A Younger Man (Mount Faith Series: Book 7)

by Brenda Barrett

  Vanley nodded. "Of course. I know that there are people in the world who don't want children, but I do."

  "How many?" Davia laughed.

  "At least three," Vanley said, "and they have to be close in age, like two years apart. I am five years older than my sister, and at times, I feel like I am much older. She calls me Pops when she's joking."

  "I like that," Davia said. "I wish I had a big brother. I want to have a whole houseful of children too. It was lonely growing up with just my grandparents. I have no cousins or people my age to call family."

  Vanley mused. "I have no idea how that feels. I have always had a bucket load of family meddling in my life."

  "Yes, I know." Davia laughed. "You have quite a big clan of cousins."

  She cleared her throat. "What became of those guys who raped your sister?"

  Vanley shrugged. "Their trial is set for March. I heard that Cory, the one who was recording the video, was granted immunity for his testimony against the others."

  Davia shook her head. "That's messed up."

  "It's our version of justice," Vanley said. Then he looked at his watch. "You know it's nice talking to you."

  He leaned back on the headrest. "I don't want your grandparents thinking I am trying to seduce their only grandchild in the dark so I am going to bid you goodnight."

  Davia nodded. "They wouldn't think so. My grandma is probably already sleeping and my granddad is not hearing too well. Probably don't even know I am out here."

  "Night Davia," Vanley said softly.

  "Night Vanley." Davia exited the car and then stuck her head halfway through the open window. "Feel free to ask me out to somewhere exciting anytime you want to."

  Vanley nodded. "I just might take you up on that offer." He watched as she walked to her front door and closed it behind her.

  He drove off slowly. He would not be going to Anita's tonight. He drove to his house on the outskirts of Mount Faith Drive and sat in his driveway for the longest while. He looked at its dark unwelcoming bulk in the night. He needed a wife. He needed Anita for that wife. He sighed and hauled himself out of the car.

  *****

  "You have placed me in an impossible situation," Anita said, the minute she stepped into her house that evening.

  Carol was watching television. She had Chudney in her lap—a black and white heap. He was enjoying the stroking she was giving him.

  "Ah," Carol said, with no concern whatsoever that Anita was glaring at her. "How did I do that?"

  "You listed my name as your next of kin and you are on the run from the police." Anita threw down her briefcase and sat down in a huff in the settee across from Carol. She looked around her living room; it looked less than her impeccable standards.

  Near her foot was a white sock, one of her gym socks. It had teeth marks in it. It looked like it was thrown down on the floor. Chudney must have gotten to it. On the top of her mini bookcase, where she kept all of her favorite books, was a cereal bowl. She could see ants creating a trail to the to the bowls edge.

  "Relax," Carol said, "I didn't do whatever it is that they are accusing me of doing."

  "Argh." Anita ran her hand through her hair. "I should have known that when you showed up last night in the dark that this was bad news. You lied to me."

  "I didn't lie to you." Carol snorted. "I told you I needed a place to crash until I could sort out some things."

  "You came here with your headlights off and frightened me on the verandah. I should have known you were up to no good."

  "You know me," Carol said emphatically. "You know I would never kill anyone."

  Anita grunted. "Carol, I have hardly heard from you in the past twenty years. We are different people now."

  "Literally," Carol said, admiring Anita, "but that doesn't mean that my moral fabric has stretched so thin that I am now a murderer."

  "So what happened?" Anita asked. "Tell me everything; I may as well know. When the police find you here I am going to prison for harboring a fugitive."

  "You did not tell them anything, did you?" Carol asked, a scared look in her eyes.

  Anita shook her head. "No, I didn't."

  Carol exhaled. "Thank you so much. I was framed for Selvin Perth's murder. I got married to him two years ago."

  Anita nodded." I didn't know that you remarried."

  "Well, I did. I took the plunge again. As you know, my first experience wasn't that great. My first husband left me after a year."

  Anita winced. "Don't go off topic."

  Carol laughed, jerking Chudney, who yawned and looked at Anita, giving her a half-hearted tail wag from Carol's lap. He was just registering that she was home.

  "I can't believe how disloyal you are," Anita said shaking her head at her dog. Chudney stood up on Carol's lap, stretched, then hopped over to Anita, putting his paw on her knee in a gesture of supplication.

  "Do you think that your cute face and sorrowful eyes changed the fact that I came into the house and you didn't even acknowledge me?" Anita asked the dog.

  Chudney whined and jumped onto her lap.

  Carol giggled. "Remember our cat, Fritz?"

  "Off topic," Anita growled. "Get back to your story."

  "Well, I got married to Sidney. I met him at a sales meeting my phone company had set up with his company. He saw me at the door, liked me and we started talking. We got married after six weeks.

  I didn't bother to find out the finer details about his life like the fact that he was seventy-five. He didn't look it, I swear," Carol said when Anita raised her eyebrows, "or about the fact that his first wife died from cancer and that there was this whole hullabaloo about her will and money and that he had a step-son who hated him like poison and by extension hated me." Carol raised her fingers, "As you know really well, I generally take the plunge and then ask questions later."

  Anita rolled her eyes." So, are you saying that Sidney's step-son killed him?"

  "Yup." Carol got up and stretched. She was an athletic woman with a slim, wiry body. She stayed in tiptop shape with daily yoga. She had her hair in a short Afro, which had specks of cornflakes in it.

  She had a classically beautiful face. Anita remembered, vividly, the first time she met Carol. It was at a photo shoot for a toothpaste brand. Even now, she still had that white toothy smile. She was flashing it at Anita.

  She headed for the cereal bowl and yelped, "Yikes it's covered with ants."

  "Are you ever going to grow up?" Anita asked, "and why do you have cornflakes in your hair?"

  "Long story," Carol said breezily, "and no, I am not growing up until I hit forty or maybe forty-five. Forty-five, that's half of ninety, good time to grow up."

  She stepped over the sock and then turned back and picked it up.

  "You turned forty months ago; you really should think about loosening up for the next five years. Clock is ticking, Anita."

  "I like the way I am," Anita said, watching Carol as she headed to the kitchen. She was wearing one of her old sweat pants and a black shirt.

  "But the way you are is so rigid and straitlaced. Live a little, girlfriend. You know, I preferred you when..."

  "Carol," Anita said solemnly, "I don't want to reminisce. I don't want to talk about the past. I have a new life okay."

  "Okay." Carol looked around at her and then put the bowl on the island.

  "The sink!" Anita said sternly. "Put it in the sink."

  "But I don't wanna," Carol joked. "Then you are going to ask me to put water and soap in it."

  "When are you going to turn yourself in to the police?" Anita asked exasperatedly.

  Carol shrugged. "Technically, I didn't run. They had me in their detention center asking me questions. Next thing I know, Selvin's stepson, who was caught with the weapon and blood on his clothes, told them that we were lovers and that I asked him to do it. He was pointing at me screaming, 'It's all her fault. She asked me to do it.' The policemen were nodding like that was something they expected. I panicked. I know tha
t the stepson wanted me to go to jail so that a clause in the will would prevent me from inheriting Selvin's estate, and the money he inherited from his late wife. Ironically, I am going to get the very money that he killed for, so he made up a story.

  "You don't sound sorry that Selvin's dead," Anita murmured.

  Carol mused. "Let's see. Am I grieving? Not particularly. Would I have an affair with his son, the twerp? No! I was already having an affair, and I can prove it. I was with that person when the murder happened. I just panicked when the police started talking about arresting me, and I kind of ran out of the station, jumped into my car, and drove away. I stayed in a hotel for a few days and then I remembered that you worked up here."

  Carol smiled. "Oh, sorry about that next of kin thing; I put it on a loan document two years after we separated, you know. I didn't have anybody else to put at the time. The police must be really digging to find that information. That was eighteen years ago."

  "Did you repay the loan?" Anita asked exasperatedly.

  "Can't remember," Carol shrugged. "Those banks have lots of money, why can't they give us some when we want it? You know what they do with the money you deposit? They invest it and make more money."

  Anita rolled her eyes. "So what about your work?"

  "Quit last year." Carol washed out the bowl, looked at the kitchen towel but decided to wipe her hand on the sock instead. "So basically I am free as a bird. Don't look so upset. At least you and I can spend some time together, like old times. Don't you think I saw how lonely you were last night with only a dog for company?"

  Anita frowned, "Carol, you are a fugitive! The head of the fugitive division of police came to see me today. This is not like old times. You are running from the law. You being here can mean me going to prison."

  "The police are overreacting," Carol said, taking a glass from the cupboard. "Did you know that red wine vinegar and grape juice taste just like grape soda?"

  She poured some red wine vinegar and grape juice into a glass, swished it around, and slowly drank some.

  "So how've you been?" Carol asked, walking with that gliding gait of hers and leaving everything she had just used on the counter.

  "I have been fine," Anita said. "Well, I was fine until you showed up, like a blast from the past."

  Carol bounced in her chair, "I mean, how've you really been. We have not spoken in forever. Tell me stuff. Like do you have a boyfriend?"

  "Grown women don't have boyfriends."

  "Ooh." Carol grinned. "Seems like I hit a nerve. In your diary, the one on your side table you have a guys name in there. Vanley. Is he your man friend?"

  "Shut up!" Anita got up. "What, are you three years old? Why were you in my room, and my diary?"

  "You are always so sparing with information," Carol said bouncing up and down in the settee. "I thought your diary would be enlightening. All I see are meetings, schedules, and one entry about hating Joe Masters. Man, I don't think I am going to be staying here for long. This place is boring. Not even your diary is exciting, except for that name, Vanley, that was circled with a heart. Now that's cryptic. It had me guessing. Is Vanley a shoe brand? Tell me Anita; break up the drudgery."

  "Good, you are bored." Anita grunted. "That means you will leave soon. Please God, please let it be so." Then she got up and kicked a nail clip case. The edge of it nicked her toe. "Please keep your pig sty ways out of the common areas." She went into her room and slammed the door.

  "Vanley, Vanley, Vanley." Carol laughed softly, definitely not a shoe brand. No shoes could bring out the passionate side of Anita like that.

  Chapter Four

  "What's wrong?" Vanley stood at Anita's door. He had been staring at her for the past minute. She was hitting her forehead intermittently with her open palm and grunting in frustration.

  He figured it was a super busy day because Davia had dashed past him on the steps when he was on his way to see Anita. She had "urgent business to do for the boss lady," she had told him in a rush. With that, he realized that the coast was clear. Anita would be alone in the office. It made him feel better because he was determined to have lunch with her today. They had never really done that: have lunch, sit, and talk.

  Anita looked up at him and groaned. "Nothings wrong, really. I have a bunch of things to do."

  "I have food," Vanley said holding up a picnic basket. "I had extra, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood, so here I am."

  "I have no time for lunch," Anita rubbed her forehead. "I have a long list of things to do plus the department budgets to go over."

  "You have to eat." Vanley sat before her and put the basket on her desk. "I have taken up cooking as a hobby."

  Anita laughed. "It doesn't show on you."

  "Well, I cook for one. I have nobody to try out my latest recipes on," Vanley said. "I baked bread yesterday. I felt so accomplished when I did it."

  Anita shook her head. She had her hair combed back in a bun. She looked younger and prettier when it was off her face. Vanley admired her. "You have a mole above your left eyelid. Why didn't I realize that before?"

  Anita fidgeted with her pen, flushing at his compliment and the intense way he was looking at her. "Vanley..."

  "No, seriously," Vanley said, "I notice everything about you. That mole just snuck up on me."

  Anita changed the topic quickly and pointed at the basket; a pleasant aroma was coming from it. "Whatever you have in that basket smells good."

  Vanley grinned wickedly. "I roasted beef, and I made a melt in your mouth beef sandwich that's fit for a queen."

  He took out a container with the sandwich and handed it to her.

  Anita took it. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she did not eat red meat. She bit into it anyway. It tasted so good she looked up at him in surprise. "Wow…the bread, the beef. Perfect. I haven't had beef in years."

  Vanley frowned. "Oops, I am sorry."

  Anita waved him off. “Don't be. First, I stopped eating red meat, then white meat, then no meat, but I have had chicken recently so I think I am in a confused stage right now."

  "Not quite vegetarian?" Vanley asked.

  "Something like that." Anita cleared her throat. Though they were discussing meat, the conversation was becoming too close to another aspect of her life.

  "Thanks, Vanley." She polished off the sandwich in record time and Vanley handed her a wine glass.

  "Wow, you went all out." Anita grinned.

  Vanley nodded. "Sparkling lemonade. Can't have a picnic without it."

  Anita laughed and sipped the liquid in her glass. "Tart, just the way I like it."

  She looked at Vanley's light brown eyes; they had a brown ring around them. She contemplated him closely. He was so handsome, and kind, and crazy about her. Oh, the irony of her situation.

  "I wish we could do this regularly," Vanley said pensively as he packed the wineglasses into the basket.

  Anita shook her head, "No, no, don't go there. The last time you went down this line of argument," Anita lowered her voice, "you asked me to marry you."

  "I was a little impulsive that day," Vanley grinned. "I was just offered my own church. I was thinking to myself that a man needs to share these things with the woman that he loves, so I practically ran over here and proposed. I had visions of us getting married that day and having children right away. I was really excited."

  "And I turned you down." Anita put down her glass and ran her fingers over the rim. "We can't ever get married."

  Vanley sighed. "The age thing is unfortunate but not that big a deal Anita. My mom was five years older than my Dad. There are several couples with a large age disparity and they are making it work. You can still have children at your age; we can have a couple decades together before you are in your dotage."

  "I can't have children," Anita said leaning back in her chair.

  "You are barren?" Vanley asked, looking at her sad expression. Her short thick lashes were veiling her eyes, but he had seen the flash of reg
ret mixed with disappointment.

  "Yes, barren: a mule, stunted." Anita shrugged. "I came to grips with it years ago, but I know that is something that you would probably find insurmountable."

  "We can adopt," Vanley shrugged, "or get a surrogate. Millions of couples find ways to have children when they can't have them together. That isn't insurmountable. You mean that's the big secret that has you keeping me at arms length?"

  Anita looked up at him, a look of surprise on her face. She hadn't expected him to take her news so readily, even though it wasn't her big secret, but this was huge. "You need to think about it Vanley."

  "I never imagined that this would be the worst case scenario, so no, I don't need to sit and think about it, Anita." Vanley inclined his head. "I can't believe that this is the reason you have blown hot and cold with me for years."

  Anita sighed and closed her eyes. "It's not the only reason. I want us to just be friends."

  "No, you don't," Vanley leaned closer to the desk and stared at her, looking her squarely in her eyes. "I don't believe you. You say things like this with your mouth and then you do something else, like kissing me passionately like your life depends on it."

  "That was three years ago," Anita said, cutting eye contact with him.

  "And you compliment me all the time, and eat me up with your eyes like a starving woman in a desert, and you absolutely love it when I pursue you. You put on that indifferent mask that you think you wear so well, but you have a vulnerable look in your eyes all the time, even now. You want me. You like me, maybe a bit too much."

  Anita closed her eyes. Vanley had read her so well that she was afraid to look at him now.

  "What I can't understand," Vanley said, reaching across the desk and taking one of her hands in his, "is why the big fight."

  He laced their fingers together. "So five years ago I may have been a little younger and more naive, and that may have been a concern for you, but I am much older now, and I think I can recognize the difference between love and a fleeting crush. I want you, nobody else, but you keep pushing me away."