“Hey, baby,” his mother greeted him, her heels clicking smartly against the hardwood floor as she strode into the kitchen.
“Hey, Ma.” When she reached him, Colby leaned down to kiss her upturned cheek and give her a hug. Catching a whiff of cigarette smoke, he frowned.
As he drew back, Carlene cradled his face between her slender hands and smiled wonderingly at him. “I can’t get over how handsome and manly you are. My baby boy has really grown up and come into his own.”
Colby gave her a look of wry amusement. “You talk as if you haven’t seen me in years, Ma.”
She sniffed. “It certainly feels that way. You hardly ever returned home once you graduated from college and left for New York. It’s like you forgot where you came from.”
Biting back an impatient sigh at the familiar accusation, Colby said evenly, “I didn’t forget where I came from.”
But God knows he’d wanted to forget about his painful past, had wanted to purge his soul of the disillusionment and misery that had poisoned his childhood. But time and distance had only dulled the sharp edges of his pain and anger. So after fourteen years of running, he’d come back home to confront the demons that had once driven him away. Making peace with his mother was the first step. After all, if Lexi could forgive Carlene for years of abuse and neglect, so could he.
Or so he kept telling himself.
Deciding to change the subject before an argument ensued, he said, “You look really nice, Ma.”
“Think so?” Beaming with pleasure, Carlene turned in a circle to model the stylish green wrap dress she wore. “Your sister talked me into buying this when we went shopping together last weekend. Now that I’m getting my figure back, she says I ought to show it off.”
Colby smiled a little. “She’s right.”
He was glad to see his mother looking healthier than she had in years. Once upon a time, she’d been a bona fide knockout. With her smooth caramel complexion, lustrous mane of hair and voluptuous curves, she’d turned heads wherever she went. But her beauty hadn’t spared her from suffering the pain and heartache caused by her philandering husband. So after he walked out on their family, she’d gradually let herself go, becoming a heavy smoker and wasting away until she was barely a shell of her former self.
But over the past several months, as part of a bargain she’d struck with Lexi, Carlene had begun seeing a therapist to help her work through her emotional issues. She’d also hired a personal fitness trainer and had quit smoking—though the scent of nicotine teasing Colby’s nostrils made him wonder whether she’d already fallen off the wagon.
Taking a long pull on his beer, he sauntered over to the oak breakfast table and sat down.
“Lexi called while I was getting ready,” Carlene told him. “She and Quentin are headed over to his mama’s house to pick her up, then they’ll be on their way.”
Colby nodded. “Okay.”
Upon learning that Lexi was pregnant, Quentin’s family had been so ecstatic that they’d promptly organized a celebration dinner at a waterfront restaurant, where everyone was supposed to meet at eight o’clock that evening.
Joining Colby at the table, Carlene heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “I like the Reddicks—”
Here it comes, Colby thought.
“—but sometimes they act like your sister belongs to them, like she doesn’t have her own family. How do they know I didn’t want to throw a party to celebrate the baby? This will be my first grandchild.”
“Quentin’s mother’s, too,” Colby reminded her.
“I know that,” Carlene grumbled, agitatedly toying with her right earring. “I don’t have a problem with Georgina. She’s a nice woman. I just wish she and the Reddicks would stop trying to take over everything. Between them and Asha Dubois—” she practically spat the name of her nemesis “—I hardly had a say in my own daughter’s wedding day. Humph. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already planning the baby shower.”
Colby was silent, searching his mother’s sullen expression. “Is that why you had a smoke today? Because you were feeling frustrated about tonight’s dinner?”
She shot him a startled glance. “What’re you talking about? I haven’t been smoking!”
When Colby just looked at her, she scowled. “It was just one cigarette,” she muttered, her eyes shifting guiltily away. “It’s not like I committed a damn crime or something.”
Colby frowned, setting his beer down on the table. “You’ve been doing so well, Ma. I don’t want to see you back at square one. None of us do.”
“Speak for yourself,” Carlene said bitterly. “Your baby sister couldn’t care less what happens to me. If she did, she would have come back home with you.”
Colby clenched his jaw, striving for patience. “You know that’s not true, Ma. Summer does love you and care about you. But you can’t expect her to just pick up tomorrow and leave New York after she’s built a life for herself there.”
“You left,” Carlene pointed out.
“It wasn’t an easy decision,” Colby bit off tersely. “And the jury’s still out on whether I did the right thing.”
Carlene held his stony gaze for a long moment, then glanced away, her lips twisted cynically. “I guess I didn’t realize what a lousy childhood you and your sisters had, to make you run away from home and not want to come back.”
Colby was silent, his mind flashing through a kaleidoscope of dark images.
He saw Summer, small and fragile, bawling into his shoulder after Carlene viciously chopped off her pigtails to punish Summer for not putting away her dolls.
He saw himself and Summer huddled in the doorway of their big sister’s bedroom, their eyes wide with horror at the sight of Lexi writhing in agony from a cigarette burn inflicted by Carlene.
He saw Carlene standing over the sofa where he’d been stretched out one afternoon when he was sixteen. Her face was contorted with fury, spittle flying from her mouth as she screamed at him, You’re gonna be just as lazy and worthless as your goddamn daddy!
Colby closed his eyes for a moment, as if by doing so he could block out the painful memories. A “lousy childhood” didn’t begin to describe the hell he and his siblings had suffered at the hands of their emotionally destructive mother.
“I did the best I could,” Carlene said bitterly, watching his grim expression. “It’s not my fault that your father abandoned us. It’s not my fault—”
Colby shoved his chair back from the table and stood with an abruptness that startled Carlene.
She frowned. “Baby—”
He held up a hand, jaw tightly clenched. “I don’t wanna hear it tonight, Ma.”
Hurt flared in her eyes.
As they stared at each other, they heard the front door open and close. Moments later the rapid click of high heels on the hardwood floor announced Lexi’s arrival before she appeared in the kitchen doorway, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed from being outdoors.
“Hey,” she greeted them cheerfully. “I told Quentin and his mom to wait in the car. Are you two ready?”
“Yeah,” Colby grunted.
When Carlene rose from the table without a word, Lexi divided a wary glance between her and Colby. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” Colby walked over to his sister and affectionately kissed her forehead, then smiled into her eyes. “You’re glowing already.”
She grinned. “That’s what everyone’s been telling me.”
“It’s true,” Colby said. “Pregnancy agrees with you.”
“It sure does.” Reaching them, Carlene smiled as she stroked her daughter’s sleekly bobbed hair. “But then again, you haven’t stopped glowing since your wedding day.”
Lexi laughed. “That’s probably true, too.”
Colby gallantly offered an arm to his mother and sister. “Shall we?”
They smiled, tucking their arms through each of his. And together they left the house, determined to pretend, if only for a few hours,
that all was right with their dysfunctional little family.
* * *
“What’re you bringing to Thanksgiving dinner this year?”
“The same thing I always bring,” Ava quipped, biting into a hot, gooey slice of pepperoni pizza.
“And what’s that?”
“My appetite.”
Anita Barksdale shot her younger sister an exasperated look. “You know that’s not what I meant. What dish are you bringing?”
“Who says I’m bringing one?”
“Ava!”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I haven’t thought about it, Nita. Thanksgiving’s more than a month away. And I don’t know why you’re making me bring anything. Between you, Mom and Grandma Jean, we always have more than enough food at Thanksgiving. Besides, all of you are much better cooks than I am.”
Anita rolled her eyes. “What a cop-out.”
Ava grinned, blithely taking another bite of pizza.
It was Saturday afternoon. She’d intended to spend most of the day catching up on paperwork, not hanging out at Chuck E. Cheese’s with her sister and her rambunctious niece and nephew, along with Anita’s surly twelve-year-old stepdaughter, Destiny.
From where Ava and Anita sat, they had a clear view of her two children, Ashleigh and Toby, racing from one amusement to another as their half-sister stood nearby texting on her cell phone.
“I didn’t know this was your weekend to keep Destiny,” Ava remarked.
Anita made a face. “It wasn’t. Her mother had to go out of town on business, or so she claims.”
Ava arched a brow. “You think she’s off somewhere having a romantic tryst?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Anita said sourly. “You know how that woman is, always on the prowl for her next sugar daddy. Let’s not forget that’s how she sank her claws into Wesley years ago.”
Ava chuckled wryly.
There was no love lost between Anita and her husband’s ex-wife, Maritza—a gorgeous executive secretary from Panama whose favorite pastime was meeting wealthy men who showered her with lavish gifts and whisked her off to exotic locales. She was notorious for dumping Destiny on her father’s doorstep on the spur of the moment, forcing the family to adjust their routine or vacation plans to accommodate her selfish whims. Though Anita detested the woman, she’d gone out of her way to try to forge a relationship with Destiny—no easy feat considering the malicious lies her mother had fed her about Anita over the years.
Reaching for another slice of pizza, Ava asked, “When is Maritza due back?”
Anita scowled. “Tuesday evening. So that means I’ll have to get up an hour earlier to drop Destiny off at school all the way across town, only to turn right back around to pick her up.” She shook her head, angrily sipping her soda. “Her trifling mother is so damn lucky I don’t work outside the home anymore.”
Four years ago, following the birth of her second child, Anita had resigned from her television production job to become a stay-at-home mom. Of course, she seldom ever stayed at home. She was constantly on the go—setting up playdates for her children, chaperoning field trips, serving as PTA president, volunteering at homeless shelters and organizing charity drives. She even found time to take Zumba classes to help maintain the curvaceous figure that had lured Wesley Barksdale away from his cheating first wife.
Anita was a dynamo, a veritable force of nature. Ava—who’d authored several professional articles and gave lectures on employment law while working eighty hours a week—felt like a slacker compared to her multitasking sister.
Anita sighed. “Enough about me and my Real Housewives of Atlanta drama,” she said, plucking a pepperoni from the small pizza that she’d ordered for her and Ava after the kids ate. “What’s going on with you?”
It was a loaded question if ever Ava had heard one. She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. “Oh, you know. Work, work, work.”
Anita nodded, her dark eyes probing Ava’s as she munched on the pepperoni. “Have you heard from Neal?”
“No, and I don’t expect to.”
Anita frowned, shaking her expensively weaved head. “I still can’t believe he broke up with you. I just knew the two of you would be engaged by Christmas.”
“Guess you were wrong,” Ava murmured.
“Guess so.” Anita studied her a long moment, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You seem to be handling this better than you were three weeks ago.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah.”
Ava shrugged, setting down her half-eaten slice of pizza. It surprised her to realize that since meeting Colby, she hadn’t given her ex more than a passing thought. What did that say about her relationship with Neal?
And more important, what did it say about her feelings for a man who was supposed to be off-limits?
“Even though you were hurt by what happened between you and Neal,” Anita continued, “I think it was for the best that he called it quits. I don’t think he was right for you.”
Ava shot her sister a surprised look. “Since when?”
Anita hesitated. “I’ve always felt that way.”
“Really? Why is this the first time I’m hearing it?”
“I don’t know,” Anita hedged, looking uncomfortable. “You’d been dating him for over a year, and you seemed to be really into him. I guess I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you what I really thought of your relationship.”
“Excuse me?” Ava sputtered incredulously. “When have you ever censored yourself to spare my feelings?”
Her sister frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Nita. We both know you’ve never been afraid to share your honest opinions with me. You’ve criticized me for being a workaholic and not having more of a social life. You’ve criticized me for being too independent and outspoken, which supposedly turns men off. Hell, you even criticized me for cutting my hair last year. So forgive me for being surprised to hear that you held your tongue about Neal because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
Anita smirked at her. “Sounds like someone’s holding a grudge.”
“Girl, please,” Ava said with a dismissive laugh. “I’m not holding any grudges. I’m just making a point—one you can’t dispute. You’re opinionated as hell and you know it. Now tell me why you thought Neal wasn’t right for me.”
Anita sniffed. “If you really want to know—”
“I do, obviously.”
“Well, for starters, he wasn’t ambitious enough for you. He was a starving artist, content with selling a painting here and there, never aspiring to achieve anything greater than ‘local celebrity’ status.”
Ava frowned. “And you think I had a problem with that?”
“I know you did. See, even though you’d never admit it to yourself, Ava, you need a man who challenges you and pushes your buttons. A man who’s not afraid to go after what he wants, whether it’s right or wrong. A man who’s your equal in every way.”
Sounds like Colby, an inner voice whispered through Ava’s mind.
“I think dating an artist was a novelty to you,” her sister postulated. “After dealing with cutthroat lawyers and type A personalities all day, coming home to Neal was a welcome change of pace for you. He was easy to be with and easy to talk to, and you were charmed by his eccentric personality. But he never really challenged you.” She paused before adding, “And he may have been a creative artist, but he sure as hell wasn’t an adventurous lover.”
Ava choked out a laugh. “How do you know that?”
Anita snorted. “Girl, please. Grandma Jean and Reverend McCardell have more chemistry than you and Neal did. After five minutes of being around you two, I could tell that the sex was vanilla.”
Heat stung Ava’s face, but she didn’t deny her sister’s assertions. She couldn’t. Because although she’d generally enjoyed making love with Neal, there’d been nothing earth-shattering about the way he’d made her feel.
Now, Colby… Wel
l, no man could ever make her feel the way Colby had.
Too bad he’s totally wrong for you.
“So now that Neal is out of the picture,” Anita continued, snagging another pepperoni instead of just taking a whole slice of pizza, “you need to get back out there and explore your options.”
Ava frowned at her sister. “It’s only been three weeks since Neal dumped me. Aren’t I entitled to a recovery period?”
Anita chewed thoughtfully. “If you were devastated by the breakup, I might agree. But you’re not devastated. Like I said, you’re handling it better than I expected. So that tells me you’re ready to move on.” She paused, then ventured casually, “You know, one of the producers at the station is always asking Wesley about you. Maybe you and he could—”
Ava was already shaking her head. “Uh-uh. No way.”
“Why not? Roger is very smart and attractive, and he makes good money—”
“Sorry. Not interested.”
Anita huffed a frustrated breath. “I can’t believe you’re being so close-minded. A woman your age—”
Ava took umbrage. “Excuse me?”
Her sister gave her a look. “You’re not getting any younger, Ava. You’re thirty-three years old—”
“Hardly ancient,” Ava interjected.
“Yeah, but if you’re not careful, you’re gonna end up like that bitter old shrew at your law firm. You know the one you’re always complaining about, the one everybody calls ‘dragon lady’ behind her back. Sure, you respect her because she broke through the glass ceiling to become the first female partner at the firm. But at what cost? She’s almost seventy, and she’s never been married and doesn’t have any kids. Because she chose her high-powered career over having a family, she’s spent most of her adult life being lonely and miserable. Is that what you want for yourself?”
Ava was spared from answering by the appearance of her niece and nephew, who raced over to the table to gulp down fruit punch from the plastic cups they’d abandoned earlier.
Ava smiled at the two children, who were pint-size replicas of their parents. “Are you guys having fun?”
“Yes!” Ashleigh and Toby eagerly chorused.
Merry Sexy Christmas Page 24