by A. C. Arthur
What if he broke her heart? What if, like her father, one day decided he wanted someone else?
It was crazy and it probably sounded insecure, but that was her fear. Ending up lonely and bitter like her mother was not something Keysa ever wanted to consider. Choosing to be alone was a lot different than being lonely in her book.
Now, she was afraid she’d botched things up.
Getting out of the bed she walked into the bathroom as silently as she could, taking her clothes with her. After a quick shower Keysa felt like she could face Ian even though she had no idea how she was going to backtrack after their night of lovemaking.
He stood in front of the stainless steel oven, his broad back to her when Keysa entered the kitchen. For a minute she allowed herself to look at him, to really look at this man who’d been taunting her with intimate thoughts for months. He was tall—his body finely muscled and sculpted. In addition to his good looks, he was smart and knew marketing as well as she did, if not better. He’d used his connections to move up in the company, but there was no doubt he’d earned his position and was a valuable asset to Maser Marketing.
From all the pictures on the mantel and the tone of his voice when he’d talked about them, Keysa would say he loved and was devoted to his family.
Once upon a time family had meant everything to her, and to some extent it still did. Secretly she’d thought of spending holidays or other special times with the Donovan side of her family. She’d read about all of them and wished once more that her parents hadn’t broken up. Maybe her life would have been different. Then again, there wasn’t really anything else she wanted to change about her life, besides her parents’ divorce. She loved her job, and loved her house. And for a brief moment, she thought, she could fall in love with this man.
“Good morning,” she said, standing there watching him until she felt like some kind of stalker.
He looked over his shoulder, his green eyes almost twinkling as he smiled. “Mornin,’ Sleepyhead. Sit down. Breakfast is just about ready.”
He’d nodded towards the island in the middle of the kitchen where he’d already set two plates, glasses of orange juice and empty coffee mugs. It looked as if he’d thought of everything, Keysa noticed with slight agitation. He really didn’t have to go to all the trouble, but she refused to be rude. Instead she picked up the two mugs and walked toward the coffee pot that had just finished percolating. Pouring them both a cup she tried for polite conversation.
“Do you like to cook?”
“Strange for a man, huh?” he said in that tone that she was quickly coming to realize was his normal happy demeanor.
In the time she’d known him, Ian had never seemed bothered by anything. That was probably one of the things that annoyed her about him. She was convinced that nobody’s life could be that perfect.
“My Mom’s a great cook. She taught all of us at a young age not to be afraid of the kitchen.”
“She sounds like a really good mother,” Keysa said thoughtfully. “How many of you are there?”
“Eight in total—four girls, four boys. My Dad said it was a good thing the RioGrande produced a string of hit movies to feed the small army he had at home.”
He always seemed to talk about his family with such fondness.
“You want lots of kids don’t you?” she asked. The question seemed to come out of nowhere.
He turned off the stove and moved to the kitchen island with plates of crisply fried bacon and fluffy eggs.
“Does that scare you?” he asked, with a slight grin. “I mean, you don’t look like you want a lot of kids.”
She followed him to the island and put a mug in front of him and one in front of her plate before sitting. “Actually, I’ve always wanted a big family.” Since they’d made love and they were having this conversation, she figured she could tell the truth about this one thing, especially since she’d never told anyone else before.
“Really. Then that’s just perfect.”
He reached for her hands, clasping her fingers in his as he said a quick blessing over the food.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said smiling at her again.
“I have to get going soon,” she replied and watched a flicker of annoyance come and go in his eyes. “I love scrambled eggs,” she said to keep the mood light.
“I cook them with a little something special. Try them and see if you like it.”
She forked eggs onto her plate and took one slice of bacon. She took a bite of eggs and noticed they tasted different, but good. “What’d you put in them?” she asked him when she’d finished.
He smiled and took a sip of coffee. “Mmmm, just how I like it with lots of sugar. You know me too well,” he told her with a wink of the eye. “Sprinkle a little Adobo seasoning on scrambled eggs and it really perks up the flavor.”
“Adobo?”
“It’s a seasoning used a lot in Spanish recipes. Try it sometime. It works with just about anything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Keysa said taking another forkful of eggs.
When they’d finished breakfast and all the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher Keysa was about to tell Ian she had to leave. But he took her hand and said, “I’ve got something for you.”
She was being led into the living room before she could say a word.
Keysa refused to look at the sofa with memories of the previous night still fresh on her mind. Her cheeks heated at the thought. But Ian moved past the sofa towards the huge Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He’d opened the blinds so early morning light coupled with a view of the downtown Detroit skyline greeted them. The lights on the tree had been turned off but it still sparkled and boasted a cheerful holiday air with all its ornaments and sparkling tinsel.
Ian led her hand to a small black velvet box. Keysa heart did a somersault in her chest and her hands instantly began to sweat.
“What’s this?” she asked nervously.
“I bought this not long after I met you. And after each one of our dates I would come home and simply stare at it. I knew it was for you and only you.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me before?” Keysa hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was. Hoped and prayed.
He shrugged. “I wanted to wait until the time was right.”
“And you think just because of what happened last night that now the time is right?” Keysa couldn’t help but be skeptical. It just didn’t make sense to her, or maybe it was that she didn’t want it to make sense.
“I think that because of last night, it’s time to really think about this gift and what it will mean to both of us,” he said in a serious voice.
Keysa looked down at the box Ian held in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t really offered it to her. He just held it in his hand. She didn’t want to know what was in the box. Didn’t want to confirm her suspicions or burst his bubble by refusing his gift.
Still, it was a gift. And he’d had it under his Christmas tree, tied with a small red bow. It brought out certain emotions in her, which made her reach for it.
Ian watched as she slid the bow off the box and opened it. Her reaction was completely unexpected.
“What the hell?” she asked, shocked. “It’s empty.”
Ian nodded. “I told you I wanted to wait until the time was absolutely right.”
Snapping the box closed Keysa dropped it back into his hand. “Then why even go through all this?” she said even more agitated than she was before.
“Because I wanted to see where your head was.”
“What? I don’t have time for this, Ian.” She turned and was about to walk away when he grabbed her arms, pulling her close to him.
“I want to be with you, Keysa Donovan. I want to build a life with you, to share everything with you, good times and bad. But I won’t fight with a memory.”
“I haven’t asked you to do anything for me,” was her tight reply.
“No. You haven’t. But that’s what you do when y
ou care about someone. You push them when they need to be pushed. You hold them when they need to be held. And you love them the way they need to be loved.”
“Or you back off when they tell you that’s what they want,” she quipped.
“Then tell me that’s what you want,” he said, daring her.
Keysa pulled away from him. “I told you I don’t have time for this. I have to get home and change and get to work.”
Ian nodded. “Because work is the most important thing in your life,” he continued. “Because that’s the only place where you feel like you have some control. I’ve got news for you, Keysa—love, sharing and caring is not about control. It’s about trust. At some point, if you want any of those things in your life you have to trust someone. Trust yourself.”
“Thank you for the psychotherapy session, but I’ll be going now.” Keysa walked away and to her surprise Ian let her.
Standing in front of his building she was prepared to hail herself a cab when one drove up as if on command. Stepping inside she closed her eyes for a second then prepared to rattle off her address, but the music playing on the radio made her stop.
It was that Nat King Cole song again.
The cab driver pulled away from the curb, driving through Detroit’s morning traffic on his way to the suburbs. Keysa leaned back against the seat, listening to the lyrics of the song and became lulled by its classic melody.
The next thought came to her quickly and before she could re-think her decision she was giving the driver instructions to take her to her mother’s apartment. If he hurried she’d have time to speak to her mother before she left for work. Even though Ian wasn’t on her favorite person’s list right now, some of what he’d said last night was undeniably true. Her mother’s life should not dictate hers. Why shouldn’t she spend the holidays with her father? At least his family was willing to really celebrate the holiday instead of the cool dinner and conversation she and her mother usually shared at a restaurant on Christmas Eve, and the brief phone call on Christmas Day. Neither of them had made any real plans for the holiday since Keysa had become an adult. Watching old movies with Ian last night, seeing his tree all lit up and the gifts lined beneath had brought home a loss Keysa was sick and tired of living with.
At the apartment building, she leaned forward to pay the driver but he waived her off.
“Take care of your business,” he’d said in a voice that was familiar.
She was about to argue with him, but realized she had to hurry if she wanted to catch her mother. So she caught a quick glance at the driver’s license tapped along the dashboard committing his name to memory as she dashed out of the car and ran across the sidewalk. Later when she arrived at the office she would contact the cab company and send payment to him for the ride. Right now, she slapped her hand against the elevator button and waited impatiently for it to arrive.
Mary Donovan opened the door already dressed in slacks and a purple blouse.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile. “Isn’t this a surprise. I thought we were meeting tomorrow for dinner.”
Keysa leaned in, kissing her mother’s cheek and stepped inside the apartment. It was the same apartment her mother had moved them to upon the divorce, with little changes being made in furniture and curtains along the years. It still smelled of White Diamonds perfume, which was her mother’s favorite, and coffee.
“That’s what I’m here to talk about,” Keysa said turning to her mother. Mary was still a very attractive woman with her dark brown hair and eyes a lighter shade of brown than Keysa’s.
“Why didn’t you ever remarry?” Keysa asked suddenly as Mary closed the door.
Her mother had a shocked look on her face as she walked into the living room. “Wow. Where did that come from?”
“It came from years of not knowing why you chose to cut yourself off from living,” was Keysa’s reply.
“Keysa, are you feeling okay?”
Keysa sighed. “I’m feeling just fine, mom. I just have some things I’d like to get off my chest.”
Mary took a seat on the cream colored couch and crossed her legs. “Then please do so,” she said waving so Keysa would also take a seat. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I want to talk about my father and the Donovans.”
Mary looked as if Keysa had told her she wanted to talk about the Russian Mafia instead of her paternal family.
“You divorced dad because of his family, of how you thought his family felt about you. But when he tried to convince you otherwise you didn’t care, you just left. I need to know why you would do that. Didn’t you love him?”
“This happened years ago, Keysa,” Mary said brushing a hand over her pants.
Her mother was an impeccable dresser, a woman who took pride in her appearance and her demeanor. For years Keysa had wondered how her father’s family could think any less of her just because she didn’t come from a family with money.
“I know it happened years ago. But it’s important for me to know why it happened. I want to hear your side of the story.”
“As opposed to the version your father has already given you?” she asked her voice echoing with a touch of chilliness.
“Yes, as opposed to what he told me.”
Mary took a deep breath then looked at her daughter, tilting her head slightly. “The answer is yes, Keysa. I loved Bernard, with all my heart. He was everything I’d ever imagined I’d have in a husband. And it wasn’t because he was rich. It was because he was good and kind and he loved me.”
“Then why did you leave? What did his family do to make you turn against him?”
Her fingers flexed, curled and went still on her thighs. She wore no rings, hadn’t in years. But her nails were perfectly manicured and a simple gold bangle hung on her right wrist.
“You may not believe this but I am sorry for what I put you through. I sit here sometimes and I think of how the events played out and I wish I could go back and do it all over again.” She shrugged. “But I cannot.”
“Would you have stayed with him?”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes and Keysa left the chair she’d sat in alone to join her mother on the couch, taking Mary’s hand in hers.
“I would have let our love prove them wrong.”
“Were they mean to you?”
“No,” Mary shook her head. “Never. It was just a feeling I had when I was around them. At their elaborate parties or even at family dinners I just felt out of place. Like I shouldn’t have been allowed in their space at all.”
“But they never told you that you didn’t belong, did they?” Keysa asked even though she knew the answer, had known for years.
“I was young, Keysa. And I had my own demons to put away. I didn’t think things through before I acted. I didn’t think of you and how my actions would impact you. I was selfish and I was wrong.” Mary sighed. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Keysa shook her head. “No. I just wanted to hear that you loved him and that he loved you in return.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, we loved each other very much. I regret that I didn’t believe in that love enough, that I didn’t grab hold of that happiness when I should have. And I’m sorry for all the pain that action has caused you.”
Keysa’s eyes were blurring too as she reached out to hug her mother. “I know you are,” she whispered.
And she did know. For once in her life Keysa knew that what her parents had was true and that maybe, just maybe she could have that type of love too.
Her mother was running late for work when they exited her apartment building. Mary went her own way promising to call when Keysa returned. Keysa, went to the curb to hail herself another cab. She wanted to hurry home and call her father. This Christmas she planned to spend with her Donovan family.
***
A cab came fairly quickly and Keysa climbed inside her mind ticking down all the things she had to do before leaving town for the holidays. It wasn’t u
ntil the cab came to a stop that she realized she hadn’t said a word to the driver. She looked out her window and was surprised to see that the cab was parked right in front of her house.
“How did you know where I lived?” she asked sitting up in the seat and looking at the driver.
She could only see the side view of him, but recognized the scruffy beard instantly.
“Just had a feeling,” he said with a shrug. “No need to pay me. Think of it as a gift.”
“A gift?” Keysa said as she opened her purse anyway. It was the same old man that had picked her up earlier this morning. What were the odds of that happening? More to the point, there was no way was she taking two free fares from him. “No thank you. I’ll pay my fare if you don’t mind.”
She pulled out a twenty dollar bill and extended it over the seat to pay him. The cab driver shook his head again and touched her wrist. His fingers were warm, and his tone was soft and gentle as he spoke.
“Sometimes we’ve got to open our hearts and our minds to receive the gifts that are meant for us.”
“I don’t understand,” she said slowly.
He closed her fingers over the money and pushed her hand away.
“You have a good day, ma’am.”
The doors of the cab unlocked with a jolt. Keysa shrugged and got out of the car. But as she walked into her house she replayed the old man’s words and instantly thought of Ian and the empty black box.
SEVEN
About two seconds after Keysa stepped through her front door, closing it behind her, she knew she wasn’t alone. Fear stuck like a lump in her throat and she reached into the bottom of the coat rack right beside her door and pulled out one of her long umbrellas. With weapon in hand she took slow steps, peeping around the archway that led into her living room to see there was no one there. Then she heard the clatter of pots and pans and made her way to the kitchen.
Pushing on the door slowly she eased her way inside, umbrella held high and ready to swing.
“Surprise!” she heard about a millisecond before she swung the umbrella.