Sterling was out like a light.
And in his dreams, he kept seeing images of Alyssa’s smiling face on the television screen. “Do you have anyone special in your life?” the hostess asked again.
“Yes, I’m seeing this really great guy that I’ve known most of my life—Sterling Hinton.” Alyssa answered. She kissed her fingers and then blew a kiss to the camera. I love you, baby.”
Sterling smiled and shuffled under the blanket. There was something ringing somewhere and he grew irritated that the television hostess wouldn’t stop to answer it.
The ringing grew louder and louder. Finally it sank into his head that the ringing wasn’t a part of the dream. It was the phone.
Groaning and wrestling his way out from his warm cocoon, he wrenched the phone off the hook. “What?”
“Bro,” Quentin shouted. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You sound awful.”
“I’m sick.”
“Still?”
“Go away and call me later,” he ordered grumpily.
“I can’t. I’m at the gate. Did you change the code or something?”
“Yeah,” he lied. Quentin rarely committed anything to memory. “I’m trying to keep freeloaders out.”
“You’re a regular Chris Rock. Now buzz me in. It’s cold out here.”
Why couldn’t everybody just leave him alone?
“Hello? You still there?” Quentin asked.
“All right. All right.” Sterling punched in the code and then slammed the phone down. Lord, save him from concerned family members. In a snap, he was asleep again. But five minutes later, his brother was standing over him and pushing up his eyelid.
“Yo, man. Wake up.”
Sterling slapped his hand away. “Money’s in wallet. Go away.”
“I didn’t come to hit you up…but if you’re offering.”
Sterling groaned.
“Man, what’s that burning my nose hairs?” He picked up a jar. “Vicks? What are you, twelve?”
“Did you miss the part when I said I was sick?”
Quentin plopped down on the bed, narrowly missing Sterling’s legs. “That’s just it. I can’t remember you ever being sick.” He slapped a hand across Sterling’s forehead. “You feel all right to me.”
“Is there something you want?” Sterling shoved his hand away. “I’d like to go back to dying here in peace, if you don’t mind.” He started coughing and the next thing he knew, he was hacking and his entire chest started hurting.
“Easy there. Easy. Don’t die on me.”
“What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” Quentin responded in an upbeat voice. “You’ll never guess who I saw on television today.”
Sterling didn’t know nor did he care.
“C’mon, guess.”
“I don’t know, Q. Goooo away.”
Quentin bounced on the bed. “Guess.”
Clearly he wasn’t going to get any rest until he played this game. “All right. Dad was on TV.”
“Would I be excited about seeing Dad? You know he hasn’t spoken to me since the divorce.”
“Mom,” Sterling tried again.
“Nope.”
“I give up.”
“Think of a beautiful enchantress that’s splashed over every magazine cover.”
Sterling’s eyes opened. He knew, but didn’t answer.
“Alice Jansen,” Quentin proudly announced.
“Her name is Alyssa.”
“She may be Alyssa to you, but she’ll always be my Alice.”
Sterling rolled his eyes and then grabbed a pillow and plopped it over his head. The last thing he wanted to hear was Q pining about what could have been with Alyssa.
“Alice was on this talk show earlier,” Q continued, snatching the pillow from his brother’s head. “My God, bro. You should have seen her. I swear she gets more beautiful every time I see her. I should’ve pursued her when I had a chance. Instead I let you and Dad bully me into marrying Lizzie.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Whatever.”
“And I didn’t bully you into marrying Elizabeth. You agreed to that all on your own.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Alice was the one I should have married. I just can’t get her out of my mind.”
Sterling finally pushed himself up. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“It’s true and you know it’s true. She’s the one.”
“And she makes enough money to support both of you.”
Quentin’s shoulders deflated. “You cut me deep, bro. You cut me deep.”
“I’m going back to sleep.” He dived back under the covers and hoped his brother would pick up the hint.
He didn’t. Q snatched back the covers. “I was hoping that you could help me.”
Sterling groaned.
“I know you’ve kept up with Alfred since he left Dad’s employ—maybe even Alice.”
“No.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
“Fine. I’m being mean. Now go away.”
“Sterling.”
Sterling sat up. “Do you think I’m actually going to feed Alfred’s daughter to you? The longest relationship you have ever had was your six-month marriage. The answer is not just no, but oh-hell-no!”
“Sterling—”
“I’m sick, but I’m not crazy.”
Quentin looked genuinely hurt. “Whatever happened to blood being thicker than water?”
“Q, forget about Alyssa Jansen. You’re not programmed for monogamy. Besides, she said that she’s seeing someone.”
“How did you—did you see the show?”
Sterling sighed. He’d said too much.
Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I’ve always been suspicious of what happened that night between you two in the solarium.”
Sterling blinked. “Are you for real?”
Q crossed his arms.
“Okay, now I know that you’re crazy, though all evidence pointing to that conclusion occurred some time ago. Alyssa is like…an adopted sister or a cousin. She grew up around us.”
“All right. Fine. I’ll find her without your help.” He stood up and reached for his brother’s wallet on the nightstand. “And since you offered…”
Sterling shook his head.
“Xavier and I are going skiing this weekend. As soon as I get back, I’m hot on Alice’s trail. Trust me, I’m going to find her, and when I do, I’m making her the next Mrs. Hinton.”
Chapter 15
This Christmas Alfred was determined to win the Christmas nativity and decorations competition in his subdivision. He’d already invested a fortune in Christmas lights. This past fall, he made mountains of sketches of exactly what he wanted to pull off. This year his baby, Jessica, was finally old enough to appreciate the wonders of Santa Claus and Christmas presents and glowing lights.
Alyssa used to love the holidays, too. He was glad that his older daughter still made time in her busy schedule to fly to Atlanta so that they could all be one big, happy family. He’d been married a few years now and the whole family life suited him well again.
“Now you be careful up there,” Estelle warned, watching him crawl across the roof.
“I’m always careful, dear,” he said, smiling. Alfred had to admit that it felt good to have someone worry about him like this, just as it felt good to be able to love and cherish again. Forgive me, Melissa.
Most days, Alfred had to pinch himself. His cooking show was a great success. He was in syndication in twenty-five major cities. His third cookbook was steadily climbing up the best seller’s list on the NY Times and he now was in talks about developing his own cookware. Everything was going great, though Estelle often complained that he worked too much.
Maybe he did. But he had so much he wanted to do and accomplish. It wasn’t because he regretted all those years working at the Hinton estate
, because he didn’t. But now was his time. And the one person that truly inspired him was his own daughter Alyssa.
“Well I’m going inside to make you some hot cider,” Estelle said. “You’re going to be freezing when you get finished.”
“All right, dear.”
“Don’t stay out here too long. It’s supposed to freeze tonight.”
“Yes, dear.” Alfred smiled and continued on with his sketches and staple gun.
A strong gust of wind blew from the east, numbing Alfred’s fingers and nose. Suddenly a strange tingling shot up his arm, and then the tingling began to hurt. He dropped the staple gun.
“Oh God.” Pain exploded in his chest and Alfred lost his footing. He fell and then rolled off the roof.
Alyssa hopped the first flight out of LAX to Atlanta. The entire time, her stomach was tied into a tight knot.
She felt weak.
She felt hot.
She felt panicked.
A heart attack, her stepmother had said. How could such a thing be possible? Her father had to be one of the strongest people she knew. She couldn’t imagine such a thing befalling him. It just couldn’t be, she kept saying to herself, but it wasn’t working.
Alyssa’s heart sank like a stone.
“It’s going to be all right,” Tangie whispered, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight. “You’ll see. He’ll come through this.”
Alyssa tried to smile, but she couldn’t.
A few people swiveled in their chairs to stare at her. There was a celebrity in their midst.
She reached into her purse and retrieved her large sunglasses, hoping to hide from the onlookers. Even that wasn’t working.
C’mon. C’mon, she mentally urged the plane to hurry. She had to get to her father. Surely once she reached his side everything would be all right.
Just hang in there, Daddy.
The five-hour flight seemed more like twenty. She felt like weeping when the plane’s wheels finally touched down. Alyssa and Tangela rushed through the terminals and hopped on the concourse to the rental car line. The aggravating part was when they had finally reached Grady Hospital and the nurses couldn’t find what room her father was in. For the first time in her life, Alyssa threw a major temper tantrum, and Estelle appeared and rescued the poor medical staff.
“It’s okay. She’s with me.” Estelle took her by the hand and led her to her father’s room.
Despite what she thought, Alyssa was totally unprepared to see a shell of her father nestled in a bed of white sheets. In fact, it took a few heartbeats before she even recognized him. There were tubes in his mouth and arms. There were bruises on his face and his dark coloring looked more gray than black.
And he looked so incredibly weak.
“Oh, Daddy.” Alyssa rushed to the bed, but was careful not to disturb the butterfly needle in his hand. “My God. What happened to you?”
A monitor beeped steadily nearby. She glanced at it and tried to make sense of the lines and numbers.
Tangie pulled a chair up to the bed for her.
“I came as fast as I could, Dad. Now you start trying to get better.”
Estelle sobbed in the corner, but Alyssa couldn’t spare her a glance.
Alyssa gently laced her fingers in between her father’s and tried to mentally will him to open his eyes. However, the only sound in the room was the steady beep of the heart monitor and the soft whirl of the air conditioner.
It was sad.
It was pathetic.
But right now—it was enough for her. Now that she was here, she was certain her father would pull through. He just had to. She lifted his hand and placed it against her cheek. It was cold and almost lifeless. Tears streamed steadily down her face while her emotions continued to clog her throat.
The long hours turned into troubling days. The numbers and constant news from the doctors became more grave.
On the third day, Alfred’s heartbeat flatlined.
Sterling was shocked when he got the news. And he wasn’t the only one. Roger Hinton was more than a little choked up when he delivered the news. Alfred Jansen had been more than a great employee to the Hintons. He was a great man…and friend. After his father relayed the time and date for the funeral, Sterling promised that he would be there despite his lingering cold.
When Sterling ended the call, his thoughts instantly traveled to Alyssa. How was she handling the news? Something told him not too well. His heart went out to her.
Two days later, Sterling sat in a crowded pew of the Atlanta Baptist Church. Despite the singing and the moving sermon from the reverend, the mood remained somber. One by one, people stood and shared stories of a man as big as a lion but with the heart of a kitten.
In the front, Alyssa, dressed in black, listened to the stories with a soft smile but with tears sliding down her face. Even then she was a remarkable beauty that drew everyone’s eye.
Estelle, however, was a wreck.
When the reverend asked if anyone else wanted to speak, Sterling stood and walked solemnly down the aisle. At the podium, he looked out among the large crowd and felt his throat tighten with emotion. Luckily, he’d written down everything he’d wanted to say because at that moment his mind was a blank.
Standing there with an escalating fever, Sterling struggled to keep his voice level. He recalled how he knew Alfred and shared a few personal stories. Many were humorous and some downright touching. “Alfred was a great man,” he proclaimed and then looked at Alyssa, “and a great friend. I will miss him dearly.”
He stepped down from the podium and headed back to his seat. As he started past Alyssa’s pew, she reached out for his hand and stopped him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Sterling met her watery gaze and his heart tugged again. He gave her a slight nod and then returned to his seat in time to hear his father.
An hour later, everyone had gathered at the fresh grave site to say their goodbyes. Light snow flurries whipped around the crowd, while the blustering wind turned arctic. The mourners huddled together and watched as the black casket descended into the earth.
Estelle slumped against Alyssa, who looked no better prepared for the added weight than a pile of toothpicks.
Sterling walked over to them and took Estelle by the hand. She looked up at him and then transferred her weight to his strong shoulders.
Alyssa’s grateful gaze landed on him. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
Again, he just nodded and continued listening to the burial rites.
As the family walked to the waiting limos, Sterling continued offering Estelle his shoulder while Alyssa carried her younger sister on her hip.
“Thank you again,” Alyssa said, once her small family settled into their seat. She stood outside by her open door, looking as frail as she had that night in the solarium.
“Anytime,” he said. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m not sure. I’m still hoping my alarm clock is going to go off, and all of this is just some horrible dream.”
His shoulders deflated. “I’m sorry.” He opened his arms and without hesitating, she slid into them. As he folded his arms around her, he swore there was something like a click inside his head and the world suddenly faded away. He kissed the top of her head. “Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head and then slowly eased out of his arms. “No. I think I’ll be all right.”
Sterling reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. “If you change your mind, give me a call. Anytime.”
“Thanks. I just might take you up on that.”
Chapter 16
For the next two days, Alyssa and Estelle did their best to console each other. But after going through a record number of Kleenex boxes, they began to question whether they were comforting each other or prolonging their grief. They moved like ghosts around each other with long faces and puffy red eyes.
The hardest part for both of them was to listen to little Jessica constantl
y ask when her daddy was going to be finished with his nap. There was a sad irony that didn’t escape Alyssa. She’d lost her mother when she was only four and here Jessica had lost her father at almost the same age.
Life could be cruel.
It broke her heart to know that there was the possibility that Jessica would only remember her father through pictures and stories from her older sister. More tears welled in Alyssa’s eyes as she reached for another tissue.
The box was empty.
“Would you like for me to fix you something else to eat?” Estelle asked, leaning against the living room archway. “Ms. Loretta brought over enough food to feed a whole army.”
“No.” She said, shaking her head and pulling out yet another family photo album. “I’m fine.”
Estelle simply nodded and drifted off to another part of the house.
Alyssa sighed. Even though her stepmother had done everything she could to make her feel welcome, there was a part of her that believed Estelle wanted time alone so that she could truly grieve. But Alyssa struggled to give her that time because she needed the opposite.
She needed to be around anything and everything that reminded her of her father. Now more than ever, she regretted telling Tangie to go back home. She needed a firm shoulder to lean on. Estelle was too fragile.
Curling up in her father’s favorite La-Z-Boy, she pored through the pages of the photo album. This one had a lot of pictures of the Hinton family. There were several pictures of her father and Roger Hinton bent over a chessboard.
Suddenly old memories filled her head. The men would spend weeks playing the same game. One had even gone as long as a year. She didn’t remember who won most of them, but she suspected that it was something like fifty-fifty.
Her father always said that you could tell a lot about a man by the way he played chess. The one thing he’d learned from Roger was that he was a man who never said die.
Alyssa chuckled to herself and flipped the page. She blinked, surprised to see images of her father on a large boat. She leaned in close and tried to make out the name on the side. “Lady?”
She frowned. Her father didn’t own a boat. Maybe it belonged to Roger. She shrugged and flipped the page again only to learn that the boat apparently belonged to Sterling Hinton.
Love Takes Time Page 11
