Love Me or Leave Me

by Gwynne Forster

  “Yeah? In that case, don’t cook. Let’s you and me drive into Frederick and eat at Mealey’s or some place like that. No dishes to put in the dishwasher and no pots and pans to scrub. What do you say?”

  Henry removed his apron and threw it across a kitchen chair. “I never knock me self out doing nothing I don’t have to do. Be ready in half an hour.”

  As a child, Drake had followed Henry from room to room in that big house, occasionally panicking when he couldn’t find him, and after his father’s death, Henry became even more precious to him. As the Jaguar sped along Route 15 in the direction of Frederick, he imagined that he would never be the same if the time came when Henry wasn’t there for him to understand him, jostle and needle him, and to offer his quaint form of love…

  “Have you decided you’re not having anything else to do with Pamela?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “The way Alexis was talking, I figured you was planning to self-destruct. I don’t waste me breath giving a man advice about a woman, ’cause he ain’t gonna take it no way. But whatever it is you’re after, you’re gonna get it, ’cause you don’t mind hard work and you treat people right. Just be sure to get your taste of heaven while you’re conquering the world. Otherwise, heaven ain’t gonna be there. Or if it is, you’ll either be too old, too worldly, too set in your ways, or all of those to appreciate it when you get it—that is, if you can let yourself accept it.

  “And mark my word, caring for babies and toddlers when you’re fifty years old can’t be no fun. Tell me something, son. Did she say she’d wait while you discover yerself?”

  “Stop being facetious, Henry. She didn’t promise to wait. And before you ask, I don’t like it, but she’s a grown woman and she doesn’t need my permission to date other men.”

  “And if she got any sense, that’s just what she’ll do.”

  “Alexis said something like that, but I have to act on the basis of my feelings and my judgment. All of you wish me well, but I’m the one who has to live this life.”

  “I just hope when you come to yer senses, you won’t find out that someone else is sleeping in that bed. Mr. Josh used to say Russ was hardheaded, and that you were the easiest of his boys to raise. He didn’t seem to know that Russ only insisted on getting and doing what he knew he was entitled to. You were just as determined—only you smiled, conned, cajoled and charmed him for whatever you wanted, and yer daddy never realized it. But I was on to you.”

  He felt a grin spreading over his face. “I know. You wouldn’t let me get away with a thing, and I am grateful to you for that. Fortunately or not, I’ve become as cut-and-dried as Russ is.”

  “No-nonsense is what you mean,” Henry said. “Look. There’s the old church where me and me Sarah took our vows, God rest her soul. The Quinn Chapel A. M. E. Church dates back to the late 1700s. It’s a landmark, and the local African-Americans are real proud of it. Every time I pass her, I think about that day way back then. You never saw the sun shine like that, and me Sarah looked so nice in her white lace dress and hat. Gives me the shivers thinking about it.”

  “I can imagine. She was one sweet woman, the only person who ever sang me a lullaby. My mother didn’t have the maternal instinct of a flea.”

  “Don’t bother to think about that. Does Pamela want children?”

  “She does, and that’s the problem. She wants to start on that now.”

  “Yeah, and she’d better. Me and me Sarah waited too long. She was five years older than me, and she just couldn’t go full-term. If we stay on this topic, we’ll be drinking our dinner ’stead of eating it though. Fortunately, neither of us drinks enough for the alcohol to make a difference.”

  “One thing,” Drake said, “and then I want to drop this. Why does everybody want me to marry Pamela?”

  “I don’t know about the rest, but when I’ve seen you with her, you behaved like a satisfied man. Besides, if I was yer age right now, I’d give you a run for yer money with that girl. You’d think I was Seabiscuit coming down the homestretch. She’s beautiful, kind, soft and got a real good head on her shoulders. And she can sing!”

  They spent an amiable evening together, dining gourmet-style and reminiscing about their lives together, causing Drake to reflect more than once that Henry had been a lifesaver to him when his father died. Going over the joys and tragedies that they had experienced together reinforced his love for home and family.

  “Henry has a subtle way of twisting my arm,” Drake said to himself after telling Henry good-night and heading to his room. He kicked off his shoes, stretched out on his bed and did the only thing he wanted to do. He telephoned Pamela, and it seemed as if the phone rang a thousand times before she answered, though he heard only four rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. This is Drake. I was beginning to think I’d primed myself to hear your voice to no avail. How are you?”

  “I’m all right. I was considering washing my hair. Then I thought I’d better start the research for a program I’m doing mid-July. Then I thought, ‘I’m going to play my record and read. I don’t feel like working.’”

  “Telford and his family were out this evening, so Henry and I had a really nice dinner in Frederick. We’re just getting back.”

  “Why did you call, Drake?”

  He hadn’t expected the question, but somehow it didn’t surprise him. “I miss you, and I needed some contact with you. That’s why.”

  “All right. Let’s talk awhile. I’m going to California on Monday for an industry conference, and I’m nervous about it because my producer is sending me in his stead. He said I don’t need a briefing.”

  “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

  “I don’t know. Men are always getting away with things.”

  He sat up on the bed and rested his back against the headboard. “What men are you talking about? I don’t remember your letting me get away with anything…well, not much, anyway.”

  “No? What do you call kissing the sense out of me and three hours later as much as saying that if you didn’t see me again, too bad?”

  “I didn’t say that. Woman, I will not allow you to misrepresent me. Anyhow, you’re not bad at that kissing business yourself.”

  “What you did was foul play,” she told him.

  “No such thing, lady. I was not playing. I was never more serious in my life. You’re the criminal. I still have that gaping hole you left in me.”

  “Really? Well, for heaven’s sake, come here, and I’ll do my best to plug it up.”

  “Are you a gambler? Don’t you know I can get to Baltimore in forty minutes?”

  “Normally I don’t gamble, but when I do, it’s for high stakes. If you feel like taking a forty-minute ride, it’ll take me about that long to make cookies and coffee.”

  He looked at his watch. Nine thirty-five. “See you at ten-fifteen.”

  He hung up, slipped on his shoes and walked over to Henry’s cottage. “I’m going to Baltimore, but I’ll be back tonight.”

  Henry put his hands on his hips and stared at Drake as if he didn’t believe what he heard. “Humph. Seems to me if you’re smart enough to go, you ought to have sense enough to stay all night.”

  He winked at Henry, knelt down and patted Henry’s puppy, a golden retriever, on the head. “When I do that, you’ll know something serious is going on.”

  “Looks to me like it’s serious now, ’cause when you left me, you weren’t going anyplace but upstairs to bed. Don’t drive too fast.”

  “’Course not. See you.”

  He went inside, brushed his teeth, checked his face for evidence of a beard, got into his Jaguar and headed for Baltimore.

  She met him at the door in an orange-colored silk jumpsuit that fit her body as if it had been made on her.

  Okay, he said to himself. She’s declared war, but I’m a pretty good shot myself.

  “Hi,” he said to her. “You look like moonlight shining over a peaceful lake
. You take my breath away.”

  A wide smile welcomed him. “Come on in, and be careful what you say, because I intend to hold everything you say and do tonight against you.”

  He pushed back the strand of hair that fell over his left eye, giving him what Henry called the look of a rascal. “In that case, I can’t win. But I can’t lose what I don’t have, either. Hell, Pamela, I really have missed you.”

  “Me, too. And if you’re the gentleman you claim to be, you’ll make amends.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? If you don’t call that making amends, I needn’t even start trying.” She looked so warm and sexy in that getup that he… “I… Pamela, put your arms around me. I need to hold you.”

  “If you do what you did to me the last time, I’ll throw that pot of coffee at you.”

  “Would you hurt me?” He didn’t know how much he meant that question until he heard himself whisper it. “Would you?”

  “No. Oh, no.” Her arms opened and he walked into them. The feel of her soft, warm body and the scent of her faint perfume teased him, stirring his libido and awakening something in him that he wanted to remain dormant. She was on tiptoes now, and her hand at his nape guided his mouth to her waiting lips. His senses seemed to reel, and he plowed into her, demanding, asking and then—with his lips, arms, hands and his whole body—begging her to possess him, to love him. His hands roamed her back, arms and hips, and she held him, giving all he asked for, heating him until he thought the inferno inside of him would explode like a volcano.

  “Pamela,” he moaned. “What have you done to me?” He crushed her to him, kissing her hair, face, ears and neck. “I want to make love with you, but if I do, that will be the end of it.”

  She stepped back from him. “Why?”

  “I can have protected sex with a woman I barely know, and it won’t mean anything beyond physical relief, but with you it would be life changing.”

  “And you don’t want your life changed.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, took the tray and carried it into the living room.

  “A few weeks ago, I was certain I didn’t. Now, I’m less sure. I do know that I’m here right now because I needed what you just gave me, and I needed it with you.”

  She poured the coffee. “You have needs. Right? So do I. The problem is that I can’t conceive of being intimate with a man I don’t care deeply for. But I think I should set that old-fashioned attitude aside. Who says a single woman can’t have a baby?”

  He nearly choked on the cookie. “A child has a right to have the love and guidance of its father, as well as its mother.”

  “Agreed. In the best of all possible worlds, it would be that way every time, but honey, this world doesn’t come anywhere near that. We get what we’re lucky enough to find. I’ve been considering adopting a child.”

  “Tell me you’re not serious.”

  “I wouldn’t lie, Drake. Tell me that you are not going to disappear from my life for another three weeks, because if you do that I won’t welcome you again.” She laughed. “Can you imagine my father asking me when you were planning to speak with him? I told him it was unlikely that you ever would.” She stood. “When you kiss me good-night, do a good job of it, because it will probably be our last time.”

  He put the cup on the coffee table and stood. “I care far too much for you to trivialize it in any way. I can’t say I won’t see you again, unless you forbid it. Each time I’m with you, I know you better, what I see pleases me and I need you more. Will you wait for six months?”

  “And then you decide you were right all along? As much as you mean to me, I won’t promise you that.”

  Like a nail moving toward a magnet, he reached for her, folded her body to his and kissed her until he nearly lost his breath. “Good night.”

  “Goodbye,” she said.

  He turned around and looked at her. “Not this time, sweetheart, and maybe never.”

  Chapter 4

  “Well, I asked for it,” Pamela said to herself as she headed for work that Monday morning. “I as much as told him that whatever he wanted was here for him, if he’d come and get it.” She parked in the WRLR basement garage and took the elevator to the ninth floor.

  “Did you have a good weekend?” she asked Rhoda as she passed her assistant’s desk.

  “Not particularly. I’m thirty-five, you know, and believe me, the pickings are slim and getting slimmer every year.”

  She didn’t respond. It amazed her that an educated, intelligent and competent woman’s social conversation always centered on men or—as in this case—the lack of a man in her life. She wanted to tell Rhoda to make both her despair and her search less obvious.

  “I’m not going to allow myself to become a desperate man-hunter,” Pamela said aloud. She opened her office door and looked around. “No siree. I’m somebody even when I’m lonely.” Remembering Drake’s advice, she phoned Jack Hanson, her producer.

  “I see my travel orders and ticket authorization, but I don’t see any instructions as to what I’m to do at this meeting. I can’t go all the way to Oakland, California, just to listen to some guys sit around a long table and talk. What’s my role?”

  “WRLR has produced two special programs for the network, programs that made money for the network. A lot of money. We want to produce more of them, especially human-interest and historical subjects. We don’t want to do sitcoms, and none of that reality stuff. I’m thoroughly sick of both. Got it?”

  “Okay, but weren’t you planning to tell me this? Do I need to divulge the content of the special I’m doing?”

  “Hell, no, and don’t let any of those guys force you to do it. They’ll try to trick you into spilling your guts. Tell ’em I forbade you to mention it.”

  The door opened and Rhoda walked in. “Here’re those two reports you wanted. I don’t mind telling you I spent the weekend on it. By the way, is that hunk going with you? I sin just thinking about that guy.”

  Pamela stopped writing and looked up at her assistant, not a little annoyed that the woman confessed to having the hots for Drake. “Rhoda, if WRLR sent you on a business trip, would you use the occasion to have a romantic tryst, or would you behave professionally and keep your romance separate from your work?”

  Rhoda didn’t appear the least embarrassed. “You sure do know how to draw blood. If you need anything else before you leave, just buzz me.”

  Pamela thanked Rhoda, but the woman’s fixation—as it were—on Drake, and her eagerness to let her know it didn’t sit well with Pamela. She had a feeling of apprehension about it. To be forewarned is to be forearmed, and this one definitely bears watching.

  She reached Oakland at three o’clock in the afternoon, thanks to the three-hour time difference, checked in, stepped into her room and dropped her hand luggage on the floor, barely missing her toes. She stood just inside the door gaping at the huge red balloon on which was painted, “You light up my life,” and at the vase of red rosebuds beside it. She wanted to scream, thinking that Lawrence sent them and that he’d begun harassing her again.

  Yet the strong handwriting on the card beside the vase was unlike Lawrence’s tiny scribbling. She tore open the card and sat down on the bed, unable to believe her eyes.

  Have a wonderful time. Wish I was there with you.

  Kisses, Drake

  More annoyed than pleased, she took her cell phone out of her briefcase and called Drake on his cell number.

  “When did you get in?” he asked by way of a greeting, having recognized her number on his cell phone’s caller ID.

  “This minute. You called my office to—”

  He interrupted. “Yeah. When I identified myself, your secretary seemed reluctant to tell me where you went, but another woman took the phone, and not only did she give me your hotel and the phone number there, but hoped I’d have a good time. I told her I only wanted to send you some flowers, but she preferred not to believe me.”

  “That was Rhoda, my assistant.
Apart from her work, her mind doesn’t entertain anything that isn’t related to sex.”

  “I’m not going to touch that one. Do you like the balloon?”

  The mellifluous beauty of his voice made her heart do flip-flops, and she closed her eyes, imagining that he was there beside her. “I admit it was a pleasant surprise…that is, after I realized it wasn’t Lawrence Parker who sent them. The flowers are beautiful, and the note… Well, it’s interesting to say the least.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked in a voice that came across as a growl.

  “You don’t have to be a brain surgeon to figure it out. You said you wished you were here, but if you were, you’d probably register at a different hotel on the chance that if you stayed in this one, you might find my room while sleepwalking.”

  “I think I’ve just been insulted,” he said, and in her mind’s eye, she could see a boyish expression on his suddenly innocent-looking face.

  “Didn’t mean to,” she said airily, because she hated to lie. “You’re as perplexing to me as I am to myself. From the inscriptions on this balloon, one would think I’m important to you.”

  “If one had any sense at all,” he shot back, “one would know it.” He didn’t soften his words with a humorous tone.

  “Actions speak louder than words,” she countered.

  “I rest my case. When are you coming back?”

  “I get in at ten-twenty on Wednesday night.”

  “Can we have lunch Thursday?”

  She wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see her. But as long as she didn’t know where she stood with him, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “My boss might want to have a working lunch.” That was true, but she didn’t have to acquiesce.

  “Your lunchtime is your own,” he said, his voice laced with impatience. “Tell him you have an engagement that you can’t break. I’ll be at your office at twelve-thirty sharp.”

  She stared at the phone. This man could be bossy, and there was nothing uncertain about his tone of voice. “Why do you want to see me, Drake?”