Louise nodded, her expression betraying that she was impressed with his response. “Thank you, Darius. I’m sure Joseph will want to talk to you when this is all over.”
He smiled. “I look forward to it.”
Eve watched their interaction, amazed. It was the first time her mother hadn’t brashly declared her opposition to someone she was dating. She thought about the repercussions of that.
She sat back, in reflective silence, while Darius made small talk with her mother. Whatever question Mom threw out, he gave an answer, and a good one. Louise couldn’t seem to rattle him, and Eve found that very attractive.
A brunette female doctor, clad in blue scrubs, complete with mask and hairnet, approached them. “Mrs. Franklin?”
“Yes, I’m Louise Franklin.”
“I’m Dr. Tate. I’ve just stepped away from the OR to give you a status update.” She sat in the chair next to Louise, and removed her face mask. “Your husband is in stable condition right now, but it’s very touch and go. Right now there’s no way to tell if we’ll be able to repair all the damage caused by the stroke.”
Tears welled in Eve’s eyes again. “Is my father going to—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.
Dr. Tate replied in a soft voice. “We will do everything we can for him, but right now—we just don’t know.”
Louise brushed away a tear of her own, her voice shaking. “Thank you, Doctor Tate. Please keep us informed.”
Dr. Tate replaced her mask and rose to her feet. “I will.”
And then she disappeared down the corridor.
* * *
He looks so pale, so still.
Eve sat by her father’s bedside, holding his hand. Across from her sat her mother, holding his other hand. Behind Eve’s back, the sun rose over the Queen City, but the dawning of a new day was shrouded by the darkness clouding her heart.
He’d come out of surgery about two hours ago. Though he’d survived, the next twenty-four hours would be critical for him.
As she looked down at the unmoving, drawn face of the man who’d raised her, she brushed away the tears that stained her cheeks. She wasn’t even sure he knew they were there, gathered around his bed.
The shuffling sound of paper shoes on the linoleum floor caught her attention. Raising her gaze, she saw an exhausted looking Dr. Tate entering the room.
Dr. Tate said, “Good morning, ladies. I’m at the end of my shift, and I wanted to look in on you and Mr. Franklin before I left.”
Her mother smiled. “Thank you, Doctor. That’s very considerate.”
Dr. Tate nodded. “Mr. Franklin’s not out of the woods yet. He’s stable now, but by tonight, we should know more.” She pulled the clipboard out of the holder at the foot of the bed, made a few marks. “He may suffer some loss of function. If he comes out of this, he will probably need a full-time nurse.”
Full-time nurse? “What about his habits, his likes and dislikes? Is he still my dad?”
Dr. Tate’s face looked grim as she shook her head. “Maybe. But with a possible loss of speech and motor skills—we’ll have to wait and see.”
Eve slumped down into her seat.
Dr. Tate waved, and left.
She sighed. Sitting here this way, knowing there wasn’t anything she could do, made her feel restless. “Mom, I’m going to the waiting room. Darius is still there.” She rose from her chair.
Her mother nodded, never tearing her eyes away from her dad’s face. Stooping down to kiss her on the cheek, she made her way out of the room.
In the waiting room, she found Darius sitting in the same chair he’d been in earlier. He sipped from a paper cup, watching the news on the television.
As she approached him, he set the cup down on the small side table nearby. “Any news?” he asked.
She shook her head, flopping down into the chair next to Darius.
He took her into his strong arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry you have to go through this, Eve,” he said. “But I’ll be here for you.”
She looked into his dark chocolate eyes, and felt herself falling for him all over again. “What about you? Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m staying.” He kissed her on the cheek.
He. Is. Amazing. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Don’t you know you deserve to be treated this way?”
So she’d missed the memo. Since when did men start getting their act together?
An announcement over the PA system cut her enjoyment short.
“Attention in the ICU. Adult code blue, room 1123, main hospital. Repeat—adult code blue, room 1123, main hospital.”
She sprang from her seat. “That’s Dad’s room! Oh my God!”
She took off at a run, and Darius followed her.
When she got down the corridor, the sounds of doctors shouting and the medical equipment being used filled her ears. Pushing her way past the scrub-clad medical staff to get into the room, she got as close to his bed as she could. She quickly glanced back and found Darius watching from the door.
Her mother’s hysterical screams filled the room. “Joseph! Joseph! Don’t leave me!”
A nurse grabbed her mother by the shoulders and pulled her away from the bed. “We need you to step away and calm down, Mrs. Franklin.”
Her mother persisted. “That’s my husband—take your hands off me! I’ve loved that man for over forty years—Joseph!” Her screams morphed and melted into sobbing.
As she peered over an unknown shoulder, she could see the medical team, trying to revive her father.
“Clear!”
The paddles pressed down on his chest.
A jolt of electricity raised his body off the bed.
Despite the charge, he remained still and pale.
She clamped her hand over her mouth. Panic shot through her like the voltage from the machine they used on her father.
“Daddy!” she yelled, hoping, praying he would hear her and wake up. “Daddy, it’s me, Eve!” Large tears fell from her eyes.
He didn’t respond.
Her mind reeled.
I can’t bear to lose him.
Not now, not like this.
Not before she told him one more time how much she adored him, how much he meant to her.
One doctor, his brow damp with sweat, began performing CPR. As he counted off the chest compressions, she could feel her heart pounding.
After a few minutes, they tried the paddles again.
Her father remained as unmoving as a statue.
The doctor who had performed CPR shook his head. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and eased away.
The other medical staff followed suit, backing away from the bed.
The heart monitor’s monotonous tone filled her ears.
Oh my God.
He’s gone.
A lone voice spoke. “Call it.”
A monotonous response came. “Time of death, 07:32.”
Her mother’s anguished wailing faded.
The faces and lights in the bustling room slowed, then darkened.
Daddy. No. Don’t die.
Please, don’t die...
Strong arms surrounded her, supported her.
All became dark and silent.
Chapter 16
Darius stood by the window, looking out at the dreary Sunday afternoon. Gray clouds filled the sky, blocking the sunlight, as the heavy rain pelted the people rushing into the church from the parking lot.
He wondered where Eve was in that moment. He hadn’t seen her since the day Joseph died. That had been Thursday morning, only three days ago, but it had seemed
much longer. He’d watched her call out her father’s name in that hospital room, saw the pain and helplessness in her eyes. He’d also seen how unstable she’d been on her feet, so when she started to sway and reel, he’d been there to catch her.
Turning away from the scene outside the church, he straightened his tie and flopped down in a chair. Around him sat Rashad, Marco and Ken.
They’d all come to the Mount Glory Baptist Church for Joseph Franklin’s funeral. He wanted, more than anything, to offer something to comfort Eve and her mother, and he could think of nothing better than to pay tribute with their music. When he’d presented the idea to his bandmates, they’d agreed right away. Now, they sat in one of the church’s Sunday school classrooms, waiting for the service to get under way.
He broke the somber silence. “Thanks for doing this for me, guys.”
“No problem.” Marco replaced the reed on his saxophone.
Rashad inclined his head. “We’ve got your back.”
“So, have you seen her yet?” Ken asked.
Solemnly, he sighed. “No. I was there at the hospital with her, but I haven’t seen her since then. She’s taking time off work, of course. When I called her to let her know we wanted to play at the service, she thanked me, but—”
“But what?” Rashad leaned forward.
“She just didn’t sound like herself. I just wish I could fix it, make her feel better somehow.” He shrugged, searching for the words to convey what he felt. “I’ve only known her for a short time, but it hurts me to see her in pain.”
“Uh-oh,” Marco said, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Sounds like you’re falling—”
Rashad cut Marco off. “Don’t say it, man. You’ll jinx him!”
Marco only smiled. “It’s too late for that. Darius is in love.”
A collective groan rose from Darius’s three friends.
“What if I am?” He got up from his seat and went back to his post at the window. “You guys talk like it’s a death sentence.”
“No, man. Love is beautiful.” Marco brushed his dark hair away from his face. “It just means you lose the thrill of the hunt and the joy of conquest.”
Ken, stone-faced as usual, offered a shrug. “That’s only if you’re thrilled by the hunt to begin with. It never did much for me.”
Rashad chuckled. “Shut up, Ken. Nothing gets a rise out of you.”
One of the deacons poked his head into the room. “The choir is here, and we’re ready to help you get set up.”
Rashad stood. “All right, Gents, let’s do this thing right.”
Darius led the way, and they all followed the deacon down the short hallway, and up the stairs to the choir stand. The somber but pleasant faces of the choir members, already seated, greeted them. Their dark blue and white robes bore the embroidered initials MGBC: Mount Glory Baptist Church.
He took his place next to his bass, propped against the piano. Rashad sat down in front of the instrument, testing the tune by striking a few keys.
Ken stepped down a level, to where a drum set waited. Next to him, Marco took his place on a stool, shifting his saxophone on its neck strap.
Darius looked out into the congregation. People filed in, filling the rows. A few early birds were already seated in the pews.
In front of the choir stand, an array of large floral arrangements placed in Joseph’s honor filled the altar with color. Everything about the atmosphere in the church announced that Joseph Franklin had been well loved.
The field of flowers continued down both of the side aisles. Only the center aisle remained clear, so he watched the door there, sitting down on his stool.
Within the next few minutes, the large church filled almost to capacity, but the four rows up front were reserved for the family. Rashad played a selection of hymns as the mourners took their seats.
The somber-faced pallbearers rolled Joseph’s dark blue, gold-trimmed casket down the center aisle and locked the wheels in place once they reached the altar. The funeral director opened the casket, and Darius regarded the well-dressed man lying in repose there. He wished he’d had more time to show his appreciation to the older man, who’d taken a chance on him by hiring him fresh out of college, and letting him into the ivory tower of the FTI empire.
So he vowed to play his music the very best he could, in the hopes that he could offer the family a measure of comfort. Music had been a salve to his spirit during his darkest days, and now he wanted to share a little of that with them, especially Eve. He couldn’t imagine the pain she must be in.
* * *
Eve trembled on Irvin’s arm as she eased away her father’s casket. Irvin’s steady presence, and that of her mother, offered her a small comfort.
With each step, she wondered how she would get through this. What would she do without her dad, the man who shaped her life?
She and her mother took their seats as the service began. The reverend preached a lovely eulogy for her father. But the greatest comfort she felt came courtesy of the Queen City Gents, who soothed her wounded soul with a beautiful rendition of her father’s favorite hymn, “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.” The lilting, soulful sound of the saxophone mixed beautifully with Rashad’s piano music and his well-pitched tenor singing voice. The choir provided melodious backup for his solo.
When the last notes of the song faded, the church filled with thunderous applause and the rhythmic banging of tambourines as the choir began to shout, praising God for her father’s life.
She drew in a deep breath, inhaling the jubilant atmosphere. Now, this is how my daddy would want to be remembered.
As the service ended, Eve, her mother and Irvin moved outside to the family limousine for the ride to the cemetery. The rain had stopped, the clouds began breaking up overhead and the sun peeked through. Irvin helped her mother into the car, then took his seat up front with the driver.
Just as she stepped into the car, a hand touched her shoulder.
She turned around and found herself face-to-face with Darius. He looked incredibly handsome in his tailored dark suit.
“How are you holding up, Eve?” he asked, his voice and his face filled with concern.
“I’ll miss him terribly, but I’ll be fine.” She reached out to gently touch his face. “Thank you so much for providing that lovely music. That was my father’s favorite hymn, and he would have appreciated it.”
Darius nodded. “Your mother told me. And don’t mention it. I hope it offered you some comfort.”
Her eyes burned into his. “It did. And so have you.”
She sat down in the car, and he closed the door. She rolled the tinted window down. “I’ll see you at the graveside?”
“I’ll be there.” He disappeared into the crowd of people spilling out of the church.
Later, at the graveside, she listened to the words the reverend spoke over her father’s grave. She did her best to soothe her mother, but couldn’t break through her inconsolable sorrow. With shaking hands, her mother placed a single white rose atop her father’s casket, and Eve followed suit.
As she and Irvin walked her mother back to the car, Darius walked over.
Eve turned to Irvin. “Will you see her home, and look after her?”
Irvin nodded. “Of course, Ms. Franklin.”
Eve turned her gaze to Darius. “Give me a ride home?”
He offered a small smile. “Of course.”
Extending his hand to her, he guided her away from the grave and down the gravel drive toward his car.
Once inside, she buckled her seat belt, sighing. As they drove away, she cast sorrowful eyes on the black hearse parked by the curb.
She felt as if she were abandoning him, as absurd as it was. It just felt so wrong to be leaving him behind.
She turned his way. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence.
* * *
When Darius pulled the car into the space in front of Eve’s palatial home, he looked around. The last time he’d been there, darkness obscured some of the details. Seeing it now in the late-afternoon sunlight made it even more impressive. The manicured lawn stretched out in front of the house like a golf course, and a blooming wildflower garden adorned the east and west wings. The fountain centering the driveway depicted an angel, pouring water from an urn.
He got out, walking around to the other side of the car, and helped Eve out. She led the way up the steps, then unlocked the door. He followed her inside.
Again, they went to the glass-enclosed sunroom they’d been in Wednesday night. As they sat down on the white sofa, facing the windows, memories of her fiery kisses and her hands blazing the trail down his chest filled his mind. She’d been so hot, so ready, until...
He viewed her red, weary eyes with concern. She was hurting now, and what she needed more than anything was to be comforted. He could tamp down his physical desire for her, because he knew the time wasn’t right.
She eased closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I guess you remember the last time we were in here.”
His eyes slid closed. “Yeah. But we don’t have to talk about that now.”
“Darius—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “No pressure. I’m just here to comfort you, Eve.” He paused, dragging the finger across her satin cheek. “I noticed you didn’t cry very much at the church.”
She stiffened. “Like I said, I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. But right now, you need to stop putting on a brave face.”
She sat up, pulling away from him. “Don’t do this, Darius. My mother is hurting, and she needs me to be strong for her.”
“Eve, she isn’t the only one hurting.” He used a firm, but gentle hand to turn her face to his, and gazed into her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not made of stone. It’s okay to feel.”
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