Gray Hair Don't Care

by Karen Booth

  Donovan took a tight turn, nearly clipping the back corner of a taxi. Lela’s hair swung around over her shoulder. She gasped. And then she laughed, pulling him tighter. A song popped into her head, the same earwormy delight that she’d heard in Bryant Park. You Make My Dreams Come True. It had to be for a reason. Donovan had always been her dream, and now she had him.

  Apparently even Hall & Oates agreed.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Donovan ducked into Echo’s office late on a Friday afternoon. “I’m heading home to get ready.”

  “Got it,” Echo said, wholly distracted by work.

  He stepped closer to her desk. “And you’re confident you can get Lela out of here and back home by seven?”

  “Yes. I’m on it. I’ll drag her kicking and screaming if I have to.”

  “You know how she gets.”

  “Believe me, I know. I’m forcing her to take two more people on her team. With the international expansion on Lela B, she needs all the help she can get.”

  Lela B never quieted down after the initial commotion. It just kept growing like a weed. Once things stabilized ten months in, Echo saw a natural opportunity and put Lela in charge of building up the beauty division of Echo Echo. Lela was working her ass off. Donovan knew what it was like to be in the weeds—there wasn’t even time to ask for help. “Good job. That’s exactly the kind of leadership I like to see.”

  Echo shot him a pointed glance. “Dad. We’re not on a corporate retreat. Whatever you want to call it, I learned it all from you. Don’t act too surprised.”

  “I’m not surprised. Just proud.”

  “Thanks. Now can you go be proud somewhere else?” She smiled warmly to soften the blow of her words. “Sorry. I’m just trying to catch up after getting in late this morning.”

  “Feeling any better?”

  “I am.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’ll see you in a bit.” Donovan headed for the door, but Echo stopped him with her voice.

  “By the way, I think it’s super sweet that you’re doing this for Lela.”

  He turned back. “She won’t let me celebrate her any other way but by ambush.”

  “Then you’re doing the right thing.”

  Donovan hustled down the hall, through reception and to the elevator. As soon as he was out on the street in front of JTI, he hailed a taxi, then called Tammera to let her know he was on his way. “I’m hopping in a cab right now. I should be there in fifteen.”

  “On a Friday? I don’t think so. Subway might be faster.”

  “Too late. I’ve already committed.” He gave the driver the address. “How’s the decorating going?” he asked Tammera.

  “Fine. Except the cats are going nuts with the streamers. Well, not Rio. He mostly licks his crotch and watches the other two make complete fools of themselves.”

  “He’s the elder statesman. That’s his role in our household.”

  Tammera laughed. “Just get your butt over here. We could use your help.”

  “Like I said. On my way.”

  Of course, Tammera ended up being right. Fifteen minutes had been stupidly optimistic. The trip ended up taking nearly thirty.

  When he arrived at the house, it looked as though Tammera and Delia were done with the decorations—colorful twisted streamers dipping and swooping in a zig zag across the living room ceiling. A banner saying, “Congratulations” adorned the fireplace mantle, while clusters of balloons flanked the hearth. That might have been a mistake. They were tethered with narrow curling ribbon and the newest feline additions to the family, Bowie and Oates, were suitably obsessed. He and Lela had adopted them from the animal shelter six months ago. They were nearly full-grown, but still awfully kitten-like.

  “You did an amazing job,” he said to Tammera and Delia.

  “It really compliments the decor,” Delia countered.

  Indeed, since Donovan had moved in last fall, he and Lela had acquired more furniture and some new artwork. Although the shopping and hunting had been a joint effort, everything had to pass muster with Lela, which meant nothing boring. There were pillows in aqua and pink, and dramatic light fixtures, and interesting modern art. The most recent addition to the house was a pair of near-mint vintage mid-century upholstered armchairs, which Donovan had mistakenly referred to as yellow. They’re goldenrod, Lela had said.

  Tammera pointed at Bowie and Oates. “I don’t know how you and Lela get anything done with these two around.”

  Donovan crouched down and Bowie, the gray and white tabby, immediately ran over to him to get head scratches. He was Donovan’s little buddy. “We love them to death, but they definitely keep us on our toes.”

  “Lela doesn’t know about tonight?” Delia asked.

  “I don’t think she has a clue. Although I did ask her a month ago if we could celebrate after Good Day USA brought her on permanently. So maybe I tipped my hand that day? We haven’t talked about it since then, though.”

  “I can’t wait until she gets here,” Tammera said. “She hates surprises.”

  “I know, but I had to do it. That’s why I made it a small celebration,” Donovan added. He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get upstairs and change. Lucius should be here any minute with the food, then Echo will text us when she and Lela are close.”

  “What does Lela think you two are doing this evening?” Delia asked.

  “Dinner with Echo and Lucius. That’s all.”

  “So really, Delia and I are the surprise,” Tammera said proudly.

  Donovan laughed. “Yes, you two and the cake. And the champagne. And the decorations.”

  “I still think we’re the best part.”

  “Somehow, that does not surprise me.” Donovan excused himself and ran upstairs to freshen up. As he stood in the closet, deciding which shirt to wear, he couldn’t help but think about the night he met Tammera and Delia and ended up in Lela’s bedroom after the takeout food disaster. If they’d been alone, he would have kissed her, and it was no big secret where that would have led—right into Lela’s bed. But looking back on it now, he was glad it hadn’t unfolded that way. He and Lela needed to work through a lot before their future opened up.

  Dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, Donovan went downstairs to help with last minute preparations. He realized then that he hadn’t yet seen the cake, which Delia and Tammera had picked up. It was waiting for him in the kitchen, but when he opened the bakery box’s lid, his heart sank. “Tammera,” he called. “Did you and Delia actually look at the cake?”

  She appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I glanced at it. Looked fine.”

  “Congratulations Lola?”

  “Oh, crap. Seriously?” She rushed over and peered inside. “Shit. It does say Lola. Now what?”

  “You’re the chef.”

  “Not a pastry chef. I’m known for high-end comfort food. If you want some celebratory lobster mac and cheese, I’m the person to call.”

  “How do we fix it?”

  “We don’t.”

  “Really?”

  Tammera sighed. “Hand me a butter knife. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Donovan grabbed one from the drawer, but just as she was about to begin surgery, he stopped her. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to make it look worse.”

  “It’s either wrong or it’s imperfect. Your choice.”

  That sounded more like a life lesson than a question about cake, but he had to make a decision. “You’re right. Let’s make it right. Even if it doesn’t look great, Lela will still know it’s for her.”

  “Excellent point.” Tammera very carefully lifted a small portion of the icing that made the “o” then rotated it ninety degrees to make an “e”. She did smudge the frosting underneath a bit, but at least it said Lela now. “Well?”

  “Thank you. It’s imperfectly perfect.” If ever there was a metaphor for his life, that was it.

/>   Lucius walked in a moment later with an armful of Vietnamese takeout, Lela’s favorite. He set it down on the kitchen island, and unlike Donovan, managed to do so without incident. “Heya, Donovan. How long until Echo and Lela get here?”

  Donovan’s phone beeped with a text. Almost there.

  “Any minute now. Let’s get everyone a glass of champagne.”

  “We aren’t hiding and jumping out from behind the couch?” Tammera asked.

  “No. If she’s mad about the surprise, it’ll be easier to hand her a drink and all should be forgiven.”

  “Good thinking,” Lucius said.

  The four of them gathered in the foyer with champagne flutes in hand, and Donovan couldn’t figure out why his heart was beating so fiercely. This was not a big occasion. It was merely what sweet, lovely, hard-working Lela deserved—a little recognition. Maybe he was feeling this way because he knew how much it meant to him. Lela was his whole life now. He wanted everything to be right.

  From outside, Echo’s voice filtered through the door. She was plainly talking many decibels above a normal level. The latch on the lock clicked, the knob turned, and she and Lela stepped inside.

  “Surprise!” Donovan said, followed by an uneven chorus of the same sentiment from Lucius, Tammera, and Delia.

  “What’s all this?” A bashful smile crossed Lela’s face as Donovan handed her the glass of champagne.

  He leaned down to kiss her softly. “We’re finally going to celebrate your big achievements over the last year.”

  “You really didn’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, shush. Just take the love we all want to give you.” Tammera wrapped Lela up in a big hug.

  “Congrats on everything, Lela,” Delia said.

  Lucius and Echo got in on it last, with more embraces and well-wishes. That was when Donovan noticed that Lucius had not brought Echo a drink. “Echo, let me get you a glass of champagne.”

  “Dad. No.” Echo looked at Donovan, then her gaze found Lucius and a smile bloomed on her face.

  “What’s going on?” Donovan asked.

  “Oh, my God.” Lela clasped her hand over her mouth.

  It gradually dawned on Donovan, like he was a step slow. His eyes welled with tears. “Are you?” he asked Echo.

  She nodded and pressed her lips together tightly, also trying not to cry. “This wasn’t really the way I wanted it to come out. But I guess I should’ve been smart enough to figure out that you’d serve alcohol and I’d have to decline because of the baby.”

  The baby. Donovan pulled his daughter against his chest and squeezed her tight. He was a mess of emotion, an overflowing well of happiness and hope. His baby was having a baby. “How far along are you?”

  “I just passed twelve weeks. I’m due late April.”

  “Your grandmother and Stuart are going to be so excited to hear this news. And your Uncle Austin, too. Does your mom know?”

  “I called her this morning. After I spent an hour being sick.”

  “That’s why you were late.”

  She reared her head back and arched both eyebrows at him. “That’s why I was late.”

  “Wow.” Donovan slowly let go of Echo, still a bit stupefied, and watched as she and Lela shared their own tender moment. They grinned and chattered away, both wiping away tears. Delia and Tammera patiently waited for their chance to congratulate Echo, too.

  Lela turned to Donovan. “Pretty amazing.” She snaked her arm around his waist and leaned into him. “Somebody’s going to be a grandpa,” she sang.

  A grandpa? Whoa. “I suppose I am.”

  “So what’s the plan for tonight?” Lela asked.

  “We got takeout, Tammera and Delia decorated the living room, and there’s cake. I kept it simple. I knew you wouldn’t want a big thing.”

  “So you threw a small thing instead.”

  “I might be pretty good at listening, but I’m not great at always following orders.”

  She planted her chin on his chest and peered up at him. “That’s why I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Now let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

  Donovan and Lucius went to the kitchen while the other four took a seat at the dining table, which Delia and Tammera had artfully set. The two guys ferried in lemongrass pork with rice vermicelli, fresh spring rolls with shrimp and cellophane noodles, and big bowls of pho with fragrant broth and the many fresh accompaniments. Donovan put on some music, a playlist of Lela’s favorites. When Save a Prayer by Duran Duran came on, she pressed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes. “I love this song so much. It will never, ever get old.”

  All Donovan could think was that it would never get old to make her happy. To see her smile.

  The conversation was brisk and lively as they skipped from topic to topic. Work came up a lot, of course. This was a workaholic crowd if ever there’d been one. Lucius had landed a publishing contract for his first novel and finally had a release date to share. He was also set to start teaching a writing class in the fall. Tammera’s career was regularly blowing up in a good way, with a new line of kitchen appliances, a second show, and more cookbooks on the way.

  Delia insisted her job was just the same old, same old. “But Echo and Lucius, I’d love to be considered to be your pediatrician.”

  “She’s an excellent doctor,” Donovan said. “The one time I had to see her, she took very good care of me.”

  Lela cast a knowing smile at Donovan. “Thank goodness we don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Yep. Clean bill of health.”

  After the dinner plates were cleared away, Tammera popped the cork on another bottle of champagne and Donovan hunted down some seltzer so Echo could toast as well. He then put a single candle on the cake and walked it into the living room to present it to Lela.

  “It’s so pretty. Thank you,” she said as he set it down before her. If she’d noticed the altered icing, she didn’t let on.

  “Make a wish,” Donovan said.

  “Are you sure? It’s not my birthday.”

  “I still think you’re entitled.”

  She smiled that stunning Lela smile, pursed her lips and blew out the candle. Everyone clapped and cheered. Donovan felt like his mission had mostly been accomplished when Delia started cutting and serving the cake.

  “I’d like to propose a toast. Actually, several toasts. So bear with me.” He raised his glass and cleared his throat. “First off, we have to acknowledge how amazing it is to have a gathering of family and loved ones like this. I love you all.”

  “Hear, hear,” everyone said.

  “And to my daughter and son-in-law and the baby on the way. It’s going to take me a while to wrap my head around the idea of being a grandfather, but I can’t wait for this next chapter.”

  “Hear, hear,” they chorused.

  “And lastly, to Lela, the love of my life. You are more than an amazing woman, you are a force of nature. Thank you for waiting thirty years for the stars to align.” Their gazes connected, and he heard Lela’s voice first. “Hear, hear.”

  He downed the last of his champagne, poured another glass, and gladly dug in to his cake. As they dispatched the final bottle of bubbly, the festivities naturally began to wind down. Lucius helped Donovan clean up the kitchen while Tammera, Delia, Echo, and Lela stole a few more minutes of conversation.

  Tammera and Delia were the first out the door. “Goodnight, all. Have a good weekend.”

  “Goodnight, Dad. Lela. Love you.” Echo hugged them both.

  Lucius, not much of a hugger, even accepted an embrace before they were on their way.

  “Thank you for tonight. It was magical,” Lela said as Donovan flipped the deadbolt.

  “You’re not mad that I forced you to celebrate your accomplishments?”

  “No. Not at all. I loved having our little family together. It was awesome.”

  He drew in a deep breath through his nose. “I still can’t believe Echo is going to have a
baby. It’s so amazing.”

  “I know. It’s so exciting.” She planted a finger in the center of his chest. “You are going to be a grandpa.”

  “How weird is that?”

  “It’s not weird at all, really. It’s life. I do think the timing with your gray coming in couldn’t be any more perfect.” She ruffled his hair. “It makes you more grandpa-like. So distinguished.”

  “Why is my gray distinguished but you get to be sexy?”

  Lela shrugged. “I don’t set the standards of beauty. I’m just telling you how it is.” A clever smirk crossed her lips. Surely she took great satisfaction in throwing his own words back at him, however poorly thought out they’d been when he’d first delivered them.

  From the living room, the opening strains of If You Were Here by The Thompson Twins played.

  “I love this song,” he said.

  “You do? It’s not too poppy for you?”

  He shook his head, grabbed her hand and pulled her into the other room so they could hear better. “No. It’s romantic.” He tugged her into his arms, and they swayed back and forth to the music. Lela settled the side of her head against his chest, and he threaded his fingers through her silky hair, thinking about everything she meant to him and how his life had become so much fuller with her. “What if we got married?”

  Lela lifted her head and slid him a look born of pure, unadulterated suspicion. “You. Want to get married.”

  “Fourth time’s a charm?”

  She laughed and smoothed her hand over his chest as their dance continued in a gentle sway. Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, her touch never failed to remind him how alive he felt when he was with her. “I love you, but do we really want to deal with a wedding?”