He scooted the stool closer to the table. She placed her left arm on his thigh as if it was an armrest. Omar noticed her ring for the first time.
“Somebody thinks well of you. A very beautiful ring.”
“Thank you,” Nesta and Ian both said.
“Oh, you’re marrying a brother?” Omar turned to Fox., “Does this mean an opening in North America?
“It does. We’ll talk later.”
“Ready to leave the desert?” Kingsley asked.
“More than ready.”
Since when do we talk Hunter business around others? Fox asked the three men mentally. They all nodded and, from that moment, all other small talk was about the game.
Kingsley was surprised and a little hurt that Fox would ask such a question. He assumed that, now that Nesta knew, they could talk openly around her as they had Dot on many past occasions.
When he looked up from his cards, Fox was staring at him from across the table. Kingsley hadn’t shielded his thoughts. He hoped Fox wasn’t having one of his bad moments.
“What?” Kingsley asked when Fox just kept staring.
“What-is-your-bid, man! Pay attention to the game! If I had wanted to partner with a space cadet, I would have sat opposite Dorothy Jean.”
Dot shoved Fox’s shoulder hard. “Have I said one unkind word to you all night?”
Ian saw Omar’s body jerk involuntarily. He also saw Omar brace himself for what could come next. Ian imagined, like himself, Omar had never seen anybody physically assault the Pale Fox.
The verbal taunt was all Dot needed. For the rest of the night, she was on. “Since all bets are off, let me start by asking you what would make a grown-ass man go out and get a shirt that color?”
Fox laughed so hard he had to put his cards down. “The saleswoman said it looked good on me.”
Kingsley smiled. “I pass.”
“One word, Ogo. Commission. Clearly the child worked on commission!”
“You’ve got the bid, Uncle.”
“I’m not saying I don’t like it. If it had been around when we were looking for a color to paint our baby girl’s room.”
Nesta had hoped the game was winding down, but she knew now that her mother and uncle were doing their shtick, which was all their bickering ever was, it would last a little longer. She was tired, but knowing that she wouldn’t be around for many evenings like this one in the future, she sat back to enjoy it.
Chapter Thirty
On the day of the party, Nesta woke to an empty house. She started her search in the guest room that Ian was using, but she knew he wasn’t there. His scent was faint, like he’d been gone for at least an hour. There was a vacant feeling in her stomach that she was beginning to recognize as a common occurrence whenever he wasn’t around. How will I survive if I don’t return to California with him? But how will my parents make out if I do?
She was skilled at hiding her feelings, waiting until a better time to think about a problem. It was an ability she’d taught herself as a child. But the party day was the trigger she’d set aside as the beginning of the end. The end of Ian’s stay.
She sat on the made bed. He’s a skilled warrior, he will survive for a few months until I prepare my parents for my move, she told herself. He’s been around a long time without me. The thought depressed her. She turned back the bedspread and pulled out one of his pillows. Nesta hugged it close to her face and took a deep breath. His scent was a memory drug that started a pulse between her legs—not what she had planned. A couple of months, my ass—I won’t be able to go a couple of days without him. She turned the pillow over and took a hearty sniff of it too.
She was thinking of molesting his other pillow when she experienced the sensation of being watched.
She knew it wasn’t a reaction to anything immediate, but that didn’t make it false. Nesta walked through the house and confirmed that she was alone. Uncle Ogo, Aunt Ife? Both of them had told her they never visited in secret. She stilled herself, closed her eyes, and let the sensation come to her. When she opened them she walked to the living room picture window. Peeking from behind the drapes, she saw a van parked in front of the house. It was not in the driveway, but directly in front of the window.
Where have I seen that van before? As she thought the words, a scene replayed in her head.
She was upstairs in her bedroom. Ian was walking through the door with a tray of snacks. Just before she’d kicked off her shoes to join Ian on the bed, she had glanced out the front window and noticed the van.
And now it was back.
Only her birth was more significant than the next thing that happened in Nesta Avery’s life.
A wave of anger ran through her. She thought about her father and uncle walking around the kitchen and back porch talking about the security breech after the carpet cleaning. “Security breech” was the phrase her uncle had used. At another time, when everybody wasn’t looking so scared, the expression would have tickled her. It was the kind of thing that would have made her glance at her mother, and both of them would have been forced to look away to avoid laughing aloud.
Nesta did look at Dot after Ogo said, “security breech,” and her mother looked like she was on the verge of tears.
You will not ruin this for my parents. You will not ruin my limited time with Ian.
The anger that accompanied the thought surprised her, but not nearly as much as the next action.
Flash.
She was suddenly standing outside in her gown and robe. Her feet were bare. The van was inches away, and she was reaching for the passenger door handle. Nesta’s most solid thought came when she touched the handle. I’ll kill you before I let you take this from them or from me.
Through the shaded windows, the two inside the van saw the look in the woman’s eyes. They knew what it meant. The driver hit the gas.
Nesta watched the retreating van, and then she looked at the door handle still in her hands.
“Aunt Ife?” she whispered, staring down as if it was the handle’s name.
Nesta felt the familiar arms around her. “Let’s go inside and talk, baby.”
* * * *
She felt like she was watching herself from afar. Nesta was sitting next to her aunt in a place they had shared many times in the past, but everything was different.
“The things we’ll talk about must never be repeated to anybody, not even Ian,” Ife told her.
“Is it information that will cause him harm in not having it?” Nesta asked.
Ife smiled. “No, quite the opposite. But that question tells me how much you love him. I’m happy for you, Nesta.”
Nesta smiled and nodded.
For the next half hour, Ife told her everything she could about her conception and what it meant.
“I believe you are coming into your own. I’m still not convinced that what I’m seeing is anything but your Dogon-Hunter genes in love, but to be on the safe side, you must remember the safeguards I taught you.”
“I will,” Nesta promised.
“Somebody is coming; can you feel it?”
“Yes,” Nesta agreed. “I do feel something like anticipation.”
“None of us can see the future with one hundred percent accuracy, but I like to think of it this way: humans can stand in the middle of the road and look around and see what’s happening. We can hover over the road and see more of what’s coming.” Ife finished the coffee she was drinking and stood. “Can you tell me who’s coming?”
Nesta stilled herself. “He’s not driving or coming by car. It must be Ian. He must have been out walking.”
Ife nodded.
“Yes, that’s it. When I said it aloud, it registered as truth,” Nesta added.
Again Ife nodded. “I don’t want him to find me here. I’ll see you later this evening, my dear.”
Ife disappeared. A few minutes later Ian entered through the back door.
“Well, look who’s finally up,” he said as he approached her. He leane
d in and kissed her neck. “Did you miss me?”
“I did. Where were you?”
“Learning your neighborhood. I found two houses for sale.” He immediately regretted mentioning that when he saw her face light up.
“You would consider moving here?”
“Nesta, I would consider moving anywhere on earth to be with you, but no, I do not want to live in a place that gets as cold as Chicago.”
She nodded. After her talk with Ife, she knew visiting her parents whenever she wanted probably would not be an issue. A chill ran through her. The thought that she might be some kind of demigod did not concern her, not yet. It was the notion that her mother might not be her mother that made her sick to her stomach.
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you getting sick?” he asked. He embraced her from behind. Leaning his face against her neck, he nuzzled her to determine if she was running a fever. “Are you still having cramps?”
“No, my period has stopped already.”
“Is that normal?”
It wasn’t normal, but she now realized why nothing about her periods or any other physical condition had ever been “normal.”
“I guess it is for me.”
“You smell so good.” He licked the rim of her ear. “If we could figure out a way to bottle your scent, we could corner the perfume market.”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind about having sex with me here, you need to leave my ear alone.”
He took one last nibble before he pulled away. “Are we here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Come keep me company while I take a shower.”
She laughed. “You really want to torture me, don’t you?”
“Me, torture you? Please!”
She started walking toward the stairs as she answered. “That’s right. What am I supposed to do while you’re showering?”
He followed her upstairs. “You can wash my back.”
* * * *
Later, she lay across his bed, watching while he dressed for the day. “My parents probably think we’re sleeping together. We’re wasting valuable time.”
“No, they’re not thinking that. Not your father anyway.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“His sense of smell is strong like mine.”
She laughed.
“What’s funny?” He finished with his belt and sat down next to her.
“If he smells anything, it’s that lavender you wear.”
He fought the urge to touch her. “We’d better get back downstairs.”
She laid her head on his thigh. “Why? Don’t you trust yourself?”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Not in the least.” Ian stood and held out his hand to her. She reluctantly took it.
“What were you saying about lavender? I don’t wear any kind of fragrance. That’s your lavender you smell.”
Dot was in the kitchen, putting away some last-minute groceries. She heard Ian’s comment. “I need to tell you kids about that lavender smell,” she told them when they entered the kitchen.
Nesta and Ian looked at each other. They both smiled.
“We’re not talking about that lavender soap, Mom.”
“I know. Come over here and sit down for a few minutes.”
Nesta and Ian exchanged confused looks again.
* * * *
Ife and her date came an hour early to help Dot. Ian thought about it later and realized he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was when he and Nesta came in from out back to find Ife and Rico in the kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” Ian asked.
“He’s my date. Have you got a problem with that, Hunter?”
Ian looked at the statuesque woman who was wearing blue jean hip- hugger bell bottoms and a floral halter top. “No, ma’am, I hope you both enjoy yourself.” He looked at Rico, who had the decency not to laugh.
Fox and his date, a beautiful young woman named Bumne, arrived just before the first big wave, which was three carloads of Dot’s relatives. Fox was dressed from head to toe in a white bell bottom suit like Ron O’Neal’s in Super Fly. Nesta thought he was breath-takingly handsome, but his straight hair made her laugh the first few times she looked at him.
Dot started worrying when nobody else had arrived after the initial group of about forty-five.
By ten o’clock, however, there were over one hundred people in the house, and Dot decided it was time to make her announcements.
She turned down the music and took a wireless microphone from the DJ.
“There are only a few rules tonight,” she said, smiling. “Everybody must dance. We don’t care about your skill level, but we will ask all non dancers to leave. . .”
A few people laughed, and Kingsley, who’d been sitting on a kitchen stool, stood. “You all think my wife is kidding. Anybody who’s ever been to one of our parties knows she is not!”
There were enough side conversation in the way of testimony to convince Ian they were serious.
“Second, if you’ve got them, you’re free to smoke them, but take it in the study and close the door or smoke outside.”
“What kind of smoke?” somebody shouted, and there was laughter.
“I’ve been speaking English my whole life, and you will notice that I did not say cigarettes, but I should warn you there are CIA, FBI, and a few local police officers in attendance tonight. It’s up to you to figure out who they are.”
“Is she serious?” Ian whispered in Nesta’s ear. He knew that some retired Hunters enjoyed working in law enforcement, but he didn’t know they went up as high as CIA.
“I believe so. I’ve heard her talk about people she calls Daddy’s alphabet friends.”
“And last, although we will be playing their music, there will be no discussion about the Whispers and the Chi Lites tonight.” Almost everybody laughed. “Now, have fun.”
Ian pulled Nesta to the steps. They both sat. “What did that mean?” he asked. He hated being on the outside of a joke.
“My father and Uncle Ogo went almost six months without speaking to each other because they couldn’t stop arguing about the music of those two groups. I wasn’t born yet, but their friends refer to it as the great debate of 1972.”
Ian smiled. “I wish I had known your father back then. I’ve got a feeling my life would have been happier.”
“But then you would have been Uncle Ian, and my life wouldn’t have been happier.”
He rubbed the rim of her ear, and she leaned in to rub his hand with her cheek. “Good point, little girl. Let’s go party.”
And party they did. Ian had always believed it was almost impossible to get a Hunter drunk.
He’d assumed their bodies reacted to alcohol the same way his did: small bursts of drunkenness that passed quickly without an accumulative effect. That night, he learned that active Hunters could not get drunk—retired, mated, Hunters could and did get as sloppy as Dot’s relatives. And as far as he was concerned, Dot’s family was unparalleled in the ability to consume extraordinary amounts of hard liquor. Only about half of the group of about twenty, whom Nesta introduced as relatives, got ridiculous while in the cups.
There were several highlights on a night that would go down as the most fun he’d ever had with strangers. Fox and Kingsley’s singing a duet of “Stand By Me.” And Fox, Kingsley and three other retired Hunters singing an old Funkadelic song called “Can You Get to That.” They were all playing air instruments while they sung at the top of their voices.
Fox had earlier warned guest that he hoped, for the sake of those attending, that none of them would be foolish enough to record anything they saw him do on a cell phone camera. However, Ian was standing next to Rico when he heard Rico promise Ife anything he had to make a video of Fox during his bass renderings of, “I want to know if you can get to that!” Every time he sung it, everybody who knew him laughed. Dot laughed until tears ran down her face. Ife held up her hand with the palm facing Fox like she was k
eeping the beat. When the song was over, she looked at her palm, which showed nothing Ian could see, and said to Rico, “I got all of it.”
It turned out Ife’s recording wasn’t necessary. Fox warned the crowd in Illinois, but he didn’t warn the group who were was able to enjoy Kingsley’s party on the big screen at Sean’s wedding reception in Louisiana. There was no sound, but they saw everything.
The DJ announced that he was playing a song for the newly engaged couple and it would be their dance alone. Nesta shot a look at her mother, and Dot laughed. Before the song was over, he announced that all the couples in love could join them. Dot and Kingsley were the first couple to join them on the floor
Scented Dreams ((A Dogon-Hunters Series Novel)) Page 35