by Wayne Jordan
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk to the door by yourself?”
“A smart one,” came her quick retort.
“Then we would have to conclude that I’m not too smart. You did always outperform me at school and you were a whole year younger.”
She smiled, her face softening for the first time that evening.
“It’s good to see you smile. You don’t smile as often as you used to.”
“Those were different days, when I thought I didn’t have a care in the world. I had to grow up.”
He didn’t respond, didn’t know what to say. Maybe what she said was true. They’d both grown up.
When they reached the patio, he stopped, watching her walk to the door.
She put the key in the lock and turned to him. “Thanks for being understanding about this situation. I haven’t even told you how sorry I am. I did what I thought was best at the time.”
She opened the door, but before she entered she turned to him. For a moment time stopped, and they were teenagers again, the memory of their first kiss vivid.
He stepped onto the patio, stopping when he stood before her.
He glanced at her lips. She glanced at his.
He lowered his head, she raised hers.
His lips touched hers tentatively, softly. He groaned, his need to be touched by her making his legs weak.
His placed his hand at the back of her neck and pulled her to him gently, loving the feel of her softness pressed against him.
She tasted like honey, just as he remembered.
His tongue slipped between her lips and into the sweetness. At first he kissed her gently, probing with his tongue, but then he sucked on her tongue hungrily, wanting more of her.
His free hand shifted upward, cupping one firm breast.
And then she pulled away, her breath coming in short, erratic spasms.
“I can’t do this,” she gasped.
She pushed the door open, leaving him standing there, his erect penis pressing painfully against his zipper.
He turned around and walked toward his car.
Tonight had been unexpected, but he now knew something. He was as much in love with her today as he had been thirteen years ago.
Chapter 11
By the time Rachel took a shower, Gregory was already in his room. She’d planned on waiting until tomorrow, but then she decided to get it over with.
She knocked on his door and waited until he said to come in. He was a boy and needed some measure of privacy. She didn’t want any surprises.
He was sitting on the bed reading. He had a laptop that he used only for schoolwork. He didn’t care much for the social aspect of the computer and for that she was glad. However, she did fear the time he’d start asking her about the facts of life. But with George about to step into his life, that wouldn’t be too much of a problem.
He rested the book on the bed when she sat.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but I need to talk to you about something important.”
“What is it?”
She hesitated. She wasn’t even sure what to say. She sent a silent word heavenward.
She breathed in deeply.
“It’s about the man who came to visit your grandmother yesterday. He had invited me out on a date. Would you have a problem with that?” she asked.
He looked up at her, his eyes wary.
“He likes you?” he asked.
“We’re just friends. He was my boyfriend years ago.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I think it’ll be okay if you go.”
“Thanks, honey. Sometimes he’s going to invite you along too.”
At that he shrugged. “I guess that’s okay too.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she told him finally.
He closed his book and placed it on the dresser.
“I think I’m going to bed now. I’m tired,” he said quietly.
She rose from the bed and bent to kiss him. He placed his arms around her and hugged her tightly.
When he took his arms from around her, he smiled and said, “I love you.”
“Love you, honey,” she replied.
She left the room and headed downstairs where she knew her mother was waiting.
“So how did it go?” Grace asked.
“It went better than I expected, on both counts.”
“What about Gregory?”
“I told him George and I will be going out sometimes. He took it better than I thought. George and I decided that we’ll wait until he gets accustomed to having him around before we tell him.”
“That may be the best way to deal with this. Gregory will be okay. You send a prayer heavenward later and ask Him to work it out.”
“I’ll do that, Mom. I think I’m going to go up to bed.”
“Your side is okay?”
“Yes, I may have done a bit too much today, but it’s not bad. A bit sore.”
“You go on up. I’ll stay downstairs. I have to call Marjorie. I promised I’d call her back so I know I’m in for a long conversation, but I don’t mind. I have some gossip of my own to share.”
She walked over to Rachel and kissed her on the cheek.
“Sleep well, honey.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. And no staying up too late talking on the phone.”
“I promise,” she replied, smiling.
Rachel left as her mother reached to pick up the phone.
In her room, she stripped, put on a nightie and reached in the top shelf of her cupboards to retrieve the photo album.
She took it down, holding it as if it were some precious treasure.
She sat on the carpet of her room, opening the album.
As she looked at the photos, vivid memories came back as if it were yesterday. She smiled. She’d given George a run for his money. It had taken him weeks for her to agree to go out with him, but she’d enjoyed the courtship, if you could call it that.
It had taken another few weeks before they’d made love and she’d been the one to push for it. At that time they’d both been virgins, something about him that had surprised her.
She looked at a photo of him running along a beach on the east coast of the island. She remembered that day clearly. They’d gone driving and parked the car and walked along the beach. The rain has started to fall, the beach was bare and they’d stripped and made love with the rain falling gently around them.
It had been crazy, exciting, passionate, sandy lovemaking. He’d made love to her with a desperation she could not understand. Two months later, their relationship had ended. Another month later, she was pregnant. Though they’d made love after that day, she knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, Gregory had been conceived that night.
That night, at home, she’d felt the first stirring of life. Impossible, people would say, but she’d known.
She closed the album, feeling the unexpected tears.
Those memories were part of the fantasy world she lived in as a teenager and in her early twenties.
Those days were long gone. The day she’d realized she was pregnant was the day she’d grown up and stepped into the real world. No fanciful romance for her—that had been confirmed when George had told her she was no longer part of his future.
* * *
The next day at work George called one of his colleagues into his office. While his chat with Rachel had been promising, he needed to make sure that things were in place in case he had problems.
Although he didn’t want to share his personal business, he trusted Brian Marshall enough to talk to him.
“You have a what?”
“A son. That’s what I said the first time.”
“Okay, okay, I know, but a son? I didn’t know you had kids.”
“I didn’t either, but now I know. What I want is for you to take care of the paperwork for me. I want joint custody. I’m just getting the information ready, but I’m not going to do anything about it until I see what’s going to happen. For now things are pleasant, but you know how women are.”
“I know. Remember, I’m paying alimony.”
“I forgot. How are the boys doing?”
“They are doing fine. Their mother is doing better than I am. She’s not working and getting a full salary.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She has been pretty good about the boys and visitation. I get them all weekend. They’re adjusting, so it’s definitely workable. However, I believe you need to do things the right way. I’ll start drawing up the forms and you’ll just need to put in the important information.”
“Okay, but I still want you to hold off a bit.”
“Okay, you’re a lawyer too, so you must know what you’re doing. Just know that your suggestion is in dispute. I’ve known too many people who make the mistake of not protecting themselves and then have to deal with serious consequences. If you were my lawyer, what would you do?”
George thought about it. It was true, he would have advised a client to proceed.
“Okay, give me a week and then you can go ahead.”
“Good—that sounds better. If I don’t hear anything from you, I’ll go ahead and file them. I’ll send the forms down and you can fill them out and leave them on my desk before you leave work.”
“Thanks. I’m glad for the advice.”
“What are friends for?”
When Brian walked out of his office, it took a while for him to reassure himself that he was doing the sensible thing. But he was dealing with Rachel.
The same Rachel who’d left without letting him know about his child.
He glanced at his watch and realized it was almost seven o’clock. He needed to head to the gym and then he’d finish his preparation for the trial at home. The gym was the perfect place to stop his obsessing about his situation.
* * *
On his way home from the gym, George dialed Shayne’s number and waited for him to answer.
“Yes, George. What can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to you about something important.”
“George, it’s after eleven o’clock. Carla and the kids are sleeping.”
“I’m sorry, Shayne. It’s really, really important.”
“Okay, I’ll be downstairs on the patio.” The call disconnected.
When he pulled into the driveway ten minutes later, a single light illuminated the patio. Shayne stood there.
Parking the car next to Shayne’s SUV, he alighted and walked toward his friend.
He wasn’t even sure why he was here.
He sat immediately, waiting for Shayne to sit.
“So what’s going on, bro?”
He wasn’t sure where to begin but then decided to get straight to the point.
“I have a son.”
Shayne jumped up. “You have a what?”
“Son.”
“How the hell did you get a son? You knew about this?”
“No, just found out a few days ago.”
Shayne paused as if thinking.
“Who’s his mother? Rachel?”
“Yes. He’s twelve years old.”
“Twelve years?” he said, nodding. “Is that why she left?”
“Yes. And didn’t say a word. She could have told me.”
“She could have, but you did make quite clear the path you wanted your life to take.”
“I don’t care about that. She should have told me.”
“I beg to differ, but then you’ve never wanted to take responsibility for your part in this.”
“My responsibility?”
“Yes, your responsibility. You dumped the girl. You seduced her, made her your girl and then dumped her when you felt she was a burden.”
George didn’t know what to say. To say he was shocked was an understatement.
“I’m sorry to be harsh, but I’m really tired of you blaming Rachel for what happened. I’m not saying that it was right not to tell you, but I don’t think it was wrong based on the circumstances. What did you expect her to do? Run back to you and beg even more? In her position, I would have done the same thing.”
George stood. He wasn’t sure what to say. Shayne’s words hurt, but he knew why they hurt. They were the truth. He’d justified what he had done over the years by blaming her for running away and denying that the whole cycle would not have started if he had not ended the relationship.
He walked to the left side of the patio and looked into the darkness, seeing only the blurred silhouette of trees in the distance.
Slowly he turned, walking back to stand next to Shayne.
“Thanks, Shayne. I probably needed to hear that. I remember telling Rachel years ago that I’d be willing to change if she went out with me. You’ve made me realize something. I haven’t changed much in thirteen years. I’m still an arrogant son of a bitch.”
“God, George, you can’t compare yourself with the man you were years ago. Yes, you’re still arrogant and think you’re the sexiest man in the gym. But there are good things about you. Good traits each of us has, has always had. Maybe that’s why we’re still good friends. But it doesn’t mean we can’t see the flaws in each other and do something about it.”
“I think I’ve really messed up with Rachel.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe she still loves you. How do you feel about her?”
“I know I still love her. I don’t know if it’s like it was before. It feels different. Like I’m not that boy anymore, but still him.”
“A bit profound, but I think I understand what you mean.”
“I know I’m still attracted to her. I still want her. Is this what being in love is like? You must know. You and Carla, Troy and Sandra. I look at you all when you’re together and it’s like… I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Then open yourself to the possibilities. You don’t know what’s in store for you and Rachel. Maybe the two of you needed the time away from each other. You’re now mature enough to appreciate what true love is.”
“Boy, I can see what love and marriage have done to you. You sound like you could write a romance novel.”
“Maybe. I know I love Carla, and it’s not because she’s beautiful or intelligent or witty. I just know right here,” he said pressing his right hand against his heart.
George moved closer to his friend and touched him on the shoulder.
“You know I couldn’t want better friends than you and Troy. The three of us have always been good friends.”
“I know, bro. Both of you helped me when my parents died and I had to deal with being a brother, father and mother to Russell and Tamara.”
“You know what, Shayne? I know I want that forever with Rachel. I’m just going to have to work hard to win her trust and love again.”
Minutes later, as he drove onto the street, the burden weighing him down had lifted. A calmness had settled over him—not the calmness he enforced, but one that came from a sense of expectancy.
Tonight would be the first night since that day he’d seen Rachel in the courthouse that he would have a good night’s sleep.
* * *
At home George searched in his mother’s room for the box of photos he’d found when he’d sold the house and her things. He carried the box to his room, spreading more than thre
e hundred photos on the bed. These photos represented his life and he looked at them with critical eyes.
One of the things he noticed was that he laughed a lot. Of all of his friends, he was the least serious, the most fun-loving.
He’d always been the one to cheer his friends up when they were in the dumps.
He remembered clearly the night Shayne had received the call about his parents’ accident. George had rushed over to the plantation house, and he and Troy had tried to help his best friend through that heartbreaking period. The Knight Plantation had always been like a second home and they had spent many weekends and summer holidays there. Shayne’s parents’ death had hurt him a lot, but he’d known at the time that Shayne would need his support even more.
One day, Shayne had been a teenager without a care in the world. The next day, he’d become the guardian for his younger brother and sister.
Shayne had immediately dropped out of university and taken over the running of the plantation and the household. He’d been a good father to his siblings.
Photos of George’s teen years brought back memories. A photo of Rachel, her short afro, her unexpected smile transforming her into the person he had known…and loved.
When he’d first met her, he wondered if she ever smiled, but then he had discovered her wry sense of humor.
He planned on making things up to her. He would die doing it.
An ache sharper than any he’d experienced gripped him and his desire to know his son was even stronger. He hated having to wait, but he respected Rachel’s wishes. Her assessment of the situation was correct and he knew waiting to let Gregory know was for the better.
He had to take his time, let his son get accustomed to him. He didn’t want to rush and ruin things. If he did, he could lose his son even before he gained him.
* * *
Across the island, Rachel was troubled by her own conflicting emotions. Although her talk with George had gone well, she wasn’t sure if she trusted him. The situation between them was too fragile, too potentially volatile, but for now she hoped he’d do the right thing. Her only concern in this situation was Gregory and how discovering who his father was would affect him.