“He sounds wonderful,” Petra said.
“He was wonderful,” Alia said softly, smiling at Petra.
“He is wonderful,” Petra said firmly, smiling back.
“He is wonderful,” Alia repeated, with more confidence.
* * *
When they landed at Washington Dulles International Airport in Loudon, VA, a driver in a large black SUV met them in front of the terminal. By that time, Chance had ascertained the steps they needed to take in order to extricate Adam, if he indeed was Adam, from the predicament he was in. Adam was a naturalized American citizen, so he had certain rights under the US Constitution. Still it made Chance nervous that his brother-in-law was being debriefed at the Pentagon.
First, they had a drive ahead of them because the Pentagon was located outside of Washington, DC in Arlington, across the Potomac River. The last time Chance had been in Washington, DC, it had been to attend President Barack Obama’s second inauguration along with the rest of his family. Those circumstances were much more pleasant than these. Just the thought of Adam, a gentle giant, being interrogated at the Pentagon gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Once in the car, Chance, who was riding in the passenger seat next to the driver, turned around to direct a question to Alia, who was in the back with the others. “Alia, I know you said you wanted to go directly to the Pentagon, but are you sure? You haven’t had much sleep.”
Alia, whose eyes had dark circles around them but still held a determined aspect, nodded. “I won’t be able to sleep until I see Adam,” she said.
“All right,” said Chance, knowing it was useless to argue with her. “Please take us to the Pentagon,” he instructed the driver, a young African American man in a traditional chauffeur’s uniform, including the cap.
“Yes, Mr. Youngblood,” he answered. “That’s a forty-one-minute drive from here.”
“Thank you,” Chance said, and fastened his seat belt.
* * *
Under different circumstances, Petra would be enjoying the view out of the window of the moving car. It was a beautiful sunny, cloudless day in Virginia. She was always happy to be back on Southern soil. A Southern girl through and through, she loved the greenery in this part of the country. The slower pace, as compared to New York City. The general friendliness of the people.
However, the atmosphere in the car was tense. No one was talking. She had a crazy urge to tell a joke, anything to relieve the oppressive silence. But she didn’t because everyone had their own way of coping with a crisis. Chance’s family was so different from her own. With the Gaineses, right about now, someone would be making the others laugh out loud. She remembered Meghan telling her about when she’d gone to the hospital to be with Lauren when she delivered C.J. Lauren was in pain and still laughing. Her family could be in the middle of a major argument, then someone would make a hysterical comment and everyone would crack up. Gaineses had even been known to laugh at a funeral.
Suddenly, Brock’s stomach growled so loudly, everyone heard it. “Look,” he said, “I haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday. I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a growing boy with a tapeworm, obviously,” said Debra. “You ate on the plane with the rest of us.”
“Those snacks don’t even qualify as food,” was Brock’s opinion on that subject. “What do you have in your shoulder bag, Mom?”
Debra rolled her eyes at him. Petra’s interest was piqued. What was Brock referring to?
Alia smiled. “I could swear I smell cinnamon and other spices.”
Debra sighed. She reached into her voluminous bag and withdrew a large Hefty bag filled with homemade oatmeal cookies. She handed the bag to Alia. “I couldn’t sleep while we were waiting for the plane to be ready, so I made Adam’s favorite cookies.”
Alia, who was sitting between her mother and Petra, handed the bag to Petra then hugged her mother. “You’re so sweet.”
Brock cleared his throat. “Can I have one of those?”
Alia laughed. “Why not? I think everybody could use a cookie right now.”
So Petra opened the bag and handed it around. Soon, all that could be heard in the car were the sounds of delicious oatmeal cookies being consumed by everyone, including the driver, who didn’t hesitate when he was offered one of the treats.
Petra decided the Youngbloods had more in common with her family than she’d originally thought.
* * *
At the Pentagon, Chance and the rest of his party were ushered into the office of Colonel Edward Butler, the officer who was in charge of debriefing Adam. Colonel Butler appeared to be in his midforties and possessed a calm demeanor. His assistant brought in more chairs so everyone could be seated, and when they were, he sat down behind his desk and regarded them with a solemn expression.
Chance made the introductions, after which Colonel Butler took a deep breath and started talking, his accent undeniably Southern. “I thought it best to warn you that Dr. Braithwaite may not look quite the same as when you saw him last. When we found him, he was malnourished and in a very unkempt state. The people who kidnapped him are considered, shall we say, rather unorthodox in their beliefs and practices. I won’t get into the political ramifications of their actions. That’s not my province. The government wants you to know we never gave up on rescuing Dr. Braithwaite and we regret it took so long to accomplish our goals. I’m sure Dr. Braithwaite will fill you in on how he survived all these months. It truly is a harrowing tale, and he’s lucky to be alive.”
“Since he’s been here with us, Dr. Braithwaite has been allowed to bathe and shave and get some much-needed sleep. He’s been seen by a physician who says he’s healthy except for malnutrition. And I’m sure you’ll understand that he may have some psychological issues to deal with due to his experience with his captors.”
Chance felt chills running up his spine. He feared the future for Alia and Adam would be bleak and filled with uncertainty and pain. They had both already been through enough.
Colonel Butler paused in his recitation of the events leading up to their presence there. He sat behind his desk and looked at each of them in turn. Then he said, “All right. If you’re ready, I’ll take you to Dr. Braithwaite.”
Chance looked to Alia for confirmation. She nodded, and he said, “We’re ready.”
They followed Colonel Butler down a long corridor, Alia flanked by her parents directly behind Colonel Butler and Brock behind them, with Chance bringing up the rear beside Petra. He took the opportunity to reach for her hand and bend close to her. “How’re you holding up, Pet?” he asked softly.
She smiled up at him, and as always, her smile gave him life.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said equally softly. She brought his hand up and kissed the back of it. “Everything is going to be okay.”
For a moment, his anxieties were lifted by that positive affirmation. But as soon as Colonel Butler opened the door of the room where Adam was waiting, they all came rushing back.
Adam, who used to be a big muscular guy with a penchant for order in all things, from his surroundings to his appearance to his very thought system, looked like a man who had never known what peace and security were. He was still tall, of course. But due to major weight loss, he was haggard, and his eyes appeared more deep set than they used to be. His eyes were always the first indication of what Adam was thinking. Before he would open his mouth, you would know what kind of mood he was in. He was a sociable, gregarious guy who was somewhat of a nerd due to his genius IQ, but a total people person. He was the kind of person you loved to be around because you never knew what kind of earth-shattering notions would come out of his mouth.
Dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants and a pair of athletic shoes which, Chance was sure, were items the authorities had scraped up for him to wear after they’d rescued him, Adam was a shell of his former self.
Alia ran into his arms then. “Oh, my God, Adam. Adam, I thought I’d lost you forever!”
Both she and Adam were crying as they hugged and kissed each other’s faces repeatedly.
Chance held Petra in his arms. She was weeping, too. He had to fight back tears himself. His parents were in a huddle with Brock, and they were crying. Their tears were ones of happiness and relief. Adam was alive.
Chapter 12
“We still haven’t decided when and where we’re going to get married,” Chance reminded Petra on a Monday morning in late October. They were in her apartment in Harlem, sitting at the island in the kitchen. Her building wasn’t far from Alia’s building or his parents’ brownstone. Earlier he’d protested when she’d told him she was moving to Harlem. Now he was glad she was in Harlem. He was spending more time here lately to be closer to his family and his fiancée. With Adam’s return, he simply wanted to be nearby if he was needed.
However, Adam seemed to be recovering nicely. Physically, he’d put on weight and looked a hundred percent healthier than he had when they’d seen him at the Pentagon. Adam had also decided to talk with a therapist about his experience with his kidnappers, and Alia had told Chance that the appointments were going well.
Meanwhile, he vowed to concentrate on him and Petra. Last night they had gotten back to New York after spending the last two days in Raleigh, where they’d helped to celebrate the marriage of Meghan to Leo. The first night, Friday, he and Petra had split up, with Petra joining her sisters and friends for a night on the town. He had gone to the bachelor party Jake had thrown for Leo. There, he’d gotten to know all of the men, Jake, Leo, Colton and Decker, who were either married to or preparing to marry one of the Gaines sisters. They all had one thing in common: they were strong men. He suspected a man had to be sure of himself if he were to live the rest of his life with one of the sisters. The women were all accomplished, something he attributed to their parents.
Their mother, Virginia, struck him as very strong willed. She must have been an important influence on her daughters. Their father, Alphonse, had also, by all indications, set a fine example for his daughters. Petra told him how their father always said they could do and be anything they wanted to. The sky was the limit. He also touted physical fitness, she’d said, inculcating in them the desire to be the best they could be.
Chance and Petra ran together most mornings, and she was as good an athlete as he was, if not better. He had been running for years and enjoyed weight training. But martial arts were beyond his abilities. She was more of a well-rounded athlete than he was.
Petra was doing something on her laptop this morning. She’d finished eating breakfast and was typing rapidly. Oh, yeah, the book. How could he have forgotten she was writing a book about her experiences in the Congo? The book was supposed to be a tie-in to the show. They would release it after the show’s debut in December.
She was wearing her robe (he was in his, too), her hair in disarray, and for some reason, she had a pencil dangling between her teeth. What she was doing with a pencil in this day and age, he couldn’t fathom. Eventually, every form of writing would be done electronically and be paperless, let alone pencil-less. He smiled at her quirkiness.
She looked up at him, her big brown eyes wide with curiosity. “What?” she asked innocently as she took the pencil from between her teeth and placed it on the island’s countertop. “What was that you said about the wedding?”
“It’s time we set a date,” he said. “I want to be married to you sooner rather than later. Or are you trying to get out of it altogether?”
She met his eyes over her laptop. “I’m not trying to get out of anything. I’d marry you tomorrow.”
“Convenient, isn’t it, that you can’t arrange a wedding in twenty-four hours.”
“You could if you went to Vegas,” she countered smartly.
It was like the sky opened and revealed Nirvana to him. “I know you’re just being your adorable sarcastic self,” he said. “But Vegas sounds good to me.”
Petra pushed her laptop aside and gave him her undivided attention. “Tell me you’re joking!”
He grinned, and that must have convinced her of his sincerity more than words could ever say because she got up and complacently went into his open arms as he sat on his stool at the island. He kissed the side of her neck, enjoying the scent of her skin and hair. “Who says we can’t get married twice? Once in Vegas, and then another ceremony for family and friends. What’s important is the marriage, not the wedding.”
“I totally agree,” she said. She paused a long moment before looking him in the eyes and saying, “We haven’t even talked about the legal stuff.”
“Oh, you mean a prenuptial agreement? I’m not marrying you for your money.” He laughed shortly.
“Laugh if you want to,” Petra said seriously. “But we both know that’s the first thing people are going to say, that I’m marrying you for money. You’re worth a whole lot more than I am.”
“You’re invaluable to me,” was his reply, pulling her in for a squeeze. “I know how you feel about wealth, Pet. You think it corrupts people who don’t have their heads on straight. Remember when we first met? You were afraid I was like Graham—a spoiled rich boy. You found out differently. Money hasn’t transformed me, or my family, into elitist snobs. We’re as human as anyone else. We’re generous, caring people. You know because you’ve spent time with us. You won’t just be getting me when you marry me. You’ll be getting my family because I’ll always be close to them. They are my heart. Now, you are number one on my list. So, will you marry me and forget about the money? And if you do turn out to be a gold digger and take me for everything I have, I can always earn more money.”
She playfully punched him in the arm. He figured he deserved it.
“This weekend?” he asked hopefully.
She didn’t answer, but instead began loosening the belt of her robe. He smiled.
He was still smiling when their mouths met.
* * *
Petra wondered what had lit a fire under Chance. After he had talked her into getting married in Las Vegas, he arranged everything. He decided on a chapel on South Sixth Street, and Chance, of course, chose the most expensive package offered by the chapel, which included a limousine picking them up at their hotel, music during the service and digital photos of the wedding, plus a wedding DVD, flowers for both of them and a candle-lit ceremony.
She wore a white Ralph Lauren lace sheath dress, the hem of which fell just above her knees, and a pair of high-heeled sandals, her hair parted in the middle and falling about her shoulders. Chance wore a suit in cobalt blue with a white shirt, tie and black dress shoes.
They were in a playful mood all day. Every experience they shared was a laughing matter. It was the first day on the job for the limo driver, and he had trouble figuring out the limo’s GPS so they got lost twice before getting to the chapel. When they got there, everyone was so nice to them. But the minister kept calling Petra “Peetra.”
The minister’s mispronouncing her name aside, though, the ceremony was touching. She and Chance held hands, and when the minister asked them if they’d prepared their own vows, t
hey told him they had. Chance then looked into her eyes and said, “Pet, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were unique. I’d never met a woman so unconcerned with her outward appearance. And your coat smelled like that stuff Mom used to rub on my chest when I got a cold as a kid. But when you smiled at me, I was smitten. And when you started talking, I knew I was a goner. I could spend the rest of my life talking to you about anything and everything and never get tired of it. I’ll always love you. Even when I’m ninety and can’t lift you anymore. I want your face to be the last thing I see when I leave this earth. And when I get to heaven, I’ll start searching for a house for us to live in once you join me up there.”
He wasn’t even halfway through what he had to say before Petra started crying. She wept silent tears as she said her own vows: “You should have known me just a year ago. I boasted to my sisters that marriage was good for men but horrible for women. I told them that marriage was outdated and women had outgrown it. But the fact was, I was hurting from a bad relationship and had adopted that attitude to avoid getting hurt again. Then I met you and your joie de vivre, your ability to make me laugh at myself and your knack for always having a comeback whenever I pointed out why we shouldn’t be together won me over. I’m yours. My heart belongs to you, and I hope we live forever because forever isn’t long enough to spend with you.”
When the minister pronounced them husband and wife and told Chance he could kiss his bride, they tasted each other’s tears as they kissed.
After the wedding, upon returning to their hotel room, Chance insisted on carrying her over the threshold. He joked about her being a bit heavier than usual, but she felt great, although, her breasts were a bit tender. That could be attributed to rough lovemaking, though. Chance was the most passionate lover she’d ever had. Plus, the frequency with which they made love was unprecedented for her. Chance cared about her pleasure more than his own and always made sure she was satisfied.
Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart Page 28
