Dream Keeper (3 page)

* * *

The woman in the slate gray suit and kente shawl looked irritable and the tight line of her mouth made Rissa lay the spoon carefully on the china saucer and fold her hands into her lap. She offered a small smile of apology.
Wonder if it would make a difference if I told her that I was tapping the spoon because I was nervous. If I told her it was because I’m pregnant?
The woman gave Rissa a final evil glance before turning back to her companion.

“Well, maybe not but dang, I didn’t even realize I was doing it until she looked at me like that,” Rissa muttered into her delicately curved teacup.

“Talking to yourself, just like your brother,” Marlea said, making Rissa jump. “I’m going to have to watch Nia and Jabari.” She shook her head and sat across from her sister-in-law.

“You weren’t here. You don’t know…”

“Whatever.” Marlea waved a dismissive hand as she jammed her gloves into her coat pocket and pulled the scarf from her neck. Unbuttoning her coat, she flipped it over the back of her seat and looked at Rissa. “So, what’s going on?”

“Have some coffee first, catch your breath and relax.”

“Relax? Now, that’s a word I don’t think I’ve ever heard from you.” Marlea accepted the menu from the waitress and squinted across the table. “Who are you, and what did you do with Rissa?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Rissa sipped tea before smiling up at the waitress. “She’d like coffee, I’d like another pot of tea, and we’ll both have the Cobb salad, please. We’ll decide on dessert later.” She turned her attention to the woman across from her. “You look good, for a woman in a hurry.”

“Which is a minor miracle, considering I had to sneak past a toddler to get here. Thank goodness our tree was trimmed weeks ago, because the kids are so excited, I don’t know how we could ever manage to do it now.” Marlea fingered the soft collar of her blue sweater, a gift from Rissa. The woman might be crazy, but she did have good taste. “What’s up with the madonna act? Why are you so serene, all of a sudden?” The waitress left the table and Marlea narrowed her eyes. “The pod people got to you, didn’t they?”

“Don’t talk crazy.” Rissa sipped again.

“What’s
really
in that tea?” Marlea leaned across the table to inspect the small teapot. Lifting the lid, she sniffed, then turned the tags on the teabags. “And since when do you drink herbal tea?”

“Since I found out I was pregnant.”

“Since you…what?” Suddenly frozen, Marlea’s eyes rose and locked on Rissa’s.

“Just this morning,” Rissa said. “Nine weeks.”

Marlea fumbled the glass of water the waitress set in front of her. Eyes still on Rissa, she finally found her mouth and drank deeply. When the glass was empty, she set it on the table and stared. “After all this time?”

And all those tests and false alarms.

“Can you believe that finally your kids are going to have a cousin? Maybe even the first of many?”

“Have you told Dench yet?”

“No, I have not yet told my husband,” Rissa said carefully, even as his name made her grin like a fool. Dench: Big hands, big feet, long limbs, sheets of muscle, warm lips, and a heartbeat like music. “Not yet. I’m thinking that this will make the best possible Christmas present for him.” She hugged herself, almost feeling the heat and warmth of him course through her.

“And you.”

“And me,” she agreed. “Dench has always wanted a family, growing up the way he did, just him and his Aunt Linda.” She stopped and looked at Marlea. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Marlea said. Losing parents and being raised by their aunts was something Marlea and Dench shared. Marlea had lost both parents almost before birth. Dench had been left behind first by his father and then his mother, and his aunt had never been able to tell him any more about them before her death; but she’d always loved him and he’d always known that. “I know exactly what you mean, no harm, no foul.”

“I want him to have a family, Marlea. I want it for him as much as he wants it for himself. Maybe more.”

“Definitely more.”

Rissa’s fingers framed her plate and she sat looking down at it for a moment. “Nobody ever told me that it would be this hard, getting pregnant, you know? I thought I would be like you, find Mr. Right, have a beautiful wedding, a sexy honeymoon, and a gorgeous baby nine months later. Besides, I’m black. Black women are fertile, everybody knows that. They don’t have trouble getting pregnant, right? Unless they’re me.”

“Aw, Rissa…”

Rissa shrugged, a wry smile on her lips. “I have a new client and he came to me with a problem today. His girlfriend is pregnant. Just like that, and it was a problem because neither of them was sure of what to do next. And would you believe that even though I know that in the same circumstances, Dench and I would never have that problem, I was jealous—just a little? And I was jealous because there was a baby in the equation.” She shook her head.

“Aw, Rissa…” Marlea reached for her hand and settled for linking her fingers with Rissa’s.

“No, I’m over it now. Really, I’m okay, it’s just that I always dreamed of having children of my own, of having my babies growing up with a lot of love, the way AJ and I did. After you married AJ and got pregnant, I was thrilled. I married Dench and couldn’t stop dreaming of all the vacations and stuff my kids would share with yours and then when I couldn’t…didn’t…” She almost choked when the hurt ambushed her. “But it’s okay, because now…”

“Now we’ve got to plan a baby shower, and you haven’t even told him yet. Maybe we should cancel the tree trimming tonight.” Marlea lifted her fork and pushed at her salad. Looking up, she tried a smile.

“And have us face Christmas morning alone with a big old naked tree? No, thank you. We’ll see you at seven tonight. Bring the babies.”

“I can’t get over your not telling him yet. I mean, I understand your wanting to tell him face-to-face, but you know that you of all people can’t keep a secret, Rissa, especially not a secret like this. When are you going to tell Dench?”

“I was thinking that I could tell him Christmas morning—kind of a gift, you know?”

“Uh-huh, yes. I can see that happening.” Marlea’s eyes shifted to the ceiling and she snorted laughter. “You keeping a secret, especially one this big? And overnight, too? Bet you can’t do it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rissa leaned toward her sister-in-law. “How much you want to lose?”

“Invest, you mean? Let me see.” Fork on her plate, Marlea snorted again and reached for her purse. “I’ve got a fifty, and here’s another. That’s a hundred dollars I’m betting that Dench won’t make it through your front door tonight before you tell him, and definitely that you can’t hold out until Christmas morning. And I’ll even trust you to tell me the truth, ’cause you know I’m right.”

“Honey please, you’re an evil woman and I don’t know why I chose you to be the first one I told.”

“I can tell you why you chose me,” Marlea drawled. “You chose me because you couldn’t keep it to yourself, and you love me, and you know I won’t tell AJ until you say I can. Now, what about that bet? A hundred dollars?” She stuck out her hand. “Shake on it.”

Rissa made a face as she reached to shake hands, but her eyes were bright when her fingers closed on Marlea’s. “I’ve waited all my life to share this with the right man. Besides, I only have to keep it from him until Christmas morning, right?”

“Christmas morning, and then all bets are off.”

Chapter 3

The heavy thump beyond her kitchen made her heart lurch. “Garage door,” Rissa whispered, her eyes going to the clock on the kitchen wall.
He’s home and I only have to make it to midnight. Marlea thought she was funny making me promise to hold out ’til Christmas morning, thought I couldn’t make it. Well, the joke is on her. I get through the next six hours and it’s midnight. One minute past and it’s Christmas morning, and I can tell Dench over and over again.

His car door slammed, and she looked around her kitchen. “Marlea didn’t say I couldn’t give him any hints.” She took a quick look at the steamer. Tender baby asparagus and new potatoes were ready, with baby carrots on the side. In the oven, baby back ribs were done to perfection, and baby Bibb lettuce leaves topped the salad cooling in the refrigerator.

“Whatever is clever, and clever would be me,” Rissa congratulated herself. “If he guesses, it’s not my fault.” Placing the arrangement of red rose buds, fern, and pine in the center of the table, she knew she’d certainly set the scene for revelation.

Beyond her table, a wall of windows set along a stone terrace looked out onto a hilly expanse of pine and fern, the trees visible even in the dark because of the miles of tiny white lights strung through their branches. Centered on a slight rise, a pool, beautiful in wintry stillness, reflected a small waterfall and the starry winter sky, cold and breathtaking.

Indoors, Rissa had lined the dozen windows with red and silver ribboned poinsettia plants. Across the room, the fire she’d lit burned brightly and filled the room with warmth. Pine boughs, punctuated by tall red candles in pewter holders, draped the mantle, adding softness to the light and scenting the air around her, making the rooms homey and romantic at the same time. Around her home, comfortable furniture in shades of blue, green, and chocolate brown, rested in pooling shadows created by the moving light.
And it all feels so wrong. Looks pretty, but this is not where I want to tell him. It has to be perfect, a memory for our children
, she shivered,
for our grandchildren.

But if I feed him, maybe he’ll figure it out on his own and that will be a memory worth keeping.
Rissa loved the sight of the small candlelit wrought iron table by the windows.
Small and intimate, just the two of us for dinner and a memory,
she approved.

His key turned in the lock.
I get to greet my husband and welcome him ho
me. AJ, Marlea and the kids will come by to trim the tree, stay for a couple of hours, and then I’m home free.
The door handle turned and she blew out hard.
I’m as ready as I’m going to get, and maybe,
she smiled,
since we started this in bed, that might be the perfect place to tell him—after midnight.

A second later, he stood framed in the doorway. “Hey, baby.” When he walked toward her, his stride careless and long, she memorized every move. Three steps into the room, her resolve broke and the squeal that escaped her as she launched herself into his arms made him laugh. The arms that caught her made her want to cry—she’d missed him that much.

“Welcome back.” She pushed her weight against him, throwing him back against the wall and pressing her lips to his, drawing away only a hair’s breadth when his hands pulled her closer, and she found herself against the wall, clutching his jacket, holding him in return. His mouth on hers and his hands moving beneath her shirt claimed her.

His breath was hot and moist against the column of her throat. His voice, striped with low, growling hunger, tightened her core. “Girl, you don’t know how much I missed you, ’cause you know I love you like…”

“Jesus loved the church,” she whispered, crushing her mouth to his, her long leg wrapping his and binding him close. The taste and feel of him was everything she remembered, wanted, and craved. “Dench,” she whispered, needing to say his name.

“Tell me you missed me.”

“I did, I do. Always and endlessly.” Clarity reared its silly head when his hand slipped past her waistband. “We’re in the kitchen, Dench.”

“It’s paid for.” He grinned and hummed when his tongue licked at her ear. “And we’re grown.”

“And we’ve got company coming. Later.” Her teeth closed lightly on his lower lip.

He hummed again and felt his hunger surge when her hand found skin beneath his shirt. “Bedroom might be better.”

Rissa didn’t know whether to scream or swoon when he swept her up and over his shoulder. She settled for looping an arm around him as he carried her through the house, and she tangled herself with him when her feet hit the floor at the side of their bed. Pulling him with her, she enjoyed the tumble as they fell together. “This is the bedroom.” Her voice was low and husky. “Show me how it’s better.”

Desire fanned her words and heat licked at his soul. She could feel it steaming from him in waves, from his hands as they touched her, from his skin against hers. She felt it burn and strain when he kissed her, and her urgency aroused him, made him more than he’d ever meant to be for anyone. A wisecrack died on his tongue. In her arms, captured by desire, he found himself linked to her by more than passion-flavored sex when her long legs climbed his back.

He felt himself fall away when the taste of her filled him and the lean curving length of her entranced him. Going deeper, he plundered all that she held for him. A tender cry passed her lips, creasing the night around them, and buried in her, he knew he was home. His lips, hands, and body stoked her yearnings and their cries became a shared moan as he met her call to parts of him that no other woman would ever touch in the same way.

“Rissa.”

She heard her name, distant as the stars, and as close as his heartbeat.

“Rissa.”

Her fingers gliding along the planes of his back tattooed him. Her eyes soft, her smile languid, her fingers held his face. Tracing his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his lips, she sighed softly.
The hell with Marlea
. Looking up into his face, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her breast, Rissa took a deep breath, her lips parted—and her words were stopped by the distant sound of door chimes.

“Dude, is that the door?” Dench moved, switching on a bedside lamp.

“Crap!” Rissa sat straight up and glared at the bedside clock—seven on the dot. “AJ and Marlea,” she growled. “Damn her prompt little heart. They’re here to trim the tree. You let them in while I grab a shower.”

“What?” Propped on an elbow, his chest bare, Dench raised an eyebrow at his wife. “And I should just walk around smelling like sex all night?”

“Now, Dennis Charles Traylor, is that really what you think I would have you do?” The eyebrow dropped and he looked sheepish. “I’m going to grab a quick shower and then you can have one. I’d offer to share, but I know how you are and we can’t just ignore them—as much as I might want to.” She scooted from the bed and headed for the bathroom. At the door she turned slightly, suggestion in her eyes. “We’ll finish this a little later, okay?”

“I’ll meet you right here.” Admiring his wife’s rear view, Dench nodded and swung his legs off the bed. He pulled on jeans and a shirt and headed for the front door. Still buttoning his shirt, he looked out to find Marlea and AJ. Standing slightly behind them, Mrs. Baldwin stood patiently holding Nia and Jabari’s hands. Opening the door, he saw Connie in the driveway, climbing out of her car. Jeannette emerged from the other door with a shopping bag.

Wouldn’t be a party without them
. “Looks like a full house.” He grinned. “Come on in!”

“House this big will never be full.” Connie squeezed Marlea and AJ into a hug.

“Y’all hungry? I know Rissa’s got some…”

“I’m saving my appetite for those cookies I know Mrs. Baldwin’s baking!”

“Thought you were on a diet.” Connie looked critical.

“That’s why I saved my appetite,” Jeannette explained patiently.

“Mebby Kismas!” Nia and Jabari waved frantically up at their godmothers. Connie and Jeannette returned the enthusiastic greetings and bent to kiss cold cheeks before the children were hustled through the door, barely managing to keep up with Mrs. Baldwin’s longer stride. The housekeeper smiled, nodded, muttered something about cookies, and aimed the children toward the kitchen. Seconds later, the house sound system came up and the air was filled with Christmas carols.

“Come on in, it’s cold out there.” Dench ignored the look on AJ’s face and waved them all in. Marlea took two steps past him and looked back at AJ, who grinned.

“I take it you just got home?” Marlea didn’t try to hide her smirk. “Catching up on things with Rissa? All the news?”

“He just got here,” Rissa insisted, appearing at the end of the hall. “We didn’t have time for dinner, let alone current events.”

“Or shoes,” Marlea teased. Dench shoved one bare foot behind the other and looked more than a little guilty when she passed her family’s coats to him. She watched him walk away, then turned to Rissa. “What did you do, jump on the man the second he got through the door?”

“He was gone for two weeks.”

“So you tried to cripple him when he got back?”

Before Rissa could answer, Nia threw herself against her mother’s legs, nearly buckling her knees, and clung there with tears glazing her cheeks. About the time Marlea hoisted the little girl to her hip, Jabari burst from the kitchen. Seeing his mother’s occupation, he headed for his father and promptly climbed into his arms.

“What in the world?”

“See what you have to look forward to?” Marlea whispered, producing a tissue and soft words for her daughter. Her palm pressed against her daughter’s back and smoothed away the hiccups and sniffing. “Nia? Jabari?”

Needing little urging, Jabari blurted, “I’m good, Mommy. Nia, too. Real good.” His balled fist scrubbed at his runny nose before he burrowed his face into AJ’s shoulder, and Rissa’s heart nearly broke—he just looked too damned much like AJ.

Rissa’s hand flattened over her stomach.
My baby’s going to look just like Dench.

Connie came quickly around the corner from the kitchen, waving her finger. “It’s Jeannette’s fault. She was in there talking bad about Santa Claus.”

“All we did was walk through the door.” Hands raised in defense, Jeannette followed. “Then all I said was that Santa only visits good girls and boys. I never said a word about…” She hunched her shoulders and looked innocent.

“Fine co-godmother you are, scaring the babies like that,” Connie sniffed.

“I’m a good godmother and they love me.” Jeannette tossed her head as she reached to lay a hand on Nia’s head. At her touch, the little girl sighed and Jeannette smirked. “See?”

Connie’s hands went to her hips. “She’s young yet.”

“I swear.” Mrs. Baldwin brought up the rear, shaking her head and dusting her hands on her apron. “They have three godmothers and these are the two who always show up.” She held out her arms to Nia, who pushed her face against her mother’s before going into the other woman’s arms.

“You are two quick little monkeys, but you’re my little monkeys,” Mrs. Baldwin said softly, holding out a hand to Jabari, who looked at his father and then slid to the floor and walked over to take the housekeeper’s hand. “Now, let’s go finish those cookies before Santa Claus gets here, because he is coming and he’ll be hungry. And you two,” her nod was for Connie and Jeannette, “stay out here and share your Christmas spirit.”

She huffed, and, for a heartbeat, no one said anything.

Jeannette watched her leave the room with the children. “Guess I know where we’re not wanted.”

Connie looked around, the expression on her face clear:
Is it just me?

Rissa caught her head shaking when she looked at Marlea and AJ. They stood with eyes on each other and lips pressed together, trying not to laugh, but when Dench walked into the room fresh from his shower, they couldn’t help themselves.

“What’s up?” Freshly showered, his eyes were heavy lidded and his smile was slow when he looked at them, but it grew wider and more inviting when his eyes fell on his wife. Shifting his hips and broad shoulders, he shoved a hand into his pocket and waited.

Marlea pressed two fingers to her lip and AJ’s smile grew casual and sexy. “Kids.”

“You didn’t hear them?” Jeannette grunted when Connie’s elbow nudged her.

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to hear kids,” Dench said, his eyes collecting a suddenly blushing Rissa. “I guess they’re excited.”

“And they’re not the only ones,” Marlea muttered. Connie and Jeannette watched Dench watch his wife and hid smiles behind their hands. “Yeah,” Marlea finished. “Kids.”

Dench nodded as if the one word answered all his questions. “You want to help me grab the tree, AJ?” Opening the French doors leading to the terrace, Dench led the way into the cold night and, between them, Dench and AJ hauled the twelve-foot spruce into the house while Rissa signaled the other three women to follow her down the hall.

“Guess you’re glad to have Dench home, huh?”

“Always. This big house is lonely when he’s away.” Rissa’s hand seemed to tremble slightly when she reached for the wall panel.

“How about that big bed?” Jeannette danced away from Connie’s swatting hand.

“You need to stay out of grown folks’ business.” A quick and delicate flush blossomed along the column of Rissa’s throat and climbed to her cheeks.

“Guess she told you.” Connie folded her arms and looked totally self-righteous.

Turning, Rissa opened a closet door and hauled out a series of marked boxes. “Okay, now these are the special decorations, the ones my mother gave me from when AJ and I were growing up, so we have to be careful.”

“Yeah, ’cause they’re old,” Marlea whispered a little too loudly. The nurses snickered.

Rissa didn’t miss a beat. “No, those were the ones she gave to you and AJ—from
his
childhood. These are newer—from
my
childhood.” She cheerfully placed a box in Marlea’s hands and ignored her when she stuck out her tongue. Connie and Jeannette looked at each other, snickered again and stepped back as Rissa led the way back down the hall.