Fifteen Years (27 page)

The thought of those words brought Josiah back to the present. Just as the unexpected call from Arielle had brought a sense of validity to what his pastor had told him, it also brought on more uncertainties. Patrice couldn’t be any more confused and scared than he. What if she were using the dinner as the opportunity to lay into him for coming on to her at the park? That wallop that she delivered to the side of his face didn’t feel much like love. When it came down to it, what he felt for her may not even matter. If she decided that a sister was all she wanted to be to him, then he’d just have to settle for that… crazy love notwithstanding.

Noting that he was the last patron still sitting in the main dining area of The Sycamore Grill, Josiah wiped his mouth one final time and stood. It was time to head back to the hotel and turn in for the night. He could only hope that he’d be able to sleep. The call from Arielle had his mind racing a hundred miles a minute.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

THIS WAS WHAT she got for trying to raise a well-rounded child—teaching her daughter to be technologically savvy at such an early age. Some years ago, Patrice had heard an aging radio preacher say that technology was sin in its truest sense. He said the day would surely come when Christians would see that it was all a part of the devil’s well-devised plan to make people feel that they were as smart as God. He likened the age of technology to the fruit that Eve had fed to Adam—the fruit that had been extracted from the Garden of Eden’s Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The fruit that made men’s brow have to sweat for a living and caused women much travail during childbirth. Patrice had found the analogy to be ridiculous at the time, but while she frantically rushed around—spraying the carpet with the dry foam version of Carpet Fresh, spraying the air with Glade air freshener, spraying the coffee table with Pledge—trying to prepare her apartment for
Josiah’s arrival, all she could think was
maybe he had a point.

If she had listened to that old preacher instead of laughing at him, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Her teaching Arielle how to go into her phone and pull up the address book had come back to bite her. Arielle was an exceptional kid. At the age of four, she already knew how to recite and recognize all of her alphabet and could read simple words. So with an address listing that simply consisted of two letters—J and T—Josiah’s number had been easy for the child to identify.

“He probably thinks I told her to call him.” Patrice was supposed to be fluffing the matching throw pillows that accented her cream white sofa set, but irritation had her punching them instead.

Her two-bedroom apartment was modest, but welcoming. Her walls were the color of eggshells, and the carpet that covered her living room floor was emerald green and plush to the touch. When she moved into the apartment three years ago, Joanne gave her an antique china cabinet that she used for displaying interesting collectibles instead of dishes. The cabinet rested catty-corner in the living room and served as its focal point. No pictures adorned her walls. Not in the living room anyway. All of her hanging photos were kept in her bedroom. The items in her china cabinet were always the ones that became the main conversation pieces on the rare occasions when visitors dropped by.

“Arielle, what are you doing?” Patrice called out from the living room. She tried not to take her frustrations out on her child, but she was so put out with her daughter that she’d been short with her ever since she picked her up from pre-K this afternoon.

“Combing Barbie’s hair.” From the sound of her voice, Arielle must have been in her bedroom.

“Make sure you put on your denim skirt,” Patrice ordered. “You can’t walk around in your underwear while we have company.”

That was something that she’d heard Joanne say years ago. A toddler child had just been placed in their foster home, and since Patrice was the eldest in the home at the time, she’d been assigned to get the little girl dressed one Friday evening when the now late Dr. Charles Loather and his wife were coming by for a visit. Joanne said that it was improper for a girl, regardless of her age, to walk around half-dressed when company came by.

“Can I have a cookie?”

Patrice was spraying her sofa set with Febreeze when she looked up to see Arielle standing in the entryway that separated the living room from the hall. Her skirt was on, but the front of it was where the back should be. Laughter spilled from Patrice’s mouth. She could never stay mad at her baby. “No, you can’t have a cookie. Not until after dinner. Now come here so I can straighten up your clothes.”

“Is Uncle JT coming?” The child’s question reminded Patrice of why she was so nervous.

“How many times have you asked me that same question today, Arielle? Didn’t you call him and ask him to come by for dinner?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She pulled at one of her long, jet-black pigtails.

“And didn’t he tell you that he would be here at six?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay then; he’ll be here, so stop asking the same question over and over again.”

“Is it almost six?”

Patrice released a burdened sigh. “Arielle, didn’t I just tell you to stop asking—”

“That’s not the same question.” Sometimes the child was too smart for her own good. “It’s a different question.”

Patrice couldn’t dispute her. She gave the hem of Arielle’s short skirt a gentle tug while she tried to think of what to say next.

“Uncle JT!” Arielle screamed when the doorbell abruptly interrupted their conversation. She squirmed herself free of Patrice and headed toward the door at full speed.

“Arielle … Arielle, wait!” Patrice’s whisper was urgent, and it stopped the little girl dead in her tracks. “Calm down and stop acting like we don’t ever get any company.”

Well, they really didn’t, but Josiah didn’t have to know that the second he walked in the apartment. For every drop of excitement that her daughter obviously had, Patrice matched it in jumbled nerves. What was she to expect tonight? Josiah had basically been coerced into this visit, and she was sure that he thought that she had orchestrated it all. She’d never be able to convince him that Arielle had called him without her awareness. Patrice wouldn’t believe it herself if she didn’t know it to be the truth.

She rushed to the bathroom down the hall and pitched the Febreeze inside. Patrice was aiming for the counter, but heard it crash into the bathtub just before she closed the door. She’d have to remember to put it in its proper place later. Drying her sweating palms on the cotton fabric of her sundress, she then finger-combed the hair that she’d chosen to wear hanging loose this evening, and then took several deep, cleansing breaths as she walked toward the door, ignoring Arielle’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hi, JT.” She put on her best smile when she finally opened the front door.

“Uncle JT!” Arielle tore past her and wrapped her arms around Josiah’s legs.

His eyes lingered on Patrice for a while, but he pulled them downward before reaching and hoisting Arielle up in his arms, kissing her cheek. “Hi, baby girl.” Now Arielle had two nicknames thanks to Thomas and Josiah. He looked back at Patrice and his tone was a lot less enthusiastic when he said, “Hey, Peaches.”

“Come on in.” Keeping her voice steady was going to be a challenge. Josiah’s hazel eyes were wreaking havoc on her heart. Patrice noted a slight tremble of her own hand when she swept her arm toward the sofa. “Wanna have a seat?”

His only answer was his noncompliance. On second thought, Patrice was glad he didn’t readily accept her offer. She didn’t know if the Febreeze had dried yet. With Arielle still in his arms, Josiah stood in the middle of the floor and looked around. “You have a nice place here.” His eyes came to a rest on the china cabinet, and after a slight pause, he walked toward it.

“Thanks.” Patrice wiped her hands on her dress again. Were they ever gonna stop sweating? She watched his every move. He looked good in the red pin-striped dress shirt and black slacks that he wore. Patrice finished her response with, “It’s small, but only two people live here, so it’s plenty big enough for us.”

Josiah turned from his observation of the curios in the cabinet. “I take it that green is your favorite color?”

“No.” Patrice eluded his eyes.

“You sure?” He pointed at Patrice’s carpet, Arielle’s blouse, Patrice’s dress, and then at the china cabinet.

Patrice cracked a nervous smile. She used the back of the couch for reinforcement. It felt like her legs were going to give under the pressure of her nerves. “I’m a member of a professional sorority,” she explained. “Iota Phi Lambda. Our sorority colors are emerald green and white.”

Josiah nodded like he had a better understanding. With as much shameless advertising as he gave his fraternity, he should. He pointed at the china cabinet beside him. “So is it safe to assume that the turtle is your mascot?”

“It is.” Patrice wiped her hands once more, wondering if she needed to adjust her air conditioner or if it were just her.

“Uncle JT, I got a turtle necklace, a turtle cup, some turtle earrings, and turtles on my sandals in my closet,” Arielle announced. “You wanna see them?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—”

“Do you?” Josiah gasped, and his eyes became the size of quarters as he broke into Patrice’s sentence. “You actually have turtles on all those things?”

“Uh-huh.” Arielle nodded with delight.

“Na-uh.” Josiah sounded like a ten-year-old and shook his head from side to side with just as much vigor as Arielle had bobbed hers. “I don’t believe you.”

“Uh-huh,” Arielle sang with insistence. She grinned from ear to ear, taking apparent pleasure in their little game. “I gotta big turtle pillow too. If you shake it, the eyes move and everything.”

Josiah slapped his cheek. “Wow! For real?” He set Arielle down on the floor and added, “I want to see it, baby girl. I want to see
all
of it. Go get your shoes and the jewelry and your pillow, and whatever else you got with turtles on it and bring it to me.”

“Okay.” Arielle was all too happy to oblige. Her long, thick ponytails swung during the energetic skip-run she did as she headed toward the hallway.

Patrice was no dunce. She knew that Josiah had voiced the melodramatic order so that they could have a few moments alone. When he started walking toward her, Patrice wanted to escape the unknown, but the bottoms of her sandals were sewn into the fibers of her carpet. Or at least it felt that way as she stood helplessly and watched all of the space that had separated them gradually disappear until there were only a few inches left.

“Why didn’t you call me yourself? Why did you have Arielle do it?” He didn’t waste one moment on pointless preliminaries. Josiah was standing so close that Patrice could smell the mint that
he must have eaten shortly before his arrival.

“I didn’t have her do it.” She saw the skepticism on his face and immediately added, “I promise I didn’t, JT. She asked about you coming for dinner, and Daddy kind of made a casual suggestion that she invite you. Arielle took it seriously. I didn’t even know she’d called you until the conversation between the two of you had already taken place.”

“So what are you saying? I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the innocent naivety of a child?”

Okay. She hadn’t expected him to ask that question. Patrice felt backed into a corner now. If she said that Arielle’s misunderstanding was the only reason he was there, Josiah might do a quick rewind and back out the front door, leaving her to explain his sudden disappearance to her daughter. On the other hand, if she were too quick to say that she wanted him there, he might think … Well, she wasn’t sure what he’d think. She was getting mixed signals. Would Josiah be happy to know she wanted him there, or would he still back out the door and leave?

Josiah looked as if he were still waiting for an answer to his question, but when she didn’t offer one, he revealed a slight smile and nodded, like maybe he already knew what the answer was. Then he glanced toward the hallway, probably to be sure Arielle wasn’t about to walk in. There was no sight of her, but his voice level remained low. “Look, Peaches, I’m really sorry about Monday. I shouldn’t have—”

“But you didn’t,” she said. It was time to admit the truth. “I’m the one that—”

“But you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten the whole mess started. You were vulnerable at that moment and—”

“I’m a grown woman, JT. You didn’t take advantage, if that’s what you think. I wasn’t some helpless, defenseless, damsel in distress.
I don’t fault you for any of—”

“Then why did you—”

“Slap you?” Patrice shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I think it just took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting—”

“How could you not have expected it? It wasn’t like I pounced on you or anything. I leaned in, and there was a clear and definite pause before you met me. That was the reason that I waited like that. I didn’t want to do anything that you didn’t want to do and—”

“Not the kiss.” Patrice held up her hand to stop him and shook her head at the same time. “I don’t mean that I wasn’t expecting the kiss. I meant I didn’t expect to feel…” She wanted Josiah to keep up their pattern and break into her thoughts, but he didn’t. After the sentence hung incomplete for a while, he urged her to continue.