by Regina Hart
“It was bad?” Doreen’s brow knitted with concern.
Darius looked from Doreen to Alonzo beside her. Ean stood with Megan. Like her son, Doreen was referring to Darius’s first Thanksgiving with his separated parents. He had nothing to give them.
Darius sliced into the moist, soft pastry Doreen had served him. “Your brownie will make everything right again. You should offer the recipe to the U.S. State Department. It could bring about world peace.”
“All right, all right. I’ll let you change the subject.” Doreen shook her head with indulgent amusement. “I’m just glad you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”
“Wherever your desserts are, I won’t be far behind.” Darius swallowed a bite of brownie, letting the chocolate and sugar improve his mood.
Alonzo chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
The front doorbell rang again. Doreen and Alonzo excused themselves to answer it.
Megan hooked her arm through Ean’s and met Darius’s eyes. “The open house wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Ean grunted. “Except there’d be more pastries for everyone else.”
Darius gave Ean a grateful look for his attempt at humor, then addressed Megan. “How’s your first Thanksgiving without Ramona?”
Megan’s smile was warm. “It’s a little strange. But she’s happy and I’m thrilled for her. She keeps saying she can’t wait to join Quincy in Philadelphia.”
Ramona had sounded a little too enthusiastic when she’d made the comment during Dr. Hartford’s banquet. Had she been trying to convince herself or everyone else?
Darius sliced into his brownie again. “Is she nervous? This is the first time she’s visiting Quincy’s family as his girlfriend.”
“She’ll be fine.” Megan chuckled. “I gave her a pep talk.”
Darius raised his eyebrows. “What did you—”
“Darius.” Doreen interrupted them as she and Alonzo rejoined the group. “Look who’s joined us.”
At the last minute, Darius remembered to hold on to the paper plate that carried his brownie. His wide-eyed gaze locked with Ethel’s. “Mom, what are you doing here?”
Ethel surveyed the dining room. “I’ve heard of Doreen’s Thanksgiving open houses for years. I thought I’d come by and see what all the fuss was about.” Her expression made it clear she still didn’t understand why people made a big deal of the event.
Doreen’s smile was gracious. “You’re always welcome, Ethel.”
“Could you excuse us for a moment?” Darius took Ethel’s arm to escort his mother from the kitchen to the relatively empty dining room. “What are you doing?”
Ethel jerked her arm from his hold. “Why did you haul me out of the room like a sack of potatoes?”
“Doreen has hosted these dessert parties for decades. Why did you choose this year to come?”
“Everyone else in town is here.” Ethel waved an arm to encompass the few people in the dining room. “Why shouldn’t I be here, too?”
The doorbell rang again, underscoring Ethel’s point about the number of guests who attend Doreen’s get-together. It also reminded him that he was missing the football games.
“All right, Mom.” Darius forced his shoulders to relax. “Just please don’t disrespect Doreen in her own house.”
Ethel raised her chin. “I would never do such a thing.”
Darius gave her a dubious look. He started to respond when he sensed someone beside him.
“The whole family’s here.” Simon’s voice boomed with good cheer.
Darius’ shoulders dropped as he turned to face his father. Maybe his parents thought meeting here was a great idea, but he couldn’t think of anything worse. In the past, he’d used Doreen’s event to escape from his family. Tonight, there was no escape.
“Family? What family?” At least Ethel kept her reply to a low hiss.
“Do we have to do this here and now?” Darius felt the familiar heat of embarrassment rising in his face. He was afraid to look around to see who else in the dining room was aware of the latest Knight Family Flare-up.
“This isn’t my doing.” Ethel defended herself to Darius, even as her glare held Simon in place.
“I’m always the one at fault. Is that it?” Simon shot back.
“That’s right.” Ethel wouldn’t give an inch.
The front doorbell rang again. The crowd was large and growing larger. Who else would be exposed to the Knight Family Feud?
“Why don’t the two of you separate?” Darius placed a hand on each parent’s shoulder. “Doreen has opened plenty of other rooms to her guests.”
“Why do I have to leave?” they asked in unison.
If they didn’t have an audience before, they had one now. Darius dropped his hands, fisting them at his sides. If one of them didn’t move to another room, he’d drag both of them from Doreen’s home. He didn’t care how much attention that spectacle would garner.
“I don’t care which one of you goes to another room,” Darius said through clenched teeth. “But you can’t both stay here, not if you’re going to snipe at each other all evening.”
Tense seconds that felt like minutes ticked by as Ethel and Simon locked gazes.
Finally, Simon looked away. “I’ll move to the family room. There’s a TV in there anyway. I can watch the game.”
Crisis averted. Darius was almost weak with relief. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Ethel gasped. “You’re going to leave me by myself and go off with your father? Typical.”
Darius frowned. “You came by yourself.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to stay by myself.”
“Then mingle, Mom. I’m going to watch what’s left of the game.” Darius headed back to the kitchen and his friends.
“Everything OK?” Megan asked Darius.
“Yes. What did I miss?” Darius reclaimed his brownie.
Despite Megan, Ean, Ms. Helen, and Alonzo’s obvious concern, they once again allowed Darius to change the subject.
“You didn’t miss much, although Doreen’s been gone a little longer than usual.” Alonzo frowned in the direction of the front door.
Darius finished his brownie and nudged Ean. “Let’s go see what’s taking your mother so long.”
Alonzo led Darius, Megan, and Ean out of the kitchen and across the living room toward the front door. The heavy, cool breeze rushing down the hallway toward them indicated the entrance was still open. Darius’s curiosity spiked. Muffled voices floated toward him.
“Nessa, you’re welcome to come in and enjoy some refreshments. But I won’t allow you to insult me in my own home.” This was Doreen’s voice.
Without speaking, the group picked up their pace.
“Is something wrong?” Alonzo stopped beside Doreen in the front doorway.
Nessa surveyed the sheriff. “Alonzo, are you hosting this get-together with Doreen?”
“Doreen doesn’t need much help.” Alonzo had his game face on, making his thoughts difficult to read.
“Just like a married couple.” Nessa pursed her lips. “But without the benefit of the blessing. Are there plans to make this little setup official?”
Darius felt the sting of the councilwoman’s words as though they were directed at him. “Why are you in such a rush to get them married, Nessa?”
“Who left the door open?” Ms. Helen’s querulous question preceded the older woman’s approach. She made a place for herself between Darius and Alonzo. “Nessa? What are you doing here?”
“I’d hoped to share some fellowship with my neighbors.” Nessa folded her hands over the brown purse hanging from her left shoulder.
“Fellowship?” Ms. Helen gave a soft chuckle. “I know what you’re doing, Nessa.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nessa gave the older woman a pious look.
Ms. Helen’s expression hardened. “This is a friendly gathering. You’re not welcome to bring your poison here.”
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nessa gaped.
“No?” Ms. Helen nudged Doreen’s hand from the doorknob. “Go home and pray on it. It’ll come to you.” Ms. Helen closed the door in Nessa’s face, then secured the lock.
Darius ended the stunned silence. “Ms. Helen, why did you do that?”
Ms. Helen shrugged. “Somebody had to make a decision. Doreen was letting all the heat out.”
Doreen gestured toward the closed door. “I was trying to handle Nessa diplomatically. I have to work with her when I take office in January.”
“Blame it on me, dear.” Ms. Helen patted Doreen’s back. “But someone had to save you from yourself.”
Darius offered Ms. Helen his left arm. “There’s never a dull moment with you. Let’s get you into the kitchen. It’s warmer in there.”
“This isn’t funny.” Doreen walked with them. “Slamming my door in Nessa’s face isn’t going to improve my relationship with her.”
Darius swallowed an inappropriate laugh. To have seen the look on Nessa’s face . . .
“Ms. Helen’s right. Nessa wasn’t here for fellowship.” Darius escorted Ms. Helen to the kitchen table. “But we do need to know what she’s up to.”
Doreen crossed to the oven. “I’ve been racking my brain, but I can’t think of a thing.”
“We’ll all have to keep thinking about it.” Ms. Helen released Darius’s arm as she sank onto one of the blond wood chairs at the matching kitchen table. “Meanwhile, when are you and Peyton going to stop wasting time and start working on the fundraiser for the community center?”
“As soon as she returns from New York.” Darius leaned his hip against the yellow-and-white marble kitchen counter.
Ms. Helen nodded her satisfaction. “Good. It took you two long enough.”
Darius frowned. The twinkle in his elderly friend’s eyes made him uneasy. “Ms. Helen, are you the one behind the town’s matchmaking schemes?”
“Don’t you think I have better things to do?” Which wasn’t exactly an answer.
God save him from well-meaning friends. Judging by their self-satisfied expressions, you’d think working together on the fundraiser put Peyton and him one step from the altar.
But it wasn’t the fundraising committee that scared him. It was the physical attraction that intensified each time he saw the little professor that had him questioning his decision to cochair the committee.
Would he be able to resist her? Did he really want to?
CHAPTER 15
Alonzo studied the shadows moving across his bedroom ceiling Friday night. He’d spent so many years dreaming of having Doreen in his bed, her naked body pressed to his. Even after five months, he still couldn’t believe his dream had come true.
He tightened his embrace, drawing her even closer to his side. Her firm, slender limbs were sprawled across his in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Her breaths were soft against his chest. Alonzo turned his head and placed a kiss on her hair. It was like silk beneath his lips. She smelled like spring flowers.
“Am I dreaming?” His pulse had returned to normal as his body cooled. But now his heart was racing again. Nerves.
“Maybe we both are.” She whispered back with a smile in her voice.
Why was he so anxious? In his law enforcement career, he’d confronted armed sociopaths without a qualm. But the idea of asking the love of his life to marry him filled him with panic. He feared her rejection more than a bullet.
“Doreen, I’m going to retire next December, at the end of my term.” That had sounded more romantic in his mind.
Doreen untangled her limbs from his and leaned back to look up at him. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”
“I can afford to retire now.” He met her dark eyes in the shadows. “I’m not rich, but I have money saved and good investments. I can afford to take care of myself. And someone else.”
“You don’t think you’ll get bored?”
“Not with you.” He stroked her knitted eyebrows with the pads of his left fingers, coaxing her to relax. “Besides, this will give me more time to volunteer for community projects. And you can teach me how to run the cash register so I can help fill in for you when you need to take care of your mayoral duties.”
Doreen smiled. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.” Alonzo frowned at the surprise in her voice. “We’re partners, remember? In my entire life, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”
“You make me happy, too.” Doreen cupped the side of his face with her small, soft hand.
Alonzo pressed a kiss into her palm. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Doreen tensed within his embrace. “Alonzo—”
“Marry me, please, Doreen. You’d make me the happiest man on the planet if you’d agree to be my wife.” Alonzo remained still, returning her gaze as Doreen searched his face.
“Is this about what Nessa said yesterday during our Thanksgiving open house?”
Out of all the scenarios he’d prepared for, that response wasn’t among them. “Of course not.”
Doreen wiggled free, tugging the bedsheets and blanket with her. She sat back against his headboard. “I’m not going to allow Nessa or anyone to pressure me into getting married.”
It was as though she hadn’t heard him. “I’m not pressuring you. I’m proposing.”
“Marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly.”
“So I’ve heard.” Alonzo pushed himself up to sit beside her. He was suddenly aware of the chill in the room.
“As much as I loved Paul, marriage is a lot of work.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Doreen gave him a hard stare. “Are you mocking me?”
“No, Doreen. I’m telling you that I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“But we don’t have to be married to do that.” Doreen clutched the sheet to her chest with one fist. “Forget Nessa. She’s not the morality police.”
“This isn’t about Nessa.” The pain in his chest was sharp, hot and deep, making it difficult to speak. “It’s about you and me, and the fact that I’ve wanted to marry you for more than forty years.”
“Alonzo, I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know? Whether you love me? Whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me or whether you want to marry me?”
She looked stricken. “I care about you.”
Oh no. Not the I-care-about-you speech.
“You said that to me forty years ago.” Alonzo threw back the covers and marched to his closet. He grabbed his robe from one of the hooks and tugged it on. “I care about you, too, Doreen. I care so much that I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife. What is it that you want?”
“I need time to think.”
Time to think.
Was he rushing her? Doreen’s husband of more than thirty years had died less than two years ago. Maybe he was being impatient.
“You’re right.” Alonzo belted his robe. He turned toward the door. “I’m sorry I rushed you.”
“Where are you going?”
Alonzo spoke over his shoulder. “I need a glass of water.”
More than that, he needed time to handle his disappointment. Doreen hadn’t rejected him. She’d just put him on hold. But how much more time would she need to realize they were each other’s happily-ever-after? What more could he do or say to convince her?
“Are you free for lunch, son?” Simon’s voice came from behind Darius.
Surprised, he turned to face his father, who stood in the entrance to his cubicle at the Monitor’s office Monday morning. Darius’s mind had been a million miles away. Well, not a million. The Guiding Light Community Center was only seven miles away. That’s where Darius was meeting Peyton at eleven-thirty. After a tour of the center, they were having lunch at Books & Bakery.
“I’m afraid not. I have other plans.” Darius stood and shrugged into his c
oat.
“Are you having lunch with your mother?” Simon sounded hopeful.
Darius rubbed his eyes with his thumb and two fingers. His parents’ relationship had gone from bad to almost intolerable. He’d thought things would get better if they weren’t together. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I’m meeting Peyton for lunch. We’re cochairing the committee to raise money for the community center.” Darius buttoned his black wool topcoat. It was the first of December. Temperatures had nosedived over Thanksgiving weekend.
“I didn’t know you were cochairing a fundraiser. How long have you been working on it?”
“This is our first meeting.” Darius was uncomfortable with Simon’s sudden interest in his life after thirty-four years.
“Oh.” Simon stepped farther into the cubicle. “Well, how many people are in the group?”
“We haven’t asked for volunteers yet.” Darius had a sense of foreboding.
“I’d be happy to help.” Simon rocked on his heels as though he’d solved all of Darius’s problems. His father didn’t seem to realize he was one of them.
“You’ve never served on a committee before.” In fact, his father had never volunteered for anything.
“There’s a first time for everything, son.”
“We need people who are willing to work hard. This fundraiser needs to move fast. We want to raise a lot of money in a short amount of time.”
“Then I’m your man.”
Somehow Darius had a hard time believing that. “This is strictly a volunteer assignment. No one’s getting paid.”
“I know.”
Darius eyed the older man suspiciously. “Then why do you want to do this?”
Simon’s gaze slid away from Darius and wandered around the office space. What was his father looking for? There wasn’t anything of a personal nature in his cubicle: no certificates, awards, photos, or knickknacks. Just a bunch of project folders, reference books, two coffee mugs, and a guest chair he’d pilfered from an empty cubicle. Darius didn’t know why he’d made the decision to keep his cubicle impersonal. He just preferred it that way.
His father faced him again. “I’m bored.”
“Then clean your apartment.”
