All I Want Is Forever (12 page)

“He's changed, sugar.”

“If I had a dime for every time you said that.” Derrick clenched a fist.

“Yes, I stayed with him much longer than I should have. It hurt you, and I take the blame for it.”

“You did the best you could. I sure don't blame you.”

“Forgive him, Derrick. I have. It's time.” Ruthann spoke in a gentle voice, the same way she'd coaxed him to take cough medicine as a child.

“I have. But he should stay away from you.”

“I don't want you calling him up and telling him not to visit me.” Ruthann wore a stern expression. “I'm grown. This is my house and I say who can come see me.”

“But Mama—”

“Don't ‘but Mama' me, son!” Her frown melted away. “Baby, you can't rush around fixing everything. I know you had to be strong as a boy. But just like this thing with Monette, you gotta be careful.”

He glanced at her sharply. “How do you know about that?”

“I still read the papers. She's up for parole, and they mentioned something about the District Attorney's Office. Miss Rose tells me Talia is back in town. I may be weak in the body, but ain't a thing wrong with my mind.” Ruthann tapped her temple.

“I don't want you worrying about that kind of stuff.”

“I'm worried about how you take so much on your shoulders. You feel like you gotta right every wrong.” Nell closed her gnarled hand around his. “You can't. Besides, you take some crazy risks.”

Derrick glanced away. Talia had given him the same lecture. “I'm just doing my job.”

“I'm proud of you, baby. Don't get me wrong. But you can't do it all yourself,” Nell said.

“I'm always careful, sweetheart. You sure were right, this is good sweet tea!” Derrick chattered on about relatives to distract her and himself from worrisome thoughts.

Talia sat on the floor of Mama Rose's living room with the large pink photo album in her lap. She'd come across it while cleaning out a hall closet. Her hand shook as she opened it. Tears welled up in her eyes at the first photo. A small, grim child gripped a black baby doll with a frown at the camera.

The Life Book had been put together for her by foster care social workers. Pictures of her as a toddler with captions saying how old she was filled the first few pages. Like all foster mothers, Mama Rose had maintained the Life Book and added to it so that Talia would have some sense of a past. Often kids bounced around the system didn't have the simple mementos of baby pictures or school pictures. What seemed a normal part of growing up for most kids had to be a special project for children in foster care. Years had passed since she'd looked at the album. Determined never to cry again, Talia had refused to even touch it once she turned twelve. Just as determined, Mama Rose had snapped away with her little camera. The result was a history of her childhood right up until she graduated from college.

Talia smiled through tears at her fifth-grade picture.
She remembered that plaid jumper. It had been her favorite. Monette and her second foster mother had fought with her not to wear it to school every day. Then her chest grew tight with emotion at the photo two pages later. A young, lovely Monette dressed to kill stood proudly next to Talia dressed in a little cap and gown. The caption said “Sixth Grade Grad, Straight A Student! A proud day for us all!” in Mama Rose's handwriting. This was the mother she'd longed for, prayed for at Mama Rose's urging. Yet Monette had slid back into a sordid, dangerous world only a few days later. Gone for two months, she showed up one day dirty and looking years older. Talia leaned her head back against the sofa cushion and let the tears fall.

Evening shadows lengthened across the carpeted floor until the room was dark. The only light came from a single small lamp near the window. Talia started at the musical sound of the doorbell.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Derrick called out, worry making his voice deeper. His tall frame appeared in the window next to the front door. He peered through the sheer curtain.

“I'm fine. Just a minute.”

Talia hastily wiped her face with the back of one hand. She stood and tossed the album on the sofa. In quick order she turned on the large floor lamp, smoothed down her oversize sweatshirt, and wiped her eyes once more. Derrick stared at her hard when she opened the door to let him in.

“You look—”

“I fell asleep. Now you know how puffy my eyes get. I'm a fright in the morning when I first wake up. Let me fix my face or you'll think I'm wearing a Halloween mask,” she joked, the words coming out fast as she strained to sound buoyant.

“Okay,” he said. His tone indicated he wasn't quite convinced.

“Be right back.”

Talia headed for the bathroom in her bedroom. She splashed cool water on her face then put on more face powder and freshened her lip gloss. With three deep breaths, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

“God, you still look awful,” she muttered. It was the best she could do.

Derrick stood holding the open Life Book in his large hands. “You were a beautiful little girl,” he said quietly. “I remember the first time I saw you at Lanier Elementary. You had those two thick braids hanging down to your shoulders on either side. I stopped dead in my tracks.”

“Good old Lanier. Or as I liked to call it the Halls of Hell,” Talia wisecracked. “Some girl told everybody I was a ‘welfare kid' and my mama was a jailbird.”

“The next time we met was in the principal's office.”

“She deserved a good shove and more. Besides, she pushed me first. Even my teacher said so.” Talia smiled wickedly. “She hit that floor right on her butt.”

“Such a bad girl.”

Talia crossed her arms and eyed him. “And just what were you doing in the principal's office? Hmmm, I seem to recall something about setting ten white mice loose, one of which climbed up the math teacher's skirt.”

“They never proved a thing. I was railroaded,” Derrick said with a mock look of outrage.

“Sure you were.”

“Circumstantial evidence.”

“Mr. Browning didn't care about legal technicalities as I recall.” Talia wore a slight smile. “He burned us both.”

“You stood right up to him and said Marla was lucky she still had her teeth.” Derrick chuckled. “You were one tough character.”

“Yeah, I handled my business.” Talia sat next to him on the sofa.

Derrick's expression grew serious. “That hard shell protected a soft heart. Such beautiful deep eyes.” He looked at the album again.

Talia snatched it from his hands. “I should burn the damn thing. I don't need these memories.”

He took it back. “It won't work, Talia. Besides, these are Mama Rose's memories, too. Look at the love she put into making it special.”

Her throat closed as she fought not to cry again, not with him here at least. Derrick turned the pages slowly. Mama Rose had put pretty decals of flowers and baby animals to decorate the pages. Photos of her as a teen included some of Talia's favorite poems printed beside them. Even though she'd refused to work on the book, Mama Rose had gone on without her.

“She used to say everyone deserves sweet childhood memories,” Talia said in a quiet voice. “She became a foster mother to make that happen for at least a few kids.”

“Hard to believe you could smile, but you did.” Derrick held it out so that she could see another photo. In this one Talia squinted in sunshine with a wide grin, a softball in one hand.

“Mama Rose did her best. One day Monette came over with this toy set of little people and a town. I was eleven I think. I remember we were laughing at some corny joke I'd told. Then Monette just started bawling like a baby.”

“She was hurting, too.”

“She kept saying ‘I'm sorry, Talia, baby. I'm so
sorry.'” Talia stared at a high school photo of Monette. She looked fresh and hopeful. “God, what happened to you?”

“Ask her,” Derrick said softly. His hand closed over one of hers. “I think she needs to tell you as much as you need to hear it.”

“No matter what she went through, it doesn't excuse everything she's done.”

“Has she ever tried to make excuses?” Derrick rested his head against Talia's.

She frowned. “Lies and elaborate stories to explain why she would just disappear, yes.”

“I found out a lot of things about my father's upbringing that helped me understand. I don't excuse the way he treated us though.” Derrick rubbed her arm. “At some point after you become an adult you make choices, you know?”

“Exactly,” Talia said firmly.

“I even understood why my mother stayed with him. I think she always saw the hurt little boy inside him.” Derrick's voice dropped. “And she loved him as a man.”

“But she got over him.”

“I suppose.” Derrick sat back and gazed at Talia. “Back to you and Monette. No matter what has happened she's your mother. I don't think you can make peace with your childhood until you try to understand her.”

“Have you?”

Derrick's jaw clenched before he spoke again. “I'm still working on it.”

“Monette hasn't changed one bit either. All I'll get is more heartache.” Talia stared straight ahead with a determined expression. “No thanks.”

“Maybe Monette is the same. But you'll never know
unless you go see her.” Derrick brushed a lock of her hair from where it had fallen across her forehead.

Talia took a deep breath and let it out. She'd thought her most pressing problem would be making sure Mama Rose had the best of care. Mama Rose seemed to be blooming. So were complications for Talia. Her plan to get in and out quick had been a fantasy. Her past, as thick as swamp mud, pulled her in inch by inch each day.

“Coming home just couldn't be simple, could it?” Talia pressed against Derrick for warmth. His solid body offered a measure of reassurance.

Derrick watched her bustle around Mama Rose's kitchen. She seemed a bit nervous in a domestic role, yet had insisted she wanted to prepare him at least one meal. He stretched his legs out beneath the table. The cozy feeling of a simple dinner at home felt so good. Talia wasn't the homemaker type, and he didn't want her to be. Yet he had a brief fantasy of coming home to her each night.

“Honey, your shrimp Creole was delicious.” Derrick traced a furrow in the cotton tablecloth with his fingers.

“Not enough red pepper.” Talia's shapely eyebrows drew together. “And the French bread was too brown around the edges.”

“Everything was fine. Guess you'll be in good practice by the time you get back to D.C.” Derrick stared at the dainty yellow flowers as he continued to draw invisible lines on the table.

“Mama Rose will have a fit when she sees how I've rearranged things.” Talia put the last dish into the dishwasher. “I just can't keep up with her system.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I suppose the kitchen stuff in your apartment is pretty simple. You'll be glad to get back to it, huh?”

Talia hung the yellow dish towel on a white enamel rack over the sink. “Okay, come out with it.” She sat down at the table next to him.

“What?” Derrick didn't look at her.

She put her hand on his and rubbed the back of it. “You're wondering when I'm leaving.”

His heart thumped. For the last week he'd imagined the torture of watching her get on an airplane. Mama Rose would come home soon. Talia had prepared her report on the mandatory-sentencing bill and appeared at the legislature. There was no reason for her to stay. A month ago he'd lied to himself and to her. He hadn't come close just to living in the moment. Derrick kept thinking about a sweet future in her arms every night, of being beside her when she woke up each morning.

“I know you'll be gone soon,” he said, forcing the words out.

“Well, I don't know.” Talia chewed her bottom lip.

A tickle of hope traveled up his arm from her touch. “What do you mean?”

“For one thing she's got a gentleman friend, and I don't think she wants to leave him just yet.” Talia wore a slight smile.

“She loves this house. I don't see Mama Rose giving it up.” Derrick shook his head.

“I don't know. She's been saying it's real lonesome out here and getting harder for her to keep up the place.” Talia pointed to the scenery outside. “Takes a lot to manage those pecan groves and the timber.”

“She's lived here a long time since her husband died.”

“Papa George was the only man I trusted and felt close to,” Talia said, her voice pitched deep with affection. “Besides you.”

“Thanks, baby.” Derrick pressed his lips to her hand.

“Anyway, Mama Rose even mentioned building another house close to Shadow Road. That's almost three miles from here.” Talia pursed her lips.

“Makes sense though. She'd be closer to stores, the post office, and her church.”

“I guess.” She looked around. “She put a lot of love into this house.”

“She put a lot of love into raising you and the other kids. You stayed with her the longest, so I'm not surprised she'd want you to have it.”

“I went back and forth. Monette convinced the social workers she'd changed at least five times.” Talia did not look angry despite her words. “At least I had Mama Rose to count on.”

“She's worth gold,” Derrick agreed.

“Her doctor says Mama's attitude has really helped. This man has helped,” Talia said.

“Have you met him?”

“She's been keeping him undercover.” Talia laughed. “But he was visiting when I went over last week. Nice-looking distinguished guy with silver hair. Looks like the kind of man she'd find attractive.”

“Okay, so what have you found out about him?” Derrick grinned when she hesitated. “Come on, you've got the story on the dude.”

She laughed again. “You know me so well.”

He leaned toward her and put his arms around her waist. “Yes,” he said close to her ear. “Now tell me what you've dug up.”

“I didn't ‘dig up' anything. You make it sound like I went through the man's trash or something,” Talia protested.

“Quit stalling. You know you want to tell me.”

“He's a retired postman. His wife of twenty-five years died three years ago. Get this, he's four years younger than Mama Rose.”

“Go for it, Mama Rose. Younger men have more energy!” Derrick laughed hard when Talia's eyes widened with shock.

“Derrick! You don't think they…” Her voice trailed off.

“They're old, not dead.” Derrick continued to laugh at her stunned expression. Then she grinned back at him.

“My, my.” Talia shook her head slowly. “Anyway, who knows where this romance will lead.”

“I think it's great. No one wants to be alone.” He hugged her closer.

“Then there's Monette.” Talia wore a thoughtful frown.

“Yes?” Derrick decided not to push. He sensed there was some change in her feeling toward Monette.

“She's stirring up a pot that could boil over and get her burned.” Talia sat back and looked at him. “Winn Barron is always on the news.”

“He was at our office last week.”

“Barron keeps beating his chest about how he's protecting the public.” Talia's eyes narrowed.

“I saw a newspaper article about the hearing.” Derrick rubbed his jaw. “He's suddenly a very accessible state official, with the press I mean.”

“Rumor has it he plans to run for governor.” Talia sat forward with her elbows on the table.

Derrick nodded. “He's got a real shot at it, too. I just don't see why he's taken such an interest in this bill. There are other issues that grab headlines more.”

“Sure, like the environment, education, and jobs,” Talia replied. “But maybe his polls show crime is higher on the public's agenda.”

“Maybe.” Derrick wasn't convinced. “I'm going to read the trial transcripts. Monette and those folks she hung out with must have really been a problem.”

“She sure seems to have made an impression on
him
.” Talia glanced at Derrick. “I'd say with the attorney general fighting her parole, she's going to be in prison a long time.”

“She's served fifteen years of a forty-year sentence.” Derrick sat forward with his arms resting on the table, his shoulder against hers. “It's really a life sentence.”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

Neither spoke for several minutes. He could sense she was thinking about her mother. Talia leaned on him as though she needed support and physical reassurance. Her lovely brown eyes reflected the conflict within.

“Why don't we walk off that tasty dinner? The sunset will be great over the pond out back. We can watch it together like we used to.” Derrick stood and held out a hand to her.

“Okay.”

After Talia locked the back door, they crossed the wide back porch and headed across the backyard. A well-worn path stretched through thick brush and tall trees. With the temperature around seventy degrees, the low humidity made the evening pleasant. Reddish yellow leaves mixed with the still mostly deep green ones in surrounding trees. Cool breezes shook them until the woods seemed to whisper its secrets. Squirrels hopped from branch to branch, with acorns in their mouths. Derrick and Talia didn't talk. They strolled along with their arms around each other's waist. Fifteen minutes later they came to a small stream. They turned north and followed the stream to where it emptied into a small lake. Papa George had named it Lake Rose. He'd stocked it with perch and catfish. A cypress picnic table he had made sat twenty yards away under an old oak tree. Three cypress benches were spaced out around the water's edge, all with equally lovely views
facing east, west, and south. Talia led the way to the closest one. Once they sat down, she sighed and gazed up at the deep blue sky. Fading light slanted across the water.

“Beautiful.” She breathed in deeply.

“Yes.” Derrick rested his chin on the soft cushion of her thick hair. “With the right person that is. I've said this a thousand times already, but I'm glad you're home.”

“This is the first visit home I have actually enjoyed. Well, mostly.”

He could tell she was thinking about Monette still. “What are you going to do?”

Talia snuggled into the crook of his arm. “Go see her. It's time.”

“I think so, too.”

“I don't like this Barron guy playing with Monette's life, just so he can score votes,” Talia said in a steely tone.

“I don't much like the guy myself.” Derrick stared at the water as a breeze kicked up small ripples across the surface.

“Winn Barron and your boss are close pals, Derrick.” Talia shifted to look into his eyes. “Don't do anything crazy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Derrick, Monette has Jim Rand on her side. Senator Jackson has clout, and his bill could pass.” Talia tugged on the rolled up sleeve of his cotton shirt. “You don't need to take risks to help us.”

He took note of her use of the word “us.” Talia had begun to see Monette's fight as hers, too. Derrick felt a swell of protectiveness. Barron would no doubt use the resources of the attorney general's office. No way would Derrick stand by and do nothing. Still the last thing Talia needed was to worry about him.

“Relax. I'm used to staying out of trouble these days.” Derrick gave her an easy smile.

“I mean it. Promise me you won't do anything stupid.” Talia poked him in the side with her elbow like she had when they were kids.

Derrick held up one palm out. “I hereby promise not to do anything stupid. Feel better?”

She stared at him hard. “You agreed too fast, which makes me suspicious.”

“You've been in that cutthroat political town too long.” Derrick kissed her forehead. “Have a little faith, baby girl.”

Talia squinted at him. “I know
you
, Derrick Guillory.”

“I'm hurt.” He affected a pained expression. “I've always done as I was told.”

“You? Pu-leeze!” Talia said with a glare. “Now I know you're up to something.”

“No, seriously. I do promise.” He returned her gaze, his smile gone.

“Okay. I'll be watching you.” Talia pointed a finger at his nose.

“Good. Stay close and keep me out of trouble,” he whispered.

Her stern frown dissolved. She arched to him when he placed both hands on her face. He wasn't playing fair, but it felt too good to stop. Talia's body, a combination of soft round curves and firm flesh, drove him crazy. Derrick wanted to forget politics and the rest of the world. What he wanted most of all was for Talia to wrap her velvet warmth around him. She pulled away.

“I'm staying a little longer than I thought,” she said.

“Great, I—”

“Not for good,” Talia added quickly.

“I hear you.” Derrick's hopes soared despite her insistence that she would leave eventually. His head tried
to make his heart listen to reason. Emotion won.
Longer could turn into forever
. Yet he knew their happiness rested on shaky ground.

“When are you going to visit Monette?”

“Thursday. Two days should give me enough time to prepare myself,” Talia said. She grew quiet in his arms.

Derrick thought of Winn Barron and the files he'd read. Something about Monette's case and Barron's behavior bothered him. His instincts told him he'd only begun to peel back the layers.

“I'll be right here for you, baby.”

 

Talia looked around the living room of Karl's house, a double-wide trailer in New Roads.

“You've got a great home and family, Karl. I'm happy for you,” Talia said. She had to admit she'd been skeptical about his reform.

“Yeah, I've been given another chance not to throw my life down a sewer,” he said with a wise nod.

His wife had cooked them a delicious down-home meal of chicken and gravy, rice, field peas, and hot, sweet corn bread. LaTrice had taken their three children to their bedrooms to play so Talia and Karl could talk. Kelly green curtains with ruffles matched the green in the floral print furniture. Sentimental pictures of cute puppies and flowers adorned the walls. LaTrice had decorated every inch of two bookcases with little discount store figurines. The entire house had a crowded, homey look. Not exactly Talia's taste, but somehow it didn't seem tacky. Maybe because of the love that filled in what little space was left, she mused.

“LaTrice done all this herself,” he said proudly.

“Nice,” Talia said sincerely. She sank against the sofa. Just then Karl's youngest, four-year-old Rashida shot into the room and bounced onto Talia's lap.

“Girl, you better get back in here.” LaTrice scurried
down the hall. “I'm sorry, Talia. This girl is faster than lightning.”

Talia enjoyed the feel of Rashida's plump little body snuggling against her. Talia tickled her round cheek. Her reward was a cascade of little giggles.

“It's okay, LaTrice.” Talia laughed when Rashida tugged at her face with glee.

“She took a real likin' to her aunt Talia. That's my baby girl.” Karl beamed at them.

“Sure did. Even Karl, Jr., said a few words, and that boy is so shy. Good in school though.” LaTrice scooped the child from Talia's lap. “But you two need to talk. I'm gonna settle these kids down and finish in the kitchen.”

Karl watched her walk out, swinging the child until she squealed with delight. He let out a long breath. “I just started living a few years ago, Talia.”

“You're a lucky guy.” Talia wondered for the first time about her solitary life and high-powered days.

“So, you're gonna go see Monette.” Karl crossed one long leg over another.