Oliver picked up her hand and joined their fingers together. "Thank you."
"Listen, if you want to come to Treasure Beach and spend the two weeks before school begins, you can," Oliver offered.
"I'd love that," Ashaki said eagerly. "And you are offering even though you heard what David said."
"Yes." Oliver's voice was clipped. "Why not?"
"I have to go get some of my stuff," Ashaki pointed out. "I knew I should have left some of the things at the house."
"Sure, we can go and get some of your stuff. It's not an issue. We are practically there already."
"Can we stop at the church I was telling you about, St. Paul's Old Testament?" Ashaki asked when they reached the square.
Oliver frowned. "Is it far from here?"
"Not while driving, but it seemed to take forever when I walked it." Ashaki pointed. "It's just down that road."
"Okay, I will humor you," Oliver said, turning the car to go into that direction. It really wasn't a long drive. She had been right.
Oliver stopped before the church and whistled. "Nice lawn. "
"That's what I thought." Ashaki nodded. "There's the gardener, I think.” There was an old gentleman in grass-stained work clothes bent over a lawn mower in the shade of the church."
Oliver got out of the car and Ashaki followed.
"Hello sir!" Oliver called to the man.
The gardener looked up and waved them over.
Oliver approached him. "My name is Oliver."
"Mine's Randy," the gardener said gruffly. He pulled the cap he had on his head and nodded. "The church is not open now."
"I know." Oliver glanced at Ashaki. "I was wondering if you know a man named Peter Scarlett or anybody around here by that name."
Randy squinted at Oliver. "Are you the man that arranged to see Rev. yesterday? He was here waiting. You made him late for a funeral."
Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "Who was here waiting?"
"Rev. Jarrett," Randy said, fanning the cap over his face and jamming it back on his head. "Peter Scarlett is around there."
He hooked his finger around the side of the church.
Oliver was confused. "Peter Scarlett is here?"
He stepped around the side of the church, tensing himself up to see a man waiting, only to be met with a neat row of graves.
"And the Rev is at the manse," Randy said, bending back over his lawn mower. "It's the house at the back. He just came in. He is not in the best of moods."
"Thank you," Oliver nodded. Ashaki moved closer to him and held his hand.
"I am so sorry, Oliver."
They walked to the neatly arranged graves where Randy had casually pointed. There was a tall headstone with the inscription Peter Scarlett: born 1960, died 2008. Sadly missed by his wife Betty Ann.
Ashaki read it aloud. "Are the dates right for his age?"
Oliver nodded slowly. "He died nearly five years ago."
"Seems so." Ashaki squeezed his arm. "I am so sorry, Oliver. I know you were looking forward to meeting him."
"It's crazy, I didn't even know him and I am feeling emotional." Oliver's voice choked up. "This is sad."
Ashaki nodded.
"You know you are the one that found him. I can't believe it." Oliver glanced at her. "How on earth did you do it?"
"Maybe I was led here." Ashaki shrugged. "I don't know."
They walked toward the manse; the reverend was a tall man with a wizened face, steel grey hair and a brisk attitude. He invited them to sit on his veranda and his housekeeper brought them tea and tough crackers. The reverend belched liberally after each sip of the tea and excused himself every time.
"What do you know about Peter Scarlett?" Oliver asked after the pleasantries.
"That he's a lying, thieving man whore who was not to be trusted around any man's female."
The reverend belched loudly again.
"That man went through my congregation like a volcano. Even my own wife, as old as she is, was charmed by him. He was like a marauding wolf among a herd of lambs.” The reverend slowly rocked in his chair. “I was so happy when he said he was going to marry Betty Ann Summers, the only woman crazy enough to take him on as a permanent fixture in her life.
"And all went well too for a few years. And then he slept with Ernest DaSilvas' wife. Big mistake. You see, Ernest was a butcher with a bad temper; everyone knew that. Peter was supposed to be at their home fixing some leaking pipe."
"He was a plumber?" Oliver whispered the question.
"Maybe." The reverend shrugged. "More like he was a jack of all trades and master of none. But that day he was supposedly a plumber, that pipe was not the only thing he ended up plumbing.
"It didn't end pretty; you can imagine for yourself what happened. Butcher catches plumber in his bed... Ernest is in jail now. He turned himself in at the police station in his bloody clothes. They had to cremate Peter Scarlett for the burial."
Oliver winced.
"Say, you are related to him?" the reverend finally asked.
"Yes." Oliver nodded. "He was my father."
"Good Lord, your mother must have been one of his victims. A victim of his charms," the reverend muttered. "That man was lethal. I don't know how he did it. He had young ones to grannies ready to throw themselves at him and forget their morals. And all of them seemed happy to be under his spell."
"Yes, my mother was a victim of his charm." Oliver cracked a smile. "And I have other brothers and a sister."
The reverend nodded. "Doesn't surprise me. I am sure he had tons of children, even though he claimed that he didn't have any."
"Who were you supposed to meet yesterday?" Oliver asked curiously.
"A young man named Ricardo Mills. He called me one day last year. Said he had interest in the Scarlett family. He met Betty at a rehabilitation clinic in Florida. She is a nurse there and she told him that she was married to a Peter Scarlett.
"I told him Peter was here. Last year he said he would meet me here with a sizable donation to our church building funds if I told him more about Peter."
Oliver nodded. Ricky couldn't remember any of this.
"Thank you for your time, Rev." He shook the reverend’s hand. "I am sure my other family members will be here to visit."
He and Ashaki headed to the car.
"I have several phone calls to make," Oliver said, his voice heavy. "I'll make them while you get your stuff."
Ashaki hugged him tightly and he hugged her back, molding her soft body to his.
"This is not helping." Oliver eased away from her. "I can't be sad and turned on at the same time."
Chapter Fifteen
Oliver woke up early. His sleep was not particularly restful after finding out about his father. On a whim he decided to visit his Uncle Lloyd on Great Bay Road. It was a long enough walk, about fifteen minutes.
He had never walked it before in the morning. He had never been up quite this early since living in Treasure Beach.
He should do it more often; he liked the atmosphere of Treasure Beach in the early morning. The place was buzzing with activity and the sun was not out yet. The street lights were still on, and the air was slightly cool.
A pleasant breeze was blowing from the sea side. He could smell the scent of breadfruit roasting.
He passed more than one fisherman on their way to the sea. One particular man was followed by four eager children. They were skipping behind him happily, carrying what looked like a net and other fishing paraphernalia. They greeted him cheerfully as if it were the middle of the day.
The little girl in the group stuck her tongue out at him and the man turned to her sternly and reprimanded her.
"Sorry Doc." He grinned at Oliver. "These children nowadays, I tell you."
Oliver nodded and smiled and walked on. They were so fortunate to have a father. They probably wouldn't realize the kind of privilege this was, being carefree with your father in the early morning as you headed to sea.
; The little childhood memories become so precious the older you get. He didn't even have a glimmer of a memory of his own father and that was what was bothering him.
Not even a glimpse of him. He had wanted that at least, even though he was an adult. It didn't matter that Peter Scarlett may have been the worst womanizer on earth. Something inside him had wanted to get to know at least what he looked like.
His death was taking a little getting used to. It was like all his childhood hopes of meeting the man were now dead. He still felt strange about it. And he might be the only one who felt that way.
When he had told his mother she had said sadly, "Sorry Oliver. Look on the bright side; he left you a gift of a lot of siblings."
His siblings were not troubled one way or the other. Maybe only Reuben reflected the kind of thoughts he was having. Slater had sounded quite resigned to the news and Lisa had been too busy to even process it, she said.
He felt let down, like his father's death was an anticlimax.
"Oliver Scarlett in the early morning!" Ricky ran up to him and pulled the ear plugs from his ears. "What a surprise!"
Oliver nodded. "I surprise myself too. Now I know why you find getting up so rewarding. It's actually fun at this time."
"Yup, it is," Ricky said, panting slightly. "Where are you heading?"
"My uncle's house, talk to him a bit and then head back."
"Oh, I heard about Peter Scarlett," Ricky said. "My condolences."
Oliver nodded. "Thanks, I guess."
Ricky started jogging on spot. "You should run it to your uncle's house. Get Ashaki out of bed and let her join you. A couple that runs together, stays together."
Oliver smirked "You made that up."
"No I didn't." Ricky stopped jogging in place and started walking. "It is scientifically proven that if you do stuff with your spouse—other than sex, I mean--a hobby or an activity that you both enjoy, then you have a far higher chance of sticking together."
"Okay." Oliver grinned. "I'll take that on board."
"You should." Ricky grinned. "So how is it going for you and Ashaki? You start loving on your wife as you should yet?"
"None of your business," Oliver said lightly. "But if you must know, my friend is here, the one who asked me to marry her. He has come to stake his claim."
"Interesting." Ricky raised an eyebrow. "You don't look perturbed."
"Maybe I am," Oliver said thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why I am out here in the early morning pondering the possibilities, but despite what I may think, I don't want to insert myself in her decision making process. She has to choose. I actually married her for the very purpose of letting her go. I can't be the one who tries to tie her down. You understand what I am saying?"
Ricky nodded contemplatively. "Yep, I get it. But how determined is this guy to influence her to go with him?"
"I don't know." Oliver shrugged. "But if he can influence her to be with him, that is a good thing, isn't it? I would have saved myself a ton of hurt from being with a flighty teenager who will go to whomever she's more grateful to."
"So you are afraid?" Ricky asked, almost slowing down. "You won't fight for her because you are preserving yourself from hurt?"
"It's not a matter of not fighting. It's a matter of allowing her to decide." Oliver sighed. "You don't get it and I don't even know why I am telling you this."
"Because I am a nice guy?" Ricky ran in front of Oliver and then started jogging backwards. "You love her, don't you?"
"Define love," Oliver demanded, refusing to entertain the question.
Ricky grinned. "You like to talk to her, you consider her a confidante, you trust her, you want to make love with her for hours, and you can't imagine life without her."
Oliver shrugged. "That about sums it up."
"Mmmm," Ricky murmured. "So where is your friend staying? Don't tell me you have him in your place, close to your woman?"
"No. He is supposed to be checking into your villa today." Oliver sighed. "I would request that you kick him out but he'd just find somewhere else to stay."
Ricky laughed. "And I wouldn't kick out a paying guest. At least one of us is benefiting from your complicated love life."
****
David Wheeler knew two things were sure: he always got the job and he always got the girl. So after he shook the hands of the interviewers and sat down for his interview a day after he arrived in the island, he was confident.
There were three interviewers: one older gentleman, who introduced himself as Michael Hilton; the head of the medical center, Taj Jackson and a middle aged lady, Eleanor Henley from human resources.
Taj Jackson reminded him a bit of Oliver. It was not that they looked so much alike but they exuded the same temperament. Unruffled, professional, reliable.
Though he was rethinking that last bit. Oliver was not really reliable, now was he? He was acting as if he was in love with Ashaki, and she with him.
Yesterday when they met up, Ashaki had been clinging to Oliver like a limpet and looking at him, David, as if he had morphed into Bekele.
If it weren't for his intervention in her life she would be in Kidogo right now. She was so ungrateful, but he loved her anyway.
It wasn't just lust either. He was quite acquainted with that. Lust was what had capitulated him into marriage with Miranda; even while at the altar he had wondered why on earth he was even going through with it.
Maybe he hadn't given the relationship the chance it should have gotten in the first place. He had jumped at the chance to go to Africa, as far away from Miranda as possible, as soon as he had the opportunity to do so.
It was not surprising, then, when one of the first questions Dr. Jackson asked him was why he became a missionary doctor.
He could have gone with the standard, I wanted to help people in less privileged places, I am a bleeding heart and blah-blah but instead he looked the doctor in the eye and said frankly, "I was escaping my marriage. Africa seemed far away and it was two years."
They were silent for a while.
The older doctor, Hilton, looked uncomfortable at his bluntness. "So how is that working out for you?"
"Not well. We are in the middle of a divorce."
"So this job is an escape again?" Eleanor asked. "This is another country, another year away..."
No, this time he wasn't escaping, David thought wryly, this time he was fighting for love. But of course he didn't say that; his answer would probably sound bizarre and this was a Christian university, after all, and he was still considered married, as was Ashaki.
He decided to stick with the script and answered the questions posed to him with the kind of responses that would get him the job.
When he left the interview half an hour later he was beaming and they were impressed with him. They all but confirmed that he would get the post; in two weeks he would know.
Now he had time to be with Ashaki, to get to know her properly, to give her the chance to love him like he loved her. Oliver was not going to win this one. He was in this for the long haul.
Next stop for him was Treasure Beach and Villa Ingles; that was where he'd cool out for a while. It was close enough to Ashaki and Oliver. The website that he had looked on before he got here made it seem as if Villa Ingles would be paradise. He needed a vacation and this was the best time to take one.
****
David checked into the hotel and had a nap. His room had a patio, which had a sea view and a hammock. He was much more weary than he had thought. He had just been trying out the hammock and the next thing he knew it was early evening. He called Ashaki, who answered him hesitantly.
"Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?" he asked, blundering on through her cold reception.
"Can Oliver come too?" Ashaki asked him. He rotated his neck after a tension filled second and tried to answer without the irritation that would be in his voice after such an audacious question.
No, he didn't want Oliver coming along. That was the point of
taking her to dinner. So that they could be alone without Oliver's broody, disapproving presence and hijacking of the conversation like he did with yesterday’s breakfast.
"I was wondering if we could go alone. The hotel here has a four star restaurant."
Ashaki inhaled and then answered him less than brightly. "Yes, David. What time were you thinking of?"
"Seven. I can come to pick you up."
"No," Ashaki said quickly. "I'll walk; it is not that far from where we live."
He gritted his teeth when he heard the ease with which she said 'we' live. She had feelings for Oliver; it was obvious in her voice and in the way she reluctantly conversed with him as if he were a stranger she wanted to get off the phone as quickly as possible.
It made him feel sick to his stomach. A better man would just step aside and allow them to make a go of their marriage; after all Oliver seemed like he would keep Ashaki by his side if given the proper nudge. But he was not a better man; he had been attracted to Ashaki Azanga from the very first moment he had seen her and he had convinced himself that she was the reason he had ended up in the Congo.
Oliver had not even liked her. He had. Oliver had not dreamed about her. He had. He dreamt about this day and if he were not bound by societal conventions, he would have taken her as a second wife.
Nope, on second thought, Miranda did not make a good first wife. He stepped into the shower and gritted his teeth. He had been doing that ever since he found out about Miranda and her duplicity.
Imagine coming home confident that you were going to be home free with a divorce and then being faced with a son instead.
Argh. He groaned out loud. The situation was really not to his liking. He did not want to be a father.
But he was.
And he should be in New York getting to know his son and coming to some sort of agreement with Miranda over custody and that sort of thing. Instead, here he was. As he had told Oliver, nothing could derail his original plans. Not even a child.
He felt disloyal when he thought about it. He had grown up in a loving home as an only child. Even his parents, his mother especially, had begged him to work things out with Miranda, which was a miracle because she hadn't liked Miranda at first.
Scarlett Bride (The Scarletts Page 13