Scarlett Bride (The Scarletts

by Brenda Barrett

  This was his out; he could argue with his mother that her prejudices and misinformation about Africa were showing again but he didn't want her to remember the sex question she asked earlier. If he was honest with himself, that question was increasingly ricocheting around in his head. He was doing his best to ignore it.

  "Well then, it's settled," Honey said, a satisfied tone to her voice. That's when Oliver realized that he had missed most of what she had said since the question.

  "What's settled?" he asked gruffly.

  "I keep your... er... wife until her... er... married friend gets back."

  "Mom," Oliver rolled his eyes, "you don't have to let your displeasure about the situation be so obvious. And before we settle anything, we talk to Ashaki; it's her future."

  "Hmmph." Honey grunted. "You go have your shower. I'll go and check on Ashaki. I actually like that name...Ashaki. I will like her even more if she is not living with you in Jamaica."

  Oliver smiled. "You are so transparent. And I'll ask her if this is what she wants to do."

  Honey looked at him innocently. "Of course I wouldn't want to usurp your husbandly role…"

  She headed for the door and then mused. "Ashaki's so thin and tall. I don't think I have anything that can fit her properly."

  ****

  Ashaki hardly saw Oliver in their first couple of days in the States; his mother Honey monopolized most of her first week with shopping and sightseeing. Sometimes she felt as if Honey treated her like she was dumb. She explained everything and did so very slowly, as if being from the Congo made her stupid.

  But she was getting used to Honey's jerky manner. Honey was acting like one who didn't quite know what to do with a snake in a hut. Should you circle it slowly and look at it or cut it in two before it struck?

  She was the snake in Honey's hut, but hut was a very inadequate word to describe any dwelling in America she had seen so far. She went to a place called Pizza Hut to eat and it looked nothing like any hut she had ever seen. The flat breads which they called pizzas were very good too. She could eat them all day.

  She was quickly adjusting. After the first few days of seeing tall buildings and traffic and people busy going about their daily lives, it became less jarring. She felt a sense of freedom being in the anonymous New York City. She felt as if she could dance on the sidewalk in joy, and no one would care or point her out as being crazy.

  Oliver said that they would spend three weeks in America before he headed home. He spoke on the phone to various people quite a bit and he did a lot of sleeping.

  "Catching up," he would mumble before taking one of his power naps. Honey would use one of his power naps as an excuse to take her shopping in the city. She had no idea how Honey knew where to take her for clothes shopping. She seemed to know all the right places to go.

  But she quickly found that they had very different taste in clothes. Which was pretty odd, because Honey dressed in fresh bright looks, fitted dresses that emphasized her lovely shape and casual clothes in solid hues that matched her accessories but spent most of her time insisting that Ashaki buy floral, frumpy pieces that were a size too big.

  The first day when they entered a store she even overheard Honey telling the shop assistant that she was coming out of the jungles of Africa and was her son's charity case.

  That had hurt so badly that she had gone along with Honey's wardrobe choices for her that day without saying anything. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, but the second day when they were at breakfast and Oliver asked her in his usual friendly, offhand manner if she enjoyed shopping with his Mom, she had looked at him in frozen indecision.

  Should she tell him the truth or keep her mouth shut? After all she was a charity case, but a charity case that still wanted to look pretty.

  "I hated it," she whispered. Honey had not come into the kitchen yet. When she was there they didn't usually have the chance to speak. She had to say what she had to say quickly.

  Oliver made a face. "Why?"

  "She makes me try on these clothes that are too big and florally." She slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry, I know that I am not supposed to complain."

  Oliver chuckled. "Florally?"

  "Yes." Ashaki grinned. "Lots of flowers, florally... I don't know if it's an English word."

  "Is it even a French word?" Oliver smiled. He was looking relaxed today and more playful. "Or Swahili? Or Lingala?"

  Ashaki shook her head. "I don't know but the clothes I have are flowery, florally and big."

  Oliver wiped his hands on a napkin. "Tell you what, we'll return them. You and I can go shopping and then we take in a play on Broadway and hang out in Times Square for a bit."

  "Are you serious?" Ashaki squealed.

  "I am." Oliver grinned, "and that's just today. Tomorrow we can check out Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, next day Bronx Zoo, Chinatown--the works... We'll be tourists for the next couple of days. Cool?"

  "Yes!" Ashaki could hardly contain her excitement.

  "What's going on?" Honey came into the kitchen, frowning.

  Oliver looked at his watch. "Nothing much. I am feeling awake and refreshed and recovered from jetlag, so I will be taking Ashaki off your hands."

  "But..." Honey sputtered, "Ashaki and I were having fun."

  Ashaki sat very still and tried to have a neutral expression. If Honey's idea of fun was talking to her like she was a toddler and dragging her through one thrift shop after the other, then she seriously needed a life.

  Oliver changed the subject smoothly. "Tell me about Luke Willis, that doctor guy who had his eye on you at the hospital."

  Honey looked from him to Ashaki and then reluctantly allowed the change of subject.

  "He wants us to get serious. You weren't around and I was feeling broody. He noticed and invited me out. That was a year ago. Now he is talking marriage and all of that jazz."

  "Say what?" Oliver looked excited. "Good."

  "Not good," Honey said, grabbing a pack of cereal. "I can't marry him; I have you to look after."

  Oliver laughed. "Mom, I am an adult and I know that doesn't mean anything much to you but I don't even live here anymore. You have your own life; you are not going to make this about me. Admit it, you are afraid to commit, aren't you?"

  "No," Honey said, chewing a handful of cereal. "Yes, I guess. I shouldn't be talking about this around her."

  She pointed at Ashaki.

  Oliver smiled. "Why not? Ashaki is now your family; she's my wife."

  Ashaki felt a warmth spread from her head to her toes on hearing that.

  Honey almost choked on the cereal. Oliver had to go over to her and pat her back and then offered her a glass of water, which Honey gulped down almost immediately, slapping the glass on the counter.

  "Feeling better now?" Oliver asked after she stopped heaving.

  "Yes," Honey gasped out.

  "Good." Oliver kissed her on the forehead. "Love you. I won't be around all day. Ashaki and I will be out. We'll have dinner out too."

  "But..." Honey looked at Ashaki with swimming eyes. She blinked away the tears and put her hands akimbo. "Did you tell her that she will be staying here with me till her married friend gets back?"

  "No," Oliver said gently. He looked at Ashaki and grinned. "Change of plans--she is coming to Jamaica with me."

  ****

  It was not where you were but who you are with; that was abundantly clear to Ashaki in the following days, as she had the time of her life with Oliver. He was fun and entertaining and handsome and after one more quip that made her laugh out loud in the middle of Grand Central Station, it was confirmed: she more than liked Oliver Scarlett. He made her feel hopeful and loved, and he encouraged her to be her own person.

  She was growing to love him. And it was scary because they were only supposed to be temporarily together and he was just being friendly, trying to show her the best of New York and allowing her to shop like there was no tomorrow. She had more clothes now than all the women in Kidogo
put together, or at least that's what it felt like, and she had a preference for pants—they were freeing. She had several pairs in so many colors.

  They took the ferry to Ellis Island. Oliver insisted on taking photos of her and she posed for him, making funny faces and laughing when he laughed at her.

  The tour guide at Ellis Island Immigration Museum was pleasant. She started out her tour with what was probably a well-rehearsed speech. "How far would you travel to find a better life?"

  Far. Ashaki almost answered. From Kidogo in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

  Oliver clasped her hand in his and squeezed.

  It was a good thing she didn't answer. It was a rhetorical question. The tour guide continued speaking.

  "That's why I brought you here," he whispered while the tour guide walked them to the entrance of the museum and the great hall. "Many people have traveled far for a better life—you are not alone. You are never to feel as if you are."

  She nodded, feeling curiously lightheaded with his hands firmly glued to hers. They had not had much physical contact in the last couple of days. This hand holding was having a curious effect on her.

  And she almost released a giggle when the tour guide, who was pointing to the hospital across the water, started speaking about where immigrants who were not medically fit would be treated. Before they could be allowed entry, dreaded contagious diseases like measles, diphtheria and scarlet fever were treated on Island three.

  Oliver glanced at her just then and she covered her mouth with her free hand.

  "What?" He was frowning at her.

  "She said scarlet fever is a contagious disease."

  Oliver still hadn't gotten the joke. He was looking at her quizzically.

  "I think I have it," she blurted out.

  Oliver looked into her eyes, suddenly alert and serious. He was in doctor mode. "Why'd you say that? What are your symptoms?"

  "Trembling sensation when you hold my hands, a bit feverish when you are so close."

  He finally got it and grinned, pulling her closer to him and holding her other hand. The group had left them behind and was heading to the great hall. He looked at her quite intently while she struggled to catch her breath. Would he kiss her? He certainly seemed as if he wanted to.

  She could actually hear his heart beating through his shirt, or was that hers?

  There was a whooshing sound in her ear as if she had gotten up too quickly and was off balance.

  "Let's go with the others." He released her hands, slowly, reluctantly, and then stepped away, still looking at her with that high intensity.

  "What about my fever?" Ashaki asked, putting some humor back into the situation to diffuse the tension.

  Oliver smiled. "Honey for two days should cure it."

  "Ha." Ashaki shuddered. "Just the thought of her and I think I am cured of my scarlet fever."

  "That's the spirit," Oliver said bleakly. "And there is also the David factor, don't forget."

  "Yes," Ashaki said, turning away from him. "Yes, there is that."

  How could she forget? Oliver was just being nice to her for David's sake. She had to try to remember David Wheeler's face because for the life of her she had forgotten all about him.

  Chapter Six

  Oliver was feeling restless. He tossed and turned in the bed and finally gave up. He got up and turned on the light. He had on track suit bottoms. Nobody would be up at this hour. He headed for the kitchen.

  The clock on the wall said ten minutes after twelve. It was the day before they would leave for Jamaica. His mother had done her last pleading with him not to take Ashaki.

  "You are going to fall in love with that girl," Honey had warned. "Don't deny it. I am old enough to know exactly how this situation is going to play out."

  The warning was still replaying in his mind like a particularly bad song. He didn't want to, couldn't entertain the thought.

  He poured some of his mother's kefir milk into a glass and silently headed for the living room and turned on the television, turning the volume low. Anything would do for him to drown out thoughts of Ashaki. It was incredible how the mind worked. The thing that you most wanted to forget was the very thing that kept whirling around in your subconscious if you gave it even a toehold.

  So now he was hoping not to think about Ashaki but here he was.

  Her smile. Her eyes. The way she teased him and then laughed lightly. Her laugh was intoxicating. It pulled you in, forced you to participate.

  Last week when she had told him that she had scarlet fever, he had almost kissed her. The thought had occurred to him that she was his wife. Legally his. And he was legally hers.

  What had stopped him?

  The fact that he had promised David and the fact that she was just eighteen and might be operating under the guise of gratitude. Right now he was acting like a sugar daddy. He granted all her wishes. To kiss her would start something that probably did not have the right motives. She was so effortlessly attractive and sweet, and he would be lying if he didn't admit that he was thinking along the lines of this being somewhere near perfect.

  "Good Lord, I am going crazy." He ran his fingers through his overlong hair and pulled at his scalp.

  He almost jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, Ashaki was staring at him in concern.

  "You okay, Oliver?"

  Oliver groaned. She was in one of those frilly satiny nightgowns that she had been drooling over in one of those stores where she and the shop assistant had talked to each other in French and giggled.

  It wasn't revealing but it was sexy in an understated way. It was in virginal white.

  She sat beside him. "You couldn't sleep either?"

  "No." Oliver shook his head and pulled back his hair.

  "You look adorable." She looked at him admiringly and then looked at the television quickly. "I had no idea you were so toned."

  Oliver looked down at his chest. He had not pulled on a shirt.

  He used the cushion to cover himself.

  Ashaki glanced over at him and giggled. "You know, for a guy who is supposedly gay, you sometimes give me a feeling that you aren't."

  Oliver glanced at her. "I am not gay."

  Ashaki nodded. "That's good to hear. I overheard two of the nurses at the mission discussing it. And for a while I actually believed it."

  "You are cheeky." Oliver sighed and looked at the television. "So cheeky."

  Ashaki took the remote from his grasp. "I am never going to get used to using this thing."

  "You will," Oliver muttered. "You pick up on things alarmingly quickly."

  Like how to seduce a guy without even trying. He didn't say that out loud though.

  Ashaki scanned through the channels. "Tell me about our plans for Jamaica."

  "Our plans." Oliver smiled. "Well, our plans are, we go to Jamaica tomorrow. We'll be met at the airport by my brother Reuben and his wife Lola."

  Ashaki nodded. "Sounds good."

  "Then we'll go to my cousin Yuri's place and we'll have a mini family get-together with the Kingston clan. There I will get to meet my brother Kane and my newly discovered sister, Lisa. Who by the way, is seeing my friend, Nate. You remember Nate?"

  "Yes." Ashaki nodded. "He's the doctor who is now a photographer. The one that came to Kidogo to see you."

  "That's him." Oliver nodded. "I told him I got married to you."

  "And what did he say?" Ashaki turned down the television.

  "He said, 'You are a lucky guy, Oliver.'"

  Oliver turned his head and looked at her. Their eyes held in the half-light created by the television. He was the first to drag his eyes away.

  "Nate said I could use his house in Treasure Beach. It's empty and a welcome respite. I didn't want to stay with any relatives while I sorted out what to do next.

  “Nate's house is pretty close to my aunt and uncle. I can work with Dr. Levy in his family practice in the town close by, and you, you can go to school at Moun
t Faith; it's just minutes away. Or if you want you can just hang around at the beach or do whatever."

  "School?" Ashaki blinked. "That sounds good."

  "Yes, I knew you would like that." Oliver smiled. "The mission school will send your transcript to them. I told Maddie before we left to be on standby for the request."

  "Thank you, Oliver," Ashaki said, her voice husky.

  "You still want to be a nurse?" Oliver asked, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with her gratitude. Maybe because he didn't want her to mix up gratitude with another emotion, like love.

  "Yes!" Ashaki nodded. "But then I like to know how things work. I want to know the chemistry behind things or I could be a teacher, it's also a very good profession."

  Oliver smiled. "When I was your age, I flirted with the idea of doing several things too. You just need time to figure things out."

  "Tell me about when you were younger." Ashaki hugged a pillow close to her and got comfortable in the settee.

  "I grew up in a small district called Primrose Hill in rural Jamaica. It was quiet and uneventful for the most part; my mom was the district nurse. I went to the only high school there. My mother was needlessly overprotective."

  Ashaki snorted in laughter. "It's not hard to imagine her being overprotective of you."

  Oliver sipped his kefir and then closed his eyes. "My fondest memories are of the daffodils. My mother was into plants and I had to take care of them. I loved the yellow daffodils. Gorgeous plants."

  Ashaki watched him as he talked. He could feel her eyes on him.

  "And then I went to university in Kingston and then medical school here in New York on a scholarship. Kingston is where I met Nate. New York is where I met David."

  He opened his eyes a slit. "Do you love him?"

  Ashaki abandoned her relaxed pose and straightened up. "I don't know. I don't think so. He is the one that pushed for me to get out of Kidogo. I owe him something."