“Good. I’ll call you on Friday and let you know what time to meet us and where.”
“Thank you, baby. Goodbye.”
As Mary moved to place the evening’s meal onto the table, Herman watched her closely. Talisa had shared her concerns about her mother before departing on her trip, begging him to contact their family physician for advice.
There had always been problems between him and Mary, but their baby girl had been the glue that had kept them together. Talisa, and plain, old-fashioned till-death-do-they-part love had been the lifeline that kept them hanging on. Admittedly, his wife had always been high-strung, her nerves wound just a touch too tight for comfort, but he loved her. He had loved her for over forty years. And Herman still loved her, crazy and all, whether he said so or not.
Because he and Talisa had been the only witnesses to Mary’s erratic behavior, he’d learned to ignore it once he escaped out the front door each morning. Talisa had learned the art of ignoring her mother’s bizarre behavior from him, and now it was Talisa, miles away in another land, who was insisting they give their albatross a name and let it out for the whole world to see.
Their mother-daughter excursions had been another Leila brainchild, initiated their first year in college to celebrate Mother’s Day, and followed with some reluctance by Talisa and Mya. Over the years it had been expanded to include birthdays, various holidays, and any celebratory event one or the other could plan a meal or evening out around.
The friendship between Talisa, Leila and Mya had also ignited a sisterly camaraderie between their mothers, and so there was nothing unusual when the three elderly women greeted each other with hugs and kisses as they met at the entrance of the Toulouse Bistro.
“Mary, how are you?” Nellie Brimmer gushed as she wrapped her arms around the other woman’s shoulders.
“I’m doing just fine, Nellie. Hello, Miss Hazel!”
Mya’s mother, Hazel Taft, joined in the embrace. Mya and Leila stood off to the side. Both women rolled their eyes at the three matriarchs giggling their excitement in loud whispers.
“Our table is ready,” Leila said, gesturing in the direction of the hostess.
“Thank goodness,” Mya said with a deep sigh, leading them toward a large table in the rear dining room.
An eclectic mix of local artwork decorated the restaurant’s neutral walls. One in particular, an impressionist landscape caught Leila’s eye and she pointed it out to her mother, asking the woman’s opinion.
“Does this child buy everything she sees and wants?” Hazel asked with a laugh, fanning her hand in Leila’s direction.
Nellie laughed with her. “Child keeps telling me she can’t take her money with her when she dies so she might as well spend it while she’s alive.”
“My Talisa saves every dime,” Mary chimed in. “She’ll be more than ready for a rainy day.”
Mya shrugged her shoulders upward and scoffed. “I’d save too if I still lived at home.”
“No one told you to move out,” Hazel responded. “You were the one in such a hurry to be grown.”
“No, Mother. I didn’t leave because I was in a hurry to be grown. I was grown. It was time for me to leave,” Mya said curtly.
The three mothers each raised an eyebrow in Mya’s direction. Mya’s mother shook her head, waving it from side to side.
Leila’s mother sucked her teeth.
A tall, young woman with vibrant red hair made her way to the table and introduced herself, handing them each a menu as a busboy hurried to fill their empty water glasses with fluid. As the woman turned away to give them some time to consider their order, Mary London broke the tense silence by changing the subject.
“That sure is a nice-looking man eating all by himself over there.”
Everyone at the table turned to see where she pointed, each nodding in agreement.
“He’s probably on the DL,” Mya stated, sizing up the sienna-toned man with a mountain of black, silk curls sitting atop his head. “He looks pretty like that.”
“DL? What’s that?” Mary asked.
Leila giggled. “The down low. It means he dates women, in fact, he may even be married, but he sleeps around with men in secret.”
“That’s just plain nasty,” Mary said as she skewed her face in disgust. “What about the poor women they’re with?”
“It’s a definite problem, Mrs. London. Makes it hard for us girls to find a good man,” Mya answered.
The three older women shook their heads.
“Well, I’m glad my Talisa isn’t thinking about some man who might do her wrong like that,” Mary stated emphatically. “My girl is focused on her career doing God’s work. I think she might even go into the ministry and preach. Talisa’s not thinking about no man. They ain’t nothing but trouble anyway.”
Leila and Mya both chuckled, cutting an eye toward one another.
“I don’t know about all that,” Mya laughed.
Mary turned, squinting her displeasure in Mya’s direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I thought you told me there’s a man Talisa is interested in?” Nellie asked, her gaze falling on her own daughter.
“What man?” Mary queried, a rise of tension washing over her body.
“The doctor she met at that charity auction,” Leila answered casually, pulling a menu into her hands and feigning interest at the listings.
“Talisa is not interested in that man,” Mary stated.
“Leila, you told me when Talisa called you that she said things were really good with her and that man,” Nellie said, a look of confusion crossing her face. “What did she call you from Africa and tell you that for if it wasn’t true?”
“Talisa called you from Africa?” Mary asked, her voice rising an octave.
A wave of anxiety crossed Leila’s face and she looked toward Mya for assistance.
“I’m sure she tried to call you, too, Mrs. London,” Mya said. “Leila said she tried to call us all, but the phone lines were funny and she had a hard time connecting.”
“That’s right,” Leila added. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.”
Mary looked from one girl to the other, her expression less than pleased. “Is that man in Africa with Talisa, Leila?”
Leila bit down against her bottom lip. Her gaze met Mya’s and both knew they’d stepped right into it with both feet with no way out, and poor Talisa would suffer for the infraction. Before Leila could answer, Mary London jumped out of her seat and stormed straight out of the restaurant.
“Have mercy!” Hazel exclaimed, shock registered on her round face. “Talisa didn’t tell her mama about this man?”
Mya shrugged.
“Leila, baby, you should have told me Mary didn’t know what Talisa was up to,” Nellie said, her tone chastising.
“Mama, Talisa’s not up to anything. I told you, she and Dr. Becton had no idea the other one was going to be in Africa. I also told you that Mrs. London hasn’t been acting right, but you didn’t want to believe me.”
“I think she was just upset about Talisa calling you and not her,” Hazel interjected.
“I don’t think so, Ma,” Mya responded. “Mrs. London has always been controlling and she has some real issues with Talisa dating. Remember when Talisa was going out with that guy in college and things didn’t work out for them? Mrs. London told her it was all her fault. Ever since then, no matter who Talisa is interested in, Mrs. London keeps telling her it will end up bad, that Talisa’s a fool, and how she’s going to have to pick up the pieces and fix things because Talisa’s not capable.”
“Mary is not that bad, Miss Mya,” Nellie said.
Leila shook her head. “No, Mama. She’s worse. You two have just never seen her the way Mya and I have. Mrs. London can be pretty cruel toward Talisa when she wants to be. Personally, I think she needs professional help.”
Nellie tossed Hazel a look. “Well, you two stay out of it. Hazel and I will run by the house and make sure M
ary’s okay before we go home.”
“Mama, Talisa really likes this man and from what she says I think he likes her, too. It would be a shame if Mrs. London messed this up for her.”
“Mary only wants what’s best for Talisa, Leila. That’s all any of us want for you girls.”
Mya nodded. “But in this case, Mrs. Brimmer, I don’t think Mrs. London has a clue what’s best for Talisa.”
Herman was hanging up the telephone receiver when Mary slammed through the front door, cursing a long string of expletives. Their daughter’s name was peppered between each negative comment and Herman couldn’t begin to imagine what wrong thing Mary could possibly believe Talisa had done.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” he asked as she pushed past him, her face bloated with rage.
His question was met with continued ranting, not one word of it making an ounce of sense. His tone raised, he asked again. “Mary, what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Leave me alone.”
The man heaved a deep sigh, sucking in oxygen as if it were an injection of patience. “Talisa called. She said to tell you she’s sorry she missed you. She’s doing fine. Working hard, but she’s having a good time.”
“I just bet she is,” Mary spat. “Did she tell you she’s there with some man? How could she disrespect us like that? What will the women at church think if they find out?”
Herman paused, reflecting back on the brief conversation he’d just shared with his daughter. Her excitement had rung through the telephone lines as she’d told him about the doctor who was also volunteering his time over there. The girl had been overly anxious to share the news with her mother. There had been a hint of disappointment in her voice when he’d had to tell her that Mary wasn’t home, promising to pass her good news on to his wife the minute she came through the door.
He took another deep breath before he spoke. “Talisa’s a good girl, Mary.”
“You’re always sticking up for her.”
“And you always want to think the worst of her.”
“I do not!” the woman screamed, her shouts vibrating around the room. “I just want her to do what’s right.”
Herman stood frozen as Mary seemed to fall apart before his eyes, her strength and spirit breaking into pieces around them. Tears gushed from the woman’s eyes as she sobbed uncontrollably. He reached out to wrap his thick arms around her, pulling the fullness of her against his chest. His own eyes misted ever so slightly.
“It’s okay, Mama. You just miss our baby girl, that’s all. Everything is going to be A-OK.”
Chapter 13
Had she given it half a thought, Talisa could have easily succumbed to exhaustion, but her mind was instead focused on Jericho. Their day had been long, and at moments difficult, and while the others had given in to the calls of slumber that claimed them, she and Jericho were still wide-eyed and awake, lost in the spirals of conversation that had become their nightly ritual.
The duo sat on the concrete floor in Jericho’s office, their legs stuffed into an oversized sleeping bag, their backs resting against two pillows Jericho had snatched off two beds in the clinic.
“My father is white,” Jericho was saying as Talisa shifted her body against his, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “He came from a very privileged, wealthy, Bostonian family.”
“What about your mother?”
“Mom was born in a very small South Carolina town called Garnet. She was the youngest of twelve children. Her parents owned a small farm.”
“How did they meet?”
“College. Mom earned a scholarship to Yale and they became friends her first year there. One day Mom didn’t have money for lunch and Dad bought her a sandwich. Dad says it was love at first sight. Mom says it was empathy that turned into friendship, and then love. They came from very opposite ends of the spectrum and somehow trying to meet each other in the middle, brought them as close together as any two people could imagine being.”
“Your mother’s a beautiful woman,” Talisa said, remembering the woman from the auction. “She carries herself with such grace and dignity that it’s no wonder your father would have been attracted to her.”
“They’re good for each other, but enough about me and my family. Tell me about your folks,” Jericho said, changing the subject.
Talisa sighed. “My mom and dad are like oil and water. No matter how much you shake them up they still go their separate ways when things settle down. My dad drives a bus for the city of Atlanta and Mommy use to teach. She retired years ago but Daddy still works. He says it’s the only thing that will help him stay sane because my mother would drive him crazy otherwise.”
Jericho laughed and the warmth of its sound made Talisa smile.
“Your parents sound like quite a pair.”
Talisa nodded. “My dad is the sweetest man in the world. He’d give you his last penny if he had it to give. Unfortunately, my mother would do whatever she could to keep anyone else from having it.”
There was a hint of bitterness in Talisa’s tone and Jericho noted the look of dejection that washed over her face.
“Sounds like you and your mom don’t get along?”
“We do, most of the time, but my mother’s not always an easy woman to get along with. She loves me though. It’s just that sometimes I think she has no control over her behavior. It’s strange and I don’t know that I can explain it.”
“How old is your mother?”
“Sixty-nine.”
“She had you late in life.”
Talisa nodded again. “And she reminds me regularly.”
“Age can have an impact on our emotional behavior. A change in her diet or maybe even medication can help. You should discuss it with your doctor if you think it’s a problem.”
“That’s what my best friend Leila said.”
“Smart friend.”
Night sounds filtered through the warm evening air as the two fell into an easy moment of silence. Jericho wrapped his arms tightly around her torso, pulling her back against his chest. He liked the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her skin beneath his palms. They fit comfortably together like two matching spoons in a spoon drawer.
Jericho caressed her arms, his hands running a slow race from her wrists to her shoulders and back. The sensation of his touch sent the shimmer of a chill down the length of the young woman’s spine, awakening butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Talisa clasped his hands beneath her own, stalling his exploration.
“Are you all right?” Jericho whispered into her ear, allowing his full lips to brush like a whisper against the line of her flesh. He ran his tongue across the delicate lobe of her ear.
Talisa nodded as Jericho planted a line of moist kisses on her neck. “But I won’t be if you keep that up,” she managed to whisper, the words blowing with the exhale of air that escaped past her lips.
“Keep what up?” Jericho murmured against her skin, his mouth creeping across the palette of her brown flesh.
Talisa giggled as she twisted around to face him. “We need to get some rest, Jericho. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
Jericho hummed incoherently into the soft pocket just beneath her chin, his tongue flitting like a feather across her skin. A stray hand dropped like mist against the outer curve of her breast and Talisa inhaled swiftly, the air catching in her throat. Just before they brushed against the protrusion of nipple that had risen hard against her cotton shirt, Talisa caught his fingers between her own.
“Jericho, if you keep this up we’re not going to be able to stop.”
He smiled, the seductive bend of his mouth piercing straight into her heart. “Would that be a bad thing?” he asked, catching her face between the palms of his hands.
Talisa could feel herself falling into the intensity of his stare, the warmth of it drawing her into its intoxicating cavity. Jericho dropped his mouth against hers, his lips drawing the breath from her body as he kissed her with an intensity that had her body play
ing havoc with her mind. It was mutiny at best as every sensitive region begged to be touched. Talisa could feel her self-control weakening as a volcano threatened to erupt between her thighs.
With the last of her willpower, Talisa pulled away, breaking the connection between their mouths. Her lips were starting to swell from the attention and Talisa pushed the tip of her tongue out to moisten them. Jericho was still staring intently as he pressed his thumb lightly against her mouth, her cheek cradled in the palm of his hand. Their eyes locked for just a brief second, but it seemed to last forever. Leaning his forehead against hers, Jericho closed his blue eyes. He heaved a deep sigh, feeling as if every drop of his blood were pulsating in his groin, the engorged organ crying for relief.
Neither wanted to break the connection, Talisa still leaning against his chest, his arms locked around her body. She closed her own eyes, wallowing in the warmth emanating from his body and within minutes both were fast asleep, each still clinging hungrily to the other.
Jericho woke first, opening his eyes to find a crowd staring down at them. Talisa was still cradled tightly in his arms, her head resting against his chest. The two of them were propped awkwardly in the office corner.
Peter stood just behind his wife, a broad grin spread across his face. Angela’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her head waving from side to side. Amusement was painted across her expression. Reverend Oloya’s gaze shifted from one side of the room to the other, fighting not to focus on anything in particular. Clarissa rounded out the group, the young woman clearly amused by the turn of events.
Angela cleared her throat loudly, which caused Talisa to jump out of her state of sleep. Jericho eased her quick moment of anxiety by brushing his hand against her back.
“I think we overslept,” Jericho said softly, meeting her anxious gaze.
As Talisa looked from one face to another, acute embarrassment washed over her. Blushing profusely, Talisa could feel the wealth of color that flooded her face. “Well, this is a little awkward,” Talisa said, kicking her legs from the sleeping bag. She ran her palms across her thighs, brushing lint from her denim jeans.
In the Light of Love Page 10
