Deliver Me (18 page)

“Well, I’m saying it
now. Mama, Monica is my new girlfriend.” Eli reached over and took her by the
hand. As he placed a gentle kiss on her fingertips, an instant zing of
something Monica did not want to identify shot from her fingers to every part
of her body. They had not discussed public displays of affection, and she
certainly wasn’t prepared for the feel of Eli’s soft lips on her skin.

“That’s just wonderful,” Margo said.

Pinpricks of guilt assaulted her conscience as Monica witnessed the joy
shining in Margo’s eyes. The woman’s enthusiasm forced Monica to come to grips
with the far-reaching implications of her snap judgment. When she agreed to Eli’s
plan, she had not considered how their pretend relationship would affect other
people in both of their lives.

“Let me show you off to the rest of the family,” Margo said. Eli laid it
on just a bit too thick by pretending he didn’t want to let go of her arm. They
were definitely going to have a discussion the next time they were alone.

“I’ll just drop in on Alex, then I’ll be with the two of you, okay?”

“Don’t worry about us,” Margo said, practically dragging Monica.

A few hours later, Monica felt as if she had known Eli’s family for
years. They were boisterous, and sometimes bawdy, but they were a family in
every sense of the word. Apparently, the stories Margo told of her three sons
were staples at family gatherings. Nearly everyone could recite them verbatim.
But they all laughed at the same parts, too. From what she could glean from his
mother’s tales, Eli and his brothers were a rowdy trio, but always had each
other’s backs.

When Eli tapped her on the shoulder, interrupting her game of Pitty Pat,
Monica realized she wasn’t ready to go.

“Are you sure you two can’t stay a little while longer, Elijah?” Margo
asked as she put her hand of cards down and rose from the table.

“Sorry, Mama. Monica had plans that have been in the works for weeks. She
couldn’t cancel.”

If they were really dating, Monica would be disturbed by the fact that he
could lie so easily.

“Well, I’ll see you two tomorrow. And be on time, Elijah Marcus. You know
I don’t take any excuses when it comes to Sundays.”

“I promise,” Eli said,
his laughing eyes on Monica as he bent to give his mother a kiss.

Margo took Monica’s hands and cradled them between her soft, warm palms. “It
was a pleasure meeting you.”

“For me, too. You have a beautiful family, Mrs. Holmes.”

“I told you to call me Margo.”

“Margo,” Monica amended.

Eli came around and rested his hand on the small of her back. It was a
casual gesture, unnerving in its familiarity and how right it felt. “We’ve got
to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mama. Hey, Daffodil,” Elijah hollered
toward the Jungle Gym where his niece was hanging upside down.

“It’s Jasmine, Uncle Eli.” She jumped down and ran toward them. Elijah
scooped her up into his arms.

“What did you say?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, “How many times do I got to tell you? My
name is Jasmine.”

“How many times do you
have
to
tell me?” He blew a raspberry on her cheek. “Enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

“Thanks for the big girl bicycle, Uncle Eli.”

“You’re welcome, Easter Lily.”

Jasmine gave him an exaggerated eye roll. His deep rumble of laughter
sent a pleasant chill down Monica’s back. “That little girl,” Eli said, shaking
his head as they turned onto the sidewalk and headed for his Range Rover.

“She’s precious,” Monica said.

“She’s a trip and a half. Alex has his hands full.”

“Where’s her mother, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“She died last year,” he answered.

“Oh,” Monica tried to think of something else to say, but words escaped
her. How awful must it be for a five-year-old to lose her mother.

“How did she die?” Monica asked after Eli settled into his seat and
buckled his seatbelt.

“A car accident,” he said, checking his review mirror then pulling out.

“That’s horrible.”

“Not really.”

Monica inhaled a shocked breath. “Why would you say such a thing?”

He swerved to miss a basketball that had bounced into the street, waving
at the group of teenaged boys hanging around the basketball court.

“Chantal was smart, beautiful; everything my mother could want in a
daughter-in-law,” Eli said. “But she was a bitch. Toby and I saw it from the
beginning, but Alex’s nose was so wide open you could see that fool’s brain
cells.”

“That’s still no reason for you to be so nonchalant about her death.”

“Look, I’m not saying I was happy to see her die, but I didn’t breakdown
at her funeral either. That girl put my brother through hell.” Eli paused. He
took an uneasy breath, then said, “She wasn’t alone in the car when she wrapped
it around a tree.”

“Oh.” Understanding brought with it unease, as Monica felt the anger
radiating from Eli.

“You want to know the worst of it?” Eli shook his head. “Alex knew all
about Chantal’s other man. She had been seeing him for more than a year.
Chantal had even brought her lover to their house. She had my niece calling him
Uncle.”

Monica wasn’t sure why Eli was telling her all of this. It was as if he’d
kept it inside and finally had someone to unload on. She could not believe Alex
Holmes would tolerate such behavior in a wife. It just didn’t gel with his
all-brawn, no-nonsense demeanor.

“Why in the world would he stay with someone like her?”

“She threatened to take Jasmine away. Alex would walk through fire and
back before he let anyone take that little girl away from him.”

Monica nodded in understanding. Although she had only spoken to him
briefly at the party, it was unquestionable that Alexander Holmes’s life
revolved around his daughter.

“And you all found out about this after she died?”

“Toby and I did. Alex never told Mama. She still thinks Chantal should be
petitioned for sainthood.”

“And Jasmine?”

“Her mommy is an angel. Alex would never do anything to mar Jazzy’s
memory of her mother.”

“He’s the one who deserves to be sainted.”

“I’d be happy if he just went on a date again.”

“He doesn’t date?” Monica asked, amazement lifting her voice. “But he’s
gorgeous.”

“Any other man would be flattered that you think so, but the compliment
would probably fly right over my brother’s head. Alex hasn’t dated since before
he and Chantal were married.”

“He needs a girlfriend.”

Eli let out a shout of laughter. “Please, do not say that around him. I
almost got my head knocked off my shoulders the last time I suggested he get a
woman.”

“I have a feeling your suggestion was more depraved than mine.”

He winked, an easy smile playing across his lips. “You’re right.”

Monica shook her head. The man was a constant flirt.

“So, what’s this about Sunday dinner?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah...that. It’s sort of a tradition.”

“Was I going to hear about it before you came to pick me up tomorrow?”

“I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t had the chance.”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you available?”

“My shift starts at six tomorrow night.”

“That’s perfect. Church is over around noon. Mama spends another hour or
so fellowshipping, even longer depending on whose granddaughter dressed like a
tramp for church. Dinner usually isn’t served until about two o’clock. That’s
plenty enough time for you to eat and visit before you have to get ready for
work.”

“Should I get used to these surprises?”

“Sorry to spring this on you. I promise to give more notice in the
future.”

They pulled up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Eli got
out and it wasn’t until he came over to her side to open the door that Monica
realized she had waited for him to do just that. Already, she’d come to expect
it.

She would not let herself get used to his gallantry. She had seen enough
women lose their heads over the Cinderella treatment. Before coming to New
Orleans, she had been one of them.

“Sorry the plantation hunting didn’t go well,” he said, lending his hand,
which Monica accepted as she alighted from the vehicle. “Do you have a plan B?”

“Yes, but I’m not ready to give up on plan A yet,” she said. “Those were
not the only plantations on the list.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready to go again.”

Her brow rose. “You’re willing to spend another day searching for a
venue?”

“It’s only fair I hold up my end of the bargain. After all, you’ll be
doing your share, starting with dinner tomorrow.”

Before Monica could reply, a loud voice from up the street stopped her.

“Well, it’s about time!”
 

Monica and Eli turned toward the voice.

“Nia?” Monica shrieked, then ran toward her best friend who was walking
up the sidewalk eating a snow cone. The two clasped each other in a hug.

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s your fault. You just had to go and
mention beignets and jazz music. Next thing I knew, my behind was on a plane
headed for New Orleans.”

“Girl, you are out of your mind.”

They started toward her building, but Nia stopped. “What do we have here?”

Eli waited where Monica had left him standing. The afternoon breeze
plastered his shirt to his chest, displaying a hint of his incredibly chiseled
abdomen and chest. Lord, have mercy, but the man was fine.

Monica looked over at Nia and could almost see the wheels turning in her
head. Oh, no. She would not let Nia paint her own sordid picture.

“It’s not what it looks
like,” she said.

“You sure, because
It
looks
like he could be draped across a buffet table and drizzled with chocolate.”

“Nia!” Monica whispered fiercely, thankful they were still too far from
Eli for him to overhear. She wished Nia would, for once, talk like the married
woman she was. Granted, marrying her best friend had loosened her brother up,
but maybe Phillip was a bit too trusting. Most husbands would have a problem
with their wives ogling other men.

As they approached him, she said a silent prayer that Nia would not
embarrass her in front of Eli. Given her sister-in-law’s track record, Monica
knew she was asking a lot.

“Eli, this is my best friend, Nia. Nia, this is Doctor Elijah Holmes. He’s
an Ob-gyn at Methodist Memorial.”

Eli took Nia’s hand and placed a gallant kiss on the back of it. “A
pleasure to meet you.”

Nia made stupid, gooey eyes at Monica over his bent head.

“Did I interrupt something,” Nia asked. “Oh, please tell me I interrupted
something. I can go back down to Jackson Square.” She turned to Eli. “How long
should I stay gone? One hour? Two? The rest of the night?”

“Nia!” Monica was going to wring her neck. She needed to get this girl
away from civilized people. “We need to go.” She grabbed Nia by the arm and
pulled her toward her building.

“What about our date?” Eli called out after them.

Monica stopped short. She turned to find Eli smiling. He was having his
own brand of fun with this.

“Date?” Nia’s eyes lit up. “You go, girl,” she whispered in Monica’s ear.

“It’s not what you think,” Monica said under her breath. Gesturing to
Nia, she said to Eli, “I didn’t realize I would have company. You understand,
don’t you? Maybe we can—”

“Don’t cancel your plans on my account,” Nia said.

“No, Monica’s right,” Eli replied. “You came here to visit her.”

“True, but I also came to see the city.” Dislodging her arm from the hold
Monica had on it, Nia walked over to stand directly in front of Eli. “So, how
long have you lived here?”

“All my life,” Eli answered.

“Well, then, you must know of some good jazz clubs. You see, my best
friend lured me here with the promise of good food and good jazz, and since I’m
only in town for a couple of days, I don’t want to waste a minute.”

“I can show you a few places.”

“Umm...hello?” Monica waved her hands. “I thought you were here to see
me,” she said to Nia.

“You’re going to be with us. I’m not going to go hopping around the city
with your man without you.”

“He is not—”

“Why don’t I go home and change, and be back in an hour to pick the two
of you up?” Eli suggested. “We can have dinner at the Praline Connection.”

“I’ve heard of that place,” Nia said.