touch my heart

by jordan, wayne

  “You do have a choice,” Charles stated firmly. “But I’m sure you will agree with me when I tell you that you either comply to further therapy or your leg is going to get worse. You can be as stubborn as you want to be, but that’s your reality,” Charles snapped. “You make the choice. It’s your damn leg.”

  “Are doctors supposed to talk to their patients like that?” Dominic challenged.

  “I’m not just any doctor. I’m your doctor and I can talk to you any way I want. I’ve reached the stage when I’m tired of your childish behavior. So what if you’ve lost your career. Is that the measure you take to define yourself? The fact that your celebrity status is no more? When we were at school together, I admired your drive and determination. I knew you wanted more for yourself. I didn’t realize that what you wanted had nothing to do with your talent, but how people see you and the number of groupies you could bed. That’s not the man who was my best friend. You were a fighter then. What I see now is just a pale imitation of the man you wanted to be.” Charles stared at him, his nostrils flaring with anger.

  Dominic could feel the color drain from his face. He stood abruptly, knocking the cane down and stumbling. His leg flamed with pain and he fell to the floor. He lay still, feeling angry rather than embarrassed.

  Footsteps sounded. He looked up and Charles looked down, his face unsmiling, unsympathetic. He shook his head slowly.

  “I’m going to go get lunch. You can get yourself up since you seem to want to be helpless down there. I’ll get Janice to come in a moment. You can tell her what you want to do. She’ll tell me your decision.”

  With that, Charles walked out the room without a backward glance.

  Inside, fury surged. Words he hadn’t used for ages slipped from between his lips and sounded strange. His mother would have been shocked to hear them.

  He raised himself slowly, his weight on one arm. He then tumbled awkwardly into the chair.

  For a while he sat there. He couldn’t believe that Charles had walked out, but by the time Janice walked into the office, he realized how silly he had been.

  “You can let Charles know he can start making the arrangements,” he said calmly. “I leave for Barbados tomorrow.”

  * * *

  The phone produced its usual musical interlude. Aaliyah groaned, burrowing herself deeper into the covers, willing the sound to stop. She sighed in contentment when it did. The long afternoon had finally taken its toll on her body; her feet felt as if they would fall off. She grunted when the ringing started again.

  She stretched a hand out and, with unexpected precision, grasped the retro phone, pulling it quickly to her ear.

  “Hello,” she greeted.

  “Good evening, Aaliyah. It’s Dr. Graham.”

  She sat up, immediately wondering if something was wrong with one of her patients. “Good evening, Dr. Graham. How can I help you?”

  She’d only started working with him a few months ago in the physiotherapy department. He was a brilliant surgeon and she’d been delighted about the opportunity to learn from him.

  “I’m calling you with a little proposal.”

  “Proposal?”

  “How’d you like to go work in Barbados for a few months?”

  “Barbados?”

  “I have a client who needs a physiotherapist to work with him for the next few months. Would you be interested?”

  “How long do I have to think about it?” she asked.

  “I’ll need an answer in the morning, in case I have to look for someone else. You don’t have to worry about your job here. I’ll make arrangements for your leave. When it’s over you can return to your current position. You’re the first person I thought about for this job. You’ve been doing great work. This would be good training.”

  “I’ll definitely think about it. When would I be expected to start?”

  “You’d be leaving a week from today.”

  “That soon?”

  “Yes, that soon. Just think about it overnight. You’d of course be compensated very well.”

  “How well?” she asked out of pure curiosity.

  When she heard Doctor Graham state the figure, she almost fainted.

  “You’re sure that is what’s being offered each month?”

  He laughed. “Yes, Aaliyah. For as long as my client needs the treatment. He definitely needs the help. I’m worried about him. He’s already gotten rid of two therapists.”

  “And you think I can handle him?”

  “I know you can handle him. He needs a gentle hand but lots of firmness.”

  “I promise I’ll consider it. Can I call you in the morning?”

  “I was hoping I didn’t have to wait so long, but I’ll try to be patient.”

  “Good night, then, Doctor Graham. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  “You have a good night, Aaliyah.”

  After the phone disconnected, she continued to stare at the handset before she eventually put it down, pulling the covers back over her.

  She didn’t need to think. Before she’d put her phone down, she’d made her decision. Too many life changes had happened today. It was almost as if fate were intervening.

  She would go. She had to go. She needed a change, just as Eboni had said that afternoon. She wondered if the change of surroundings would heal her of the ache she felt each night as she lay in bed alone. She missed Andrew. Sometimes in the stillness of the night, the familiar hint of the Irish Spring soap he used wafted through the air.

  She rose again, picked up the phone and dialed Eboni’s number to share her plans.

  Chapter 2

  One week later, Aaliyah looked out the cab window as miles and miles of sugar-cane fields flashed by. Barbados was spectacular. She’d seen advertisements on television, but nothing had prepared her for the reality of the island’s beauty. On her way from the airport, she’d passed gated communities with massive contemporary houses. But she’d also seen quaint chattel houses nestled among the cane fields.

  It was early afternoon, and as the car sped along the highway, a cool breeze gently caressed her face. She realized that nature knew how to provide relief for the scorching tropical heat.

  “We don’t have much farther to go,” Desmond, the driver told her. She loved his accent, tinged with the warmth of the tropic sun. “I know you must be tired and hungry. Mrs. Clarke will have lunch for you. She has been cooking all day. I know she’s excited to have another woman in the house.”

  “So you know my boss?”

  “Of course I know him. Not my business to tell you. You must know he’s a big-shot celebrity, but you’ll find out more soon enough. Just a pity what happened to him.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He has a problem with his leg and hand. He’s not walking properly anymore. Keeps to himself most of the time.”

  “How did he get hurt?”

  “I’m sure he’ll tell you. I’m not supposed to say much. But I’m sure Mrs. Clarke is going to tell you before you hit the pillow tonight.” He laughed. “She’s not a bad woman, but she does like to talk a lot. If you want to know anything that’s happening on the island, you just have to ask her. She would make a good news reporter.” He laughed noisily out loud. He had an infectious laugh, which had her smiling until the car pulled into a long driveway lined with tall palm trees. She then breathed in deeply. “Those palms are so...tall.”

  “That’s why they’re called royal palms, miss. You’ll find them all over the island.”

  “There is something stately about them.”

  “They have been here for more than one hundred years, I’ve been told. The former owners of the house kept records stating that they were planted in 1854.”

  “Wow! I didn’t realize they were so old. Your employer must be proud of this house.”

  “He is. Only purchased it a few years ago. He did extensive renovation. It looks real nice.”

  “So you’ve only been working here since then.”


  “No, I worked a small period for the former owner. When he died, his wife sold the house and moved back to England. The new owner asked all the staff if we wanted to stay on.”

  “That’s really nice of him. He seems like a pretty nice person.”

  “He has his moments.”

  “Can I see him before I go up to my room?”

  “Well, he did give me a message to give you. He’s given you a few days off to relax and enjoy the island. He’s been really busy, but Mrs. Clarke will let you know when he’s ready to begin.”

  This information surprised her. She’d been looking forward to getting down to work. But maybe a day or two to explore the surroundings would help her adjust before she started working.

  * * *

  The door opened and an elderly woman stepped outside. She wore a multicolored dress, which on anyone else would’ve looked horrid but on her seemed like the perfect outfit.

  “It’s wonderful to have another woman in the house,” she said as she took Aaliyah’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm. “I’m Mrs. Clarke and you must be Ms. Carrington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You can call me Aaliyah. Your island is really beautiful and I’m delighted to be here.”

  “Desmond, she’s staying in the guest room just down the corridor from the master bedroom,” she said, turning to him. “You can take her there.” She paused as Desmond headed for the door. “Of course, you can take her luggage at the same time.”

  Sheepishly, Desmond turned back. “Sorry, Mrs. Clarke.”

  “I’m sure you’re hungry, dear. As soon as you’ve freshened up, you can come down to lunch. I haven’t eaten yet, so we can get to know each other.”

  “I’d love to freshen up and yes, I’m hungry. I’m not too thrilled about airline meals, so I ate a good dinner last night. Since I left New York early this morning, I’ve only had a fruit salad, which held me over during the flight.”

  “Well, as soon as you’ve freshened up, just come down the stairs, turn right and you’ll come to the kitchen along that corridor.”

  “I will,” Aaliyah replied, stepping into the house while Desmond held the door.

  What she saw did not come close to what she’d expected. The outside of the house was beautiful, but the inside was spectacular. Like the island, there was a mixture of the old and the new. The interior designer had added blatantly modern pieces to the obvious colonial trappings of the house.

  What she liked most of all were the miniature posters of early African-American movies. Several years ago, she’d seen the Margaret Herrick Library/Edward Mapp Collection at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. She’d had the pleasure of seeing the originals of some of the posters on the wall.

  So her employer was a movie buff. She glanced around to see if she could get a glimpse of anything else of significance, but unless she told Desmond to slow down, that would be impossible. However, she followed him, aware that she’d have time in the next few days to explore the house.

  Upstairs, she followed Desmond into her room, but had to refrain from not jumping immediately into the grand four-poster bed.

  When he wished her goodbye, she took her shoes off and quickly emptied the contents of her suitcases onto the bed. She then placed her clothes into the closet and dresser.

  She headed to the bathroom where she quickly freshened up, promising herself a long, leisurely bath as soon as lunch was over. If she’d not been so hungry and knew that Mrs. Clarke was waiting on her she would have taken a nap, but the sudden growl from her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat.

  Downstairs, she followed Mrs. Clarke’s instructions, but didn’t really need to. She just had to follow the heavenly aroma coming from down the passageway.

  When she stepped into the kitchen, Mrs. Clarke had already set the table. Several dishes of nasal-titillating fare were waiting for her to dig in.

  “Good, you’re here. Just sit where you want and I’ll join you in a sec. Just putting the finishing touches on the salad.”

  Aaliyah sat, restraining herself from taking a spoon and starting on the soup, which seemed to beckon her to eat.

  However, in a short while, Mrs. Clarke placed two salad bowls on the table and sat.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I know you must be hungry.”

  “I’ll manage, though the smell of the soup almost tempted me to start without you.”

  “I would not have minded if you’d started without me, but I thought eating together would be a good way to get to know you. Let me say a short prayer, and then we can eat.” With that, she rattled off a familiar grace.

  From the first mouthwatering spoonful of butternut-squash soup to the cheesecake topped with rum-soaked guavas that had been prepared for dessert, Aaliyah could see why her employer had hired Mrs. Clarke. The woman’s cooking was a joyous culinary experience and already Aaliyah was anticipating dinner.

  “Mrs. Clarke,” she said, “how did you learn to cook like this? You could work in the best restaurants of the world. I have never tasted food so good.”

  “You’re such a sweetheart. I haven’t had a compliment like that in ages. When the former owner lived here, they entertained often and would have family and friends from England come to spend time on the island. They loved my food.”

  “I totally agree with them,” Aaliyah commented, taking her final bite of the moist, tangy cheesecake.

  “Since the new owner bought the house, the parties and dinners have stopped, but he loves a good meal. Though he’s not one for compliments, he pays me well and the look on his face when he has finished a meal says it all. I like things as they are now. I’m getting old in age and don’t have the energy to cater for such events anymore.”

  “I’m glad you’re still enjoying what you do. Which school did you attend?”

  “Didn’t have to go to no fancy culinary school to learn how to cook. My mamma traveled all over the world and taught me everything she knew. She seems to have the knack for cooking, too. Of course, I get some ideas from the Food Network, since there isn’t anything else worth watching besides Scandal. I love me some Olivia Pope. Of course, Fitz is so hot, he could literally cook my food.” She cackled out loud, her generous breasts heaving up and down.

  “Then it’s a date. We can watch the last episode of the season together. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to miss it.”

  “Everyone around here knows that Thursday night is Scandal night. I don’t have to put up a Do Not Disturb sign anymore. Even the boss knows that Thursday is my off night, so dinner must be eaten early.”

  “My sister and her best friend are just as obsessed. They come to my house every Thursday.”

  “You don’t see too many shows with strong black women these days. I remember watching Julie with Dianne Carroll years ago. Now that was some show.”

  “I remember my mom watching it, too. She used to watch a lot of old shows with us.”

  “She’s passed away?” Mrs. Clarke asked softly.

  “Yes, my dad and mom died in an accident when I was fourteen. I lived in foster care until I turned eighteen.”

  “You were an only child?”

  “No, I have three sisters. Fortunately, they were all adopted. I recently reconciled with my sister Eboni. But we still haven’t found the others.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, that’s so sad. To be separated from them must be awful. Are you looking for the others?”

  “Yes, but it’s difficult since they were adopted. I have no idea where they are. I don’t even know if their names were changed.”

  “I am sure you’ll find them.” She raised her hand to the air.

  “I just hope they were in good homes.”

  “I’m sure they were,” Mrs. Clarke reassured her. “I noticed that you’re married. Couldn’t help but see the wedding ring.”

  “I’m sad news all around, I’m afraid. My husband died three years ago. I’m a widow.”

  “Oh, dear. Your life has not been easy.
I’m sure things are going to look up for you soon. The island is the perfect place to start over. By the time you leave here you’ll be ready to live again. Though you must miss your husband.”

  “Yes, I still miss him. I met him in my last foster home and we were friends since the first day I arrived. He protected me and it just seemed the right thing to do—get married.”

  “Well, dear. You have a few months to breathe in some clean fresh air, eat some great food and enjoy the island.”

  “Don’t forget I’m here to work,” Aaliyah reminded her.

  “I haven’t forgotten, but when you’re not working with him, you’ll be able to do all those things, along with watching Scandal with me on Thursday nights.”

  Aaliyah laughed in response to Mrs. Clarke’s own laughter.

  “See, you’re already laughing. Life is too short to be sad about things we can’t control or change.” She reached over and squeezed Aaliyah’s hand. “However, I know that right now you must be tired. You go take a shower and get some rest. I’ll call you down for dinner around seven o’clock.”

  “Thanks. I am feeling a bit tired. Hopefully, a nice bath and some rest will help.”

  “Good, you go on ahead. I have to start planning tonight’s dinner.”

  Aaliyah rose from the chair. “Thanks for the wonderful lunch. Do you know if I’ll get to meet the boss tonight?”

  “I’m not sure, but when he’s ready to see you, he will.”

  With that, Mrs. Clarke rose and headed to the sink.

  Who on earth was her patient? Aaliyah wondered. This assignment was getting more mysterious by the minute.

  * * *

  That evening, Dominic watched as his new therapist walked down the corridor. He’d heard the footsteps coming up the stairs as he’d been about to step through his bedroom door. He’d been on his way down to visit his beloved puppy before he went to sleep, a nightly ritual, which he thoroughly enjoyed.

  Some nights he’d take Nugget on a walk above the cliffs. Other nights, he’d stay with the pup until he fell asleep on his lap. He could not imagine his life without the pup and remembered his reluctance when Desmond had first brought the tiny bundle home, just a few weeks after he’d arrived on the island. He had no time for cute furry animals, but when the shivering puppy had looked up at him with wide-eyed innocence and licked his hand, it melted his heart.