Dream Keeper (Indigo)

by Gail McFarland

  “Dude.” Dench moved his untasted bottle and almost smiled. “You’re in the doghouse with Marlea?”

  Half standing, AJ froze. “Why?”

  “For one thing, you were hiding out down here in the dark when I showed up. No shoes, shirttail hanging halfway out, and I know you’ve got food in the house, but you want to go out.” Dench snorted, and the smile finally broke through. “It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

  “Whatever.”

  “That’s a girl answer.”

  “You sound like Jabari. Give me a minute.” AJ shook his head as he climbed the stairs, retracing his earlier steps. He was glad not to run into his wife when he walked into the master suite. Changing into jeans, finding shoes and his other sock, he dressed quickly. Collecting his wallet and cellphone, he had a second thought and reached into a drawer for a T-shirt. Dench could use the change.

  Walking back into the game room, he tossed the shirt and Dench caught it one-handed. “You trying to tell me something?”

  “Yeah.” AJ nodded. “You’re looking rough, dude. I thought the change might do you good.”

  Dench looked down at himself, pulled at his shirt to get a better look, and frowned. “Good lookin’ out.” He pulled his shirt over his head and exchanged it for the fresh one. “Better?”

  “Much.” AJ patted his pockets. “Keys. I forgot my keys.”

  “S’okay. My truck’s outside. I can drive and drop you off later.”

  “Good enough.” AJ hit the light panel and led the way out of the house.

  “You’re not going to leave a note?”

  “I’ve got my cell. I’ll call if we’re out late.”

  “Yeah.” Dench grinned, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You’re in the doghouse. Don’t even want to take the time to leave a note. Dude, you might be under the doghouse.”

  “No, she’ll be okay.” AJ grinned and clicked the seatbelt into place. “Our last conversation ended with The Loud Sigh.”

  “You mean The Loud Sigh that means she thinks you’re an idiot and she can’t remember why she’s bothering to argue with you?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “You might want to text that message, then.” Dench eased the truck down the drive and through the iron gates. “Where are we going?”

  “First Down okay with you?”

  Dench nodded and turned onto Cascade. Riding in silence, the two men held their own thoughts close, the way only good friends could. Ten minutes later, they walked through the doors of the sports bar.

  First Down, sitting directly across from heavily visited Camp Creek Marketplace, was a neighborhood bar with great aspirations. Making the best of its proximity to upscale neighbors, First Down was known for cold beer, thick burgers served with double orders of fries, hot wings, and anything covered in cheese. The walls were covered with sports memorabilia, including autographed photos of AJ in action, a game ball from one of Dench’s winning games, and flat-screen high-definition televisions. League and division games were offered nonstop and close-captioned for those needing to watch more than one at a time.

  The owners, Jim and Liz Parrish, had laid the Falcons’ red and black colors heavily throughout the bar, though a couple of their former investors had insisted on some of the green and gold touches that Liz still lamented. “Makes the place look like Christmas on hard times—damned Packers,” she often said.

  Tonight, Liz sat at the end of the curving brass-railed bar, surveying her private territory. Her sharp eyes, heavily shielded by the thick fringe of false lashes, were on the trio of long-legged pretty women in short shorts, tight T-shirts, and sandals. Sitting with her tall glass of iced water, the lemon floating on top, her posture was a dare to any of the three. Good-looking, muscular Jim was off limits.

  AJ and Dench exchanged quick glances. “Hey, Liz,” they said together.

  “Hey, boys.” She slipped from her chair and offered seductive smiles to both men as she hugged them, pressing her gym-tightened body as close as she could while still pretending innocence.

  Maybe Jim was the one who should have been doing guard duty.

  “AJ and Dench!” Affable Jim was glad to see all of his customers, but he especially liked this pair. Nice men, all about business, they could talk ball all day—his kind of guys. “So, how’s it looking, Coach? Is my money going to be safe with the ‘Dirty Birds’ this year?”

  Shaking hands, Dench grinned. “That would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

  “I thought we were friends!”

  AJ laughed and took the hand Jim offered. “You trying to send your kids to school on Falcon bets?”

  Talking from the side of his mouth, Jim looked at his wife as she settled back in her seat. “Can I?”

  “You’d better not,” Liz called, making them all laugh.

  “Let me set you up,” Jim offered, reaching for the pair of Coronas Dench and AJ usually ordered. He popped the caps and stabbed lime slices into the bottles. “You want some wings with that?”

  “Thanks. Sure,” Dench and AJ said, heading for a table.

  A tableful of black-and-gold-shirted Alpha Phi Alpha men turned to watch their progress. One thick-bodied brother stood and thumped his chest with a meaty fist. “Yarborough, right? Man, I remember you taking the Heisman, back in the day. We were so proud of you when they inducted you into the Hall of Fame.” Moved, he turned to his frat brothers, obviously all over-the-hill former players, and they all lifted their drinks in salute.

  A second fortyish man stood, his gold shirt stretched across his abundant belly. Grinning at Dench, he lifted his glass. “And don’t forget Traylor. Here’s to some big ‘D’ this year!” He barked loudly and clinked his glass against AJ and Dench’s bottles.

  “What are you all drinking?”

  “We just came to sit a while,” AJ said.

  “Then your money is no good here,” one of the Alphas declared. “Put them on our tab,” he shouted to the ever-cooperative Jim.

  Thanking the men, they autographed a stack of napkins, laughed when one of the men mentioned ‘eBay,’ and finally escaped to find a table of their own. Ignoring the pretty women in the short shorts, they sat back and silently watched the end of a televised soccer match.

  “Ever wonder if Jabari will want to play pro ball?”

  AJ’s eyes moved to his friend. “You know I do. Just like I wonder if Nia will run like Silk does.” He smiled thoughtfully. “On the other hand, maybe she’ll just decide to be a princess and Jabari will be a fireman. You never know.”

  “You never know,” Dench echoed.

  Across the bar, determined to garner attention, the three women headed for the pool table and spent a lot of time bent over the table racking up the balls.

  “When Rissa came to me with the offer to come to the Atlanta team, I thought it was the perfect thing to support our marriage, but this baby thing seems to be shredding it.”

  Propping his elbows on the chair, eyes on the television screen, AJ looked focused on the tail end of the soccer match. “She tell you that she talked to Marlea about it?”

  Dench toyed with the lime slice. “No, but I figured she did. Probably talked to Jeannette and Connie, and Yvette and Libby, too.” He sipped from his bottle. “You know my wife. Her mouth won’t hold water.”

  “But you know Silk is just the opposite. She’ll take a secret to her grave.”

  AJ moved his bottle when the young waitress brought her heavy tray to their table. Smiling, she unloaded wings, fries, and thick sticks of fried mozzarella cheese, along with a bucket of cold Coronas. When she asked if there was anything else needed, both men shook their heads. Dench picked up a celery stick and bit down thoughtfully before he saw the smirk on AJ’s face.

  “What?”

  “Celery sticks?”

  Tossing the last bite into his mouth, Dench took a heavily sauced wing and dug deep into the bleu cheese dressing. Tearing into it, he looked at AJ. “Satisfied?”

  T
aking one of his own, AJ bit into it and savored. “Oh, yeah.”

  Finishing, AJ set the bones aside and looked hard at Dench. “Did Rissa tell you that she’s thinking about using a surrogate?

  “Oh, that.” Dench licked his fingers and sighed heavily. “We sort of talked about that today.”

  “That’s why you never made it to Flowery Branch.”

  “Yeah.” Dench sucked at his beer. “How did you know? About the surrogate thing, I mean?”

  “She wants Silk to be the surrogate.”

  The double-take would have been funny if the subject had not been so serious. “Where did you get that from?”

  “Rissa called today, I guess right after you left. Silk was out and I got the message.” AJ watched Dench close his eyes and tighten his lips. “Rissa needs a surrogate mother. She asked, and Silk wants to do it.”

  Eyes open, Dench looked empty. “And you don’t want her to.”

  “No.” AJ said the word like it explained everything. “I don’t want her to do it, but she’s made up her mind—just completely dropped me out of the equation.” AJ’s face tightened. “You should have told me, man.”

  “Told you what? I didn’t know she was going to take it there. I didn’t know she’d talked to Marlea like that.” Dench’s hand covered his mouth, the fingers working against the tightly drawn skin of his jaw. “Dude, you know, if you were anyone else, I’d call you a bastard for telling me like this and not backing us up. I don’t know if you’re a selfish bastard or just a damned lucky one. You have everything I want, everything Rissa and I ever wanted, and you have the nerve to sit here and be mad about it.”

  “It’s not that…it’s…”

  “Rissa is your sister, dude.”

  “Silk is my wife.”

  “Selfish bastard. If Marlea is willing to try…”

  “…and it doesn’t work, what next?”

  Struggling to breathe, Dench swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want this for you…for both of you.” AJ threw up both hands. “Silk and I have been lucky, blessed, really. I guess I just don’t want to press our luck.” His hands rose again when words failed. The anger in his friend’s face dried up his excuses. “Look, Dench, you’re family, you know that. All that’s missing between us is blood, and Rissa makes up for that. You know I love you both and that just makes this harder all the way around. I’m way the hell selfish and I know that. I’m as wrong as two left shoes, but…damn.”

  “I didn’t put her up to it. You know that, right?”

  “I know.” AJ dropped his hands and looked hopeless. “I know my sister and my wife.”

  Across the room, one of the televisions burped static before the Atlanta Braves game flashed across the screen. Dench’s fingers worked at his jaw again. “She said she wanted us to try again—insisted on it. She never said…”

  “Welcome to the Wonderful World of Rissa. Problem is, now she wants my wife to carry your baby. That’s the message she left at my house.”

  “And it left you pissed off.”

  “Come on, man. Dench, you’ve got to try to see my side. I marry one woman, make a family with her, and now this. It’s not like Rissa asked me for a kidney.” Spreading his hands, AJ looked confused. “How does anybody get over wanting something for their whole life, having it within their grasp and then losing it? I can only imagine how you feel and why she did it.”

  Dench dropped his hand and reached for his beer. He drained the bottle and reached for another. Swallowing fast, he stopped halfway through. “I should have known that there was more to it when she said she wanted to try again. I thought that meant we should…”

  AJ hunched his shoulders.

  “How am I supposed to compete with that?”

  “My thought, exactly, but every man has to find his own way.”

  “That’s a nice greeting card sentiment, dude.” Finishing the beer, Dench set the empty bottle on the table and pushed it away with two stiff fingers.

  “One out of four is not bad. I was wondering if you were ever going to finish a bottle.”

  “I got thirsty. But that doesn’t solve the problem.”

  AJ winced and sighed. “I thought she was coming around to the idea of adoption.”

  “For a minute, I thought so, too. Dude, I’m not trying to drag Marlea into anything, but it looks like I thought wrong.”

  “I know that, besides, you didn’t have to drag Silk into anything. She ran into it on her own two feet.” AJ’s eyes went to the television in front of them and he drew a deep breath. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t have…”

  Dench raised a hand and shook his head heavily from side to side. “No. If the situation was reversed, I would probably feel the same way.”

  AJ’s eyes touched Dench, then bounced back to the game. “Too bad you can’t just run off somewhere, get relaxed, and make a baby right quick.”

  “You know, that could work…” Dench looked thoughtful. “Do you think Marlea could kind of slow her roll? Just for a little while?”

  “You have an idea?”

  “Maybe before all that testing and the implantation process happens, I could sweep Rissa up for a second honeymoon, kind of romantic getaway. Take a chance that we can work this out.”

  “A second honeymoon is one thing, but a baby-making holiday is something else altogether.” AJ snickered.

  “Dude, just because you…”

  “Sorry. I was wrong for that.” AJ finished his beer and set the empty bottle next to Dench’s. Leaning, he propped his elbows on the table. “Maybe a second honeymoon is not a bad idea—if you can sell her on it.”

  “Looks like I’m going to have to.” Watching AJ open another beer, Dench ran a hand over his bald head. “I’m not trying to shave anything else.”

  “But what if it doesn’t work out? If she doesn’t instantly get pregnant, then what?” AJ took a deep swallow from his bottle and shook his head. “Hell of a thing to be sitting here discussing my sister.”

  “Do it, don’t do it. She’s your sister, she’s my wife…” Dench bit into one of the mozzarella sticks. “Careful you don’t get chafed trying to straddle that fence, dude. I’m going to take it one step at a time.” Thinking, he chewed. “I’ll take her back to Negril—back to Tensing Penn, where we got married. It’ll be romantic; she’ll eat it up.”

  “It could work, if a hurricane or something doesn’t come along.”

  “You got anything better?” When AJ shook his head, Dench nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  AJ broke a chicken wing and pointed a section at Dench. “Man, I’ve got to give it to you. Rissa always did like heroes.”

  “Don’t cheer yet. I’ve still got to talk her into it.”

  “I don’t see that as a problem.” AJ concentrated on his wing. “I kind of think she likes you.”

  “Huh. That was before our last conversation. Before I got The Loud Sigh.”

  “Negril might be your last hope.”

  “Dude, isn’t that what I just said? She loved it at Tensing Penn.”

  “Except for that night at Rick’s.” AJ grinned.

  “You won’t be there this time, we’re already married, and I’ll promise not to go off the cliff again.” Leaning back in his chair, Dench turned to check out the nearest television when the Alphas cheered. The Braves had closed out the final inning of their game with a home run. “Maybe that’s a good sign.”

  “For your sake, I hope so.” AJ pushed the wings away and wiped at his fingers with a napkin. “So what’s your plan for tonight? Still going up to Flowery Branch, or back home?”

  “Flowery Branch, I think.” Dench tapped his fingertips on the tabletop. “Bet I could hit the internet while I’m up there, make the plans and surprise her with them. She’ll like that.”

  “Then I guess we solved your problem, huh?” AJ checked his watch, then turned to look at the television screen where the Braves’ postgame review was showing.

>   “Guess I’d better get you back home before Marlea starts thinking you’ve been kidnapped or something.”

  “Nah, I’ll catch a cab. There’s usually one in the parking lot.” AJ looked at his friend. “You gonna be okay?”

  “One way or another.” Dench shrugged. “How about you?”

  “You know Silk. She’s stubborn as they come, but she doesn’t hold a grudge.”

  “Wives. What are we supposed to do with them?”

  “Keep on loving them, I guess.” Standing, AJ pulled cash from his wallet and waited while Dench did the same. Dropping the bills on the table, he smiled. “With a tip like that, that’s going to be a happy little waitress.”

  “Don’t be condescending, dude. You’ve got a wife and a daughter.”

  “And a mother, and a sister.” He dropped another bill on the table as penance.

  The Alphas were still cheering and toasting when AJ and Dench raised their hands for a final farewell. In the parking lot, standing next to Dench’s truck, AJ tried to read his friend’s face. “You really think she’ll go for a second honeymoon?”

  “I think I have to at least give it a shot.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then I’ll have to try to convince her that adoption is the way to go, if I’m not enough for her.” Dench jiggled his keys and sighed. “Just for the record, I don’t think the surrogate thing is right for us, but I’m grateful that Marlea would even consider putting herself through that for Rissa and me.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s special like that.” AJ jammed his hands in his pockets and looked up just as a taxi rolled into the parking lot. Raising his arm to hail it, he was surprised to feel the odd warmth in his heart. “She’s real special.”

  He was still thinking about how special his wife was when the cab pulled away from First Down.

  AJ stopped the driver at the foot of his driveway. Dench was on his mind when he paid the fare. Every man has to find his own way, he thought, adding a tip. My dad used to say that, and mad as the old man could make me, he was right. Tonight I heard myself say the same thing to Dench. Aww, man…please don’t let me be turning into my old man.