Harmony Cabins (22 page)

“You don't deserve Doreen.” Alonzo fisted his hands.

“And you do?” Leonard stepped forward, causing Doreen to stumble against Alonzo.

“Stop it!” Doreen threw up her hands.

Alonzo steadied her before moving her out of harm's way. “You played with Yvette just to hurt Doreen. You don't deserve either woman.”

“I said stop it!” Doreen shouted to get their attention. “Get out of my house. Both of you!” They stared at her, frozen in surprise. Doreen marched to the door and ripped it open. “Out!”

Leonard jerked his head toward Alonzo. “I'm not leaving unless he does.”

“Get! Out!” Doreen shook with fury.

Leonard recovered first. He stomped across the entryway and through the open door. “This isn't over.”

Doreen met Alonzo's eyes from across the distance. Her voice was muted. “I want you to leave.”

Alonzo held her gaze as he walked to her. “Forty-two years ago, I walked away without a fight. I'll be damned if I step aside now for Leo.”

Doreen flinched at the way he sneered the other man's name. “I'm not a toy for the two of you to fight over.”

“I'm not fighting over you, Doreen. I'm fighting
for
you. I can't lose you again. And I won't lose you to someone like Leo, who can't appreciate what he has with you.” The yearning in his eyes weakened her knees.

Alonzo turned and walked to his car, parked at the curb in front of her house. Doreen locked her front door. Pride had demanded her show of strength to Leonard and Alonzo. They couldn't fight over her as though she were disputed property. She would decide who she wanted to be with—if she wanted to be with either of them.

 

 

“Does Noah know I'm coming?” Darius called to the woman waiting for him Thursday evening in the doorway at the end of the path. He still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing.

He felt like limp lettuce as he walked the short, curving path to the little wood-and-stone cottage in Sequoia, Ohio, a town neighboring Trinity Falls. Was it the heat, the strain of the coming visit, or both?

“He knows.” June Cale let Darius into her home. “He'll be home from work soon.”

The cozy little cottage reminded Darius of Doreen Fever's home. It was full of natural light, bright colors, and fat, fluffy furniture. Some of Darius's tension drained as he walked farther into the Cale home.

Darius glanced at June over his shoulder. At thirty-eight, she still looked like a college coed. Her short dark brown curls exploded around her makeup-free oval face. Her almond-shaped bright brown eyes lent an exotic look to her brown sugar features.

He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his gray Dockers. “Did you talk with him?”

“I wanted to wait for you.” June gestured toward the foam green love seat, inviting Darius to sit. She took the armchair, leaving the matching sofa empty between them.

Darius's gaze circled the room again. It housed so many Cale family memories. Photos of Noah spilled across the fireplace mantel and clung to the pale yellow walls. They tracked his life from birth to young adulthood: first steps, first bike, prekindergarten graduation, First Communion, Confirmation, football. What was it like growing up in a home in which you knew you were loved, cherished even?

June interrupted his thoughts. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks.” Darius curled his fingers into his left palm to keep from drumming them against the armrest.

Their conversation hadn't been this stilted since Darius had formally met June and her son, Noah, five years earlier. But perhaps discussing the weather, their day, and preparations for Trinity Falls's upcoming sesquicentennial would calm June's nervousness, too.

They were running out of inane chatter when a key sounded in the front door. Darius sighed his relief even as he tensed in dread. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation or the confrontation that would come after.

“Ma, I'm home.” Noah's greeting preceded his appearance in the living room.

Looking at him was like looking into a mirror sixteen years in the past. “Hey, Noah.”

Noah studied his mother before switching his attention to Darius. “Hey, D. You want me to meet our father, don't you?”

Darius frowned his surprise. “How did you know?”

Noah leaned his left shoulder against the nearby wall and crossed his ankles. “It's Thursday. You never visit in the middle of the week, unless it's a big deal.”

“You don't miss a trick, do you, kid?” Darius's lips curved in a reluctant smile.

Noah smiled in return. “It's about time you realized that. And don't call me ‘kid,' old man. I'm seventeen.” He shrugged. “I'll meet him.”

“Wait a minute. I don't think that's a good idea.” June's protest was immediate.

Darius had expected it. Simon had been a worse father to Noah than he'd been to Darius. He hadn't thought that was possible. In contrast, Darius had tried to be a better role model for his younger half brother, spending time with him, helping him with his homework, giving him advice, attending his football games, teaching him to tie a tie. But he couldn't replace Noah's father. And, although he wouldn't wish Simon on anyone, he'd always thought his sibling should at least meet the man who'd contributed to his birth.

Darius turned to face Noah's mother. “Why not?”

“Simon Knight may have provided Noah with his DNA, but he's not his father.” June's frown was fierce.

Noah straightened from the wall. “Whether he's Father of the Year or just a sperm donor, I want to meet him. I want to know where I came from. I have that right.”

June spread her arms to encompass their home. “This is where you came from.”

“You know what I mean, Ma.” Noah faced his mother. “The people I came from. All of them.”

June's expression revealed her frustration. “Why? Where has Simon been for the past seventeen years? Darius found us. Simon didn't even try.”

Noah shrugged. “I don't care. I want to know who my father is.”

June spread her arms. “What difference will that make?”

Noah's expression was a study in stubborn determination. “It'll make a difference to me.”

Darius gentled his voice. “Meeting his father won't change the fact that you're a great mother and Noah loves you very much.”

June turned on him. “You only want them to meet because you think seeing Noah will convince Simon to drop out of the mayoral race.”

Noah crossed his long arms over his narrow chest. “Is that true?”

Darius met his younger brother's midnight eyes. “I want the two of you to meet, if that's what you want. But, yes, I'm hoping meeting you will change his mind about running for mayor.”

“Because he'll be ashamed of me?” Noah's eyes snapped with accusation.

“No, because I want him to acknowledge you.” Darius's response was firm and impatient. How could the younger man think his existence was something to be ashamed of? “If you make the first move, you can set the tone for your introduction. But if he lets someone else reveal your existence, the gossip will be nasty.” He looked at June. “I don't want that for Noah. Do you?”

June clenched and unclenched her fists. The battle between protective and overprotective mother warred within her. “No, I don't want that for my son.”

Noah nodded once. “When will we do this?”

Darius studied June's stark expression. She didn't want Noah and Simon to meet. But it was what Noah wanted and what Simon needed. He inclined his head toward her to acknowledge the difficult decision she'd made.

He switched his attention to Noah. “You'll meet our father tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 22

Ramona's ebony eyes grew as large as saucers. “Leo shoved in the door?” The retiring mayor had joined Doreen and Megan Friday morning in the kitchen of Books & Bakery. She leaned forward on the dainty honey-wood chair, her mug of cooling coffee forgotten. “And then what happened?”

Megan gave her older cousin an exasperated look from the other side of the table. “If you'd stop interrupting, she could tell us that much faster.”

Puzzled, Doreen looked from Ramona to Megan. Ramona looked almost gleeful. Megan looked stunned. “Ramona, you're missing the point. This wasn't fun for me. They made me feel like a pork chop between two starving dogs.”

Doreen had invited the two women for a private conversation in her white-and-silver kitchen after Darius, Ean, and Quincy had left that morning. She'd put Michelle Mosely, the high-school junior, in charge of the bakery counter. Megan had asked Wesley Hayes, the high-school senior, to watch over the bookstore area.

“Admit it.” Ramona gave her a sly look. “You didn't feel even a tiny bit flattered that two attractive men were fighting over you?”

“Not even a little.” Doreen huffed again. “They were sniping at each other as though I wasn't even in the room. It's my house!”

Ramona propped her elbow on the kitchen table and rested her chin on her right fist. “I used to love when boys would fight over me. It made me feel powerful.”

“The keyword there is ‘boys.'” Megan leaned her forearms on the table. “Doreen's right. Alonzo and Leo should have known better. But in fairness, it did sound as though Alonzo was defending himself—and you.”

An image of Alonzo crossing his muscled arms over his broad chest returned to Doreen.
“Your first mistake was taking Doreen for granted. Your second was believing she was your woman.”

Doreen shook off the thrill of attraction. “I don't need anyone to defend me.” But did she want it?

Megan smiled. “Sometimes it's nice when they do.”

Ramona crossed her legs, straightening the hem of her crimson sundress over her knees. “That's right. Give the guy a break, for Pete's sake. After all, he's been in love with you for more than forty years. Good grief! That's longer than I've been alive.”

Megan crossed to the counter and placed a hand on Doreen's shoulder. “Put yourself in his place. Would you remain silent if the person you loved as deeply as he loves you was in a relationship with someone who was taking him for granted?”

Doreen's gaze dropped to the floor. She heard Alonzo's voice again:
“I'm not fighting over you, Doreen. I'm fighting
for
you.”

“No, I wouldn't.”

Megan let her hand drop. “Alonzo must love you very much to have left you—and his home—the first time.”

“Can you imagine?” Ramona swung her right leg above her left knee. “I couldn't have done it.”

Michelle appeared in the kitchen doorway, interrupting their conversation. The unease in her tawny eyes drew attention from her spiked, lemon yellow hair. “Ms. Doreen, Ms. Bates is here. She wants to see you, and she doesn't look happy.”

“Just when you thought it couldn't get any more interesting.” Anticipation lit Ramona's eyes.

Doreen ignored Ramona. “Thanks, Michelle. I'll be right out.”

Megan's expression showed her concern. “What do you think Yvette wants?”

Doreen propped her hands on her hips. “I have no idea.”

“Why don't you speak with her in my office?” Megan glanced at Ramona. “Something tells me you're going to need the privacy.”

“Something tells me you're right.” Doreen removed her apron and hung it on a hook beside the sink.

Ramona stood. “Do you need backup?”

“No, thanks. I'm pretty sure I can handle this.” Doreen left the kitchen, aware of Megan and Ramona following her.

Yvette Bates waited beside the cash register. Her pose was a study in disdain. The high-school English teacher was model slim, with subtly applied makeup and expertly styled dark brown hair. She appeared to be enjoying her summer. Her sun-kissed brown skin glowed in a skimpy peach tank top and matching shorts.

Facing her, Doreen felt dowdy and overdressed. “Hello, Yvette. How can I help you?”

“You can leave Leo alone.” The other woman's words carried a matter-of-fact threat that would make a Mafia don proud.

Doreen offered her wannabe rival a smile. “Let's talk in Megan's office.”

She led the way across the store, past special-interest book displays and fluffy armchairs. The rows of dark wood bookcases were packed with new releases and best-selling classics.

Business was brisk in both the book and bakery sections due to the out-of-town visitors, who'd come for the sesquicentennial. Wesley and Michelle had recruited their high school friends to help with the increased customer traffic. In fact, all the town center businesses had additional seasonal help.

Doreen held the office door open for Yvette, then pulled the door shut behind her. She gestured the teacher to one of the two blue fabric guest chairs as she sank onto the other.

“What makes you think I'm after Leo?” They might as well get this over with. They both knew this wasn't a social call.

Yvette's posture was rigid on the padded seat. “He told me he'd stopped by your house. That's why he was late getting to my condo.”

Leonard had come to see her last night, knowing Yvette was expecting him? The thought made Doreen's skin crawl. “Did he tell you he came to my house uninvited?”

Yvette ignored her question. “I'm sure it's hard, accepting that a man of quality like Leo would dump you and start dating another woman so quickly. But you have to get over that.”

Doreen was speechless. She stared at the other woman for a beat, wondering what
she'd
ever seen in Leonard. He'd broken up with her because she'd wanted to pursue a very realistic dream. He'd admitted to dating another woman to make her jealous. But then he'd told his new girlfriend that it was
Doreen
who was stalking
him.

“Yvette, I'm not trying to hurt your relationship with Leo.” Doreen used a very measured tone. “In fact, I wish both of you every happiness.”

Yvette looked confused. “Are you sure?”

“I'm positive.”

Yvette angled her head. “You sound sincere.”

“That's because I am.”

“Well . . . all right.” The other woman stood.

“I'm glad we've cleared the air.” Doreen walked with her to the door.

“So am I, especially since I intend to vote for you in November. I've heard things about Simon Knight that frankly make him seem untrustworthy.”

“Men!” Doreen fought a smile. Leonard's new girlfriend intended to vote for her. How poetic.

She escorted Yvette to the bookstore's entrance, where they shook hands and parted with best wishes for the summer. The casual observer might even have mistaken them for friends.

Back at the café, Doreen sighted a familiar, leanly muscled figure seated at her counter. Her busy morning was aging into a hectic afternoon. Doreen gathered her courage in both hands, strode through her crowded dining area, and tapped Alonzo on the shoulder.

He turned from his mug of coffee in surprise, then rose from his bar stool. He was handsome in his sheriff's uniform: short-sleeved tan shirt, black tie, and spruce green gabardine pants. He seemed almost as nervous as she felt.

Alonzo cleared his throat. “Doreen, I apologize for—”

She took his face in her hands and drew his mouth down to hers. She kissed him hard and quick, loving the taste of his lips on hers, then released him. “I'm the one who's sorry.”

“For what?” Alonzo's voice was husky. His coffee-colored eyes were dark and dreamy. He made her forget where she was.

Doreen looked around the café. Her customers—both regulars and those here just for the sesquicentennial—regarded her with surprise and amusement. But she didn't regret her impulse. She'd do it again.

She took his left hand and smiled into his puzzled gaze. “Last night, I was blinded by pride. The truth is, I would fight for you, too.”

Alonzo regarded her with a warmth that woke the butterflies in her stomach. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

She gave him a flirtatious smile. “For starters. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

She thought she heard Alonzo groan. With a wink, she walked past him and into her kitchen.
So this is female empowerment.
She liked it.

 

 

Darius rang his parents' doorbell Friday evening.

“Don't you have a key to your parents' house?” June sounded baffled.

“No, I don't.” Darius met her gaze over his shoulder.

Noah exchanged a look with his mother. “That's cray.”

Yeah, cray.
Darius smiled at his half brother's use of the popular slang for “weird.” Maybe not having a key to one's family home was odd for a normal family. But Darius couldn't think of anyone who considered Simon and Ethel Knight normal parents.

The front door opened, framing Ethel in the threshold. She scowled at him. “You didn't tell me you were coming for dinner.”

“We're not staying.”

His mother noticed June and Noah on the steps behind him. Her scowl deepened. “You brought company? Who are . . .” Ethel's dark brown eyes sharpened on Noah. She swayed. “Oh, my Lord.”

Darius stepped forward to catch his mother. His hands banded her forearms. “Steady.”

Her eyes pleaded with him. Her whisper rushed on a breath of air. “Is he your son?”

“You know he's not,” Darius whispered back. He caught June and Noah's concerned gazes. “Come in.”

Darius led them into his parents' great room. Ethel leaned heavily on his arm. June and Noah wandered past him. What did they think as they studied the white walls dotted with framed dried flowers, Ethel's collection of ornamental birds, and the heavy red curtains that guarded against the natural light?

Darius led his mother to her stiff red sofa. “Sit down, Mom.”

Ethel ignored him. She stared fixedly at the younger version of her husband of thirty-three years. “How old are you?”

Noah faced her. “I'm seventeen, ma'am.”

Ethel swayed on her feet.

Darius's heart leaped. “Mom, sit before you fall.”

“Who was at the door?” Simon's voice accompanied his footfalls on the staircase.

With a surprising burst of energy, Ethel tore free of Darius' support. She marched across the room, meeting Simon at the threshold. “Your whore and her bas—”

“Watch your mouth!” A sudden flash of white-hot rage burned through Darius. He'd never spoken to his parents like that before. He hoped they'd never give him reason to speak like that to them ever again.

Ethel spun to face him, shock stamped on her face. Simon stared across the room as though he'd been confronted by ghosts. Darius didn't have a lot of moments with his parents for which he could look back and be proud. This evening wouldn't change that.

“Dad, you've met June Cale.” Darius stood between her and Noah. His younger brother hadn't taken his eyes off Simon since the older man had entered the room. “But it's about time you met her son, Noah. Your sperm helped make this moment possible.”

“June.” Simon's voice was hollow.

Ethel grabbed a fistful of her husband's red shirt and shook him. “Did you know you had a son by her?
Did you?
”

Simon looked down at his wife. His arms hung limply at his sides. “I . . . Yes.”

“Aiiyee!”
Ethel pounded Simon's chest.

Darius stepped forward to stop his mother, but June caught his arm. She shook her head, cautioning him to let his parents work this out. Darius stepped back.

Ethel's tirade was painful to hear, painful to watch. “Everyone was talking, whispering about you sleeping with other women. But you told me you weren't having affairs. You're a liar!”

Her tears were the sobs of a woman betrayed. Darius's heart broke for her. She'd married his father because she was pregnant with Darius. And now she was left to wonder how many other children Simon had fathered.

Simon grabbed her wrists. “Ethel, calm down.”

“Calm down!”
Ethel's scream could shatter glass. “Did you pay her? Did you send her money?”

“No, he didn't.” June's voice was kind but firm. “I took care of Noah on my own. Simon's never even met him. We didn't have contact with anyone in your family before Darius found us.”

Ethel turned on Darius. Wide, wet streaks dampened his mother's face. Her eyes were red and puffy. She pointed a finger at him. “You. Did you bring them here to humiliate me?”

Darius shook his head, hating the pain he was causing her. “No, Mom. That wasn't my intent.”

Ethel continued to glare at him. “Then what did you hope to accomplish?”

Darius pushed his fists into the front pockets of his pants. “Dad's plan to run for public office should be a family decision. Noah is family.” He held Simon's gaze. “He's my brother and your son. You may not have acknowledged him, but I don't want him hurt if the media finds out about him.”

Simon snorted. “The
Monitor
is the only paper that's going to cover the mayoral race. And you're not going to say anything that could embarrass your own family.”