by Dara Girard
She squeezed excess water from her jacket. What was taking so long? The air was warm so there was no chance of her catching a chill, but she was still sopping wet and wanted to change. She knocked again—harder. She’d given Martha the time when she’d arrived so things would be ready for her.
Before she could pull out her cell phone the door swung open.
“What do you want?” a man demanded.
Michelle couldn’t reply. All words froze on her lips as she stared at him. James. James!
Or at least a man who looked like James if James had given up on shaving and had chosen to dress like a man who didn’t have a penny to his name. He wore a yellow T-shirt with a tear near the shoulder, faded jeans and sandals. He was thinner than she’d remembered him but he still looked wonderfully magnificent and fierce.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her.
That was her question but she still couldn’t speak. What was wrong with him? He stared directly at her but there was no recognition in his gaze. His eyes were the same dark, piercing brown but weren’t as focused as she’d remembered them. And it was clear he didn’t remember her.
She lowered her voice, to mask it from him. “Will you excuse me a moment?” she said, then turned and went along the veranda far enough away so that he couldn’t hear. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed.
“You scheming, horrible old woman,” she said once Martha picked up.
Martha giggled with delight. “You saw him then?”
“You lied to me.”
“Have you seen him?”
“You said you needed help.”
“Have you seen him?” she repeated. When Michelle didn’t reply she said, “You see that he needs you and we didn’t think you’d help him otherwise.”
“He doesn’t need help,” Michelle said, finding her voice. “He needs a shave, some new clothes and—”
“It’s bigger than that and you know it. Have you told him—?”
“I’m not telling him anything. He looks at me as if he doesn’t know me. Did he lose his mind or something?”
“No, the truth is—”
Michelle shook her head. She couldn’t let herself weaken. It had been a cruel trick, but whatever was wrong with James was none of her business now. She hadn’t been able to help him in the past and she doubted that had changed. “I don’t care. I’m taking the first ferry off this island the moment I get a chance.”
Martha paused then said, “Do you still want the space in the Winfield building?”
Michelle heard the threat, but didn’t care. She gazed out at the rain pounding the palm trees and soaking the sad looking fountain. “Not this much.”
“Do you still want to have a business at all?”
A bigger threat. They could fulfill it. She’d worked too hard for them to snatch it away. “I will fight you.”
“Yes, and lose gallantly. I’m not doing this to spite you. If I weren’t desperate you would never have heard from us again.”
“Is Joanna here too?”
Martha didn’t reply.
“Where is she?”
Martha remained silent.
Michelle ran a hand through her wet hair in frustration. “What do you expect me to do?”
“James has wealth, the world at his feet, yet chooses to live this way. As if he didn’t want to live anymore. All those years ago I trusted that you were the right woman for him. I still believe that.”
“You were wrong.”
“Prove it.”
Michelle squeezed her eyes shut, feeling trapped. “Why are you doing this to me?” She opened her eyes and blinked back tears. “I reached out to you. A year after he left, I called you and left a message. More than once. I never heard back.”
“This is my apology.” She disconnected.
Michelle swore, resisting the urge to throw her cell phone in the mud. It wasn’t fair. She took a deep breath. Calm. She had to be calm and focused. She put the cell phone away and lifted her head. They wouldn’t defeat her. For the time being she was stuck until she came up with another plan. James didn’t need to know who she was. She would play the role Martha had given her, as someone here to assess the property, then leave. Michelle returned to the front door ready to face this new challenge. This time when she raised her hand to knock the door opened.
“You’re back,” he said, but this time he didn’t look at her, but rather at something over her shoulder.
She waved her hand in front of his face. “Yes.”
He blinked as if he’d seen the movement, but didn’t say anything about it. “Shame you have to leave again.”
“I can’t.”
His eyes shifted to her face, but his gaze seemed vague. “Why not?”
“Didn’t anyone tell you I was coming?”
“No.”
I’m going to get you, Martha. I hate lies. “I’d like to come inside.”
James folded his arms and to her annoyance she noticed the well-formed muscles under his T-shirt. “That’s too bad.”
“I didn’t come all this way to be left standing in the rain.”
He tilted his head as if listening. “Is it raining still? I thought it had stopped.”
Michelle looked around her and, to her irritation, realized he was right. The sun had already begun peaking through the clouds, sparkling in the small puddles.
“How did you find this place?”
“I received instructions.” She held out her cell phone and the email she’d printed. “Here you can read it.”
“Actually no I can’t.” He turned away. “I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. If you’re quick you should be able to get on the next ferry out.”
Actually no I can’t. His words and the way he grasped at the door confirmed her suspicions. He couldn’t see. That explained why he didn’t recognize her. But when? How? Why had he stayed away? Why hadn’t Martha told her? “I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be here, but I don’t have a choice,” she said before he could close the door. “I only need to look around for two days minimum and then I’ll be out of your hair. Understood?”
“Who sent you?”
“Your grandmother wanted me to look at the property.”
He grimaced. “I should have guessed. There’s no need. The property is mine.”
“I don’t care. Can we discuss this inside?”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“The way you said that…reminded me of someone.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Come in then.”
Michelle bit her lip and grabbed her suitcase. Maybe she should tell him who she was. Maybe she should find out what happened. She began to speak when James stepped back to let her pass.
The inside was worse. Much worse.
James held out his hand. “I’m assuming you have bags.”
She gripped the handle, trying to process what was around her. “Just one. I can carry it myself. Thank you.”
“Good.”
Michelle stared around in horror. How could he live this way? Sight or no sight his other senses must have smelled the musky damp that clung to the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, felt the threadbare furniture, worn rugs and table covered in dust. This is what he preferred? He preferred this derelict, isolated surrounding to living with her? Had it been so bad? It would have been better if she’d found another woman, a better life, anything than this shabby place. Tears of anger stung her eyes as her heart hardened.
She would make sure he never knew who she was. If he wanted this life, he could keep it. She would write her stupid report so she could return to the life she’d built for herself. She would not weaken as she once had. He was not wounded, she could not heal him. She’d learned her lesson the hard way. He’d developed the life he wanted and they were both better off alone.
Michelle swallowed away tears. No, what hurt the most was how much this place showed her how much she’d failed him. Love wasn’t enough. Love woul
d never be enough. He hadn’t come back to her. At least with her business she could help people and they thanked her, she’d never been able to help him and she never would. Let him find someone else. Once she returned to the States she would start divorce proceedings and free them both since he didn’t have the courage to do so.
James closed the front door, swallowing the room in darkness. She noticed a thin stream of light between the heavy drapes which covered the windows, keeping out the sun. She stumbled over to one and pushed it open. A cloud of dust surrounded her. She coughed and stepped back.
“Yes,” he said in a dry tone. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she shot back. “It’s too dark to see. Where are the lights?”
“Yes, right. Sorry. I hardly use them anymore.” He hit a switch.
She felt contrite as she thought about his situation. She didn’t mean her words to sound so cold, but she was tired and wet and angry. But despite her anger, every time she looked at him her heart moved. Her heart remembered loving him. Her heart wanted to know the reason he hadn’t come back to her. Her heart needed to understand. Where was Joanna? Graham? Why was he alone here? Michelle took a step towards him, waving her hand in front of his face again.
This time he surprised her and mimicked the movement. “When the light is right I can see shadows,” he said. “I see a semblance of shapes but nothing in detail.”
“Oh,” Michelle said feeling guilty for getting caught, but she was still curious. Her fingers itched to touch his face and she came to a decision. She would tell him who she was and why she was there and get some questions answered. She lifted her hand and began to say his name, but someone else beat her to it.
“James! I was only taking a nap. Why didn’t you wake me?” a woman said from above. Michelle spun around, looked up at the landing and saw the only beautiful thing in the place. She watched as the woman floated down the stairs like a vision. The woman looked as if she’d been touched by God and raised from the earth in perfect proportion—rich, black hair cascaded down her back in twists, her face a delicate array of feminine features.
Michelle’s heart shattered. This was the reason she’d feared. He wasn’t alone. He’d found someone else. Of course he would have. A man like him, even without his sight, wouldn’t stay alone for long. Joanna would make sure. Martha would have known that. Michelle bit her lip and took a hasty step back, her knees buckling from shock and despair.
James turned sharply to her as if sensing something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, moving away from his outstretched hand. To think she’d almost revealed herself. How foolish would she continue to be? He didn’t deserve it. He’d chosen this life. What if he was working with this woman to fix up the place? What if she’d caught him on a bad day? She’d made up a story about him that wasn’t true. He was okay. He didn’t need her. “It’s been a long journey and I’m wet and a little tired.”
“You look a mess,” the woman said, her brown eyes wide and full of kindness. Up closer she looked older, like a woman in her late-thirties and Michelle noticed makeup on her cheek that covered a bruise. Could James have hurt her? “Poor thing you must be starving too and he doesn’t have the decency to offer you even a glass of water. Let me help you with your case. What’s your name?”
“Mi-Margaret.”
“I’m Delana. I’m so sorry you have to see the place like this, but we are thinking of repairs.”
We. She made her claim clear. They were together and they were going to fix up the place just as she’d suspected. What game was Martha trying to play? “I’m sure it will be great.”
“You’re shaking. Come on. Let’s get you into some dry clothes.”
James took the case from Delana. “I’ll show you the way.”
Delana gaped at him. “But—”
“I know every inch of this place. I know where we can put her,” he said making Michelle sound like an inconvenient piece of furniture. He grabbed the railing and started up the stairs. “Come on unless you want to get lost.”
Michelle looked at Delana who only shrugged. She quickly took off her shoes. Although the place wasn’t in the best condition, she didn’t think it was good manners to track mud through it. She looked with regret at the muddy trail she’d left when she’d gone to the window to open the drapes.
“Leave them with me,” Delana said, taking her shoes from her. “I’ll get them cleaned up.”
“Are you coming?” James called from the stairs.
“You’d better go,” Delana said in a low voice then hurried away.
“Yes,” Michelle said then followed him. She stared at his back—still as broad and wide as she remembered—as he walked to the second level. She could hear Joanna’s worried voice, Why stairs? You know how dangerous they can be. What did Joanna think about all this? Where was she? Or had she chosen Delana to take her place? Perhaps she found her a better substitute.
“Your girlfriend’s manners are better than yours,” Michelle said.
James reached the top of the stairs and turned right before leading her down the hall.
“Matches her face.” Her beautiful face. Do you know she’s beautiful?
James continued walking, the wheels of her case rolling along the wood flooring as he pulled it behind him.
“I’ll have to speak to her about her ideas for this place.”
He paused and touched one door then continued walking.
“Please let her know that I’m not really hungry so she doesn’t have to make a fuss.”
James stopped and turned to her. “You can stay here.” He opened the door, walked inside and left her suitcase by the bed. “It’s the best I can think of so don’t complain.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Michelle stared at the door, trying not to be angered by his disinterest. He was a stranger to her now. She opened her suitcase and placed her clothes on the four poster bed. The room was sparse—under white sheets there appeared to be the shape of a chair and a small dresser—but at least there were only a few spider webs and with a good dusting and a small amount of water it would be clean.
She changed into a pair of dark linen slacks, a blue cotton blouse and sandals before she tested the mattress by pressing her hands against it. The bed squeaked but seemed solid. She gingerly sat down. It would work for the time being. Michelle looked at the closed door again, remembering James’s silence and how he’d kept his back to her.
She’d never let him know she’d seen him. He’d never know she’d even been there. She would come up with a plan to beat Martha at this silly game then disappear from his life forever.
Chapter 35
“You didn’t know she was coming?” Delana asked James as the sound of sizzling oil filled the kitchen as she fried breadfruit.
James sat with his feet up on the wooden table. It was not something he’d ever done before but he was free to do anything he wanted here. “Not a clue.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know. Someone my grandmother dug up to annoy me.”
“Why would she do that?”
He shrugged. “I’ve stopped trying to figure her out years ago.”
Delana tapped his foot and he reluctantly put his feet on the ground and sat up straight. He heard her set the plate on the table and smelled the coconut milk she’d used to soak them in before frying the slices. “She doesn’t look like she wants to be here.”
“That’s good.”
“But you should clean up a bit. I think you frighten her.”
He rubbed his chin, pleased. “That’s also good.”
“She keeps staring at you funny.”
He didn’t care. He wasn’t curious. What anyone thought of him didn’t matter anymore.
“What if—”
“Don’t worry yourself. She won’t be staying long.”
“You don’t think she’s here to replace me?”
He hear
d the fear in her voice. “You’re safe. Nobody’s going to replace you. Your place is here with me.”
Michelle stared at the table where Delana had prepared fried breadfruit and callaloo plus fresh papaya. The two women sat alone. Delana made her apologies for James saying he had work to do. Michelle knew it was a slight. He was making it clear he had better things to do than to entertain an uninvited guest.
“So how long have you been here?” Michelle asked, hoping her voice sounded neutral.
“A year. It may not look like much, but this is heaven to me.”
Michelle took bite of her breadfruit. “What happened to your face?”
Delana’s hand flew to her cheek. “Nothing.”
“Did he do that to you?”
“James?” She shook her head. “Oh no. He saved me from…I have a good life.”
Michelle saw the fear in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t be in your way. I know what it’s like to be a new couple.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “A couple?” Delana threw her head back and laughed until tears filled her eyes. “Me and him?” She looked at Michelle’s surprised expression and laughed harder.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle said not understanding Delana’s laughter. She didn’t think it was that funny. “I thought you were together. You seem…close.”
Delana sobered, wiping tears from her eyes. “What a thought. Never. It’d never happen.”
Michelle felt her temper pricked. It wasn’t that crazy an assumption. James may look rough, but he was still good looking and clever. Perhaps Delana thought him too young or didn’t know his background and saw him as an eccentric foreigner. “Yes, I guess I was wrong.”
Delana nodded. “And don’t you try for him either. He’s married.”
She blinked. “He’s married?” Delana knew he was married?
“Yes. That’s the first thing he mentioned when I…well I…I met him a few years ago when I helped my older sister and her husband in the market. I remember him from all the other visitors because he was so distinctive and I noticed the older woman he was with. When he was alone, I flirted with him thinking it might go somewhere but then he lifted a necklace he saw for sale, mentioned something about wanting to buy it for his wife and that was it.”