by S. J. West
“I could try, Abby,” I said. “But Malcolm is extremely over protective of Sebastian. I’m not sure anything I say will make him feel comfortable with the situation.”
“Could you just try, please,” she pleaded. I almost felt like Abby’s mother then. She was acting like a love struck teenager begging her Mom for help with her boyfriend’s parent.
“I’ll do what I can,” I told Abby, not knowing how I would talk Malcolm into letting Sebastian court Brand’s daughter.
Chapter 10
After our talk with Abby, I had Brand take me back to my apartment. I felt a little guilty for leaving Tara alone so much, especially so soon after her break up with Simon. Brand understood my need to be with Tara and simply sat in the background while she and I did girly things like paint each other’s fingernails and toenails while she caught me up on campus gossip.
Brand sat on the futon scribbling in a notebook he had brought with him.
“What are you doing?” I asked hobbling over to him with the toe spacers still on my feet, coming to sit beside him.
“Working on something,” he said, closing the book before I had a chance to take a peek at what he was writing.
“Is it a secret?” I asked intrigued by his behavior.
“Sort of,” he said with a shy grin. “I’m still working on that poem for you.”
I remembered inadvertently reading the first two lines of the poem that day in biology class, before we’d even gone on our first official date. I’d almost forgotten about it.
“How’s it coming?” My curiosity was piqued now at the reminder.
“Slow,” Brand admitted, dragging the word out to emphasis just how slow it was going. “In all of the hobbies I’ve had over the years, writing poetry has never been one of them. I think I know why now,” he chuckled scratching his head.
“So when do you think it will be ready for me to read?”
“Maybe by the time we get married.” He grinned uncertainly. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him. He just looked too cute.
“Malcolm’s right,” I heard Tara say from her seat at the table, blowing on her nails to help them dry faster. “That’s all y’all do.”
I pulled away from Brand and stuck my tongue out at her.
“When you fall in love, I’ll remember you said that,” I told her.
“Pfft, that’ll be a while off. I don’t need a man in my life right now. They’re nothing but trouble.”
There was a loud knock at the door. Brand got up to answer it.
“Might have known you would be here,” I heard Malcolm say. “May I come in?”
Brand stood away from the entrance to allow Malcolm entry into the apartment.
“I had an idea,” Malcolm announced. Malcolm was dressed in a long black leather coat, black jeans, and a blood red button down shirt. “I think I might know of a way to find Faust.”
“How?” I asked, unable to conceal my excitement.
“You remember Horace don’t you?” Malcolm asked Brand.
“Is he still looking for his ring?”
“Yes. He runs a pawn shop in New York now. He might be able to tell us where Faust is hiding out.”
“It’s worth a try, I guess,” Brand said obviously thinking it was a long shot.
“I think you and I both know he won’t tell you anything,” Malcolm said. “I thought I might take Lilly there to see what we could learn from him.”
“Lilly doesn’t need to be with you when you speak to him,” Brand said, instantly suspicious of Malcolm’s true motives for requesting my company.
“Well, before I decide if I’m going anywhere, who is Horace?” I asked.
“He’s a jinn,” Malcolm replied. “But he lost the ring which his powers are attached to. Without it, he can’t start a new contract with someone.”
“What happened to the ring?”
“His last patron took it so Horace couldn’t trick anyone else into making wishes. I think he might have thrown it into the ocean or down a volcano. Poor Horace has been searching for it ever since.”
“I would like to go,” I told Brand. If this jinn could help me find Faust, I wanted to meet him for myself.
“What makes you think he’ll talk to you?” Brand asked Malcolm.
“There’s no guarantee he will,” Malcolm admitted. “But he’d be more willing to talk to me than you. Plus,” Malcolm pulled out a small blue velvet bag from his coat pocket and jingled it. “I have a collection of antique rings to bribe him with. Who knows, one of them might be Horace’s. Do you have a better idea on how to find Faust?”
I could see Brand was reluctant to admit he didn’t but he finally said, “No.”
“Good,” Malcolm looked down at the toe spacers still on my feet. “You might want to take those off before we go, dearest,” he suggested. “People in New York are progressive but those things might draw the wrong type of attention.”
I just rolled my eyes at Malcolm and went to my room to change my clothes for our trip to New York. Malcolm was about to follow me, but Brand put a restraining hand on his arm.
“That’s my job,” he reminded my friend. “Not yours.”
Before we left for New York, Brand kissed me lightly on the lips.
“Take care of her,” he said looking into my eyes but obviously speaking to Malcolm.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Malcolm grabbed my hand and phased us before I had a chance to say goodbye.
In an instant, we were standing on the corner of a busy street in front of a store. I looked up over the door and saw the storefront sign: ‘Horace’s Pawn and Trade, Rings of All Kind Welcomed’.
It didn’t look like we were in the most fashionable part of town. The street and buildings around us looked pretty old and not well kept. I saw a few women who looked like street walkers only a few yards away from us smoking cigarettes, eyeing Malcolm like he was a rare piece of chocolate they wanted to devour.
Malcolm tugged on my hand which was still firmly clasped in his. “Come, dearest. Let’s see what Horace might be able to tell us.”
As we walked into the dilapidated building, a bell attached to the front door rang announcing our arrival into the shop. I had never been in a pawn shop before, but I thought this one seemed extremely untidy. There were various items ranging from stereo systems to cowboy boots piled onto shelves without seeming to have any discernable order to their placement at all. A glass enclosed counter containing various pieces of jewelry ran from the front door to the middle of the shop.
I heard a door open somewhere near the back of the shop and saw a man hurriedly shuffle his way to the other side of the glass counter we stood in front of. He was only a little bit taller than me, slightly overweight with balding light brown hair, a mustache and goatee which seemed to be the home of more than a few bread crumbs, and black framed glasses. He was dressed shabbily in a grey and blue checkered shirt which had a fresh mustard stain down the front and a thin blue zippered jacket and matching pants.
“How can I help you today?” He asked coming to stand across from us behind the counter before he even looked up. He talked in a hurried, irritated tone like we were disturbing him from doing something important.
“Hello, Horace,” Malcolm said leaning his hip against the glass counter.
When Horace’s eyes finally met Malcolm’s, I saw him wince.
“What brings you here, Malcolm?” Horace said, tapping his fingers against the counter nervously.
“I thought you might be able to help me and my friend out. Lilly, I’d like to introduce you to Horace.”
Like I would anyone I was meeting for the first time, I extended a hand out to the jinn. He looked at my hand and quickly glanced at Malcolm before deciding to follow through with what was meant to be a polite handshake. He shook my hand so fast I wasn’t completely sure it had actually happened.
“What do you want?” Horace asked. “I’m kind of busy you know.”
Malcolm lifted a
dubious eyebrow in Horace’s direction and slowly surveyed his establishment. “So I see,” he said. “We were wondering if you could tell us where Faust is hiding out these days.”
“F-f-faust?” Horace stammered in a whisper. He acted like just saying the name would bring the building down around our heads. “What do you need with him?”
“He’s been trying to kill this beautiful young woman next to me. I want to ask him why.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Horace said quickly. “You need to leave.”
Even I could tell Horace was lying. He did know where Faust was. He was just too scared to tell us.
“Not even for a bag full of antique rings?” Malcolm said, bringing out the bag from his coat and tossing it on the counter in front of Horace.
Before Horace could snatch the bag up, Malcolm grabbed his hand.
“Where is Faust? If you just tell us that, I’ll let you have the rings. I’m sure even if one of them isn’t yours, you could sell them for a tidy profit.”
Horace snatched his hand out of Malcolm’s, eyeing the bag with an obsessive lust I had never seen on anyone’s face before.
“You go to the movies much?” Horace asked.
“Why?” Malcolm responded.
“If you do, you’ve probably heard of an actor named Lloyd Cushing. If you find him, you’ll find Faust.”
“That’s his new patron I assume?”
“Yes.”
Malcolm pushed the bag closer to Horace. “Thank you, Horace. Now, was that so difficult?”
Horace snatched the bag of rings to his chest. “Is that all you want?”
“Yes. We’ll be going. Good luck in your search.”
Malcolm took my hand again and before I knew it, we were standing outside the Statue of Liberty on the platform beneath the flame of her torch.
I couldn’t help but shiver from the cold wind coming off the water making the early evening air even colder.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Malcolm said, opening his long leather coat up and bringing me in close to his body to keep me warm. “I forgot to tell you to bring a coat. I wanted to show you the view from here while we were in New York.”
The only view I was seeing at the moment were the peaks of Malcolm’s muscular chest. I looked up at my friend and saw him smiling down at me in a tender way which instantly made me feel uneasy in the intimate embrace I found myself in with him.
“I think I’d rather just go home,” I said through the chatter of my teeth.
“Nonsense,” he said holding me tighter in an effort to provide me with what warmth he could. In actuality, it just made me have to turn my face to the side and lay my cheek against his bare skin.
“I can’t bring you to New York and not try to show you some of the city. It just wouldn’t be right, dearest.”
“Could we at least go somewhere a little bit warmer?” I asked, unable to keep myself from wrapping my arms around Malcolm’s waist to try and find more heat from his body.
After what was probably only a minute but seemed like forever, I heard him mumble, “If you wish.”
The air around us quickly warmed up and Malcolm reluctantly let me go.
We were standing in front of a matre d' podium.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see the two of you standing there. Welcome to the Russian Tea Room,” the lady behind the podium said to us. “A cozy booth for two?”
“Yes, thank you,” Malcolm said extending his arm for me to take.
We followed the woman up to the second floor into a room with mirrors on all four walls. There was a15-foot revolving glass bear aquarium at the front end of the room and a spectacular gold tree with Venetian glass eggs hanging from its limbs at the other end. The woman sat us down at a booth made for two and handed us each menus.
“I think we’ll start out with the Imperial black caviar if you don’t mind,” Malcolm said smoothly, “and a couple of glasses of white wine.”
“Just water for me,” I told the woman. “I’m not twenty-one yet,” I reminded Malcolm.
“Ahh, I forget that,” he said. “Fine, wine for me and water for the lady.”
“Yes, sir.”
After the woman walked away, I reached for my phone. I was glad I had thought to bring it along.
“Who are you calling?” Malcolm asked eyeing me over the top of his menu, even though I could tell he knew perfectly well who I would be calling.
“I want to let Brand know where we are,” I answered finding his number on my contact list. “He’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from me.”
I told Brand that Malcolm asked me out to dinner while we were in New York. I could tell he wasn’t pleased by the restrained tone of his voice but his words told me to have a good time.
I had of course heard of the Russian Tea Room before but my limited experience was confined to what I had seen on TV and movies. I tried my best to find one entree on the menu and ended up thinking they all sounded equally good. I finally settled on the chicken tabaka. Malcolm had the aged New York strip.
While we ate our caviar, waiting for our meals to be served, I felt it was a good time to have a little discussion with Malcolm.
“Brand told me what you said to him the other night about me having doubts about marrying him,” I said.
He didn’t seem too surprised and just shrugged.
“I stand by what I told him,” he replied.
“Do you like hurting him like that?” I asked, not wanting to believe Malcolm could purposely be so heartless.
“I’m just being honest with him. Why else would you willingly wait so long to marry him?”
“I want to finish school first, Malcolm. Why is that so hard to understand?”
“It sounds like an excuse, if you ask me.”
“If you knew my mother, you would understand.”
“What does your mother have to do with it?” I could tell Malcolm hadn’t expected this turn in the conversation.
“I don’t want to end up like her,” I admitted. It was the first time I’d said it to anyone out loud. “I don’t want to be an uneducated woman whose only purpose in life is a man or men in my mother’s case. I don’t want marriage to be the only thing of real substance about me. I don’t want it to define who I am. I need to prove to myself that I’m more than that and can take care of myself before I can commit my life to someone else. Does that make sense to you? Can you understand that?”
“I suppose,” Malcolm conceded. “But it doesn’t change the fact I still have four years to try and change your mind.” He waved his eyebrows up and down at me in a suggestive manner, and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him and grin. He was hopelessly incorrigible.
“I love Brand,” I said to him. “You’re never going to change that.”
“You should have the cheesecake for dessert,” was all he said in reply, trying to change the subject.
Seeing that I wasn’t making much of a dent in his resolve to change my mind about marrying Brand, I decided to try attacking another front.
“Brand talked with Abby today,” I told him.
“Did he have any luck changing her mind about Sebastian? I know I haven’t been able to get my pig headed son to listen to reason.”
“He basically told her to do what would make her happy.”
“He did what?” Malcolm almost yelled.
Everyone in the room looked at us but quickly returned to their meals out of politeness.
“You need to do the same thing for Sebastian,” I told him. “He’s your son. Don’t you want to see him happy?”
“Well of course I do,” Malcolm mumbled sitting back in his chair, throwing his napkin on the table in disgust. “But how do I know being with that girl is the right thing for him? He’s been perfectly happy with the way things have been so far in his life.”
“Everyone needs someone to love,” I told him. “If Sebastian and Abby think they are in love, let them have their chance. Wouldn’t you do everything you could for
the person you loved?”
Malcolm sighed letting my words sink in.
“Yes. I would do anything for her.” He glanced up at me.
“Then let Sebastian decide if Abby is the one for him for himself. If you don’t, you might cause a rift in your relationship with your son that can’t be mended, and I don’t think you want that to happen.”
“No,” Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb as if our conversation were giving him a headache. “I couldn’t stand losing him like that.”
“Then you need to let go,” I said. “Let him know you trust him to be the man you raised and make his own decisions. Don’t try to be his Lord and master. He’s a grown man. He has the right to make his own decisions, even if you don’t agree with them.”
“And Brand’s ok with what it all means? He does realize we’ll be in each other’s lives for the rest of our children’s lives, doesn’t he?”
“He’s fully aware of that,” I said. “No, he’s not extremely happy about that part of it, but he wants Abby to be happy. He’s willing to make the sacrifice.”
“Well, I just want to go on record and say that I don’t like it. But, I know you’re right. I shouldn’t try to hold Sebastian back. He’s been alone for a long time. He’s too good of a person not to share his life with someone else, besides me.”
I put my hand over the one Malcolm hand resting on the table. “I’m proud of you.”
He picked up my hand with his other one and kissed it gently. “You seem to keep changing me, dearest.”
“For the better I hope.”
“Only time will tell.”
I made sure to bring home a whole cheesecake for Tara and Brand from the restaurant. Tara was all over it, but Brand simply said he didn’t like plain cheesecake. I suspected he just didn’t want anything Malcolm had paid for.
Malcolm told them both what we had learned from Horace.
“I’ll go to California tomorrow,” Malcolm said. “It shouldn’t be hard to find this actor. Wherever he is, Faust won’t be too far behind.”
