t have to think about what would happen once she arrived at the bookstore. She was filled with nervous energy as she stopped to deposit her weekly receipts, before driving the short distance to the lot behind the store.
The back door opened and Asa smiled down at her. “Hey, beautiful.”
Deborah returned his smile and, rising on tiptoe, brushed her mouth over his. “Hey yourself.”
He took the bags, then closed and locked the door behind her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Asa pulled Deborah close. “Let me escort you up to the penthouse.”
Deborah giggled like a schoolgirl. “How are the views?”
“They’re all right.”
“Just all right, Asa?”
His hand moved from
her waist to her backside. “This view is a lot better,” he crooned in her ear.
Her free hand went to his tight butt in a pair of relaxed jeans. “And this one isn’t too bad either.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
Deborah laughed again. “My hands have special powers.”
“Ah-h! So, my girl is a superhero.”
“Super heroine, thank you very much.”
Asa set the bag on the floor, then bending at the knees scooped Deborah up in his arms and carried her up the staircase and over to the bed. He placed her gently on the mattress, his body following hers down. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he covered her like a warm blanket. “Are you okay?”
“I’m wonderful. You know, you’re good for me.”
“Why is that, baby?”
“Because you make me laugh. I’ve laughed more with you in the past couple of weeks than I have in months. And you make me feel like a woman. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt that way.”
No more words followed; only the sound of measured breathing could be heard in the room. The lowered blinds only allowed for slivers of light to slip through the slats covering the windows.
Deborah turned on her side to face Asa. “I can’t promise—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, placing a finger on her lips. “Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. I don’t want any promises.”
“What do you want, Asa?”
“I don’t want yesterday or tomorrow. I want right now. I’m sorry but that is all I can offer you.”
“Why are you always apologizing?” she asked him.
Asa sat up and straddled her. “I find myself doing that a lot with you.”
Deborah closed her eyes when she felt his hands brush her breasts, and then slowly unbutton her blouse. She heard his intake of breath when he stared at her breasts in her sheer bra, the color of café con leche. It seemed like an eternity before he removed each article of her clothing, until she lay completely naked.
She watched him undress, removing his shirt, jeans, and briefs and throwing them in a pile with hers at the foot of the bed. Asa’s clothes had concealed a lean, hard body that belied his age. A light dusting of hair covered his broad chest, and her gaze travelled downward to his flat belly, on to the inverted triangle where his semi-erect penis hung heavily between his thighs. The side of the mattress dipped as he slid in beside her, his hand going under the pillow to retrieve a condom. He quickly opened the packet and slipped on the latex sheath.
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