“Trust me here, and let me see you again in one month. In the meantime, I want you to keep a journal of any seizures that occur. Watch him closely, and time the seizures.”
They talked more, and in the end, she knew what to do if Philly had another seizure and when to take him to the E.R.
When she got home that evening her nerves were shot from the stress of the day, but she got dinner ready and kept Aunt Rose company for a little while. At nine-thirty, when she was trying to grade papers, she got a conference call from two of her friends—Gloria and Amelia—who were trying to get her to go out on Friday night.
“No, I can’t. Besides papers to grade, my brother has started having seizures, and I need to stay close to home.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Amelia said. “Look, you can’t wait until we call to fill us in.”
“I know, but once the semester gets going...”
“No more excuses,” Gloria chimed in. “We’re having lunch next week.”
“Maybe not,” Angelina said. “My great-aunt has a doctor’s appointment for her arthritis on Thursday.”
“Girl, you’re doing too much,” Amelia said.
“I know. It will get better when the semester is over.”
When she got off the phone, she turned back to her papers, but grading made her think about Alex. It was endearing to see Alex’s admiration for an older man, to see him trying to figure out how to find his way. She wanted him to go to school, but he didn’t seem to be taking her suggestion seriously. And he didn’t seem to be looking hard for a job, either.
Of course, he’d been very helpful with Philly, and he was getting to be more helpful with Aunt Rose. She wanted him to be okay, too. She was going to bring up school again.
That left her having to figure out how to set Jeremy straight.
She turned back to her papers. She was distracting herself when she needed to catch up. She would deal with that later.
Chapter 14
Jeremy put down the bowl of nachos and crossed his ankles on the coffee table. It had been a few days since he’d seen Angelina, and no reconciliation was on the horizon, but he had started to hope. For now, that was enough. His spirits were good enough to have his friends over for a game, and he didn’t even have to cook.
“Honey,” Alistair yelled from right next to him, “do you need any help?”
Reggie’s head appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “No, I’m fine. Hey, Jeremy, where’s your strainer?”
“Under the sink to the right.”
“Game started yet?” Reggie asked.
“Nope,” Alistair said.
“Then come open these jars.”
Alistair swung his head in a large circle and then scooted to the edge of the couch, continuing to watch the pre-game coverage.
“You know,” Myron said, “for a gay guy, you’re such a typical male.”
“You know,” Alistair responded, “if I wasn’t a typical male, I wouldn’t be a gay guy.”
Jeremy chuckled.
“I’ll be back.”
When Alistair got inside the kitchen, they heard Reggie peal with laughter and then go silent.
“At least somebody’s getting a little something,” said Myron.
“Are you all scandalizing Michelle?” Jeremy called toward the kitchen.
Michelle came into the living room wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt with her team’s logo. She put a bowl of chips and dip on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch. She had been staying in more regular contact with Jeremy since their talk, and he knew she was making sure that he was all right.
“It’ll take more than that to scandalize me.”
Jeremy drew Michelle’s head onto his shoulder, and at that moment, he wished she was Angelina.
“You ready for the game?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“You’re in a better mood,” Myron commented to Jeremy. “Anything we should know?”
“No, not really.”
Alistair came back and took a seat.
“Not really means a little bit,” Alistair said. “Spill.”
“Well, I found out that Angelina’s not involved and doesn’t have a son. But she still doesn’t want to see me.”
“So, who was the boy?” Michelle asked.
“It appears she’s raising her little brother and helping out her cousin.”
“Dag,” Alistair said. “How old is the brother?”
“He’s six.”
“That sounds like an awful lot of responsibility—too much,” Myron said.
It wasn’t something Jeremy had really considered before, but he was considering it now. What would it mean to have a six-year-old son at his age?
“I think it’s admirable of her,” Michelle said.
“Of course you would,” Myron said. “I do, too. I’m just thinking about getting into a relationship with someone who, for all practical purposes, has a six-year-old child.”
“So you’re saying she comes with too much baggage?” Alistair asked, not buying it.
“I’m just saying think about it. That’s all. You can’t play with being a father.”
“You know, with her, I don’t think I’d mind the responsibility. But I am a few years older than you.”
“Age is not the issue.”
“Well, in a way it is. Look at it this way. We were still in school when a lot of our peers were getting married and having children. It changed our perception of when those things should happen. My parents had me by the time they were my age.”
“And mine had me by now, too,” Michelle said.
“I get it,” Myron said. “I’m just saying to make sure you really want this woman before getting in with her kid.”
“I will do that.”
“Okay. That’s all.”
“Not that it’s actually an option,” Jeremy said, remembering. “I think her last words to me were ‘Leave me alone.’”
The group laughed and then apologized.
“It’s okay. It’s actually rather funny.”
“You are in a better mood,” Alistair said.
“You know,” Michelle said, “that’s never stopped you before. What about now?”
“I haven’t given up yet. I’ll let you know.”
“Is the game on yet?” Reggie called from the kitchen.
“No,” they all called back.
“Then come do some mixing.”
Alistair swung his head in a circle again and stood up.
“Okay,” Jeremy said. “Now he just wants to play.”
They all laughed.
Alistair headed to the kitchen. “And what my baby wants...”
They heard Reggie give a screeching laugh and then go quiet.
They all cracked up.
* * *
A week later, Jeremy found himself acting on what he had said—he hadn’t given up yet. With the address from her medical file in his pocket, he was on his way across town. He was halfway there when it occurred to him that he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.
He saw a bakery first, so he got the trio an assortment of pastries. He also stopped into a department store to get a token for Angelina, and he needed a card to go with it, so he found a drug store.
He knew he’d found the address when he recognized Phillip playing in the front yard. He had on jeans and a baseball shirt and was playing ball with some other children. Jeremy was glad to see Phillip having a good time, but he didn’t know what the reception would be inside. That, however, wouldn’t stop him from trying.
“Hey, Phillip.”
The boy got hold of the ball he was playing with, passed it along to one of the other children and ran u
p to him.
“Hi, Dr. Bell.”
“You remember my name. You’re a smart one, aren’t you? You can call me Jeremy, though.”
“Jeremy.”
“Is your sister around?”
“She’s in the kitchen.”
Jeremy looked at the box in his hand. “Would she let you have a pastry?”
“Uh-huh.”
Jeremy opened the box and let Phillip pick out a confection.
“Have you had any more seizures recently?”
Phillips shook his head.
“Excellent. You want to walk me up to the house?”
“Okay.”
Phillip let him in the front door, which opened into the living room. The furniture was stately but well used and a bit dated. The house looked as though it had been lived in for a long time but by a loving family.
On the walls there was floral wallpaper that was now somewhat faded, and the sofa set was covered with an old tapestry, probably to hide the need for reupholstering. The wooden coffee table in the center of the room had scuffs from use and white spots from hot plates. The stereo was antique, and the shelves of the entertainment center sagged in the middle where there had been heavy loads. The carpet, another floral design, was worn along the walking path. The flat-screen television and wireless telephone stood out as new among the old.
Beyond the age of things, though, the room told the history of a loving family. Family photographs lined the credenza. Memorabilia that was probably older than he was filled a china cabinet. Handmade doilies covered the arms of the sofas and tops of the end tables. Records and books and knickknacks filled the entertainment center around the television. Everything was scrubbed, polished, dusted, and loved—nicks and chips and fading and all.
Alex was on the sofa and straightened when he saw that there was company.
“Hi, Alex,” Jeremy said.
“Hello.”
He shook the young man’s hand and offered him a pastry.
“I’m looking for Angelina. Phillip said she’s in the kitchen.”
“Yes, she is.” He didn’t get up from the couch but called out to her. “Angelina, you have company.”
Jeremy couldn’t help but smile, glad as he was that he would be seeing Angelina again and getting a glimpse of her in her own space, her home.
Angelina appeared in the kitchen doorway and let out a heavy sigh when she saw that it was Jeremy. Her momentary surprise faded to a haggard look—one that he longed to soothe out of her features with gentle kisses. Without a word, she turned around and walked back into the kitchen. A bit worried that she had dismissed him completely, Jeremy frowned and followed her.
He found her standing behind an elderly woman who was sitting at the dining table. The older woman’s hair was damp, and there was a towel tucked into the neck of her floral dress. Angelina had a comb and a jar of pomade and had made one braid so far. She continued to part the woman’s hair and grease her scalp, ignoring him.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Jeremy, a friend of Angelina’s.”
“Afternoon.”
“Can I offer you a pastry?” He opened the box for her.
“Let me try that one.” She pointed to one.
He looked around for a napkin, found one on the table and handed the woman the sweet roll.
“Angelina? Where’s your manners? Introduce me to the young man.”
“Jeremy, this is my great-aunt, Aunt Rose.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Aunt Rose said.
“Aunt Rose, this is Jeremy Bell. He’s a radiologist at Miami Children’s Hospital, where they’re treating Philly.”
“I see. You got any news on what’s wrong with the boy?”
“No, I don’t. We’re still looking into it, though. He’s in good hands.”
“I hope they find out soon. Them spells he gets are enough to scare the living daylights out of you.”
“I know. I saw one myself.”
Since Angelina wasn’t joining in the conversation, he decided to talk to the aunt.
“How are you doing?”
“I have better days and worse days. But I’m eighty-four years old.”
“Eighty-four,” Jeremy echoed. “Congratulations.”
“Ain’t me. Thank the good Lord.”
“Well, you must have good genes.”
The old woman smiled at that. Then she felt for Angelina’s hand in her hair and tapped it.
“This ain’t how we taught you. Offer the young man some iced tea.”
Angelina sighed, clearly rattled to be impeded in her progress with the hair.
“Can I get you some iced tea, Jeremy?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
She got two glasses and poured the last of the iced tea for her great-aunt and Jeremy.
Jeremy sipped his drink and got comfortable. The kitchen was like the living room. It was a used house, but there was love in it.
“What did you do before you retired, Aunt Rose?”
“What? Well, I did more than one thing.”
While her great-aunt was telling the story of her work life, Angelina greased and braided her hair, never looking at him. When a buzzer went off, she washed her hands, moved clothes from the washer to the dryer and came back to her great-aunt’s hair.
She was wearing sweat pants, and a T-shirt and sneakers, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked comfortable, but she was also beautiful. The T-shirt was loose, but it didn’t conceal the gentle swell of her bosom, and the sweatpants hugged the curves of her rear and her thighs. He could remember the feel of her firm rump in his palms as he pressed her body against his. Jeremy stopped himself and pulled his mind from the gutter.
He could see that her family obligations didn’t end with Phillip and Alex. She was worked to the bone. He saw how tired she was in the soft circles under her eyes and the resignation etched into her jaw. His smiling Angelina was nowhere to be found, and he wondered if he would ever have her back. As soon as she would let him, he would be getting her some help around here.
When Angelina was finished, she moved her great-aunt into the living room. Then she came back to dismiss him.
“I don’t have very long. I have to get ready for classes tomorrow. Why are you here?”
“I came to see you.”
She piled the hair supplies into the towel and placed it on the counter. Then she got out some chicken parts from the fridge and started to wash and skin them.
“Have you seen enough?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You need to leave anyway.”
“Let me help you with dinner. I make pretty good—”
She turned to him. “This is not going to work, Jeremy. Let it go.”
“I think it can work, and I can’t let it go. I’m so sorry for the things I said to you in my office, for the things I thought. I’m sorry for the things my friends said. They’re not bad people, but they have a little growing up to do. And by the way, Alistair wasn’t participating. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. Go out with me next weekend.”
“No. Look. This isn’t a fantasy, and you’re sure as hell no prince charming. I have a family to take care of. I’m not the person you met on that cruise, and you’re not the person I met, either. I don’t have the time or energy to make an even bigger fool of myself than I have already.”
“I am the person you met. I just make mistakes sometimes, like us regular mortals do. Everyone is not a superwoman like you. And you don’t have to do it all alone. Let me be there for you.”
Angelina crossed to the cupboard and took out a box of pasta.
“It’s not about whether I do things alone or not. It’s about what happened between us and what ended that and
what’s happened since then. You know, probably the only reason you’re here now is because no one ever tells you no. You’re handsome and charming and financially comfortable. You can have whomever you want. Well, go find them, and leave me alone.”
“The person I want is standing right here. And I’ve been told no. Not a lot, I’ll admit, but I’m not spoiled. And I can tell that you don’t have a lot of time. I’m not here to make things harder. I want to make things easier.”
“Make them easier by leaving me alone.”
Jeremy got up from his seat and leaned against the counter.
“You know what I think? I think you’re afraid. You’re afraid to want me, afraid to let yourself rely on someone else a little, afraid what people might think, afraid to be the woman who’s not afraid to get what she wants, as Safire so eloquently put it. Speaking of which, where is your sister? How come she’s not helping out with all of this? You have Philly, who’s having seizures, a great-aunt who needs round-the-clock care and a cousin who doesn’t know what he wants to do with himself.”
“Leave my younger sister out of it. And it’s none of your business how we arrange affairs in our family. And if you think I’m afraid, go find yourself someone who isn’t. Go.”
“No.”
He approached her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She stilled and inhaled. He started to pull her into his arms, but she pushed him off before he could wrap them around her, before he could kiss her. He knew that if he had, she would have responded, just as she had every time since the very beginning. And she clearly didn’t want that. It would belie all her protestations.
He looked at her and sighed.
“Okay. I’ll leave you to cooking and class prep. I’m not here to make your life harder. When you see that, maybe you’ll let me in. That,” he pointed to the small bag on the table next to the pastry box, “is for you. Look at it when you have a chance.”
Chapter 15
“There’s more to it than you’ve indicated in your paper,” Angelina said. “By drawing upon the epic narrative tradition, Douglass is not only assuming control of Western discourse, he’s using the master discourse against the masters. He’s doing what Audre Lorde said couldn’t be done when she said that ‘the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.’”
Love on the High Seas Page 13
