If Only You Knew

by Carla Fredd

  Her brown eyes glowed with happiness. There among the noisy crowd of her family, Ric felt desire rise up within him. He wanted her. He wanted to taste her sweet lips, to hear the moans she made when she was aroused.

  "Ric?"

  "What?"

  "Are you having a good time? You're not bored, are you?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face.

  "No, I'm not bored."

  "Good," she sighed in relief. "I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long, but Mom needed help."

  "No problem. Your uncle has been filling me in on the Robinson family history."

  "Which uncle?"

  "That one," he said looking across the room.

  Anna May followed his gaze. "Oh. Uncle Clyde. Take what he said to you with a grain of salt. Uncle Clyde tends to exaggerate."

  He smiled. "You mean you aren't smart as a whip?"

  "Uncle Clyde is a very wise man," she said solemnly.

  A piercing whistle sounded in the room. "Listen up, everybody," Steven Jr. said. "It's time for the birthday boy to open his gifts. Good thing, too. I don't think Anna May or James could wait much longer."

  "Hey," she said indignantly.

  Steven Jr. ignored her. "Let's sing to my little brother so we can eat the chocolate cake Mom's been guarding like the crown jewels."

  Ric joined in the very off-key rendition of the birthday song. When the song ended, he learned James wasn't much better than Anna May when it came to opening gifts. Within minutes the neatly wrapped gifts were reduced to scraps of paper on the floor. Watching in amusement as James opened the last gift, he put his arms around Anna May's shoulders. Her smile sent heat coursing through him.

  Three days, he reminded himself. He had to wait for three more days to make love to his wife.

  "Dad, how did you know I wanted this?" James's excited voice interrupted his thoughts. James held up a box with a familiar Black and Decker logo. Ric's opinion of Mr. Robinson increased. He had that same tool in his attic.

  "I saw you looking at it when we were in the hardware store. I figured you could help me finish the room downstairs." Mr. Robinson laughed.

  "Oh, no," Anna May said. "There goes Mr. Tooltime."

  James smiled and opened the box. "Let's go try it out now."

  "James Robinson," Mrs. Robinson said in a stern voice. "You put that thing back in the box. You're going to cut the cake and enjoy it."

  "But—''James added.

  Mrs. Robinson held up her hand. "In the kitchen for cake, young man."

  Ric watched in amusement as James put away his tool.

  "Don't worry, son," her father said putting his arm around his son's shoulder. "We'll go downstairs right after we finish the cake."

  "Hmm," Mrs. Robinson replied.

  They did exactly that. All the men of the family went downstairs.

  "Come on, Ric," her father said. "You've got to see this."

  He put down his half-eaten cake and followed the men downstairs. Insulation and Sheetrock lined the walls of the unfinished room. Ric felt instantly at ease among the chaos of construction.

  "So this is why you told us to wear jeans, James?" one of the uncles asked.

  "Yes. You don't know how much we've been looking forward to this. Mom is convinced we need a contractor to finish the room, but Dad and I can do it. We went to the Home Depot class last week," James said.

  "Ha," Steven Jr. said. "That's what you said about putting up tile in my house. I had to hire somebody to redo your work."

  "That was last year. All we have to do is lay the insulation and put up the Sheetrock," James interjected.

  "Right, Mr. Tooltime," Steven Jr. scoffed.

  "He's right," Ric said quietly and regretted he'd said anything when everyone looked at him.

  "You know construction?" one of the cousins asked.

  "Yes. I'm finishing my attic now," Ric answered.

  "Let's get to it then," James said, hefting a roll of insulation to the far wall.

  Within minutes and after a few instructions, the men had most of room insulated. Ric and Steven Jr. finished the wall they were working on and watched as the others completed their task.

  "Good thing you were here. Dad and James would have messed up this room for sure."

  Ric agreed, but he wasn't about to say it with Mr. Robinson a few feet away.

  "I heard that," Mr. Robinson said. "See if we help you fix anything again."

  "You promise?" Steven Jr. replied.

  Ric joined in the laughter as father and son matched wits. For all the teasing and joking among her family, he could see that the Robinson family truly cared for each other. They weren't so bad. For a family.

  Chapter 13

  "Are you going to buy it or stare at it forever?" Ric asked from his position behind the shopping cart. The farmers' market was filled this Monday night with shoppers buying exotic produce from around the world, and it seemed Anna May had to study each and every one of them before leaving.

  He should have known a quick trip to the market wasn't possible for her. The last time they went to the grocery store, she had him there for an hour and a half.

  She smiled at him in that patient way of hers. "I just want to make sure it's fresh."

  How could she tell, he wondered to himself. The yellow bulb-shaped thing she was holding didn't look like something he wanted to eat. "What is that?"

  She raised her brows in surprise. "Rutabaga."

  "Oh. Are you going to get it or not?"

  "Be patient," she said removing a clear plastic bag from the counter.

  Patience, he was learning, wasn't his strong suit when it came to Anna May. When they flew home from California yesterday, all he wanted to do was spend time with his wife. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her.

  And he had to wait.

  A day. Twenty-four hours. It seemed like a lifetime. If he felt this way now, he wondered how he would feel when the baby came and she no longer needed him. He wasn't going to lie to himself. Once she had the child, her family, she wouldn't want him around. Family never wanted him. That was true. Ric remembered how much fun he had at her parents' home. They seemed to enjoy having him, and he'd felt a part of the Robinson family while helping to finish the room. Maybe he was wrong, he thought as he watched Anna May place vegetables in the plastic bag. Maybe she wouldn't leave him once the baby came.

  "Do you think this is enough?" she asked holding up the bag for his inspection.

  "You're asking me? I didn't know what those were until a few minutes ago."

  She shook her head and put the bag in the cart. "Never mind."

  "What are you going to do with those anyway?" he asked as he followed her to the next pile of unrecognizable produce.

  "Make a casserole," she said as she picked up a vegetable that looked like a root on steroids.

  "Rutabaga casserole. Wonderful."

  Her eyes widened, and she shook the root at him. "Ric, you've been eating my squash and rutabaga casserole for years."

  "I have?"

  "Yes," she said.

  Ric breathed a sigh of relief when she put down the root and moved on to another pile of vegetables. He didn't want to think about what he'd been eating. Maybe he didn't want to know.

  Anna May turned the corner and walked down another aisle. Things looked even worse on this aisle.

  "Don't they have things like celery?" he asked.

  "We're getting to it," she said placing another bag in the cart.

  "How do you know what to do with this stuff anyway?" He looked at the item in her hand and frowned. "Shouldn't that be given a decent burial?"

  "Ric," she laughed. "Leave the shopping to me and just push the cart."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She smiled at him and melted his heart. "No, that's yes, dear."

  She was his dear, he realized. He watched the teasing smile melt from her face as he touched her cheek. "Yes, dear," he said softly.

  Surprise then desire flashed in her
brown eyes, and he was sure the same emotions were reflected in his own. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, sweet, and short.

  She pulled away from his embrace and glanced around in embarrassment. "We'd better finish," she said then turned and moved down the aisle.

  Ric followed her with the cart. He felt dazed. In previous relationships he hadn't shown affection in public, and now in the middle of the largest farmers' market in Atlanta, he'd kissed his wife. He waited to feel embarrassment at his action, but he felt none. In fact, he felt darn good. He smiled and pushed the cart along. He was like the other men following their women around the maze of the market. He was a husband, spouse, a significant other. It wasn't a bad thing to be.

  "Oh, hi," Anna May said.

  His aunt and uncle made their way down the aisle. He was surprised to see them. Not that he knew their shopping habits, but they'd moved from Decatur to Stockbridge about an hour's drive away.

  "Hello, how are you doing?" his aunt asked.

  "Fine, and you?" Anna May said.

  "We're doing okay," she said looking at him with an air of expectancy. That same look had sent him running for cover when he was a teenager. He didn't know what she wanted from him then, and it made him uncomfortable, restless, and eager to get out of her way.

  They stood in silence. "Well, it was nice seeing you," his aunt said.

  Anna May looked from him to his aunt, and her eyes pleaded with him. "Do you shop here often?"

  "Betty makes a trip up here every two weeks to buy out the store," John Steward added in his slow south Georgia accent.

  Ric watched as his aunt gave his uncle an irritated look. "I like to buy fresh vegetables, and I don't hear you complaining about the food at home," she said.

  "They should build a sitting area for the men so they can wait until we finish shopping," Anna May said.

  "Why don't you go shopping by yourself?" Ric asked. He knew he was in trouble when Anna May and his aunt frowned at him. His uncle John shook his head. He'd obviously committed some social error.

  "Son," his uncle said. "That was the wrong thing to say."

  Son. Uncle John had almost always called him son. He felt no resentment at the name like he had when he was younger. What had happened to him? Had Uncle John changed, or was he the one who had changed?

  His thoughts were interrupted by Anna May's elbow in his side. "Didn't you want to come to the market with me?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Then why did you say I should have come by myself?" she asked.

  "That's not what I meant," he said resisting the urge to rub his side. "I meant"—he stopped when his uncle shook his head once more—"never mind."

  "We were about finished here. Would you join us for dinner?" his aunt said.

  Anna May looked to him for an answer. Dinner with his aunt and uncle. Should he join them? His initial thought was to decline her offer, but he could see the hopeful expression on her face. What could it hurt? It was only dinner. "Sure," he said.

  His aunt's smile was radiant, but it was Anna May's nod of approval that made him realize he'd made the right choice.

  They dined at Mick's just off the Decatur Square.

  "I hope this place is okay? I didn't think to ask before we left the farmers' market," Uncle John said when they entered the restaurant

  "It's great," Anna May said.

  The restaurant was fairly crowded, and they had to wait for a table. Anna May and Aunt Betty kept conversation going talking about friends in their old neighborhood.

  "I saw Mrs. Davis not too long ago," Anna May said.

  "Jewel Davis. How is she?"

  "The same. Still as ornery as ever. She was complaining that the kids in the neighborhood were messing up her yard," Anna May said.

  The older man laughed. "Remember when Ric mowed the lawn for the first time and accidentally mowed a part of her grass? I thought Jewel was going to have a heart attack right there on the spot. It was all I could do not to laugh in her face when she came running over."

  "Poor Ric. He was terrified," his aunt added. "He had no idea she was all talk. I think for a long time he believed she really was going to take a strip off his hide like she said she was."

  Ric listened in confusion. He didn't remember the incident that way. His uncle sounded like Anna May's father recounting his son's childhood antics, not the stern man he remembered. "I thought I was in serious trouble," he said.

  "In trouble? No, you weren't in trouble. I wanted to take you out to celebrate," his uncle replied.

  "You mowed the rest of lawn that day and always watched me mow the lawn from then on."

  His uncle frowned. "I finished the job because Jewel would have followed you up and down the yard making sure you didn't cut a single blade of her precious grass. And I just liked sitting outside. I wasn't watching you mow the grass. Is that what you thought?"

  "Yes, I thought you were going to send me back to my grandmother."

  His uncle regarded him with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Son, you couldn't be more wrong."

  "We were so glad to have you move in with us. You were all I had left of my brother. We wouldn't have ever sent you to live with that woman again," his aunt said.

  Ric studied the elderly couple. How could he have misjudged the situation? Maybe his perception had been skewed as a teenager. Maybe his aunt and uncle weren't as bad as he'd made them out to be. Maybe he'd been wrong about them like he'd been wrong about Anna May's family.

  "Would anyone care for dessert?" their waiter asked breaking the solemn mood around the table.

  They all declined and waited for the check.

  "Thank you for inviting us to dinner," Anna May said.

  "It was our pleasure," John said.

  "Next time we'll pick a restaurant on your side of town," Ric said.

  "We'd like that," his aunt said, her smile at odds with the tears in her eyes.

  "It was nice of you to invite them to dinner next week," she said as he drove down the dimly lit expressway on their way home. She couldn't have been more proud of him, Anna May thought on the drive home. He could have ended the evening without offering an olive branch to his aunt and uncle, but he had been the one to initiate another meeting. It had meant so much to the older couple, particularly his aunt.

  Ric made a noncommittal sound.

  "Where do you think we should go for dinner?" she asked.

  "I don't know," he said.

  "Maybe I'll give your aunt a call and get some suggestions from her. Or ..." She paused.

  He glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. "Or?"

  "We could have them over for dinner. Nothing fancy, just plain food. What do you think?" She waited in anticipation for his answer. Dinner at a restaurant would be okay, but dinner at his home would be better. It would give them a chance to become closer. One step closer to bridging the gap with his family.

  "Dinner at the house is fine with me," he said.

  Anna May breathed a sigh of relief and gave a prayer of thanks. He didn't know it, but Ric was about to become a part of a loving family. Between her family and his aunt and uncle, he was going to learn the value of a loving family. All she had to do now was find his brother, but she didn't think it would be a problem. His aunt probably knew the whereabouts of his brother.

  Slowly but surely, she'd show Ric the value of family, and hopefully he would learn to love her as his wife.

  "So how long is Ric going to be out of town?" Janet asked after the waiter left the table.

  "Five days," Anna May said glumly over the hum of the lunch crowd. The tiny restaurant in the middle of downtown was filled to capacity. It was known for its excellent food, but her mind wasn't on food. At ten thirty this morning, Ric called her at work to tell her he had to go out of town and he would probably be gone the entire week. After the days and nights of abstinence, she'd been looking forward to tonight. Tonight when she could be with her husband, but it wa
sn't to be.

  "Don't be so down in the dumps. Think of it as five days of preparation," Janet said.

  "Preparation?"

  "Preparation for his return home," she said. "Pamper yourself, rest up, and make plans to seduce him while he's away. Send him a gift at his hotel or talk sexy to him on the telephone. It will make him want to come home soon."

  "Janet, I'm afraid to ask how you know this."

  Janet's bland expression was tempered by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I never reveal my sources."

  "You're a stockbroker, not a reporter." Anna May laughed.

  "If the shoe fits," she said. "Tell me, how are things between you and Ric?"

  "Things are okay. I didn't think I could love him more, but I do."

  "That's good—and what about your plans to have a baby? How's that working?"

  "Nothing's happened yet—" She stopped when Janet raised her eyebrows. "I mean I'm not pregnant."

  "Oh." That one word conveyed her sadness. "Don't worry, you'll have a baby."

  "I hope so."

  "You will, but"—Janet paused then smiled wickedly—"enjoy making the baby. You've been waiting thirty-two long years for this. Enjoy it."

  Anna May shook her head. "You're so crazy."

  "No, I'm practical. Why would you pass up an opportunity to enjoy a choice, USDA prime, black male in your bed?"

  Anna May raised a single brow. "Who said I'd pass up the opportunity?"

  Later that evening as she curled up on the sofa in the den, the telephone rang.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi." His voice was like molten chocolate over the telephone line. "I got the flowers. Thanks."

  It had taken her an hour to find a florist willing to deliver five calla lilies and a note which said, Five days and counting. Come home soon, to his hotel room in Los Angeles. She'd pretended not to hear the florist's chuckle on the telephone. Sending him flowers seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she was beginning to think it was hokey.

  "I hope you like them," she said softly.

  "I like them, but I'd like them even better if I was home. I'm sorry I had to leave, but this was an emergency. I had to handle this or else I'd have sent someone else."