* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“My brother’s here,” Justine announced. “You, Cassie, you get the door.”
I had already showered and dressed and was planning to spend the day reading in the bedroom, away from Justine and her boyfriend. I had only come into the living room on the way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I stopped and stared at Justine.
“Well, go ’head!” she ordered. “Don’t keep him waiting out there all day!”
Her order rankled me, but it was her place and I was only a guest in it. Though not happy about it, I went to the door and opened it. I was not prepared for the man on the other side. He looked nothing like I expected; he looked nothing like Justine. “You must be my sister’s houseguest,” he said, smiling, and his smile was like sunshine.
I nodded, feeling suddenly light-headed.
“Well, I’m Flynn. I hope Justine told you I was coming.”
“Well, let him in, why don’t cha, Cassie!” hollered Justine. “He won’t bite!”
I unlocked the screen door and pushed it forward. The man with the golden smile stepped inside and, unexpectedly, he bent his head toward mine and whispered in my ear. “Don’t let my sister get to you. She’ll bite, but I won’t let her bite you.”
I looked into dark eyes and was silent. “What you gawking at, boy?” Justine demanded to know. “Like you ain’t never seen a pretty girl before?”
Flynn kept his smile. “Don’t embarrass us, Justine.”
“What you mean? Ain’t embarrassing nobody! I see the electricity! Well, what I tell you, Cassie? Ain’t my baby brother fine?”
“You know what?” said Flynn, and to my surprise he took my hand. Also to my surprise, I let him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “My sister’s impossible when she figures she’s done something right.” He pushed the screen door open and I followed him out without a word spoken.
“All right! Be that way!” Justine hollered after us. “But be sure you name your firstborn after me!”
Flynn closed the door on her and led me down the steps. He never let go of my hand. When we reached the street he leaned against a foreign-looking car, silver-gray, parked there and I said, “I think we’re safe now.”
“She speaks,” he said, and fixed his eyes on me and again he smiled.
I felt the sensation of his look, then glanced down at our hands. “You can let go now,” I said.
“You sure you want me to?” he asked. His voice was evocative.His eyes were piercing.
I pulled my hand from his, hoping he had not felt how my body was trembling, but I could tell from his smile that he had. I felt my face growing hot. Trying to recover, I turned from him, then leaned against the apartment fencing, putting the sidewalk between us. “We weren’t introduced,” I said. “I’m Cassie Logan.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged, his face solemn now. “And I’m Flynn de Baca, and I must say you’re even prettier than Justine said you were.”
I glanced away, not sure how to respond to that, then turned back to him. “I’m surprised Justine told you that. I didn’t even think she liked me.”
He laughed. “Well, obviously she does. She’s been after me for weeks to meet you.”
“Really?” Now I laughed. “She’s been after me to meet you too.”
His laughter settled into a smile. “My sister, the matchmaker.”
There was silence between us for a moment, then I said, “De Baca, you said? I was thinking of you as Curry, but, of course, that’s Justine’s married name.”
“No,” he said. “She’s always been a Curry. I’ve always been De Baca.” I just looked at him. He shrugged. “Different fathers” was all he said.
“Oh.” I was feeling nervous. I changed the subject. “I don’t know what Justine told you about me, but I’m staying with her just for the weekend. I actually am living with my boss and his family. I was feeling a bit like I was in the way, so Justine invited me to stay with her over the weekend.”
“Yes, she told me.”
“Well . . .” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know what else she told you, but I’m not from Los Angeles. I’m originally from Mississippi.” I rattled on about my move to Ohio and how I had come to California with my brothers, been offered a job, and decided to stay. When there was nothing more for me to say, I finally grew quiet. I had never been one lost for words, but I was now. I took a deep breath and just let the quiet settle in. This man’s gaze was still upon me so I finally met his eyes and took him in fully for the first time. The man was gorgeous. He was tall and lanky and his skin had a reddish-golden tint. His dark hair was coarse like mine, clipped close to his head, his cheekbones were high, and his lips were tantalizing, once again ready for a smile. When the smile came, I knew at that moment this man was about to change my life.
He pulled away from the car and extended his hand to me. “Yes, my sister had pretty much told me all that. Now, if you’ll allow me to hold your hand again, we’ll walk.”
“Why do you need my hand to walk?” I asked coyly.
He leaned toward my ear once more. “Because I’m as struck by you as you are by me.”
I hesitated, then responded, “You’re sure about that?”
“Aren’t you?” he asked, his hand still extended.
Again I hesitated, then placed my hand in his. “Where are we going?”
“No place in particular, just walking. But don’t worry, you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”
I knew it was a flirtatious remark, but without really understanding why, I actually did feel safe with him and, holding the hand of a man I had met only minutes before, I walked down the street with him and listened as he talked and my world began to change. All that I could think was that he was beautiful, the moment was beautiful, and I felt beautiful too.
It was magical.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
I wanted to know more about Flynn but he seemed reluctant to talk much about himself. “Justine is the talker in our family,” he informed me.
“She didn’t tell me much about you except that I needed to meet you. She said she could guarantee that I’d like you.”
He flashed that smile. “And we both know that you do.”
I laughed at his cockiness, but I felt there was no need to hold back. Something about him made me want to be honest with him. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well, we’re off to a good start. By the way, Justine was right about another thing.”
“What’s that?”
“She said I’d like you too.”
I smiled. “So what about you? Tell me about yourself.”
“Me? Oh, I’m not very interesting. Just a soldier returning from the front in Europe, trying to get on with my life.” That was all he said about himself. He spoke of other things. He talked about the school we were approaching and proceeded to give an architectural history of it, and he did the same for several other buildings we passed. He seemed absorbed in all of them. When we reached a nearby church, he stopped. The church looked to be quite old. “Made of adobe,” Flynn said. “Built by Indians under supervision of Franciscan monks back around 1800.” He pointed to the belfry. “You see that bell up there? Took more than twenty men to raise it.”
I was impressed by what he had told me. “How’d you get to know so much about all these buildings?”
His eyes still on the belfry, Flynn said, “I love buildings, Cassie. They’re my passion.” He looked at me. “I work construction. One day I plan to be an architect. A builder.” Flynn then looked back to the church and continued giving more history about it, and as he spoke, he never let go of my hand. I listened intently to his every word. I was intrigued by him.
This man.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
When we returned to
Justine’s apartment building, Flynn saw me as far as her front door but said he would not be coming in. “Justine will have too many questions.” Justine, however, opened the door before he could leave.
“Well, you two back, huh?” she said. “Where’d you go?”
Flynn ignored her. “I’ll see you again,” he said to me, and only now released my hand.
I wanted to ask when, but I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I said instead, “I’d like that.”
“Well, what I tell you, boy?” Justine asked. “Wasn’t I right?”
Flynn smiled that fantastic smile and, without another word, kissed his sister on the cheek and left.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
I received a letter from Moe. Moe wrote me at least once a week, and I always wrote him back, but not always before his next letter came. He told me he was back to work at Ford, but his best news was that Morris was now with him. Levis had brought Morris in time for him to start school. Moe said it felt great to have family living with him in Detroit. Morris was doing well and though he was homesick, he was adjusting to Detroit. Moe also told me Morris looked forward to the frequent trips they took to Toledo, just as he did. Moe added that Dorr Street was not the same without me. He asked when I was coming back. I wrote and told him I didn’t know. I told him about my job and about Los Angeles. I described the city to him. I told him I missed everybody from back home, and I did. One thing I didn’t tell him was that I had met a man who filled all my waking hours with dreams and my nights with longing.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
When Flynn said he would see me again, I thought he meant soon, within a few days, a week. But then the days and the weeks passed, and I did not see Flynn again. After several weeks, I attempted to put the fantasy about Flynn to rest. There was a young man at church name of John Means who was interested in me and had asked me out. I wasn’t interested in John Means, but I finally said I would go to a movie and dinner with him. I mentioned the date to Justine when she asked about my weekend plans, and the very next day she asked me to dinner at her place for that same Saturday evening. “I’m sorry, Justine, I can’t,” I said. “I told you I already have plans.”
Her face soured into a look of disappointment as she sat at her desk sorting papers. “This man you’re going out with, he anything special to you?”
I just looked at Justine, smiled, and continued with my work. I figured it was not Justine’s business whether the man I was seeing on Saturday night was special or not. Besides, I had no intention of getting any closer to Justine or her family. It was clear to me now that I had not affected Flynn as he had affected me.
“Well, that’s too bad you not being able to come to dinner,” Justine went on when I didn’t answer her question. “I was going to invite my brother too.” I didn’t say anything to that. “You know, I wish you and my brother could get together. You’d be good for him. Maybe you’d find he could be good for you too.”
I pushed my work aside and rose from my desk. “Well, we’ll never know that, will we?”
“I told you before he’s got a woman. Older woman. Almost old as me. I don’t like her. She’s not good for him, and besides that, she’s crazy.”
“He’s in love with her?” I asked without emotion.
“No. He just don’t know how to get rid of her. You’re the kind of girl he needs, not this vampire woman!”
“Well . . . it’s none of my business.” I headed for the hallway.
“Too bad you think that way, ’cause it ought to be,” said Justine.
I turned at the doorway. “Why?”
“’Cause, he likes you. He didn’t say anything more than that, but I can tell. He was struck something powerful by you, and, girl, I know you was struck something powerful by him too.”
I just stared at Justine without acknowledging her comment and with papers in hand went down the hall to Mr. Tomlinson’s office.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
Christopher-John called. He said he and Becka were going to be married the Sunday after Christmas at Great Faith following church services. That is how most couples married, right after the services, and the congregation attending the services just stayed on for the wedding. No invitations were sent out, just the announcement was made in church and everybody was invited. I wished I could be there. Christopher-John told me he wished that too, but Stacey and Man were going south with him. He planned to bring Becka back to Toledo and the two would be staying in one of the upstairs rooms. I was happy for him.
Mr. Tomlinson closed the office during the holidays and I went to Oakland by train to be with Uncle Hammer and Aunt Loretta. Aunt Loretta had family in the area and she invited them all over for Christmas dinner. It was a good time to be around family and it helped take my mind off Flynn. I returned to Los Angeles New Year’s Day and went back to the Tomlinsons. The children were happy to see me, and so was Mrs. Tomlinson. Mr. Tomlinson was polite and smiling. I kept my guard up.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
There was nothing specific I could put my finger on about the way Rowland Tomlinson was with me. I knew I was in so many ways naïve around men. I had always been protected, sheltered, by Papa, Mama, Big Ma, by my brothers. I kept telling myself that maybe I was reading more into Rowland Tomlinson’s movements, his looks toward me, his choice of words to me than there actually was. I kept thinking I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. But I also kept telling myself I was not stupid. Then there came a Friday afternoon in late January when Rowland Tomlinson asked me to work late. He said that there was a contract that had to be finished. He said he would need my help to do it. I asked Justine if she was staying to help with the paperwork. She said she was not. Rowland Tomlinson hadn’t asked her to stay. Her eyes narrowed. “You staying here alone with him?” Her voice was full of apprehension.
“The contract’s got to be done,” I explained, choosing not to voice my concern.
“Uh-huh.” She was silent a moment, then said, “You want me to stay? I can find something to do.”
I thought for a moment about asking her to stay, but then decided against it. I figured I was probably being foolish about Rowland Tomlinson. So far, there had been nothing overt in his actions. “No, there’s no need for you to do that. Besides, Deacon Barnett will be here. He always cleans up on Friday.”
Justine nodded hesitantly. We both trusted Deacon Barnett, who was deacon at the church I attended and a close friend to Mr. Strickland, and who also worked as janitor at the office. “So, I guess I’ll go on, huh?”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Justine gathered her things. “S’pose if you work later, Mr. Tomlinson, he’ll take you home too?”
“If it’s not too late, I can still take the bus. I’d like to go to the library.”
“On a Friday night?”
“Well, that’s what I’ll tell him.” I didn’t say anything further. I did not want to confide in Justine. I did not want her becoming my ally; yet, as she studied me, I felt that she was.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
At the end of the day, after Justine and the rest of the office staff had gone, Deacon Barnett had not yet arrived. On Fridays, like clockwork, he arrived just before five o’clock, quitting time for the rest of us. But today, as I checked the wall clock at ten past the hour, he had not arrived. I chose not to worry about it as I tackled the pile of papers before me. They were handwritten papers that Mr. Tomlinson said needed to be typed so that he could file them on a trucking bid with city hall first thing Monday morning. The forms were familiar and I knew from my weeks working in the office that Mr. Tomlinson always submitted such forms typewritten.
I typed steadily for more than an hour, and during that time Rowland Tomlinson stayed in his office. As I made my way through the pile of
papers, I kept checking the clock. Deacon Barnett still had not come. I concentrated on my work and tried to dismiss the time and Deacon Barnett’s absence. But with half the typing finished, Mr. Tomlinson emerged from his office. “So, how is it going, Cassie?” he asked.
He came around the side of the desk to stand behind me. I didn’t look up at him. I just kept on typing. “I should be finished soon,” I said.
“How soon?” he asked.
Still not looking up, I replied. “Maybe another hour.”
Rowland Tomlinson stood behind my chair and looked over my shoulder. I felt nervous with his standing there, but I continued typing. Then, after a minute or two, he reached over my right shoulder and placed one hand on the desk to the right of the typewriter, and then placed his other hand to the left of the typewriter, enclosing me between. My back was to him. I stopped typing. He leaned down close and whispered, “You think that’ll give us enough time?”
I was naïve, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew exactly what he meant. I jerked backward, attempting to rise, but Rowland Tomlinson blocked me with his arms.
“Oh, come now, Cassie. You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly, his breath against my ear. “I know you want this as much as I do.”
I pushed back in the chair and tried to stand, but he laughed at my effort, keeping his hands firmly on the desk, his body obstructing my movement. Then suddenly his laughter stopped and he released me. He stepped back and I immediately sprang from the chair, looked into his face, and stepped away from him. He was no longer looking at me. I followed his gaze.
All the Days Past, All the Days to Come Page 15