A Love for All Seasons

by Bettye Griffin

  “We’ll have to do it again. Soon.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. Tonight had gone rather well, but she didn’t know about doing it again soon—the key word being soon.

  “Of course,” she said lightly. She felt reasonably certain that he wouldn’t try to pin her down to specifics; he’d been astute enough to give her the option of meeting him. “I gather you’re home.”

  “Yes, I got in about a half hour ago. I worried about you out driving alone. I really do feel bad about not picking you up, Alicia.”

  “It’s all right. When I got here everyone had gone to bed.”

  “Everyone?”

  “My sister and her husband are here, and so is my nephew. They spend weekends here, too.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a house full.”

  “Fortunately, the house is large enough. I think that spending every weekend here is a little trying for both of us, especially my sister because she has a family, but we truly do want to be with Mom.”

  “It’s good that she has two loving daughters. Everyone doesn’t have that luxury.” Jack yawned. “Excuse me.”

  “I know how you feel. I’m a little sleepy myself.”

  “Why don’t we say good night? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “All right. Good night, Jack.”

  “Alicia?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you called. And I hope you’ll think about tonight as you fall asleep.”

  “I’m sure I will,” she said honestly. That now-familiar disconcerting feeling came over her again. She felt a tingling from her chest down to her toes. Time to end the call. She disconnected, drained her glass in one last gulp and stretched lazily with the glass still in her hand. Then she shivered, although the heat kept the house comfortably warm on the chilly autumn night.

  Alicia placed the glass down, but she couldn’t stop trembling. She rushed to her bed, turned it down, and slipped between the sheets, which felt cool to her already chilled skin. She pulled the covers up to her chin and curled into a fetal position, remaining that way until she finally felt warm again.

  She turned off her bedside light. The incident of shivering combined with the late hour had left her drained, and she had no difficulty falling asleep.

  Chapter 11

  I’ve Got A Feeling

  Alicia breezed into her office on Lower Broadway on Monday morning. “Good morning,” she greeted her business partner, Shannon Anderson. Five years ago Shannon had an opportunity to purchase an established court reporting service from the retiring owners, and she came to Alicia for financial assistance. At the time Alicia was laboring as a cost accountant and not liking it very much. She jumped at the chance to join her longtime friend.

  “Hey there. We’ve got—”

  She looked up expectantly, curious to learn the reason Shannon stopped speaking mid-sentence. To her surprise, her friend simply stared at her, a knowing smile on her face. Alicia lowered her chin and demanded, “What?”

  “You met a man. A special one.”

  Instantly she reached inside her handbag and pulled out her compact. She looked at her reflection, half expecting to see a confession written across her face.

  She saw nothing unusual. “Okay, I give up,” she said. “How did you know?”

  “I’m not sure. You just look different to me today. Happy. I’ve waited to see that look on your face for years now.”

  Alicia had to agree with her friend, but she didn’t like the idea of being so transparent. Then again, she and Shannon had known each other since fourth grade at Hurlbutt Elementary School, so Shannon could read her better than most people.

  “I had a date Saturday,” she said lightly.

  Shannon smiled knowingly. “And how.”

  Alicia pointedly cleared her throat. “You were about to tell me something?”

  “Oh, yes. I filled an order for a medical malpractice case Friday afternoon after you left. I assigned it to Frances, but we’re running short on stenographers who know medical terminology. The others are tied up doing depositions. I’m thinking we should get someone in to give them a quick course.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Alicia said thoughtfully. “We’re okay with our technical and financial stenographers, but so many cases are related to medical matters.”

  “That’s my concern, that we’ll have to start turning down orders because we’re short on staff with technical knowledge. I’ll make some inquiries, see how much it’ll run to have an instructor do maybe five hour-long sessions to cover the basics.”

  “Why don’t we see how many contractors would be interested first,” Alicia suggested.

  “All right. I’ll phrase it so that it’s optional but not optional, if you know what I mean.” Shannon smiled at Alicia as she backed her five-foot-nine-inch slim frame toward her office. “I know you don’t want to talk about him, so I won’t pry. But I’d love to hear all about him when you’re ready to share.”

  Jack reached for the receiver of the ringing phone. “Hello?”

  “Guess what?” a female voice half-shrieked. “I’m pregnant!”

  He lowered his chin to his chest and frowned. “Uh…who is this?”

  His response met with another shriek, then a quick word to someone in the background. “Can you believe it? He just asked me who this is.” She dissolved in laughter, and Jack heard the receiver being passed.

  The next voice he heard belonged to a laughing male. “Rhonda just told me what you said. I guess that wasn’t the best way to break it to you.”

  “Oh, man. Pete. I didn’t recognize Rhonda’s voice. She scared the bejeezus out of me.”

  Pete chuckled. “Made you think of that old flame you left behind in Birmingham, huh?”

  “Yeah, the one who flew up in September to break it off with me in person, but not before we, uh….”

  “I get the picture. We just got the news this afternoon. My wife is already driving me nuts. First she gave me the speech about not telling anyone outside of our parents and siblings until she’s through her first trimester, and now she’s calling everybody.”

  Jack didn’t buy the aggravated bit for a minute. The pride with which Pete said, “my wife” suggested he felt nothing but joy and good humor. “I’m happy for you both,” he said. “I know you’ve wanted this for a while now.”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s time to stop living like carefree young marrieds and do that whole settle-down thing. House in the suburbs, minivan, the whole shebang.” Pete paused a beat. “So, how was dinner with Alicia?”

  “It went very well. I took her to Morton’s.”

  “Morton’s, huh? That must have set you back a couple of bills.”

  Jack grinned. “You offering to reimburse me?”

  “Not a chance. I’m about to become a family man with a stay-at-home wife. The best I’ll be able to do is take-out Chinese. But that was an excellent choice for someone like Alicia. Those rich girls from Westport are used to livin’ large.”

  Jack spoke without thinking. “Westport. Is that where she’s from?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No. I got the feeling she was being cagey about where her mother lived, so I suggested she meet me at the restaurant if she felt my picking her up would disrupt the household.”

  “That’s Alicia for you,” Pete said knowingly. “I’ll bet she had you thinking her mother lives in a tiny apartment. The truth is that she’s got a house with something like fifteen rooms. And Long Island Sound is just beyond their back yard.”

  Jack whistled. “Sounds impressive.”

  “Yeah. I was there once, when her sister got married. They had the reception right there on the grounds. Westport probably never saw so many brown faces as it did that day.” He chuckled. “Alicia joked that their family and that musician Nile Rodgers are probably the only black residents of the town. And that’s probably more than you’ll find in Greenwich.”

  Jack was silent. At least Alicia freely admitted that
the house had no shortage of bedrooms, but why had Alicia felt she had to hide her family’s wealth from him? He made no bones about his lower middle class background, but he’d become a director for a pharmaceutical giant, overseeing an annual budget in the millions. Did she think he was some poor little nobody after her for her money?

  “So I gather she didn’t mention much about her personal life,” Pete said gently.

  “Well, she told me about the business she and her friend started.”

  “Yeah, Shannon. Another rich Westport girl. I guess her family should be added to the short list of African-Americans living there. Anyway, that’s what I mean about Alicia, Jack. She’s so charming and so personable that you don’t realize you’re doing all the talking.”

  Jack grew quiet with sudden embarrassment. They’d had such a nice conversation that went on for so long, but now he felt almost duped. Sure, he knew about the interesting work she did—“scoping,” she called it—in her capacity as partner in a court transcription service. She talked a bit about her college days at U. Conn, but that was virtually the only personal information she’d divulged. Instead he’d rambled on about growing up in Docena and his family, plus a few fond memories of his high jinks at Fisk with Pete. Everything else they discussed had been more of a general topic. How could he pat himself on the back at a job well done when she hadn’t even seen fit to even mention the name of the town in which she’d grown up and where her mother still lived?

  His mouth set in a determined line. The next time he asked her out—provided there was a next time—he would insist he pick her up. And if she refused, he’d just cut his losses and move on.

  Chapter 12

  All Those Years Ago

  Alicia whirled around. “How do I look?”

  “You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” Caroline proclaimed, her hands clasped at the level of her chest.

  “Thank you.” Alicia made a playful mini-curtsy. She had dressed casually in jeans, suitable for their plans to see a movie.

  “I want to meet your young man when he comes,” Caroline stated firmly.

  “Mom, don’t you think going downstairs will be a bit much for you?” Daphne said quickly.

  “No, I don’t. That’s why I have a motorized stair climber, so I can go up and down without over-exerting myself. I’ll go downstairs and sit in the living room.”

  “But Mom, it’s late. You’ve been up all day. You really should be getting to bed.” Daphne turned to Alicia, mouthing the words, “Help me!” with panic in her eyes.

  “Daphne, stop over-reacting,” Alicia said with undisguised annoyance. “Going downstairs for a few minutes is hardly the same as going out and dancing until dawn. Mom’ll be safely in bed before nine o’clock.” Sometimes she believed her sister made it a point to disagree with everything she said just to be difficult.

  Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. “You just want her to meet your date.”

  “Yes, I do.” Alicia was eager for her mother’s impressions of Jack. She started to say, “Just like you wanted Mom to meet Todd when you first started seeing him,” but quickly thought better of it. She didn’t want to give the wrong idea, like that she expected, or even hoped, to marry Jack, a man she barely knew. But Caroline’s instincts had always been dead on where she was concerned. No one knew her better. Maybe she could provide some insight on why he affected her the way he did. Her eagerness for her mother to meet Jack outdid any qualms about Daphne getting in the way. Besides, Jack sounded awfully determined when he asked what time he should pick her up. A sixth sense told her that if she told him she’d meet him again, he would withdraw the invitation. This would be the last time she’d see him before he went home to spend Thanksgiving with his family.

  “Well, that’s settled. I’d better get downstairs.” Caroline placed her palms down on the sofa in her sitting area and pushed herself up. “Help me,” she commanded of Daphne, who promptly rose and offered her arm.

  “I’ll answer the door,” Daphne said.

  “Gee, thanks,” Alicia replied dryly. She would have preferred for Martha to get the door, even if it meant her coming over from the guest house over the three-car garage where she lived with her husband and two high school-age children. She felt Martha would be glad to do it, since she’d expressed curiosity about the first man she’d allowed to pick her up at her mother’s home.

  Jack pulled into the driveway of the impressive beige brick two-story house. No, make that mansion. From lights in the back of the house he could catch a glimpse of the dark waters of Long Island Sound. He’d love to see it by the light of day. He’d bet it was fabulous. Certainly far removed from his parents’ modest home in Docena, which started with two bedrooms, with bedrooms and an additional bath added on in rather haphazard fashion over the years as their family grew.

  He rang the doorbell, and after about a minute or so the door opened and he stood face-to-face with a striking young woman whose long reddish-brown hair framed a face highlighted by light blue eyes. This must be the sister Alicia mentioned so off-handedly. “Hello, I’m Jack Devlin, a friend of Alicia’s.”

  “Hi, Jack. I’m Daphne Scott, Alicia’s sister. Please come in.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand.

  “Alicia will be down in a minute,” Daphne said as she closed the door behind them. “I was just sitting with my mother. Come and join us.”

  “Thank you.” He fell into step beside her, forcing himself to look away from the grand winding staircase in the foyer. Not only was this house impressive, such grandeur was a little bit intimidating as well. They went into a living room furnished with red flowered print sofas and matching drapes, solid red easy chairs and red-and-white striped Queen Anne chairs, all with pillows upholstered in one of the opposing prints. The effect was homey, especially with the fire that snapped and crackled in the fireplace, but so coordinated he felt certain a decorator had done it.

  A small gray-haired figure sat upright in one of the Queen Anne chairs, most of her body concealed by a tiger print throw.

  He walked up to her as Daphne performed introductions. “Jack, may I present my mother, Caroline Timberlake. Mom, this is Jack Devlin, Alicia’s date.”

  He held out his hand. “I’m very glad to know you, Mrs. Timberlake.”

  She took his hand in her thin one. Her heart-shaped face had lines around her mouth and under her prominent cheekbones. In spite of ill health, Caroline Timberlake was nonetheless a stunningly beautiful woman.

  He stiffened as an expression he could only describe as shock formed across her face. “Mr…. Mr. Devlin,” she said, making a quick regain of her composure.

  Jack had never seen anyone look at him with that expression before. Mrs. Timberlake, a woman he’d never seen in his life, looked like she recognized him as someone repugnant. He felt like he’d suddenly sprouted a third eye.

  “Welcome to our home,” she said warmly.

  Her demeanor was so friendly, he could hardly believe that just seconds ago she recoiled like he was the Ghost of Christmas Past. “Thank you very much. And please call me Jack.”

  “Please, sit down.”

  He did as instructed, lowering himself into a comfortable-looking easy chair opposite Caroline’s maple rocker. Daphne sat on one of the sofas, a tan leather with a tufted back.

  “Did you have any difficulty locating us, Jack?” Caroline asked. “I know that we can be hard to find, especially being so close to the water.”

  “I’m happy to say I had no problem at all. Alicia provided me with excellent directions.” He paused, not sure if he should elaborate before continuing. “I drove up from Stamford.”

  “Ah, Stamford. I used to live there when Alicia and Daphne were small. We lived in Strawberry Hill.”

  “Yes, I think my real estate agent showed me a condo in that development. Nice place.”

  “Are you from Connecticut, Jack?” Daphne asked.

  “No, I’m from Alabama. I relocated here to accept a job offer.” He r
ealized Alicia’s mother and sister were merely making conversation, but he wished they’d stop asking so many questions. Couldn’t they just talk about the weather?

  “Oh, how quaint.” This from Daphne. He was beginning to understand why there seemed to be no love lost between the sisters. She wouldn’t have made that remark if he’d said he came from a city north of the Mason-Dixon line. Next thing she’d be asking how they managed to drive on dirt roads when it rained.

  The sound of footsteps rushing down the steps quieted them all. “This must be Alicia,” Caroline said expectantly.

  Jack rose when she entered the room. He broke into a smile at the mere sight of her. Even in jeans, a blue chambray collared shirt and a red pullover sweater, she looked gorgeous.

  “Hi, Dev,” she said to him. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

  “I think I could have held off running amuck for another minute or two,” he said with a smile.

  “Well, the movie starts in twenty minutes, so we’d better get going.” She removed her coat from over her arm, and Jack quickly moved behind her to help her into it. He noticed her hair was twisted in a single French braid down the back of her head.

  “Mrs. Timberlake, Daphne, it was a pleasure,” he said politely.

  “Same here, Jack,” Caroline said warmly. No traces remained of her quickly concealed but obvious disconcertment of just a few moments before, but Jack knew he’d never forget her reaction. “Come and see us again.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He placed a hand on Alicia’s elbow.

  She stepped forward to Caroline’s side and bent to kiss her cheek. “Good night, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning. ’Bye, Daphne.”

  “I’ll get the door,” Daphne offered.

  The moment the latch clicked into place Daphne returned to the living room, where Caroline sat staring out the window. “Mom, when you got a good look at Jack you had a look on your face like you’d just seen a poltergeist. What was that all about?”